And here is the chapter proper.

Oof, let me tell you, writing this one was difficult. It was written, for the most part, two words at a time, during the last few seconds of lunch, at work.

Aside from that. Work was pretty hellish. Blugh.

The writing thing I was making an entry for is over. So yay.

But worry not! There's another one coming up I'mma be trying to write an entry for! ^_^

As usual, review and lemme know what you thought of the chapter. Liked and didn't.

Also check your PMs.

Kudos to Keel the Swift for Betaing.

I'm way too tired for an emoticon. =,=

=][=

"I have no idea what I'm even doing here," Emerald muttered as she opened the last utterly empty drawer in the utterly empty room.

"Well," Mercury's annoying voice said in her headset, "if you need a reminder…"

"Up yours, Mercury!" she cut him off as she looked at four identically made beds. She scowled and pulled out a coin then threw it at one of them. It bounced fairly high without so much as wrinkling the bedsheet.

She laid flat on the floor to look underneath the beds, but found nothing.

Emerald stood back up and crossed her arms. There was nothing, absolutely nothing. If she didn't know any better, she'd assume this room was unoccupied.

"How's it going on your end?" she asked.

"Oh you know," Mercury grunted, a metallic thud came through her headset followed by static interference. After it cleared up he said, "Hanging in there, almost done even."

"Remember not to make a mess or Cinder will kill you."

"Oh, Em! Are you actually worried about me? I'm touched!"

"Shut up."

Emerald decided to give the whole room one last careful look. The bathroom, the floor, the desks. But it was all empty.

It was right as she was about to give up that she finally found something. A few strands of long black hair tangled in one of the folds of the beds. She brought it up to her nose. It had a faint citrusy smell.

"Well," she muttered, "he certainly works quickly."

"What's up?" asked the living embodiment of aggravation at the other end of the call right before a robotic voice demanded identification. It was cut off by two metallic thumps.

"He's had a girl here," she said, tossing the hairs away. "Guy must be quite the playboy."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Mercury muttered. "The guy's fans are pretty…rabid. If he is who we think he is anyway."

"Whatever."

Emerald used her Scroll to check the security feed from the hallway, and seeing it was clear, stepped out of the room. She updated Cinder on her meager findings, then checked how that man was doing.

Emerald could not help but be grudgingly impressed. It wasn't even noon and he'd already swept through most of the four-man rounds. For Cinder's sake, Emerald hoped Mercury wasn't full of crap.

Or well…more than usual anyways.

=][=

Nebula Violette bit her bottom lip as Professor Port and Doctor Oobleck introduced them for the second time. A part of her was glad at this second shot at the Vytal cup, another part was filled with trepidation at her opponent.

The so-called 'Mysterious Stranger'. An unprecedented addition to the tournament, facing a nigh impossible gauntlet of combat for a shot at the gold.

He was a little taller than average, dressed like the Sword Hunter, and he had what looked like a classic sword sheathed at his hip. And that was all that was known of him. He'd yet to even draw the weapon even after more than twelve back to back fights.

Her eyes flickered to his Aura monitor, which read ninety eight.

Twelve fights, outnumbered and outgunned, and his Aura had only dropped two percent.

She shook her head as the holographic displays for the terrain roulette started their spin. "Dew, Octavia, as soon as the buzzer goes off, you two charge him, Gwen use your knives to corral him in. I'll try to nail him with an Ice Bolt to lock him down. Dew, if you see an opportunity to blow him off the arena, take it."

The girls of NDGO (indigo) nodded. Nebula wasn't sure why, but she could feel the stranger's eye on her, even if his hood and mask hid his features completely, she was certain he was staring right at her.

The roulette stopped, showing desert and city ruins.

Nebula smirked as the arena formed, home field advantage twice in a row.

"Begin!" Dr. Oobleck roared through the speakers.

Their opponent turned his back and sprinted to the ruins. Dew and Octavia rushed forward hot on his heels, spreading out to flank him, with Octavia gaining a lead as she used her Semblance to slide forward over the terrain. Gwen threw three knives in a single lightning fast motion. Nebula aimed one of her few precious Ice Dust Bolts at his legs as he began a pirouette, and pulled the trigger.

