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I hadn't had the chance to test my skills against the Grimm just yet. The roads had been surprisingly clear, though the smell lingered faintly in the air, always just out of reach. Still, I was making good time. The sun was rising now, and I felt as though I could keep going for a few hours more. My aura was carrying me, making my armor feel weightless and my pack almost empty. I'd been jogging since eight the previous night and barely even broke a sweat. Spalden couldn't be much farther.

The forest around me looked almost surreal, like a painting. I could feel the dirt beneath my boots, see the trees whipping by, but when I glanced to the sides, it was as if I were running in place, the trees blurring together in a strange haze. Before long, though, I noticed the signs of civilization. The road improved, the dirt path becoming bumpy cobblestones which then smoothed out into paved streets more common in cities. Then came the smell—smoke from fireplaces and the comforting aroma of fresh bread.

In the distance, I saw it: Spalden. A small village with no more than twenty houses, surrounded by a wooden palisade. At its center stood a tower, and at the top of it, a bell. Or at least, I thought it was a bell. I couldn't be sure from here.

As I approached, I noticed that the forest had been cut back, leaving a wide, open field around the village. Smart, I thought. The villagers would have a clear view if any Grimm approached. The fields gave way to farmland—just enough to sustain the village, but likely not enough to export to Vale.

When I reached the gate, I saw that no one was manning the walls. That was a mistake. A village this close to the frontier should always have someone on watch. I knocked on the gate, and it creaked loudly under my hand, almost as if it were ready to fall apart. Was the gate rotten, or was I just stronger now because of my aura?

"Who goes there?" a gruff voice called from the other side.

"A traveler," I replied. "Looking for a place to rest before heading to Vale."

There was a pause, then the sound of a wooden bar being pulled away. The gate swung open, revealing an old man. He was short, barely reaching my belly, but being fair to him I ate my veggies this life so i'm quite big, he had tired eyes that seemed to take in everything about me with a single glance.

"You a huntsman, boy? Bit young for that," he said, squinting up at me.

"Not yet," I answered. "But I'm on my way to Beacon to take the entrance exam."

The old man nodded slowly, a sad smile crossing his face. "Well, you couldn't have come at a better time. We've been expecting a huntsman from Beacon, but it seems they're running late. You'll do just fine, though. Even if it's just to lift folks' spirits."

He led me into the village, explaining as we walked. "We've had reports of a Beowolf pack and a few Ursas to the south. Seems like the last sweep missed them. I'm hoping you're not too scared of a little Grimm. Good training for a huntsman, eh?"

I wasn't exactly eager to fight a pack of Grimm just after getting my power,I had what? half a day of training, but I couldn't turn him down. My oath stirred within me, the golden glow of Crocea Mors growing slightly brighter. I'd made a promise to protect, and this was the right thing to do.

"I can stay for a day or two," I said, "but I'll need to head to Vale soon. Can't be late for the exam."

The old man—who I now assumed was the village mayor—nodded. "That'll do. Just walk around a bit, show yourself to the folks. If you can, show off that glowing aura of yours. It'll help calm the kids down."

He introduced himself as Earl Blueheart and offered me a room in the tower. I gratefully accepted. The small room had everything I needed: a single bed, a dresser, and a mini-fridge stocked with food. It wasn't much, but after jogging all night, it felt like luxury. I dropped my pack and placed my armor and Crocea Mors on the table. The sword still emitted a faint golden glow, a reminder of my oath.

As I lay in bed, exhaustion finally caught up with me. My aura and my oath intertwined inside me, filling me with a sense of peace. I had made the right choice. With a smile on my face, I let sleep take me. I was probably going to be busy later.

CP Bank: 200

Perks earned this chapter :None

Milestone this chapter:

100cp: a journey start: it seems that the village of Spalden is in trouble, will you help them young huntsmen?

The harsh glare of the midday sun shone through the window, right into my face.

It seems that the little nap I wanted to take had turned into a full-blown sleep. My aura feels a bit different now—stronger, more integrated. It seems that while I was asleep, my Oath fully merged with my aura. The once separate "pools" of energy were now mixed inside my soul, becoming one. It didn't make my aura larger, but it felt more responsive, more fluid to manipulate. Before, I could only bring it out around me in a simple glow. Now, it felt like I could push it outward, beyond just my skin.

Experimenting, I let the golden glow radiate from inside me. The warmth and energy spread around my body, waking me up, making me feel more... alive.

I got out of bed and made my way over to my backpack, quickly pulling out a clean change of clothes. Tucking them under my arm, I grabbed my armor and Crocea Mors before heading downstairs. Descending the steps, I found myself in the common area of the tower. It looked like a small community center, with TVs, sofas, and even an old terminal in the corner. There was also a fortified basement entrance if the Grimm breached the village defenses.

