"My Lord! My Lord!" A young, fair maiden burst into the training hall, where Jaune had been practicing with his instructor. A captain of the Royal Guard, he was above average in terms of strength when compared to other Huntsmen, and one of the few Royal Guards who had the Aura pool of a fully fledged Huntsman.

"Yes, Corette?" Jaune asked the young woman as he removed his practice helmet, allowing his long, blonde hair to fall free and his clean-shaven face to be seen. While he looked much older than his age would suggest, he was still a fifteen year old, and his age didn't allow him to grow more than a stubble. Thanks to his impressive height of one hundred and ninety-five centimetres, and his muscle-built body, most people usually thought he was in his early twenties at first.

"Grimm! Grimm!" The lady-in-waiting took large gulps of air as she stopped, the long, bright blue dress she was wearing threatening to spill out her breasts from the low-cut cleavage.

Trying, and failing to keep his gaze locked with her caramel-coloured eyes, Jaune tried again. "And? What of the Grimm?" He removed more of his training gear.

"Our patrols have reported a six-thousand strong Grimm horde nearing our borders! One of our eastern cities is in its direct path!" The girl's face was pale, most likely both from exhaustion and panic. Sighing, Jaune gestured towards the captain.

"Relay my orders to the Dame-General. I want at least several battalions of musketeers, cannons, greatswords, and pikemen ready to march!" While he himself would take control of the army, the duchess known as the Dame-General would undoubtedly have invaluable advice on tactics for him.

"You did good, Corette, go rest." Jaune dismissed the young maiden as he made his way towards his chambers, calling for a servant while doing so. "Someone bring me my armour!"

Most kings let themselves go after sitting on their throne. Due to politicking, a lack of enemies to stay in fighting shape, or sheer laziness, they would dump the responsibility on to their allies, generals, or even family members. Gauvain D'Arc did no such thing, as he was the Huntsman-King, the ruler of armies, and a strong huntsman and tactician in his own right. When he was off gallivanting in other kingdoms, however, it was Jaune that had to pick up the mantle and protect their kingdom.

This wasn't the first time he commanded an army, just two years prior another Grimm horde had come too close to their borders, and as such, Jaune, and the Dame-General, had ambushed the horde within the passages of the mountains to the southwest and stopped their rampage before they could cause anymore damage. He hadn't joined the fray that time, the Dame-General keeping him company to coach him in tactics and protect him in case any stray Grimm got around the lines.

"We're approaching the valley, Your Highness." The Dame-General's voice came from the side, mixing with the sound of their horses trotting and the marching army in tow. Against Grimm, using terrain advantages to their utmost limit was the key to success in most battles, as Grimm did not coordinate in a manner that would require a more… delicate and convoluted plan, one that accounted for the enemy's future movements, reaction to their current predicament, or their army composition. There were no true ranged Grimm, and although some like Griffons, or even worse yet, Wyverns, could use elemental spells, none would do it as their main method of attack.

"Good. Any news from the scouts?" Jaune's hand went to the barding of Hyperion, his warhorse, and one of the largest warhorses in the entire kingdom. He was a pure white stallion with white hair and blue eyes, and one of the few warhorses strong enough to carry someone of Jaune's impressive size into battle. Jaune had asked if the horse was a Schnee when he first saw him, as a joke, of course.

"The report just came three minutes ago, Your Highness, six hours until the horde reaches the fort." It was a man from further back that shouted, a senior scout of old age, he was organizing the small number of scout cavalry they had brought and kept the reports with himself.

"Good, that'll give us plenty of time to rest and organize. I want muskets and cannons on higher elevation, while pikemen and greatswords should create lines in front and flanks with shielders, and hold as long as they can." It was one of the most basic of defence tactics, but against Grimm hordes of this size, it had worked countless times before. He didn't want to play around and unnecessarily risk the lives of his men.

"The usual, then? Hmph, and here I thought you'd show this old gal some excitement, Your Highness." Amusement was clear in her tone, and Jaune shook his head with a smile.

