RWBY: A Lord's Tale

Chapter Twelve: Spring Cleaning

Qrow, having scrounged yet another supply of liquor from gods know where, was already swaying gently by the time he spoke again.

"Airship's comin'," he said over his shoulder, boots crunching over dried needles and twigs. "But I've still got a couple things to wrap up here… don't burn down the forest."

"I'll try," Quin replied, raising a hand lazily from where he sat, the chicken still perched on his shoulder like a smug shoulder angel.

Qrow snorted faintly and vanished into the brush, taking the smell of booze and gun oil with him.

He exhaled and flopped backward onto the grass, staring up at the sky, dim with mist and smoke from the campfire. Somewhere out there was an airship, probably full of uncomfortable seats, dry rations and at the end, a very lengthy conversation.

He blinked, glancing over at Mordred. "You ever thought about owning real estate?"

The plush on his hip tilted its head ever so slightly, one button eye catching the sunlight like a bead of polished onyx. Silence.

"…No, me neither," Quin muttered, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

And yet here he was, tricked, backstabbed, and possibly bamboozled by a cosmic entity, and handed a system straight out of a mobile gacha game… Build a village? Grow it into a global power? Conquer the world? Sir, he barely knew how to manage money properly.

He exhaled slowly, eyes drifting toward the treeline.

In the distance, just beyond the campfire, were his soldiers. The scattered men were trying to build a card house yet again, and yet again failing... They tried to set up a forward operating base here, didn't they? Secure a foothold for him.

Would've saved him some effort, honestly, and at least given him some direction in the "Establish a Village" mission.

Quin sighed.

Then shook his head. No. Not while Qrow was still breathing down his neck. That guy had a knack for snooping, and Quin absolutely did not want to explain why he was trying to survive all alone in the forest instead of a place with proper plumbing.

Not today.

He swiped open his system menu again, this time dragging it over to the Missions tab.

---

[Missions]

Foundations: Establish/Lead a Village with a population of 10. (9/10)

Soldier: Kill an Enemy with your own hands. (0/1)

Delegation: Kill 10 Enemies using subjects. (8/10)

---

"Huh… guess it only counts humanoids as a population."

Quin tilted his head.

"Well, guess I might as well finish the last one," he murmured.

Two more. Just two.

He stood up with a lazy groan, knocking the chicken off his lap, the chicken ruffled its feathers, landing on top of his blanket as Mordred gave the bird a deathstare.

Quin didn't see that, however, already eyeing the woods.

A low hum filled the air as he knelt down and hefted the greatsword over his shoulder, its forked blade catching glimmers of light. Quin gave it a few practice swings, copying how the Tarnished move when he used a greatsword, and then rolled his shoulders.

"Alright boys," he called over towards the pikemen, "let's go hunting."

There was a pause. Then the sound of several excited whoops, followed by the chaotic clatter of armored boots and bouncing gear.

One of the pikemen, tall and broad-chested, nearly tripped in his eagerness as he surged forward. "Finally! Trudy gets to stretch her legs again!" he cackled, caressing the haft of his pike with a little too much affection.

Quin ignored all of it, letting them get their ridiculous energy out. It was honestly impressive how they could go from trying to build a card tower to a bloodthirsty squad in thirty seconds flat. With that kind of mental flexibility, they'd probably survive anything, or die horrifically. One or the other…. then again, the Spokesperson would love either option.

He stopped at the edge of the clearing, glancing back. The slimes were still gathered around the embers of the fire, jiggling idly.

"Stay here," Quin said, gesturing to the gelatinous blobs. "Guard duty."

One of the slimes saluted.

Or well, he thinks it did, kind of hard to tell.

Another slowly sank over one of Qrow's socks like tar, absorbing it with glee.

"Great... that's not gonna be a problem later at all," Quin muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"OORAH"

He was pulled away from his slimes by his pikemen's simultaneous battle cry… better hurry before they start stabbing the ground to see if it's a spy.

With one last look back, he entered the forest.

Time to hunt some Grimm

…

Quin shoved aside a branch, ducking under a moss-draped limb as he grumbled to himself.

"Just how big is this forest that we haven't found a single one?"

Behind him, the clanking, rattling procession of pikemen fanned out like eager kids on a scavenger hunt... well, a scavenger hunt involving long, pointed sticks and a bunch of men perpetually on 5hr energy.

"This one's for Trudy!" one called out, jabbing at a bush.

The leader sprinted past Quin as he waved his flag. "Commander! Permission to suplex the next hostile!"

"Denied-"

"Understood... men, use an elbow drop then!"

"YES SIR"

Quin sighed, dragging a hand down his face. Leaves crunched underfoot as birdsong faded, and yet the woods rattled.

Wait... rattled?

He slowed, raising a hand. The footfalls behind him ceased like a switch had been thrown. "Quiet down."

Shaking... the ground was shaking.

Something heavy was approaching.

The pikemen instinctively spread out, weapons lowered, the goofiness draining from their bodies as they braced for whatever might come out of that thick underbrush.

It did not disappoint.

The undergrowth exploded as something massive barreled through it, trees snapping like toothpicks, splinters bursting outward in a deadly spray.

An Ursa Major. Towering over the line of pikemen, it emerged with a snarl, its hide was a patchwork of thick black bone plates, jagged and dense, with a line of spiky blades along its spine. Each step cratered the forest floor, its claws the size of short swords. Shards of shattered armor and weapons were already embedded in its flesh, souvenirs from failed hunts.