As she heard the 'kthunk!' of her crossbow firing the bolt, she saw their opponent snatch two of Gwen's knives out of the air and threw one back as he finished his spin, the knife flew and unerringly struck the bolt, causing it to detonate into a not insignificant chunk of ice mid-air, completely wasting the payload.

To add injury to insult, he threw the other knife at Dew who screeched in agony as the point of the knife bounced off her left eye, completely ruining her concentration and causing the whirlwind she'd started to summon to fizzle out.

Without missing a beat he rushed into the first of the destroyed buildings and all but disappeared.

"Stop!" Nebula ordered; Octavia came to a sliding halt just short of the door the Mysterious Stranger had disappeared through. "Regroup!"

More than one team had been taken out thanks to this exact tactic. He broke line of sight then ambushed the enemy team one by one, either taking them down before support could reach them, or taking out a big chunk of their Aura before disengaging and repeating the same tactic.

The very moment Octavia turned her back on the door to rejoin the rest of NDGO, a dark grey arm materialized out of the doorway, snaked around Octavia's neck and snatched her into the darkness of the building before her eyes had finished widening in surprise.

"Dammit!" Gwen shouted and rushed forward, readying more knives.

'Crap,' Nebula thought and sprinted after her teammate, reloading her weapon before shifting it to its cutlass configuration.

The two of them burst through the doorway, weapons ready, only to see Octavia slumped against the floor with her back to the wall, her face a brighter red than her hair.

"Octavia! What happened!?" Nebula demanded, keeping an eye on the hole that led to the second story of the ruin they were in.

"I'm not sure," Octavia answered somewhat airily. "He just…He looked like he was going to kiss me, then he said, 'not her' and ran off."

…The hell? She exchanged glances with Gwen, who shrugged. Then Nebula came to a startling realization. "Dew is alone!"

She sprinted back outside, her teammates hot on her heels, and she got to see the Mysterious Stranger deliver a spear finger strike to Dew's neck with the fingers of his left hand, then stomped forward past her guard and buried his right elbow into her solar plexus with an impact that produced a visible shockwave. He snatched Dew's spear from her hand, spun it once and cast it.

The spear screamed past Nebula before she could dodge, she heard it impact something behind her along with a huff that could only be someone's breath being knocked out of them.

Nebula brought up her crossbow, aiming at him as he once more began a pirouette, and loosed a bolt. The Mysterious Stranger snatched her bolt out of the air, completed his turn, and drove the bolt down into the base of Dew's neck, driving her back to the ground and utterly ruining her attempt to crawl back to her feet.

He planted a boot on the back of Dew's neck, then took off running toward the desert section of the arena, driving Dew partially into the asphalt with the force of his kickoff. The buzzer that indicated an elimination sounded as Nebula reloaded her crossbow, Gwen stepped next to her and loosed another set of knives as Nebula fired.

The Stranger sidestepped the bolt, but snatched two more knives out of the air with seemingly lazy grace, then continued unimpeded to dodge into the tightly clustered half-buried boulders that made up the desert terrain.

"And the Mysterious Stranger continues to make excellent use of hit and run tactics!" Oobleck's voice blurted over the speakers. "A truly fearsome opponent who seems quite comfortable attacking always from an unexpected location!"

She tuned out whatever else the announcers said and glowered at the desert terrain, the asshole was in their home turf, no way she'd mess up that opportunity. "Octavia, you slide around, draw the bastard out," she ordered as she pulled out one of her two Gravity Dust Bolts and loaded her crossbow with it. "You and Gwen keep him distracted, when I see an opening, I'll rush in and nail him with this bolt at point blank. I don't care how well he can snatch them out of the air, I doubt he is fast enough to catch one fired from close range. Once it hits him, we can finish him at our leisure."

"R-Right," Octavia gasped.

She turned to her team member and saw her holding her stomach. Nebula raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"That spear hit me really hard, okay!?" Octavia groused defensively, then activated her Semblance and was off before Nebula could respond.

She nodded at Gwen, who nodded back, and the two of them rushed to the desert terrain, both of them jumping on the large boulders to gain some altitude.

They watched as Octavia skated between rocks with grace. Then she skidded behind a boulder and did not come out the other side.

"Crap!" Nebula said, and jumped down from her perch, landing with a roll she sprinted toward where she last saw her teammate.

As she neared the boulder, the buzzer for an elimination sounded. The moment she had a glimpse of her opponent she brought up her crossbow, the point of the bolt less than an arm's length away from him, and pulled the trigger.