"Not sure if a battle can ever be boring, Maëlys. And you're not that old." She was a woman in her early forties, a powerful Huntress and Duchess that served their kingdom as a General for over twenty years, and it showed on her face through numerous scars. None of them distracted from her beautiful face, her crystal blue eyes, or her platinum blonde hair, however, and she was still as beautiful as she was when she wasn't so scarred. Though not really Jaune's cup of coffee either way.

Jaune held up a hand to stop his army as a small fort came into view. It was a border post meant to screen for caravans, traders, civilians, as well as Grimm and bandits, and send out couriers depending on the threat. His first plan involved using the fort, but the Dame-General had warned him that it would've been too small to hold such a force, or house his own soldiers in any effective way, and thus, Jaune had decided to set up camp near it and draw the attention of the Grimm horde.

"I see a good spot to the east, Your Highness." She pointed towards a rocky spot with a deep incline, ideal for perching his muskets and cannons.

"Perfect, let us set up camp before the Grimm comes too close."

Anxiety, fear, confidence, happiness… hunger? Jaune surveyed his troops, who were all in their positions as they were sparring, eating, talking, or working out while waiting for the attack. A couple rookies drew his attention, however, as they were locked in melee with their training zweihänders so fierce that it was hard to tell they were sparring rather than trying to kill each other.

So into it they were, that they didn't notice Jaune walking towards them, nor the silence and salutes of the troops around them.

Crack

One rookie's training sword flew out of his hand, the other's cut in twine. They stared dumbly at each other before turning towards Jaune. "If you're so keen on dying today, please, do so during the battle, not before it."

"We… Were just sparring, Your Highness." The eager rookie wiped sweat from his forehead, before remembering who he was in front of and getting into a rigid stance.

"Really?" Jaune raised an eyebrow, "Then why is your opponent bleeding?" He gestured towards the second rookie's arm, where a large bruise was setting in with small trickles of blood thanks to broken skin.

"I… didn't even notice." It was the wounded rookie that replied, "I still don't feel pain."

"You were so into your spar that your adrenaline is still quite high." Jaune put his hand over the wound, flaring his Semblance for a moment and healing the soldier as he looked at Jaune with amazement and reverence.

"Thank you, m'lord…"

Jaune sent a nod, "Sparring is good. It's a good workout, you can test new techniques without the risk of dying, and you're getting better with every single session. But do not let your eagerness to be better halt your progress by wounding yourself, especially right before a battle where there isn't a difference between being good and being good enough when you're fighting in formation. It'll lead to your death."

"Yes, Your Highness!" Both of them bowed their heads, before leaving.

"Idiots…" A pikemen sergeant muttered from the side, shaking his head, "Their overeagerness will either get them promoted, or killed."

"Ready up for battle!" Jaune's shout caused a wave of other shouts throughout the ranks, sergeants and captains relaying the order to their pikemen and greatswords outnumbered his ranged troops by far, which was good if you asked Jaune. The army was four thousand men strong, with each and every single of them equipped with at least a three-quarter-suit of plate and small cloaks that showed the crests of various counts and countesses of outer towns, though majority had the crest of the Arc family and the city of Orléans.

His attachment of the Royal Guard stood nearby, one hundred men and women in full suits of plate equipped with all kinds of melee weapons ranging from arming swords and heater shields to longswords, greatswords, polaxs, and even spears. Most of them were those with unlocked, yet low, Aura pools, either rejected from their huntsman academy or the sons and daughters of noblemen, thrown into such a position for not having enough Aura to become Huntsmen. They weren't weak per se, but their Aura wouldn't hold up in a battle in such a way that guaranteed or gave them a high chance of survival, and that's where their armour came in, making it so that whatever small amount of Aura they had was actually able to tank some hits, as reinforcing tempered steel plates was far more Aura-efficient than reinforcing squishy flesh and guts. Jaune didn't understand the Huntsmen that forgo armour, but he guessed relying on advanced technological weapons that could shift into many different forms gave them a false sense of security and superiority.

The Dame-General hopped off of her horse, her own full suit of plate jingling and hitting each other on the way down. The visor of her bascinet was the only truly remarkable piece of armour, the rest being undecorated. It was her own face, yet younger and unmarred by scars he knew to be there. The mouth twisted in a frown, yet her eyes seemed to laugh. He didn't know what he was supposed to feel about the expression, but it was a puzzle he had been mulling over ever since he first met her years ago.