Beside it stalked a smaller beast, an Ursa Minor, its body more twitchy and alert, but lacking the sheer bulk of its larger companion.

The two beasts locked eyes on the squad.

Quin tightened his grip on the greatsword, jaw clenching. "Looks like the forest finally coughed something up."

The Ursa Major let out a roar that shook birds from the canopy. The pikemen didn't wait, and with spears lowered they charged as one.

Quin did not charge

He was frozen

Or well, as frozen as one can be when a giant ass bear has been staring at you this entire time.

The Ursa Minor paused for a moment, glancing over at the soldiers, before lunging at him.

"Crap-!"

He flailed backward, narrowly avoiding a swipe that carved a trench through the dirt. He scrambled on the ground, eventually reaching a tree that quickly ducked behind, his heart hammered against his throat… that's one way to get a shot of adrenaline.

'Okay, Elden Ring, What would I do in Elden Ring?'

Taking a moment to compose himself, he stood up and prepared to leave his impromptu cover.

He stepped out with a clumsy two-handed grip, wielding the blade like a baseball bat, and tried to replicate a hefty diagonal slash.

He missed.

The Ursa Minor just shifted its weight slightly, allowing Quin's blade to thud uselessly against its armoured skull.

"New plan," he wheezed, ducking just as claws sliced bark above his head. He kicked off a root and rolled to the side, badly… More of a flop, really.

The bear wheeled around, drool flicking from its fangs. Quin held his blade out in front of him, trembling arms locked.

The Minor lunged again, and he instinctively jumped back and miraculously avoided the worst of it. The beast clipped his shoulder, sending him tumbling through the underbrush, allowing leaves to lodge themselves into his hair and his jacket full of dust.

Somewhere behind him, the clash of steel and roars echoed, his pikemen engaging the Ursa Major… some screams, some cheers as someone got a good hit in, then more screams

Only saving grace was, he didn't get a system notification of a lost unit.

Quin staggered to his feet, blood smeared his sleeve.

The Ursa charged again.

This time, he met it.

Sure, he had sloppy footwork, terrible balance, but he went all in. He swung wide, blade arcing with sheer desperation.

It clipped the beast's leg, not too deep, but enough to make it stagger and seep a black mist. Quin almost dropped the sword from the impact shock, but he saw it… felt it… an actual hit.

"Oh… Oh, I can do this."

The Ursa snarled, pacing around.

"Alright then… round two, you knock off Runebear."

And this time, he felt confident.

Afterall, if it can bleed, it can die.

The bear charged again, its claws ready to gut him from the waist up… and Quin panicked, having not expected it to suddenly attack and instead give a little sign.

He raised the greatsword like a shield, and braced-

CRACK!

The impact slammed into him like a train. He flew backwards, landing hard, bouncing once, twice, before coming to a stop against a tree with a thud that rattled his skull. The blade skidded from his hands, embedding halfway into the dirt.

His ears rang.

He tried to get up, his limbs flailed, but only one leg responded right. The rest of him felt like someone had stuffed him into a laundry machine full of bricks.

The grimm stalked forward, limping now, black mist oozing steadily from its leg wound.

"Okay… okay, think…" he wheezed. "Sword's over there. Bear's… right there. Fantastic."

It roared and lunged again, jaws wide.

Quin yanked his Tactical Device, Mordred, from inside his jacket and hurled it at the beast's face.

BONK.

The plush bounced harmlessly off its snout.

The Ursa paused, looking at what hit it.

Quin dove, more like flopped, toward his sword, dragging it free. The moment the beast growled and turned again, he planted the hilt in the dirt, kicked with both feet against the tree behind him, and used that momentum to launch forward.

He roared, the sword swinging up in a wild uppercut.

CHUNK.

This time, the blade carved into the Ursa's throat. Not deep enough to kill it, but enough to make it reel as black mist gushed from the wound, sizzling as it hit the grass.

Quin fell to one knee, panting. His body trembled, but his eyes were locked on the monster.

"WRYYYYYYYY" he shouted almost instinctively, spitting blood from his lip. "Come on! I'm warmed up now!"

It came again, but slower this time around.

Confidence was a lie created by the government, but momentum? That was real.

He circled it, gripping the blade two-handed again before trying another Elden Ring move, a spinning slash.

He tripped on a root.

Fell flat on his face.

The bear lunged to capitalize… but he thrust upward from the ground in panic, the sword punched into its lower jaw and skewered through its snout.

The beast twitched violently, then collapsed sideways with a shuddering groan… disappearing into a dark haze not long after

---

[ Mission Completed ]

Soldier: Kill an Enemy with your own hands. (1/1)

Reward: Witcher Mutation (Witcher Series)

[ Claim ]

---

Quin coughed, rolled over, and lay there in the dirt, chest heaving.

"…This," he panted, "was a bad idea…"

He turned his head toward the clearing. The Ursa Major was still alive, but swaying, black mist seeped from multiple wounds. His pikemen had broken formation, half of them having their weapons yanked from their graps, the rest harrying the beast with jabs and cries.

One of them was on the creature's back, stabbing furiously.

"Okay, team… guess it's boss fight time…"

He forced himself up.

And ran to help.

Or well, limped to help.

2010 Words

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Rejoice! For there's another chapter, no but seriously, thanks for reading, means a lot to me.

Alright, I get there's no Lord stuff yet, but that's cause he hasn't actually started a settlement yet— when he does, expect some grand strategy, GOT style politics