Jacques's head rolled back in relief.
He felt amazing. No, he felt more than amazing, like a new man. Or maybe a better one. Hell, maybe just a different one. He felt incredible, better than either of them had in years, maybe ever.
His whole body buzzed with energy like he'd just downed a dozen cans of Red Bull and chased it with pure adrenaline. Every part of him practically had just been freshly oiled and polished, ready to take on the world.
The exhaustion he'd been dragging around, the aches and stiffness in his muscles? Gone and wiped clean. He rolled his shoulders, savoring the way they moved freely as all the tension, whatever that was supposed to mean, had been punched out of him.
But even so, something was off. Very off. Tottenham-winning-a-trophy off.
He raised a hand, squinting at it as he turned it over in the dim light. If he focused, he could see the faint shimmer of his Aura. It was a soft violet that pulsed and flickered like it had a mind of its own. Shadows coiled beneath him and around his fingers and legs, and swirled lazily before dissipating like smoke.
His brow creased. "That's...different?" he muttered, unsure.
Aura, as Jacques remembered from the show, wasn't supposed to look like this. It was supposed to be neat and clean with a kind of glow, either blue or gold, something shiny and heroic. "Ain't Aura supposed to be, like… stable? Like some fancy sci-fi forcefield?" he muttered, tilting his hand to get a better look. This wasn't that. Not by a long shot.
The way it moved, the way it swirled and shifted, if he were being honest, it reminded him less of Aura and more of something out of a different playbook. Ki? Nen? Yeah, more like that, he nodded, watching the energy coil around his fingers.
Curiosity sparked, and Jacques flexed his hand experimentally. The violet glow responded instantly, growing richer as it rippled across his skin. He focused, willing it to gather, and the energy obeyed. It swirled around his fist, growing brighter until his hand was engulfed in a large sphere of shimmering violet light.
He could see the veins in his forearm standing out, feel the subtle bulge of strength coiling beneath the surface in his bones and muscles. Not just a visual trick, he could feel it, like a force surging through him, waiting to be let loose.
"Not bad. Not bad at all," he said under his breath, the surprise in his voice quickly giving way to satisfaction.
To test it further, he raised an index finger, focusing on the strange, almost liquid quality of his Aura. With a bit of concentration, he shaped a small amount of it into something smaller: a crude heart.
The shape wavered and twitched, jagged at the edges and sluggish in its movement, but it was obvious. He stared at it for a moment, then let out a low cackle as the heart wobbled and broke apart.
"Romantic," he said dryly, shaking his hand to disperse the remaining traces. The energy clung stubbornly for a moment before disappearing back into his skin.
The more Jacques thought about it, the less sense any of this made. But then again, when had he ever been the norm? This wasn't a fluke or luck—this was power, plain and simple. It didn't need to make sense. It just was.
And then the truth hit him.
I'm just that awesome.
He nodded to himself, smug satisfaction plastered across his face. Of course! He was simply more special than everyone else, so naturally, his Aura was more special too. Why shouldn't it be? The rules didn't apply to someone like him.
Before he could revel too long in his newfound revelation. A gruff chuff of air came from behind him and reminded him that he was quite alone anymore. His grin froze as his gaze shifted over his shoulder. Two pairs of luminous violet eyes looked at him expectantly.
Divine Dog: White and Divine Dog: Black.
The white one barked when it caught his gaze, while the black one lolled its tongue out and wagged its tail with unrestrained excitement.
'Cute,' he supposed, but something else was a bit more pressing.
Jacques raised a brow.
Were these two always supposed to be this big? He muttered, stepping closer.
The wolves weren't just big; they were downright huge. Each one was easily the size of a Shire horse. Megumi's were definitely much smaller than these two. Potential man...
"Hell, aren't you two a sight," Jacques said, laughing as he extended a hand toward them. The wolves sniffed cautiously at his fingers before lowering their massive heads in acknowledgment of him as their master.
Jacques chuckled, his hand roughing up their heads with a laugh. "Good boys," he said.
As he ruffled their shadowy fur, he felt something settle in the back of his mind. It wasn't just ownership. Control. Influence. A bond. They weren't just creatures; they were actually tied to his soul.