He twisted to the side so the bolt sailed past him.

What the hell!? Who had reflexes that fast!? Did he have a speed Semblance!?

Leaving Octavia laid out on the floor at his feet, he scrambled up and over the boulder and disappeared.

Nebula swore and rushed after him, trying to hear the flapping of his half-cape over the roaring of the crowd, but lost him in the maze.

"Gwen!" she screamed, "we need to group up! Gwen!"

"Coming!"

The sound of her friend's voice brought some relief to Nebula.

Her scream, followed by a gasp, the familiar sound of fists striking flesh, and the buzzer, brought the opposite.

Nebula transformed her weapon to a cutlass and put her back to a boulder. If he wanted her, he'd have to come at her from the front.

He proved her wrong when he landed feet first on top of her weapon, driving it from her hand. He caught her follow up punch in one hand and her left wrist in the other, then pushed her arms above her head and held both of her wrists with one hand, his grip as solid as a statue yet strangely gentle. He pressed his body tightly against hers, threading one leg through hers and locking it, denying her the ability to knee him in the crotch.

She struggled as best she could, but it was like trying to shift a boulder. "How the hell are you so strong!?"

His right hand cupped her cheek gently, and she stilled, not fighting as he turned her face up, wow, he was really close. His eyes shone gold in the depths of his hood as he looked intently into her eyes.

He sighed as he looked away and muttered, "Not her."

"W-What do y—"

She was caught completely off-guard by the grip he had over her wrists tightening like a vice before he drove a dagger into her neck right on the jugular, the stabbing pain blinding her for a moment. She regained her senses as he pulled his hand back, and realized he was stabbing her with one of Gwen's knives.

"St—!" she was cut off once more as he drove the knife into the same spot. Struggling against his grip proved useless, he was holding her slightly above the ground, and pressed as she was to the boulder she couldn't get the leverage she needed to buck him off. Her struggles only succeeded in causing his grip on her wrists to tighten further, to the point that her hands went completely numb even through her Aura.

Her Aura held for a total of seven stabs into her neck.

After the buzzer announced his victory, he let her go and Nebula slumped to the floor, massaging her neck with trembling hands. He dropped the knife point first in front of her.

"Give that back to your teammate," he ordered as he turned his back to her. "You should go ahead and leave, I have several more matches to go through."

Nebula looked at the Aura monitor. He was still at ninety eight.

"Who the hell are you?" she croaked.

He looked at her over his shoulder, then shrugged. "I'm not important."

With that he dismissed her and walked back to the center of the arena.

Nebula glared at his back before sullenly plucking the throwing knife from the sand and staggering to her feet. "Asshole."

=][=

Winter Schnee watched with growing consternation as the 'Mysterious Stranger' systematically dismantled team BRNZ (bronze). She tapped the arm of her chair twice before she managed to still her fingers, chastising herself for succumbing to such a blatant show of weakness.

"Something on your mind, Specialist Schnee?" General Ironwood asked.

She turned to regard him as he stared intently at the match. She had found it strange that he was in the booth she had reserved rather than with Headmaster Ozpin, but he was her Superior, so she could only assume he had his reasons.

"Sir!" she responded, sitting straighter in her chair. "Permission to speak freely."

His eyes narrowed as the 'Mysterious Stranger' attacked a red haired member of BRNZ, stabbing his knuckles into pressure points that caused his opponent's hand to spasm open, then used the boy's cattle prod to stun a dark skinned brown-haired boy with saws on his vambraces at the same time that he used the redhead as a shield against a sniper and BRNZ's leader simultaneously.

"Permission granted," General Ironwood said absently.

"Sir, are you certain this is the Sword Hunter?" she asked without preamble.

The general furrowed his brow as the buzzer for the first elimination sounded. "It is almost a certainty. What brings this question, Specialist?"

"Aside from the fact that he has yet to use a sword…He does not fight like a Huntsman, sir," she answered as the buzzer sounded a second time. "His movements are swift and precise, but they are utilitarian in the extreme, lacking any flourish or personal touch, it's almost like watching an advanced automaton rather than a human."