A few villagers were hanging around, probably unwinding after a hard day's work. Kids sat in front of the TV, eyes glued to the newest Mistralian cartoons. As I walked by, I got a few curious looks, but I was more focused on finding a place to shower. After almost eight hours on the road, I could smell the grime on me.

Finally, I found a bathroom with a shower. As I headed in, I overheard a snippet of conversation.

"...huntsmen…" "Grimm…" "...Help…"

Ignoring it for now, I peeled off my dirty clothes and stepped into the shower stall. To my surprise, there was hot water—a luxury I hadn't expected in such a small village. Back on the farm, I was used to bathing in cold water, so this felt like a blessing. Turning the hot knob, I let the water cascade over me, savoring the warmth. Running a hand through my blonde hair, I let out a content sigh. Hopefully, hot showers like this would become a regular thing now that I was out of the farm.

I grabbed some generic body soap and shampoo from the built-in dispensers and scrubbed myself clean. After a while, I reluctantly turned the water off, wrapped myself in a towel, and stepped out of the stall. In front of me, a wide mirror covered most of the wall, giving me a full view of my reflection.

Blue eyes stared back at me. I liked to think I lucked out in this life. An angular face, lean but not gaunt. Not to mention the body—years of farm work and good genetics had definitely paid off. I wasn't exactly built, but the slight six-pack peeking out from the towel looked pretty good.

Running a hand through my hair to shake off the water, I dressed quickly—just a simple shirt and jeans combo. I threw on my Pumpkin Pete hoodie to keep the cold steel plates of my armor from digging into my skin, then strapped my equipment on and headed out of the bathroom, feeling ready to start my first real job as a Huntsman. Well, technically speaking.

The village looked quaint now that it wasn't the crack of dawn. It was smaller than Ansel—just a circle of houses around a little park, with the tower at its center. Kids played on the playground while adults went about their daily chores.

I scanned the area, deciding on where I could hang around and be visible. My first thought was the bar—a place with a good flow of people, especially when night fell. Another option was the village gate, standing guard where no one would blink twice at a Huntsman doing his job.

But being a teenager with an overprotective family and an "old soul" at the back of my mind, I made a beeline for the bar, hoping to snag my first drink of this life.

Halfway there, though, a little girl's cry caught my attention.

She sat beneath the monkey bars, clutching a scraped knee. Blood trickled from the wound as she tried to stifle her sobs, her little body hiccupping with each failed attempt to hold back the tears.

I approached, my intention twofold: help the kid and maybe build a little goodwill. Scraped knees are no joke, after all.

She looked up at me, eyes wide with tears. "M-mister, I... I fell from the bars and **hiccup** scraped my knee. It hurts, mister!" Her voice wavered as she spoke, struggling to stay brave but failing miserably.

"Don't worry kid," I said, hamming it up to her benefit while I crouched down to her level. "I can make it better. I'm a Huntsman after all—it's my job to protect people, whether it's from Grimm or a scraped knees."

My words felt awkward, but I smiled warmly. "I just need you to give me a little smile," I added with a grin.

She tried, bless her heart, but the forced smile quickly crumbled into more sobs and hiccups. Gently, I raised my hand, focusing my aura into it. My palm glowed with a soft golden light, which quickly shifted to a soothing blue. The little girl's eyes widened as I used one of my Oath abilities—Lay on Hands—to heal her wound. It was such a small injury that the energy it took barely registered in my reserves, a tenth of my aura I think, not too sure.

Her tears stopped, replaced by a look of awe as the wound disappeared, leaving only dried blood as a reminder. The sobs stopped, and her smile finally became real.

Before she could say anything, I ruffled her hair. "See? All better. Now, go play with your friends and tell them about the cool Huntsman you met."

The mayor had asked me to spread the word about me being in the village, and this seemed like a good start.

Before she ran off, the girl did something that surprised me—she hugged my leg in a quick, heartfelt gesture.

"Thank you, mister Huntsman!" she said, beaming. "I'm gonna go tell everyone!"

Before she could dash away, I remembered something. Digging into my pocket, I pulled out a small chocolate bar, it was from the Vacoan delight brand, quality stuff. Offering it to her, I watched as her smile quadrupled in size. With that, she scampered off to join her friends.

Feeling satisfied, I resumed my walk to the bar, the weight of my new responsibilities settling on my shoulders and it felt kinda good. Just as I got there, though, I felt a strange sensation. My soul burned and my vision trembled then suddenly I was back in the void.

The gigantic tree was there again, its branches sprawling across the endless expanse. This time, I noticed something new—a single branch was glowing faintly. Amidst the darkness, it shone like a distant star. Then, without warning, one of its thousands of branches lit up, and I was back in the village—bringing something with me.