And in his mind eye, he could clearly see the connection in the shape of a small burning flame. The first of ten, he realized.
His mind wandered across each of the connections. Each represented a Shikigami, and unlike the first, the other nine were little more than embers. Inevitably, his attention landed on the last one. His grin faltered for just a moment as a chill running down his spine.
The mightiest of his summons.
Eight-Handled Sword Divergent Sila Divine General.
Mahoraga.
The name echoed in Jacques' mind like a tolling bell. His lips twisted into an uneasy smirk as his hand flexed instinctively, his fingers tightening into a fist.
Oh, he was definitely taming that one.
The thought lingered before he shook it off. Turning his attention back to the two massive wolves beside him. Divine Dog White was laying on its back with its stomach exposed for rubbing while its twin was chasing its own tail. Again: Cute.
"Speaking of taming," he said, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Let's see what you two can do."
Not against him, of course. He was still riding high on his awakening and the sheer thrill of newfound power coursing through him. Holding back wasn't exactly on his mind, and it'd be a damn shame if he accidentally killed one of them minutes after summoning them.
Especially with Totality on the line.
That was one of the harsh rules of the Ten Shadows Technique which he now had an almost instinctual understanding of. If the summoner killed one of their Shikigami, the ability to merge them, use Totality, or reallocate their power post-death into others would vanish.
And as much as Jacques hated the idea of losing them, the thought of not forging the other nine into a Mahoraga-lite or losing Agito was downright depressing.
He sighed, shaking his head. No point in dwelling on hypothetical. Instead, he made his way to the side of the arena, toward the rows of old, unused Atlasian Knight models lining the walls. A quick connection to the arena's control panels via his Scroll, and...
Ten of the tin cans sprang to life.
Their servos whirred, and their movements were jerky, but their guns and swords snapped up with unsettling precision. Jacques took a step back, grinning as he turned to his wolves.
"Alright, lads," he said, clapping his hands. "Let's see what you've got."
Immediately, Divine Dogs snapped into attention and growled.
"Let's start with one."
The tin can stepped forward at Jacques' command, and its servos groaned like a relic past its prime. Once in position before the wolves, it let out a stereotypically robotic disclaimer.
[Combat training initiated. Threat level: zero. Safety protocols engaged. Please ensure—]
"Disable safety protocols."
Fiddling with his Scroll, he cut the announcement short and adjusted the settings. "Alright, let's see... threat level six should do?" Allegedly about the skill level of a novice middle school combat student. Nothing too fancy.
The Knight's lights flickered briefly in acknowledgment. [Threat level six engaged. Beginning simulation.]
"Good," Jacques nodded. Then, louder, "Start!"
The Knight barely had time to raise its gun before the Divine Dogs pounced. With a feral snarl, their jaws clamped down, ripping the hapless machine in two like it was made of paper. the halves clattered to the floor as metal screeched and sparks flew.
Damn.
Jacques blinked, staring at the mangled remains. "Well... that was fast." He scratched his head, glancing at the wolves, who looked thoroughly pleased with themselves.
"Alright," he said with a smirk. "Let's crank it up a notch."
Jacques adjusted the settings once more, cranking the intensity up to level eight. Supposedly, that should be enough to take on half a dozen Beowolves, or so the system claimed.
He raised an eyebrow. "Alright, let's see if you can handle three of them."
This time, he sent three knights. The machines clanked into position, their weapons were drawn, and Jacques gave the order.
"Start!"
At his command, the knights opened fire with a series of sharp cracks as they aimed their guns at the approaching wolves. Dust bullets were nothing to sneeze at, but they barely even phased the Divine Dogs.
White moved first, dodging the gunfire with ease. Its jaws clamped onto the nearest knight's head, and with a crunch, the machine crumpled like foil.
Black wasted no time dismantling the other two. With a few nasty bites, the knights were scrapped before they even landed a decent hit. The wolves barely looked winded.
Trotting back to Jacques, White dropped the crushed head at his feet, tail wagging like it had fetched a stick. Jacques blinked, then smirked. "Show-off."
