RWBY: LUCID

After the creep had fully disintegrated, Jaune stood silently, watching the movements of the mist before him.

His breathing evened out quickly as his body simply didn't need the rest. As upgraded as it was, it was now, it was unlikely that small exertions like these would cause him significant stamina issues, anymore.

He opened the system interface with a thought.

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[Body: 3>4]

[Required Amount: 40 Runes]

[Confirm?]

[Y/N]

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His lips tugged itself into a faint grin, seeing the amount. Between his last few fights, he had saved up enough to be able to afford the next increase in his power. The feeling of ever increasing power that came with his body stat upgrade... Jaune craved it.

He didn't hesitate to click, Yes.

There was a sudden, internal popping of pressure—like someone had gripped the base of his spine and pushed it gently upward.

He staggered slightly, not from pain but sensation. His legs tensed and every muscle fiber pulled taut like a piano string being tuned too fast, perhaps too tight but then they loosened, perfectly adjusted.

His breathing deepened and his vision sharpened more than had before.

His arms felt lighter and stronger. Even the faint, budding ache in his shoulders from the earlier spar, faded like mist under a hot sun.

A quiet, stunned breath escaped his lips.

"…Just what I needed."

He rotated his wrists slowly, feeling the new stat come to work. Jaune then raised a hand and clenched it into a fist.

The tension in his veins felt alive. Like raw, living voltage under skin. There was no doubt about it now—he'd clearly stepped beyond the limits of human strength. Not by a wide margin, but enough that his body didn't feel like a mortal's anymore.

Superhuman. A weapon honed and waiting to be used.

He stretched once, experimentally, then dropped his stance low and sprang into the air.

His feet left the ground with a burst of strength. He rose higher than he meant to, landing five meters away in a crouch that kicked up dust. No stumble or pain in knees. Just pure, reinforced force absorption.

Jaune stood slowly, blinking down at his hands.

"This is what four in body feels like…"

The rush didn't overwhelm him like it once had, before but it was still a marvel to behold. That kind of shock and awe might have might have gave him pause a few days ago—back when just surviving one Beowolf felt like a miracle. But now?

Now he could evaluate his power.

He could feel it in every motion. In the precision of his movements and the way his feet settled instinctively on uneven ground. Truly, a redefinition of power.

Jaune rolled his neck once, let the hum of power fade into the background of his awareness.

Then he turned back to the mist.

It was still there, pulsing faintly near the base of the train station's cracked support beams. The ground around it was stained darker, as if the air itself had begun to corrode reality.

He set his sword aside and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes in the process.

"A dream creatures spawner... this world is truly bizarre, isn't it?"

The mist didn't take long to deliver.

The shadows stretched and warped then, without sound, the black fog spat out another solid dark puddle of shape. Limbs stretched, a snout formed, and bone-white mask features slid into place like puzzle pieces locking in.

The result was unmistakable.

A Beowolf.

Jaune's mouth twisted into something between a frown and a smirk.

Of all the things it could've spawned…

The creature didn't wait. The moment its limbs found stability, it howled once—and lunged.

Typical.

Jaune didn't move at first, simply watching the creature. He wanted to see how far he could take this now. His instincts were already prepared for the beast's signature pounce: claws extended, forelegs raised high and jaws wide open for the bite.

Instead of dodging, he stepped into the pounce and raised his sword.

Steel met claw in a harsh clang, but this time, Jaune didn't stagger or slide back. His shoes held firm against the concrete.

He matched its momentum directly. Physically. And it wasn't hard.

He batted the creature off with a shove from his left shoulder, then spun low to slice across its flank. With Jaune's improved control, it struck lightly, enough to stagger it but not enough to fully harm it.

The Beowolf twisted, readjusting to the attack and struck at him again with a double swipe. He blocked both with his sword, absorbing the blows through his stance and core.

Once again, no stress. No instability.

It felt like sparring with something lighter than it looked and he couldn't help but mutter to himself, softly, amidst the attacks.

"Let's see how far I've come."

This time, Jaune advanced.

The Beowolf slashed again, but his reflexes responded before the movement finished. His blade rose in a crescent arc and met the claw mid-swing, redirecting the force away.

Then he darted left and slammed the hilt of his sword into its ribs, following up with a low kick to its knee joint.

The creature howled in fury and pain but Jaune was calm. Neither thrilled nor exhilarated. Focused.

The increase to his Body stat was truly remarkable. Now, it gave him pure physical prowess to fight a creature like a Beowolf without any worry.

'Still not enough though,' he noted, parrying a wild strike and responding with a riposte that drove a shallow gouge across the beast's snout.  'It's nowhere near the level of what Raymond and that masked man could do.'

His mind flashed back to the two combatants moving like a missiles in human form. Their very clashes could generate air pressure that was strong enough to stagger him.

'They're still lightyears ahead of me. Rank 1 huh?