They were in position, yet with the Grimm horde barely visible at the mouth of the valley, he hadn't given the command to fire yet. They'd have to wait until they were at a distance where muskets and cannons would be able to deal as much damage as possible, giving them the upper hand in the initial phase of the battle.

The tension was thick in the air, the whispers of those who weren't experienced traveling through the lines as they saw Grimm approaching for the first time. He saw a couple of the Faunus' tails and ears stiff in anticipation, the fur on their appendages standing up. "They're close." Jaune mumbled after a while, putting the visor of his close helm down. "Fire!"

The thunderous, rolling fire of his 12-pounder cannons and rifled muskets echoed throughout the valley, prompting many of his Faunus troops to wince momentarily. His ranks cheered as the bullets and cannonballs struck true, ripping through the unaware Grimm horde and taking out a good six to seven hundred Beowolves, Ursae, Creeps, and Satyrs before the battle even began. The now aware Grimm horde turned, charging over the disintegrating corpses of their brethren, and a couple pikemen and greatsword sergeants shouted words of courage, prompting the troops to release an "Oorah!" Just before the horde clashed with the frontline.

While the first three were commonly found in anywhere on Remnant, Satyrs were mostly specific to the northern plains of Orléans. They were humanoid Grimm with goat-like lower bodies, and Baphomet-like heads. They were mostly armourless, yet they carried makeshift Grimm-bone swords, shields, and spears. But if Satyrs were here…

Screams cut through the air from the south, and Jaune knew before he even received the confirmation. "Sir! Our left flank is collapsing!" A messenger on horseback shouted, drawing his attention.

"Royal Guards, follow me! Dame, I want you to stay and command the troops!" Jaune was already on the move, having jumped off the back of his horse and running towards the left flank at a speed no normal human could achieve.

"Prince!-" The Dame-General's response was cut short, and his Royal Guards were left behind, but they'd catch up sooner or later.

Jaune ducked and weaved as several pikemen were thrown towards him, and he saw a large, crude warhammer made out of Grimm bone as a gigantic Minotaur came into view. It was not as heavily armoured as it could've been, which was a small miracle, but the Minotaur didn't stop as its blood-red eyes locked onto Jaune's cerulean blue. A collection of hands hung from the beast's neck, the middle one being in a skin so red that it couldn't have been human.

Ten or so Eidolons were also present, carving into the pikemen line, albeit at a much slower pace than the Minotaur. He'd leave those to the Royal Guard to deal with. They were the most human-like of any Grimm, apart from Hybrids, and used Grimm-bone greatswords, with armour that covered far less than the Minotaur. They were humanoids with four limbs, Grimm-bone helmets, a set of bone-plates that acted as the cuirass, and asymmetrical pauldron-like pieces that favoured their left shoulder. Grimm-fur stuck out from in-between the plates, and the colour of their eyes, the only visible part of their face, were the only indicator that they were actual Grimm rather than Hybrids.

"Sir!" A pikemen-sergeant shouted, his impressive beard painted with both Grimm and human blood.

"Try to stall the Eidolons until the Royal Guards arrive! I will deal with the Minotaur!" Jaune pointed the tip of Crocea Mors at the beast, who held its warhammer in two hands as it waited for his attack. Crocea Mors had been reforged after it was rewarded to him once he was made a squire to his father. Now the blade was longer, had a diamond cross section that finely tapered towards the edges, with longer quillons and a pommel that was shaped to be a part of the grip, allowing the sword to be held and used like a longsword, which marked it as a bastard sword. The heater shield was also reforged, made bigger to retain its usage as a sheath for the sword and cover more area for defence.

Jaune launched himself at the Grimm as it swung its warhammer again, hitting his shield and throwing him to the side from the sheer force behind it. Turning in the air, Jaune rolled into a stand and blocked the warhammer again, putting both strength and Aura behind it this time. As the Minotaur was knocked back from the force of its own blow, Jaune used the moment to cut into the beast's arm, the bone-plating holding yet allowing a deep cut where it didn't properly cover.