Jacques adjusted the settings, as he selected Level 10. "Alright, let's see how you two handle something with actual bite." Five knights activated. Their movements were supposed to be smoother, faster, and more coordinated than the last batch.
This was a setting meant to simulate combat against strong Grimm like an Ursa; something that would give a huntsman-in-training pause.
The knights spread out, rifles raised as they locked onto the wolves. Jacques leaned back, arms crossed. "Go on, then. Show me what you've got."
Same as before, white darted forward, bullets whizzing past as it zigzagged. Before the first knight could adjust, White was on it, jaws crushing down with a crunch that split its torso clean in two. Sparks and shredded metal scattered like ugly confetti.
Black followed with brute force, barrelling into another knight and sending it crashing to the ground. Its claws made short work of the machine's chest, tearing through the armor like cheap tin.
The remaining three knights quickly adapted, shifting into a coordinated formation. One laid down suppressive fire, forcing the wolves to dodge, while the other two advanced with glowing energy blades. Jacques tilted his head, mildly impressed.
"Smart move," he muttered, lips quirking into a half-smile.
Not that it helped. Black shrugged off a shot to its face and retaliated with a vicious swipe that crumpled one knight into a heap. White flanked the others, going low to take out the legs of one machine before leaping onto the last, shattering its blade with its jaws and ripping through its core with ease.
Jacques let out a low whistle, eyes shifting from the scattered tin cans to his wolves, both standing tall and completely unfazed.
If he were honest, Jack had never been much of a dog person. Too many close encounters with strays snapping at his heels, and cops with their slobbering, snarling mutts had made sure of that. "Man's best friend" his ass.
But with these two? He could finally see the appeal.
"Alright," Jacques said, satisfied. "You two are worth every damn ounce of trouble."
He turned his attention to the last tin can standing—or rather, towering. This one wasn't like the others scattered across the floor. No, this one was a bit bigger. And by "a bit bigger," he meant a hell of a lot bigger.
Arma Gigas.
An older model, sure, and not as refined as the one Weiss fought in that fancy-schmancy rite of passage he had her pass. But this version? Bulkier. Sturdier. Intimidating in all the right ways, with probably an even meaner Grimm inside of its core.
"Come," Jacques ordered as he strode toward the armored behemoth. His arm raised slightly, and his aura surfaced with no command, crackling faintly in anticipation.
The Arma Gigas responded without hesitation. Its massive claymore sliced through the air with an audible whoosh. The blade came down like a damn executioner's guillotine, hitting Jacques with a resounding boom and a cloud of dust that obscured everything for a moment.
It tried to pull the blade back. It didn't budge.
A chuckle befitting the shitty villain he was stuck in left his lips.
The dust settled, revealing Jacques standing there, his hand casually wrapped around the blade's edge. The absurd size of the claymore dwarfed him, but his grip held real firm.
A mean laugh left his throat.
The grin that split Jacques' face wasn't a pretty thing. It wasn't meant to be.
Jacques' grip tightened on the massive blade, his fingers digging into its cold metal. "You're gonna need more than that," Jacques cackled. The words were drowned out by the screeching sound of the Arma Gigas' metal legs grinding against the floor.
But Jacques wasn't going to just stand there. He lowered his shoulder, and his other hand shot to the back of the blade, securing it in place.
Jacques shifted his weight, his legs planted firmly beneath him. With barely any effort, he twisted his body. The Arma Gigas' massive sword bent in the wrong direction, metal groaning in protest, before snapping like a twig.
The Arma Gigas staggered back with its momentum lost. A second later, the broken part of its blade sailed through the air and slammed into its head, digging through metal.
The Arma Gigas struggled to recover.
His knees bent, and in a single explosive motion, he launched himself into the air, soaring several meters in front of the giant knight. His arm cocked back, knuckles white, muscles coiling with power as he pushed his Aura into his fist and wrist, and then—
His fist slammed into the Arma Gigas' chest plate. The metal cracked on impact, and with a sickening sound, the force blasted through its core, ripping the back clean off.