The ability was called Black Wings, and it did exactly what it sounded like. With a quick surge of aura, a pair of wings—golden, like my aura—unfurled from my back.

I couldn't help but wonder if the tree was doing this on purpose. First, it made me a Paladin, and now it was giving me golden wings? Once could be an accident, twice could be coincidence. Now I just needed to wait for the third time to see if there was a pattern.

The villagers stared, their mouths agape, especially the kids. One guy even pulled out his scroll to record me.

Keeping my head high, I shut off the wings and aura, making my way inside the bar. The stares followed me, but I pretended not to notice. I suppose mission accomplished—now they'd have plenty to talk about for a while.

The bar was more of a tavern than a modern drinking hole. The counter stood in the center of the room, with a fox Faunus bartender polishing glasses. A dead fireplace sat in one corner, and a few patrons nursed beers, likely unwinding after a day's work.

As I approached the bar, the bartender raised an eyebrow.

"What're you having?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"A mug of beer, please. Oh," I added, fishing a flask from my pocket, "could you fill this with something stronger? I've got the Lien to cover it."

He eyed me suspiciously. "How old are you, kid?"

"Old enough to hunt Grimm," I lied, keeping my voice steady. I doubted he'd question me after the winged display outside. "Or are you really going to card the guy who's protecting your village?"

He sighed but didn't argue. "Fair enough."

He returned with a mug of beer and my flask, which he said was filled with whiskey brewed in the village.

The evening stretched into night, one drink turning into two, then four. Aura seemed to make it harder to get drunk, so I switched to stronger stuff to get a slight buzz. The bar filled up with locals looking to spend their hard-earned Lien, and after a while, I decided I'd lingered long enough.

I moved to the village gate to pass the time. Hours drifted by as I experimented with my aura and abilities. I figured out how to make my sword glow and turn it off again and discovered a new effect when I poured too much aura into an attack. A Smite—a burst of radiant power I'd known about through cultural osmosis from D&D, a kind of "Divine" damage, seems perfect for creatures of darkness like the Grimm.

The wings, though, were trickier. I attempted a few short flights but nearly crashed into a roof. I'd need more time to get used to them.

As night deepened, I patrolled the perimeter of the village. It was uneventful until I noticed a smell that sent me on edge, quickly scanning the tree lines I saw it.

Red eyes peering out from the trees.

Grimm.

The sight of those red eyes triggered something instinctual in me. My heart started racing, and adrenaline flooded my veins as I focused on the treeline. There was no mistaking it—Grimm were coming.

I quickly alerted the nearest villagers. "Grimm incoming! Get to safety!" I shouted. My voice carried, and within moments, the village bell began to ring out, its harsh clangs warning everyone to seek shelter. People scrambled, children were ushered inside, and the adults who remained bolted the doors and windows.

I turned back to the treeline, gripping Crocea Mors tightly. The weapon felt like an extension of my will as I summoned my aura, letting it pulse outward to prepare for the fight ahead. I could feel the familiar golden glow envelop my body, reinforcing my skin and bones like a protective shield. But I also felt something new—a deeper connection, like my aura had settled into every part of me, more fluid and responsive.

A chill ran down my spine as the Grimm emerged from the darkness of the forest. Beowolves, at least a dozen of them, crept forward on all fours, their red eyes gleaming with malevolence. Behind them, I could make out the bulkier shapes of two Ursa Majors, their spikes glinting in the moonlight. These creatures were vicious, their hunger for destruction almost palpable in the air.

I was afraid but my oath deep in my soul comforted me, the people here are counting on me, and I can't do a poor showing on my first "Mission".

I took a deep breath, steadying myself, then flexed my fingers. I felt the surge of energy as golden wings unfurled from my back. Their brilliant light cut through the night, casting long shadows across the ground. The wings felt more solid this time, more a part of me, like I could trust them not to falter against the dark.

The Beowolves, sensing the challenge, howled in unison and charged.

With a powerful beat of my wings, I launched myself into the air, rising above the Grimm. The village below became a blur as I focused on my enemies. From this height, I had the advantage, and I intended to use it.

I raised Crocea Mors high, channeling my aura into the blade until it glowed a bright, burning gold. The first Beowolf leaped into the air to meet me, its claws extended. But I was faster. I slashed down with all my might, and the force of the blow, combined with the aura-infused blade, cleaved the creature in two mid-air. It disintegrated into ash before it even hit the ground.

I twisted mid-flight, wings catching the air, and dove toward another Beowolf. This time, I aimed for its legs, sweeping them out from under it before thrusting my sword into its chest. Another puff of ash as it crumbled away.