Releasing a deep, guttural scream that terrorized the troops nearby, the Minotaur swung faster, allowing Jaune little time to dodge. Tanking the hit with his shield again, Jaune angled it to glance, throwing the Grimm off of its footing and allowing him a chance to strike at its back.

Crocea Mors sunk deep as the beast roared again, yet the wound was not fatal. Jaune had precious few seconds to wrench out Crocea Mors as another warhammer blow came, hitting his unshielded right side and throwing him through several trees. The combination of his armour and Aura held, even if it had been a devastating blow.

Jaune jumped to his feet as the beast neared, going for an overhead swing that he sidestepped. Cutting through the Minotaur's right arm, Crocea Mors stopped midway, getting stuck on Grimm blood yet rendering the arm useless. Jaune's grip on Crocea Mors held true as the Grimm threw a strong punch with its other arm, allowing him to remove the blade from the wound as he was sent skidding back.

"For Orléans! For Chaumont!" A couple of shouts came from the frontline, familiar voices of his Royal Guards joining with similar shouts, "For the Crown Prince!"

Hearing the shouts of cheers, Jaune's eyes momentarily went to the pikemen line and he saw the Royal Guards tear into the Eidolons, working in groups of four and surrounding the Grimm. A wave of lesser Grimm started to make their way towards the frontline, and the cheers of the pikemen became war cries as they steeled themselves to face the new threat. He heard quite a few muskets behind, and a hail of rounds ripped through the new group of Grimm before they could clash with the pikemen.

Focusing on the Minotaur just in time to dodge another swing, Jaune noted how it hadn't slowed down compared to the others like he guessed, marking it as a skilled and ambidextrous warrior. Its right arm fell limp at its side, and that was at least one potential weapon down.

Blocking the lighter blow from the beast, Jaune bashed with the shield to the side, and launched himself forwards with a thrust towards the Grimm's face. Tilting its head to the side, Minotaur caught Crocea Mors on the side of its head plates, deflecting the blade and using its left arm to throw Jaune away from itself.

Rolling back into a standing position, Jaune caught the warhammer with both his shield and sword, before yanking it down to the ground. Putting his right foot on the head of it, Jaune launched himself forwards once more, disarming the beast and putting it on the back foot.

Letting out another roar, the Minotaur tried to use its left arm like a club, but it was deflected to the side by Jaune's shield as he activated his Semblance, his eyes glowing their cerulean blue and his Aura encasing his body in a golden-white glow.

With a shout, Jaune swung Crocea Mors down with his amplified Aura flooding the blade, and vertically sliced through the head of the Minotaur down to its chest. Putting a foot on Grimm's stomach, Jaune wrenched Crocea Mors out as the beast fell. This was his Semblance, the ability to amplify the Aura of himself or others, as well as the Semblances of other people.

Jaune looked around as some of the pikemen and the Royal Guards let out shouts of victory, still fighting the Grimm horde. Putting up the visor of his close helm, Jaune noticed the Dame-General coming into view as her horse came to a stop, "Our pikemen are moving to encircle what's remaining of the horde! There isn't much left!"

"That was reckless, Jaune." He suppressed the urge to sigh at the Dame-General's tone.

"I was strong enough to defeat it." They were currently sitting at a table in the gardens of the town they protected just hours prior. After the battle, the men were too exhausted to march all the way back to the capital, and the decision was made in favour of resting a day at the nearest settlement.

"While that might be true, fighting the Red Hand was still risky. That beast slew more than four huntsmen teams, and at least twice as much Royal Guard platoons… But you killed it. I guess I don't have much more to teach you." A warm smile spread across her marred face, the scars doing nothing to distract from her natural beauty. Jaune's eyes softened at the sight, his mentor was truly beautiful.

"Thank you. but doesn't that mean…" Jaune's eyes lighted up as the prospect of not being bound to a knight popped up in his mind, finally free to leave his home. While it may have been a bit hypocritical of him considering he was blaming his father for the same thing, Jaune was not the king, and he did not have the same responsibilities as his father that would've bound him to the throne.