The shockwave sent debris flying in all directions, and the impact was so strong that it tore through the ground and bent the steel walls on the opposite side of the arena.
The Arma Gigas crumpled, reduced to nothing more than a mangled wreck.
Jacques landed smoothly on his feet and grinned ear to ear. "That's what I call a knockout," he said, wiping a smudge of dust from his face.
He turned to the wolves, who were lying some distance away, watching intently. The same shade of violet as his Aura glowed in their eyes.
"I suppose it's about time we get to the real work," Jacques muttered, a grin spreading across his face. His hand flexed, still feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
He wasn't one to shy away from a challenge, and this whole ordeal had been nothing short of satisfying.
But now, he had bigger things in mind. Something far more important than a few tin cans.
Jack had never been the type to wait or waste time. The grin on his face turned a tad bit predatory. "We going the whole nine yards tonight, lads."
With a quick motion, Jacques snapped his fingers, and both wolves perked up, their ears twitching in response.
Jacques was strong.
Divine Dogs were decently strong.
He'd say they had pretty good odds of running the gauntlet tonight. Well, almost running the gauntlet.
It was still a bit early for the Last Boss.
"Let's get you some friends," Jacques said with a wicked grin, glancing over at the wolves, who growled in unison as if they understood exactly what he meant.
He wasn't just stopping at White and Black. No, tonight, he was going to tame the other eight beasts of the Ten Shadows Shikigami. Divine Dog was just the start. And if these Megumi could handle most of them, seeing the power he'd just unleashed, the others wouldn't stand a chance.
"Time to see what you can really do," he muttered, cracking his knuckles. A sense of excitement built within him.
Jacques wasn't a patient man.
H stood still for a moment, thinking about the Ten Shadows Technique. It wasn't your average power; it had layers and depth, each shikigami bringing something different to the table. But Jacques wasn't here to collect trophies. He wasn't interested in the ones that only offered him something he could find elsewhere.
The answer to which Shikigami he must tame first was trivial.
Out of the ten, two of them stood out to him. The rest? They were either about power, elemental control, or diversion. Power? He had that already. His Aura was only going to keep growing stronger. Elemental control? Well, being the Dust Man had its perks; he might as well bend the fucking elements to his will.
Diversion? With the resources at his disposal, he didn't need really a shikigami for that.
Of course, all of them offered a bit more than he was admitting, but while it would be a bitch and hurt...Losing them wouldn't be the end of the world, but the last two? Those were worth more than anything.
The first was obviously Mahoraga. Duh!
The Second offered something that none other could provide for him. Regeneration. With this Shikigami, Jacques knew that death itself would have to work much harder to reach him.
He raised his hands, his fingers subtly curling to form the shape. His right thumb and index finger met in a curve, the rest curled outlining the horns. the back of his right hand settled on the back of the left.
The gesture was smooth and came to him almost instinctively. One of the hand signs that were essential to summoning. He pushed his Aura deeper into his expanding shadow.
Behind him, the wolves howled in unison to set up the stage.
He closed his eyes, visualizing the shape of what he wanted to summon. His instincts guided him through the process.
And then, he spoke the name.
"Tranquil Deer."
For a split second, nothing happened.
But then, the shadows at his feet began to shift, writhing and coiling as the form of the shikigami began to take shape. It was subtle at first, just a ripple of darkness, but then, out of the dark, it rose.
It was absurdly muscular, with a body packed with strength that made it stand out among the other shikigami. Its head was bowed, as if in quiet reverence, but Jacques could feel the raw power underneath.
Red-dotted ears sat atop its head, twitching as it took in its surroundings. it had a thick and healthy coat and a shiny mane covering its chest like armor. The long, elegant five-pointed antlers curved from its head, almost crown-like.
It was also fucking massive, the damn thing the size of a short bus.
Jacques cracked a grin, sizing it up. "Well, ain't you a big fucker," he said.
Tranquil Deer raised its head to look at Jacques, five eyes glaring at him with calmness that quickly turned into a glare absolute murder. It let out a deep, guttural growl that sounded something between a stag's roar and a rumbling snarl.