The buzzer sounded a third time. "Furthermore, his tactics: isolating his enemies and ambushing individuals, disrupting the team's tempo, utilizing them against each other or as shields for his own movements and attacks, turning their own weapons against them and their team members, exclusively utilizing attacks which would be immediately lethal or crippling were it not for Aura."

The buzzer sounded a fourth time, the match had lasted less than four minutes.

"Sir," she said as her hands clenched tightly into fists. "He has been trained to fight against and eliminate Huntsmen, I would even hazard to call it his specialty."

The General stared down at the supposed Sword Hunter. The only thing she could see of him from such a far distance was that he was turned in their direction, but she'd be willing to put down Lien on the Sword Hunter staring right back at the General.

She suppressed a shiver as the two teachers announced that the 'Mysterious Stranger' would now be facing off against the teams that were eliminated during the doubles rounds.

"Sir, if he is the Sword Hunter…"

"Then the situation must be handled carefully," the General cut her off.

"Of course sir, but if I may ask. Why is he being allowed to compete in the Vytal tournament? Why is this happening at all? If he is who you say he is, then he is no student. Should we not be calling in the Ace-Ops? Prepare a strike team just in case that h—"

"That will be enough, Specialist," the General stated softly.

Winter closed her mouth instantly.

General Ironwood considered his words for a long time, the buzzer denoting a disqualification seemed to spur him to continue. "The answers to those questions are need-to-know. There is a plan in place, and countermeasures are being prepared in case things turn for the worse. For now, simply stay alert."

"Yes sir," Winter answered and turned back to the match, only to see she had missed most of the fight between the 'Mysterious Stranger' and half of team CRDL (cardinal). As she watched, he dodged his opponent's enormous mace with a swift pirouette and drove a spinning backfist into the hopelessly outclassed boy's temple, followed swiftly by an elbow to his solar plexus and a knife hand to his neck. He then jumped seven feet in the air, clamped his legs around his opponent's head, and did three consecutive twists, each of which would have broken the boy's neck were it not for his Aura.

The buzzer sounded and the 'Mysterious Stranger' dismounted from the larger boy and turned his back on his former opponent. Seemingly uncaring of his continued victory, or the cheers and boos from the crowd.

The palm of her hand itched for the grip of her weapon, before she berated herself for her childishness and vanished the urge to go down there and test herself against the only black mark in her service record.

She had to wonder, was there anyone in the tournament who could even match the Sword Hunter?

=][=

"Oi Sylvie! Get off!" Vernal groused as she shoved the heavier girl back, only for the idiot to rush back and press her tits against the back of Vernal's head again.

"But Vernal!" Sylvia whined. "You have like, the only Scroll without a cracked screen in the whole camp!"

"Then be more careful with your stuff!" she grumbled and shoved back, but was unable to throw the affable girl off. At least the evening wasn't awfully hot, though it was rather muggy. Maybe she could ask Raven to make the weather a bit cooler? Thinking of her boss gave her an idea that just might get Sylvia out of her damn tent. "Besides! Raven's scroll is also not broken, and hers has a bigger screen!"

Sylvia tightened her arms around Vernal and rested her chin on top of Vernal's head. "Yeah, but she'll kick my ass if I ask to borrow her Scroll! Especially since she's sneaking looks at how Shirou's kicking ass while pretending to be pissed at everyone slacking off to watch."

The day had turned into something of an impromptu holiday for the Branwens as they all watched their cook/mechanic/weaponsmith/second-best warrior literally step into the Vytal festival out of nowhere and start cleaning the floor with all of those Huntsmen hopefuls.

Vernal would be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed watching all those snooty kids, with their fancy weapons and fancier combat school diplomas, get their asses handed to them by her little brother while he fought unarmed.

"Why do you think he's not using swords though?" Sylvia said, her arms tightening around Vernal when she saw Shirou walk through some asshole's glowing trumpet blast, his half-cape streaming behind him, an orange-haired girl rushed him while he was occupied, swinging glowing nunchucks at him.

Vernal smirked as he used the weird sound tunnel thing to his advantage, allowing it to blow him back so the girl's attack missed by a hair's breadth. He then dug in his heel, his hand shooting out and capturing the girl's arm. He put her in a hold and held her face close.

"Huh," Vernal said as Sylvia sighed. "Guess she has green eyes."

"I really hate that about him you know," Sylvia muttered, finally letting go of Vernal.