He ducked under the Beowolf's lunging bite and slashed upward, cutting deep across its jaw. The creature shrieked, staggered back, then lunged again.

Jaune spun aside and used the moment to reassess.

'Raymond said I was Rank 0. That other guy said the same. I'm still bottom tier. Which means, my current level is only just scratching the surface.

But that was fine. Better than fine. Jaune could work with that.

Because he was improving.

He gritted his teeth, pushing the thoughts away and surged forward with a powerful kick off the ground. He then hammered the flat of his blade into the Beowolf's chest. The creature reeled—and this time Jaune followed through, spinning low and slicing across both legs.

It collapsed with a thud.

Before it could rise again, he brought the sword down through its neck with a final, clean stroke.

Schkrrrk.

The mist behind him pulsed once again and Jaune rose slowly, steadily and readily to meet it. Faintly, the chime of the system echoed in his mind and he pulled up his status to see his gains.

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[Jaune Arc]

[Rank: 0]

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Aura: 0

Will: 0

Body: 4

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Runes: 16

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"Good."

The mist pulsed again and Jaune turned toward it, already attempting to guess what was coming next. The air thickened, and with a familiar wet squelch, the mist expelled another dream-born creature. This one took shape just as quickly as the others did—round, squat, but still armored in jagged plates of bone and fur.

A boarbatusk.

Of course it was the damned pig.

"Back for round three, huh?"

The creature shook itself as if waking from a long sleep. Its plated hide clicked and shifted with the movement. Red eyes blinked once, twice—then locked onto him.

Jaune simply stood there, sword in hand, the flat edge resting against his shoulder.

He didn't bother taking a proper stance. He didn't need to.

The Boarbatusk gave its high-pitched, guttural screech, then began its telltale wind-up. Its body tensed. Limbs tucked in. And with a sudden crack of force, it launched itself forward, spinning like a boulder launched from a railgun.

A few days ago, that sight would've made Jaune panic.

Now? He simply sidestepped it with ease.

Just a small lean. No need for any flair.

The beast whirled past him and slammed into the cracked wall of the station with a teeth-rattling boom, kicking up chunks of debris. It rebounded almost immediately, clearly trying to catch him off-guard with a quick second charge.

But Jaune was already in motion.

He sprinted alongside the creature's path, eyes tracking every twitch of its armored body. Its roll wasn't perfect—Jaune could see the slight wobble in its spin, the way its weight shifted unevenly mid-turn.

"Your balance is your weakness, porky" he muttered, planting his feet.

The Boarbatusk came in again, faster this time, trying to correct its path mid-roll to crash into him.

Bad move.

Jaune stepped forward—not back—and punched.

His fist, reinforced by his new body stat, slammed directly into the creature's exposed underbelly as it spun past.

CRACK.

The impact echoed like a sledgehammer against sheet metal.

The Grimm flopped sideways, its rotation shattered by the force of the blow. It skidded across the concrete and came to a twitching halt, armor cracked, limbs flailing wildly as it struggled to right itself.

Jaune was already on top of it.

He moved with no wasted motion. One hand gripped his sword, and the other, his bat. He didn't need both, feeling like it was overkill for the sake of practice. But practice makes perfect, anyway.

"Let's end this quick."

The creature tried to roll again—muscle memory overriding common sense. Jaune slammed the bat down on its exposed leg joint, shattering it like a dry twig and removing it from the game that was its combat capability.

Another squeal came from the pig, tearing through the air in desperation, rage and weakness.

He circled behind it as it writhed in place, then brought his blade down into the spot just behind its shoulder blade. Not deep enough to kill—just enough to make it scream.

He stepped back, breathing evenly, watching it flail.

"I could've killed you twice already," Jaune said aloud, partly for himself.

But he didn't.

Instead, he danced around its weakened swipes, deflecting the occasional flailing tusk with light taps of the bat. He tested his balance, weight distribution, footwork—correcting errors mid-motion.

Every blow he struck, every twitch of movement, felt like another layer of instinct burning into muscle.

The Boarbatusk tried to rise again.

He kicked its hind leg out from under it, then drove his sword through the exposed gap in its side—straight into the core of its mass. The blade stopped halfway in, jammed between thick ribs. Jaune grunted and twisted.

The beast gave one final shudder.

And then—like all the others before it—it broke apart.

Ash and dark dust. Fading into the black.

Jaune pulled his sword free, wiped the shadow-flecked residue off on his sleeve, and stood still for a moment. Listening.

The chime of the system resounded in his mind, putting a smile on his face.

Nothing else spawned for now. He'd killed that dream creature quite fast, after all.

It was just him, the quietly undulating mist, and the buzz of power beneath his skin.

He pulled up the system with a thought.

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[Runes: 26]

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"Not bad," Jaune muttered, slipping his blade back into its sheath.

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AN: We're about 15 chapters away from the end of the first volume of this story. So 15 days or so before daily updates stop for a bit.