"Yes. I'll discuss your knighting ceremony once the king is back." Jaune hummed as he considered it, since he didn't exactly know when his father would be back. He could call him through a scroll but there was always a chance of him being in the middle of a battle or outside the CCTS range.

Looking down at his half empty wine cup, Jaune drank the rest in a single gulp. A bit uncouth, but he just didn't care right now. "So, how are you going to keep yourself busy when I'm a Knight-Errant?"

"Ah… right. It seems I'll need to find a new boytoy." Her teasing smirk told him that she was jesting, but it did nothing to stop his coughing fit.

"Maëlys…" Jaune sent her an amused glare, pouring more wine into his cup. "Are we going to throw a banquet? In the honour of the battle?"

"You think the queen will let an opportunity for more… 'socializing' go? It'll be arranged as soon as your father returns." She just confirmed what he had guessed, well… there would be more alcohol, at least. There was a reason why his father, the rightful king, was more focused on the military aspects while his mother focused on the politics.

Jaune stopped his hand from reaching for the third bottle of wine as he felt a buzz, his wine cup already empty. Getting drunk wouldn't do any good. "Wise choice, Your Highness."

Jaune turned towards the new voice. Verte, the countess of Chaumont had just arrived. "Oh? Done with your project, countess?" A young woman of short height, she was wearing a long green gown that exaggerated her curves, mainly her hips, though Jaune questioned the need for it as she was not exactly… flat when he last saw her in a much more form fitting suit. Her eyes were a dark green, her namesake, and her straight golden-blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in an alluring way.

Jaune suppressed a chuckle as Verte sent a strained smile towards the duchess, "Not yet, projects as grand as the one I'm currently constructing take time. I was wondering if the crown Prince would like to see my work."

He was too sober for this. "Of course, my lady."

Jaune took a glass of whatever kind of white wine or champagne they were serving at the banquet, thanking the adorable ragdoll-cat maid while doing so. She was actually one of his family's, responsible for cleaning the wing that his room was located in, his weapons, and his armour. While he occasionally helped her with the former, it was only Jaune that did maintenance on his equipment, to prepare himself for when he didn't have such luxury while on the road. The maid's eyes, cat-ears, tail, and hair were reminiscent of her Faunus-race in their colour, shape, and looks. A beautiful young woman all around, she was a shortstack, the height difference between them must've been quite humorous to see from outside.

The number of servants were pretty heavy on the side of faunus, and cats and many other "cute" Faunus-girls were the most sought after as they easily doubled as eye candies. Some would call it racist, Jaune called it an advantage over the competition since not everyone would be hired to serve in the royal palace, and being a cute Faunus girl increased your chances. A good pay, safe and comfortable living conditions, and they were prized rather than seen as worthless peasants. What part of that was racist? Atlas had quite the opposite view on the matter, but Atlas was Atlas.

While most attending nobles were dressed in expensive suits and dresses, military members and his family were wearing ceremonial armour. His own armour was half practical and half ceremonial, decorated with Holy inscriptions and depictions of divine beings. He was also wearing his coronette, a bold suggestion from his mother considering coronettes weren't usually meant to be worn. Many counts and dukes went without one their entire lives, their titles granting them the right yet it didn't have the prestige of a royal crown, and commissioning one was seen as pretentious even by their standards as long as they were not sovereign counties or duchies.

His father was at the podium, giving a speech about his own exploits as well as the recent battle of Chaumont's fork. The town was named after the mountain, rather than vice versa.

Jaune raised his glass in toast when his father congratulated him on his victory, with many of the attendees following. Just as he was about to take another glass of white wine, he spied the Dame-General approaching him from the side, and he could see her smile reflecting through her eyes even with her mask. Her own armour for the occasion was less practical and more eye-catching, and even quite… Alluring at parts.

"It is time." Jaune almost rolled his eyes at the cryptic tone, it wasn't a secret that he would be getting knighted today, following the Dame-General, he approached the dais his father was speaking on.