Seeing as she missed Shirou driving the girl's face into a fire pillar before continually slamming her head against the floor until her Aura broke, Vernal could not help but be a little concerned.

"Sylvie?" she asked, putting her Scroll down as the now familiar buzz of a disqualification sounded along with loud cheering from the camp. "What's up?"

Sylvia hugged her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, looking genuinely vulnerable for the first time since she was a child.

"I've tried everything, Vernal," she muttered, tucking an errant lock of silver hair behind an ear. "I've tried being coy, I've tried being nice, I've tried being aggressive and passive. I've tried buying him stuff and cooking for him. Hell, I know he should be into me cause I got him drunk enough to make out with me once!

"But…it just…it feels awful to see him pay more attention to any random bitch that he runs across who has the right colored eyes, than he's ever paid me." She looked up, her large blue eyes dewy, the jagged scar on her cheek pulling her lip up, turning her pout into a derisive smirk. "Is it…do you think it's because of my scar? Is that why he won't give me the time of day?"

"Oh Sylvie," Vernal said and hugged the girl's head to her chest. Sylvia returned the hug fiercely and sniffled into her shirt. "It's not that, I assure you it's not that."

"How can you know!?" Sylvia demanded with a hiccup.

"Because he's my idiot of a brother," Vernal answered, stroking the girl's hair. "It's taken me a while but I've sort of managed to figure out how he thinks…kinda. I'm relatively sure he finds scars sexy."

"Bullshit," Sylvia muttered, not relenting on the hug.

"Eh, maybe a little," Vernal admitted, feeling the wet spot on her shirt getting wider, the sensation bringing forth a surprisingly strong feeling of nostalgia. When was the last time she'd done that for Shirou? Four years ago? Six? She shook her head, dismissing the thought. "It's not any fault of yours Sylvie, it's just…for a while there, that girl he remembers was all Shirou had.

"You didn't really get to know him until Raven and I had a few months to work on him. He used to be…cold, almost mechanical. Like he had no idea how to be a person, but there is one thing I can tell you." Vernal waited for Sylvia to lean back enough to meet her eyes, Sylvia's eyes were puffy and red. "Ever since you started to force him to be your friend, he became better. You…you forced him to learn how to people, if that makes any sense. He smiles more often, I think if you keep it up, you'll join Raven and I in the ranks of immunity from discipline."

Sylvia's eyes sparkled. Raven's and Vernal's immunity from Shirou upholding discipline via not-tasty but nonetheless nutritious food, had made them the envy of the entire Tribe. When next Sylvia spoke, it was with repressed hope and awe in equal mixture. "You really think so?"

"Yeah," Vernal answered, feeling not at all certain about that, maybe if she asked him to, Shirou would include Sylvia in the immunity? Worth a try. "And once you have that, well, it's basically one step closer to getting my idiot brother to notice your feelings."

"You're not just stringing me along right?" Sylvia asked, her voice low. "You actually think I have a chance, right?"

"Sylvie, you've gotten farther than anyone else." Vernal very carefully did not mention that was not saying much, but Sylvia had at least managed to trade spit with Vernal's idiot of a little brother, even if he was too drunk to really agree or disagree at the time. That had to count as square one, right?

Judging by the girl's beaming smile, that was the right thing to say, and Sylvia's propensity not to think too hard about things was working in Vernal's favor.

"Now," Vernal mock-grumbled and playfully shoved Sylvia back just hard enough for the idiot to fall over with a startled squeak. "I've missed out on enough Shirou beating the shit out of Huntsman kids."

Without another word, she turned her Scroll back on just in time to see Shirou slam his knee into a wolf-faunus' face three times, the buzzer sounded and Shirou let his stunned opponent fall to the ground.

Turning his back on the recovering faunus he walked sedately to the center of the arena and crossed his arms.

"You know," Sylvia said as she once more hugged Vernal from behind, causing her to sigh. "Shirou could stand to be a bit more sportsmanlike. At this rate everyone will end up thinking he's an asshole."

Vernal barked a laugh. "If more chicks think he's an asshole, that'd mean less competition for you Sylvie!"

"You're right," Sylvia answered in an awed whisper before throwing herself forward so hard she almost drove Vernal to the floor and shouted, "Don't you stop being an ass, Shirou!"

"Aaargh! Shut up and stop distracting me!" Vernal groused with one more shove back, which while it regrettably failed to dislodge the silver haired parasite, did at least let her sit in a more comfortable position.