But the Grimm were relentless. The Ursa Majors roared as they charged, their massive bodies barreling through the trees like battering rams. The ground shook with each of their steps.

My heart pounded in my chest as I eyed the massive beasts. I knew I'd need to hit them harder. Smite, I thought, pouring my aura into my next strike. Crocea Mors glowed even brighter now, a searing light that hummed with divine power.

I aimed for the closest Ursa, diving straight for its head. The creature reared up, claws swinging at me in a desperate attempt to swat me away. But I dodged, wings propelling me downwards just in time. With a roar of my own, I brought my sword down in a powerful arc, channeling the full force of the Smite into the blow.

The moment the blade connected, a radiant explosion of light erupted from the point of impact, engulfing the Ursa in golden flames. The Grimm let out a deafening bellow as it disintegrated into a cloud of dark smoke and golden light, leaving only its spikes clattering to the ground to be consumed by the golden flames.

The remaining Ursa, enraged, turned its attention to me, its eyes burning with hatred. It charged, swiping at me with its massive claws. I flapped my wings, barely avoiding the strike, but I could feel the rush of air as the claws grazed past.

Landing on the ground a few feet away, I decided to change tactics. My wings folded back as I shifted my stance. This time, instead of using speed, I stood my ground and waited for it to come to me.

The Ursa bellowed again, lunging forward. But just before its claws could connect, I raised my shield and planted my feet firmly. The impact was brutal, the force sending shockwaves up my arms. But my aura held strong, absorbing the worst of it.

With the Ursa momentarily off-balance, I struck. I swept my sword in a wide arc, slashing across its chest. It staggered, roaring in pain as golden energy dissolved a fair bit of its chest, but it still didn't fall.

Channeling the last of my stored aura, I thrust my sword forward, aiming for the Grimm's heart. Smite activated again, and this time, the force was even greater. The Ursa let out one final, guttural roar before collapsing into fire and ash, its massive body dissolving at my feet.

As the dust settled, I looked around. The remaining Beowolves, seeing their leaders fall, hesitated for a moment. But only for a moment. Their instinct to kill soon overtook their fear, and they rushed me all at once.

I wasn't worried. With the Ursa out of the way, I had the upper hand. I spread my wings wide and took to the sky once more, even with my arm throbbing I managed to dodge the Beowolves' wild leaps as I flew just out of their reach.

Then, with a fierce cry, I descended into their ranks like a meteor. I spun in mid-air, my sword slashing in wide arcs as I cut through their ranks. The golden light of my aura left a trail in the air as one by one, the Beowolves fell, disintegrating into golden fire with the weight of my strikes.

Within minutes, the battlefield was silent. The last of the Grimm had fallen. I stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, my wings folding back into my aura. The glow around me dimmed as I lowered Crocea Mors, the golden light fading from its blade.

However, my jubilation was short-lived. Another Ursa barreled out of the treeline, this time a Minor. I raised my sword once more, preparing to meet it head-on. My aura pool was running low from the Smites, but I was confident I could still tank a few hits before… well best not to think about that.

As it began its charge, I suddenly heard a loud noise from the trees.

BANG

The shot struck the Ursa in the head with pinpoint accuracy, sending the creature tumbling to the ground before it dissolved into smoke.

Catching my breath, I lowered Crocea Mors. My sword arm was burning from the strain of the fight. Between all the wasted movement and basically winging it, I couldn't help but chuckle at that thought. The clash with the Ursa had left my arms feeling like they were on fire, barely able to hold up my shield.

Out of the forest stepped a Huntsman, dressed in a red jacket with the most glorious mustache I had ever seen. In his hand, he held an axe-and-blunderbuss hybrid, the barrel still smoking from the shot that had saved me.

The village bell finally stopped ringing. As I looked around, the villagers began to emerge from their homes, eyes wide with awe, whispering among themselves as they pointed at me.

That was the last thing I saw before exhaustion caught up with me. It seemed those Smites had taken more out of me than I realized. As my vision blurred, I felt a pair of strong arms catch me before I hit the ground.

Then, blissful oblivion took me.

CP Bank: 400

Perks earned this chapter :

Cp cost: 200 Black Wings (Madoka Magica: Wraith Timeline) [Domain]

Did something or someone set you free...or bind you with grief? A pair of magical wings can sprout from your form, made of energy and entirely malleable in shape and size. This enables you to fly at your running speed, and merely having them revealed like this greatly increases your own agility. If you're someone with...well, problems, you may choose to manifest these as wings of Grief, like Homura Akemi herself will eventually end up using.

Milestone this chapter:

Oath fulfilled : Aid others(100 CP)

Oath fulfilled : Protect the weak (300 CP)