The ballroom was large, decorated with banners and flags of their family crest on decorated stone pillars that held up the white marble ceiling. The ceiling itself was decorated with depictions of angels and gods, of holy battles that supposedly took place before even time itself, and a sun with the visage of a beautiful blonde woman standing in it. She was the Saint Soleil, the chief deity of their state religion as well as the religion of his family. He didn't think of it much, even if he believed, he was never big on religion.

It was a familiar sight, one that he didn't feel strongly about in either direction. "My Lord." Dame-General curtsied to his father, a man that was just as tall and strong as Jaune himself. He was wearing a golden suit of ceremonial plate armour, divine beings and holy scripts etched on it just as his own armour for the occasion. His father's blonde hair came down to his shoulders, while a trimmed beard adorned his face. Jaune raised an eyebrow as he spied Crocea Mors hanging from his father's sword belt.

At this point, all the guests had quieted down to whispers as they gave their full attention, and Jaune became a bit conscious of all the stares. He wasn't as used to it as his father, but he had to learn, so he soldiered on.

"Father." Jaune bowed.

"Jaune, it is good to see you in fine health. I take the stories of your fight against the Red Hand are true?"

"All embellished, I'm sure. The fight was relatively easy." Jaune brushed off the compliment. One of his Royal Guards had relayed the story to him, which she had heard from a pikemen. It was… quite exaggerated, to say the least.

"Good, good… You have become quite skilled at combat. Wish I was here to see how you grew but… I'm proud of you, son." Jaune's inward retort died when he heard the last part, being replaced by a warm feeling he did not want to feel. His father had been absent for most of the time. He would have understood him being absent due to his duties as a king, but he was usually gallivanting in other kingdoms or the countryside instead.

"Thank you, father."

"Kneel, Jaune." Doing as he was instructed, Jaune kneeled, slightly bowing his head forward and putting his hand over his heart as he heard Crocea Mors slide out of her sheathe.

"By slaying a powerful foe, you have shown that you are a formidable warrior, and that you have far surpassed what we can teach you. Today, you stand as an equal, as a general and knight of this realm." His short speech was concluded as the flat of the blade touched Jaune's shoulder, before moving to his other shoulder with the other side of the blade.

"Congratulations, son." Jaune stood up, receiving a slap on the shoulder from his father as a round of applause went around the room, many nobles and even the servants joining in.

His father saved him from having to make a speech, to or stay any longer under the attention as he addressed the room, "Now, I believe we have more festivities to offer!"

Oi. First chapter of my new fic... Anyways, I want this story to be unapologetically corny, because I'm quite sick of the weak pussy ass harem mc Jaunes and the final fantasy reject Jaunes that have become a trope at this point in this FNDM. He's going to be strong, not too op, and this is not going to be a harem, as most fics that doesn't adhere to the two tropes above usually have harems. I also want him to be... Knightly. Not a final fantasy reject, not some Qrow knock off but even with more edge using modern tools, but I want him to be a really classical Knight, but I won't make his morals similar to Ruby, he will be much more mature. He'll be slightly edgy, but not in the "Shadow the hedgehog" way that is way too popular in this FNDM.

I'm going to change the world quite a bit. Kingdom of Orléans is basically a fantasy kingdom with some everyday technology like CCTS added in, but it is largely fantasy where it counts. I'm going to change Atlas the most, I could write an essay on why the Atlesian Airships we saw in v3 are complete trash that should've never left the idea box of whoever designed it. I'll do slight changes to Menagerie and Mistral, while adding a couple of things. Vacuo, as someone who never read the CFVY books, seems like a fair game for world building, almost as much as the Kingdom of Orléans which is not even based on anything canon other than Jaune's supposedly French roots.

I'm thinking of publishing this story after I'm a couple chapters in, the next chapter will be a tournament, mêlée, joust of peace, etc. And his leave as a Knight-Errant. On the subject of chapters, I actually rewrote this chapter a couple of times, and I still think the first draft was a bit better constructed, although that included a small tournament scene and the leave before I thought of expanding them and making them a chapter of their own. Breaking up the chapter lessened the jarring scene transitions, as I felt it was too rushed. There are actually more scene transitions here than the first draft, but they're actually mostly connected to each other, so I think its not a problem.

Changelog:
Fixed a small grammar issue
Added description to Eidolons