"Okay okay!" Sylvia chuckled as the two idiot announcers said something about coffee. Which made Vernal feel like drinking some. But she didn't have a fire going, and she was feeling much too lazy to get Shirou's electric stove and prepare some.

Stupid announcers.

=][=

Velvet Scarlatina took a deep breath and tried to calm her wildly beating heart. As she walked out of the hallway into the arena, the roar of the crowd went from 'deafening' to 'physical blow'.

She shook out her hands in an attempt to settle her nerves.

It had taken her a long time to convince Coco to let her fight here. After all, if she fought Shirou with everything she had, Team CVFY's secret weapon would no longer be all that secret. But Velvet could not find it in herself to back down.

This was the ever enigmatic Sword Hunter, the man who had seemingly mastered every classical weapon. She had a plushie of him in her room and had watched dozens of hours of videos and documentaries about him, she'd put a hundred and fifty three hours into learning his character in Kung-Fu Ninja Slayers Ultimate Death Battle 2. It might not be all that far off the mark to say she idolized him, though certainly not to the same extent as Ruby.

But he himself had said he would not stay in Beacon for more than a few days. Velvet might well never get another shot at this.

Shirou turned to look at her and Yatsu, and her heart began thundering in her chest so hard she could feel it slamming against her ribcage. Her vision narrowed and it took all she had not to trip over her own feet and plant her face on the floor.

Just what the hell was she doing? Challenging the Sword Hunter of all people? The world started to tilt as the Sword Hunter loomed so large he could blot out the sun.

She could hear Dr. Oobleck and Prof. Port talking, but it was strangely muffled as her breathing sped up, faster and faster. Her stomach started roiling as her whole body broke out into a cold sweat.

A big warm hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed gently, she blinked and turned to look at it in confusion, then followed it up to the shoulder, then to Yatsu's face.

He smiled gently down at her then spoke gently. "Don't worry, Velvet, you've got this."

She stared up at him for several more moments before closing her eyes and forcing herself to take deep breaths. Using his hand on her shoulder as a reference until the world stopped swaying.

When she opened her eyes, the arena had stopped rumbling as the biomes had finished setting up, and Shirou was no longer a looming Titan, he was just a man. A strong, fast, and very skilled man, but a man all the same. She nodded to Yatsu and put her hands up in a boxing stance.

"BEGIN!" shouted Prof. Port.

Velvet and Shirou kicked off the ground at the same instant, barreling toward each other at such speed that his tattered half-cape billowed behind him and her ears lay flat against the top of her skull.

Due to his longer stride, they did not quite meet in the center. The both of them threw out the exact same right straight, the middle knuckle extended to focus all of the force behind their charge and punch into a pinpoint strike. The both of them parried with their left hand, turning their palm to force the strike away from their head. The both of them stomped hard on the ground and pushed forward and bent their knees, twisting their core to drive their right elbow into their opponent's solar plexus with all of their weight.

Both aborted the attempt as their forearms clashed against each other, since Shirou was significantly heavier, he pushed Velvet back, giving her the space she needed to throw a kick at his knee, a kick he checked with one of his own, as he did the second and third.

The both of them put power into their leg at the same moment and pushed off from each other, landing several feet apart and immediately circled to their right. Both of their left arms dropping to their waist, their left shoulder rising to cover their chin and their right hand forming a fist and guarding the right side of their head.

That's when Velvet smirked and activated Anesidora, in an instant, glowing wireframe renditions of the Sword Hunter's prized falchions were in her hands.

Velvet kicked off the floor with such force that the concrete cracked. Shirou had a scant instant to recover from his surprise before Velvet's left blade nearly tore his skull in two. He threw himself back, the blade cutting a line through his hood. Velvet stomped forward and threw herself into a flurry of blows. She targeted his eyes, his jugular, the arteries of his armpits and the inside of his thighs. One attack led into the second led into the third led into the fourth, each attack just a little faster than the one before.

Velvet's Semblance, Photographic Memory, allowed her to replicate any movement perfectly after having seen it once. It also made studying for tests laughably easy, but that is a story for another time. Velvet had studied the Sword Hunter's attacks and movements for years, she'd devoured every video that showed him fighting in close quarters, and she had watched as he demolished all of the other teams in the competition.

