Chapter 2: The Grand Escape
Jaune took note of his surroundings. His eyes made sure to take in every inch of the manor. There were a few guards patrolling the grounds but other than that, it was practically clear.
It was time for his escape.
His father would have probably already expected this move but Jaune was banking that due to him standing up to his father in a manner unlike never before that it would leave the older Arc confused and hopefully take him longer to wrap his head around the idea that Jaune would escape.
Jaune had never done something like this, being always meek and submissive but now that he had a transmigrate experience governing his actions, it was bound to cause waves.
Gracefully descending from his lofty perch on the balcony railing adjacent to his room, Jaune expertly leapt onto the lush grounds below, his landing as soundless as a whisper. Thankfully, due to the darkness of the night and his fair insight, he was able to evade the patrols of the guards and hop over the fenced gate with precise movements.
Despite being at a mere level 3, his physical prowess surpassed that of an average level 7. Hindered by his father's restriction on engaging with Grimm, he encountered greater challenges in advancing his class and leveling up.
Within the proverbial depths of this circumstance lay a hidden advantage, for Jaune had forged a lean yet formidable physique, adorned with dense musculature in precisely the optimal locations. It appeared that the limitations on his life imposed by his father had also granted him these exceptional benefits, Jaune mused.
Draped across his shoulder was the trusty travel sack, a repository for his armor components. Nestled within it was his sword, its edge though not the keenest, was sufficient to dispatch a few grimm adversaries.
He brought out his map of the kingdoms and glanced through every route that would be perfect. Looking at the route that he had decided beforehand, there were four towns in between his home city, Ambiance and Vale.
Ambiance was located within the continent of Anima fairly close by to Mistral.
Situated within the borders of Vale, Beacon Academy resided on the vast continent of Sanus. As Jaune contemplated his journey, he realized that he would have to traverse the ocean, presenting him with the challenge of crossing great waters to reach his destination.
Three docks beckoned Jaune, offering potential passage towards the continent of Sanus. However, a lingering concern gnawed at him: the possibility of his family relentlessly pursuing him, casting shadows of doubt upon his chances of reaching Sanus unimpeded.
A heavy sigh escaped Jaunes' lips, carrying with it a mix of weariness and resignation.
With a firm resolve, Jaune acknowledged that traveling on foot was the only viable option, deeming it too perilous to rely on Bullheads or any other means of transportation. The stakes were too high, as he could not afford the risk of his family intercepting him and forcefully returning him to his former life.
Jaune firmly resolved not to entertain the thought of returning until he had acquired the answers he sought or achieved a level of strength where answers became inconsequential. In his mind, a sword capable of vanquishing immortals and gods transcended the need for questions.
Cupping his chin, he marched away from the manor and into the outskirts of town, ready to enter the forest.
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Arthur Arc, a distinguished figure, held numerous titles due to his influential standing in the town of Ambiance and his connections to Mistrals' monarchy.
He was hailed as a Grand Strategist and an unparalleled Scholar, possessing immense power and a commanding presence, accompanied by an equally significant destiny.
As the current Patriarch of the Arc family, a group of ten exceptional individuals, his appearance exuded regal handsomeness with a touch of wildness. His hair resembled a lion's mane, and his golden eyes, like pools of liquid amber, had the ability to render even the most battle-hardened warrior speechless or intimidated.
However, this remarkable man was now in a state of confusion. His mind was in turmoil, and his heart trembled. His only son, the heir to the Arc name, had, for the first time, defied him, expressing disagreement with his plans and choosing a different path.
It was perplexing, not merely because of Jaunes' words, but because it seemed as if he had transformed into a different person. His demeanor and gait had changed, familiar yet somehow different. Arthur felt as if he were meeting his son for the first time.
When Jaune spoke to him, his eyes no longer held their shy and introverted nature. Instead, they radiated purpose and determination unlike anything before.
Arthur sighed, running his fingers through his hair, reflecting on every word Jaune had uttered.
"Forgive me, Jaune. Although you were born to be a swordsman, I have witnessed the toll that profession can take on those who choose to become Hunters. I won't lose you like I lost my father. Even if I have to, I'll make sure you attend that private school."
Arthur paused, his eyes narrowing as a thought crossed his mind. Suddenly, he rose from his desk, rushed towards the door, and flung it open, heading straight for Jaunes' room. His footsteps were hurried and erratic, as if driven by fear.