So as he dodged to the side, letting her stab bypass him as she knew he would, she bent her knees, dropping almost to the ground and therefore dodging his retaliatory punch as he threw it. She twisted her body to dodge his rising knee and jumped, bringing the sword in her left hand up in a rising uppercut that he barely avoided by throwing his head back, again, as she had known he would.

She expertly twirled the sword in her left hand, using muscle memory not her own to reverse the grip on it so she could bring it down in a stab at his shoulder, then he finally pulled a move she had not seen him make. He slapped his hand into her stomach and straightened out his arm, and due to the fact that she was currently airborne, there was nothing Velvet could do other than be flung away like a rag doll, creating several feet of space between them as she landed.

Had it been Shirou who used that move, he would not have needed to jump, but Velvet's shorter stature had created that slight opening for him to disengage. The constructs in her hands expired, the Hardlight Dust discorporating into a glowing puff of smoke and powder.

The two of them took a few moments to measure each other up.

"So that's why you took so many pictures," Shirou said conversationally, his breathing fast but steady.

Velvet felt her chest swell with pride at the fact that she had gotten him to speak. She smirked at him. "Guilty as charged."

"So, when is your friend jumping in?" he asked as he stretched his neck.

"Whenever it is most opportune," she said and held her hand to the side, a wireframe phantom of the Sword Hunter's Red Spear settled into her hand.

Velvet could feel that something was missing. The weapon in her hand did not make her skin crawl or cause a cold shiver to travel up her spine. It didn't smell sickeningly of iron or seem to pulsate with barely repressed malice. But it was a powerful weapon nonetheless.

She hunched forward, her stance predatory as she held the spear by the butt and halfway to the neck. She saw his eyes widen as she rushed him, throwing three lightning quick stabs at his head, heart, and liver that he dodged by the barest of margins. She swept the spear in a short arc that almost bit into his neck, then arrested the movement and stabbed at his core. Shirou had to throw himself into a roll to dodge the stab and the follow-up sweep, digging his fingers into the concrete and literally pulling himself one-armed away from her, the tip of the spear biting into the concrete where his head had been an instant before.

He pushed off the ground and threw himself to his feet, setting his stance as Velvet rushed to meet him, her eyes flickering to the huge shadow behind Shirou for the barest instant.

Apparently, that flicker was all the warning he needed, as right as she neared him he turned, Yatsuhashi Daichi fell on him like a green-tinted avalanche an instant before she stabbed forward with her copy of Shirou's spear, an impact reverberating up the shaft and into her arms.

Yatsu's attack cratered the floor and raised a cloud of concrete dust, the noise of the crowd thunderous as they cheered the first possibly solid hit the 'Mysterious Stranger' had taken in his participation in the tournament.

As the dust fell away, Velvet saw a cold green glow emanating from the center, before a shove pushed her back. Her feet skidding on the floor, she looked up just in time to see Yatsu land with a loud thud some distance away.

The entire stadium went quiet as a grave as the dust settled enough to see Shirou, rising from a crouch, an enormous jagged-edged stone slab gripped in his right hand, Crocea Mors deployed in his left.

She could see his eyes shining gold out of his hood. Velvet felt a cold dread roll up and down her spine. He was different; before he had seemed relaxed but impatient. He'd walked with the gait of a man going to work, going through the motions but not truly giving it his whole attention.

Now his eyes were gold-colored flint, lines of cold green fire running from the sides of his head to the tips of his fingers warming up to blue, his glare pinning her where she stood.

Even though he did not speak as he walked out of the small crater Yatsu had made, Velvet understood.

The reason he had not drawn a weapon so far, was not as several of those he'd beaten believed, it wasn't to lord his superior skills over the Huntsmen students, rather it was because he simply hadn't needed to. He hadn't been pushed to the point where he'd need to take a fight seriously. Not until just now.

Just now, at that instant, had Velvet not given Yatsu's sneak attack away, or if they'd been a little faster. Shirou could have lost. Velvet had proven herself to be a threat to whatever goal he was pursuing by competing in the tournament.

From now on he would treat her as such.

Velvet had a single second to indulge in questioning her life's choices, as in the blink of an eye, he was in front of her. The jagged stone slab carving a shallow valley in the concrete, tearing through it in a rising slash aimed at her head.