As he reached his son's door, Arthur stopped and composed himself. Knocking politely, he spoke, "Jaune, I'd like to speak with you."
He waited, expecting a response, but none came. Tension visibly crept into his being.
He tried the door handle and discovered it was locked. Knocking on the door more urgently, his knuckles struck the hard wooden surface with force.
"Jaune! Could you please open the door?"
Although phrased as a question, it was far from one. With no response from his son, his worst fears started to materialize.
Arthur instinctively drew back and raised his leg, kicking down the door effortlessly, its hinges giving way. Though his expertise lay outside of combat, he possessed physical prowess comparable to a level 26 combatant.
As Arthur surveyed the empty bedroom, he noticed the open balcony door. He quickly checked inside Jaunes' closet and found the armor pieces were missing as well.
"Damn it, Jaune. What have you done..."
[A few hours later]
Jaune extended his sword before him, his armor in tatters. The training armor he wore couldn't withstand the attacks of the creatures of grimm, proving inadequate for their encounters.
Fortunately, he hadn't encountered many Grimm thus far—only two. Surprised by their presence, he allowed a lone beowolf to come close and attack him multiple times. His instincts and training enabled him to land a few solid hits on the beast, crippling and ultimately killing it.
Moments later, another beowolf emerged from the underbrush, drawn by the sounds of battle. Jaune raised his sword defensively, awaiting the creature's next move. He carefully analyzed its muscles as they inched closer.
But Jaune was prepared this time.
With practiced ease, he shifted his right leg backward, effortlessly twisting his body to evade the incoming swipe. The beast's claws grazed the air mere inches from his face, a chilling reminder of the danger he faced.
His eyes narrowed, contemplating the near miss. "If that had hit me... it would have taken a chunk out of my neck." he thought, acknowledging the potential severity of the attack.
Reacting swiftly, Jaune spun into a graceful twirl, utilizing the momentum of his dodge to deliver a forceful strike against the Grimm's outstretched arm, cleaving a substantial chunk of flesh.
However, it was not a decisive blow.
A sense of urgency gripped Jaune as he realized the gravity of the situation. The wounded Beowulf, fueled by anger, contorted its body, preparing to pounce on Jaune once more.
Anticipating its move, Jaune timed his next action, thrusting his sword forward in synchrony with the creature's leap.
*Shlunk*
The blade punctured the Grimm's chest, piercing through its body with lethal precision. Despite its dying struggles and desperate attempt to bite Jaune, he deftly rolled backward, disengaging from the dying creature as it dissolved into dissipating smoke.
His weapon, now dislodged and clattering onto the forest floor, caught Jaune's attention. "That was harder than expected," he muttered, stepping forward to retrieve his fallen blade.
Suddenly, the snapping of twigs behind him shattered the relative calm, alerting him to the presence of yet another foe.
Reacting swiftly, Jaune dove forward, his hand instinctively grasping the hilt of his weapon. With a deft roll, he narrowly evaded the impending attack.
Whoosh
The timely maneuver saved Jaune from the Grimm that had lunged at him from behind. Swiftly spinning around, he raised his blade in a defensive stance, prepared to face the new threat head-on.
To his dismay, he discovered not just one, but three beowolves encircling him. The two at the rear bared their teeth, their eyes fixed on his battered form.
Jaune's heart sank as he surveyed the dire situation. His gaze shifted uneasily towards his weapon, contemplating whether to unleash his sole Active-type class skill.
Each person with a class, possessed a passive skill that enhanced their abilities at level one. At level 5 another skill would granted. However, Jaune's lack of proper training and his father's restrictions had forced him to forge his own unique class skill.
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<<Cross Sectional Slash>>
A technique crafted by Jaune Arc, it granted him the power to execute a devastating cross slash with unparalleled speed and precision.
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A furrow formed on Jaune's brow as he considered the conundrum before him. The drawback was clear in his mind—the fragility of his weapon. A mere training sword, it was ill-equipped to withstand the force unleashed by the skill. Its blunt and feeble state was already a testament to Jaune's remarkable feat in dispatching his previous adversaries.
His voice filled with uncertainty, Jaune muttered to himself, "What should I do?"
The beowolves crept closer, their predatory instincts sharpening.
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