Jacques cracked his knuckles, a wicked grin on his face as he stepped forward. The wolves spread out around him, ready for the signal.
"Aim for the legs, and I'll cave its head in," he commanded
With a single, fluid motion, the wolves lunged, teeth bared. Jacques burst forward with them He cocked his fist back, ready to deliver good on his promise of splattering the stag's brain across the ground. the Divine Dogs moved to attack the legs.
Tranquil Deer slammed its hooves into the ground. A soft green light filled the arena.
The Divine Dogs vanished in an instant.
Jacques barely had time to register their disappearance before Tranquil Deer lunged.
Its massive head crashed into Jacques' chest, just as his arm moved in response. The impact sent him flying back with a sickening thud. He ricocheted off the steel walls of the hall, the wind knocked out of him as he skidded across the floor.
Jacques' body finally slammed into the wall, the impact rattling him to his core. He coughed, blood trickling down his forehead, his chest feeling like one massive bruise. Shit...
He touched his chest with his free hand, and felt a wetness.
"Fucker definitely broke a rib," he muttered under his breath, though the chuckle that followed quickly turned into another cough.
It wasn't going to be this easy. No wonder Megumi never tamed it. This bastard could deactivate techniques with its ability. His dogs hadn't died; they were unsummoned.
But, then again, Jack was never the type to just lay down, and take a beating.
His eyes locked on Tranquil Deer, now kneeling in the distance. Blood continued to pour from the wound at its throat, but instead of collapsing, the massive beast began to heal itself. Flesh knit back together as the deer lifted its head, glaring at him.
Jacques grinned, tasting blood in his mouth, as he held up the chunk of flesh he'd torn from its neck before being sent flying.
"Guess I wasn't the only one who underestimated my enemy, eh cunt?" he taunted, wiping his lip.
He stood up, shaking off the pain. Injuries didn't matter this time. No matter how fucked up he got, he'd just have the damn thing heal him after he beat it to death.
Before he went back in, he pulled out his scroll, still working despite the chaos, and with a couple of clicks, he accessed the mansion's security system. He disabled the cameras in this section of the mansion. Can't have people see his get his ass beat by an oversized donkey.
'Gotta make sure no one comes and fucks up the taming ritual.'
That would embarrassing.
Then, he spoke.
"Good evening, this is your patriarch speaking. To all servants, maids, guards, and family—attention please.' his voice boomed through systems of the entire estate, and echoed across every corner.
"Those of you in the staff quarters, guards in the halls, and anyone within earshot—hear this. You will make no attempt to approach Section D-12. I've given explicit orders to establish a fortified perimeter around this area, and I expect it to be obeyed without hesitation.
If you are not trained in combat, do not, under any circumstances, venture near this location. Your lives will not be guaranteed if you disobey. I trust I don't need to elaborate on the consequences.
To those who are capable—fighters, aura users—your priority is the safety of my wife and son. They will be kept under protection at all costs. Focus all available resources to ensure their security. This is non-negotiable.
Let it be known: should you attempt to breach the designated area, I make no promises about your survival. No one is to enter. No exceptions.
And for those who may still be foolish enough to try... Should you survive this night, I will make sure your lives become something far worse. Should any harm befell my family or my servants, the suffering you'll endure will be a lesson learned in blood.
Consider yourselves warned. Now, proceed."
....
"FUCKING MOVE!" he added, for good measure.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Within moments, the entire household was mobilized. The heavy footfalls of guards rushed with purpose. The quiet hum of the security systems locked into place, and the staff efficiently organized a separate perimeter further away
The Schnee family had long prided itself on its ability to respond to crises with the swiftness and precision of a well-oiled machine. Tonight was no different. They'd been given an order, and they moved to carry it out without a single misstep.
Within seconds, both the Madame and the Son of the Schnee Family were escorted to separate secure areas, surrounded by the estate's best guards. Whitley, still young, was kept under a much more intense protection.
The boy's safety was paramount. He was after all the Future of the Schnee name.
And with that, the halls fell silent once more, save for the distant sound of Jacques' threatening words echoing one last time before the comms cut off.
A clear declaration that could only have meant one thing.
[Come then, you filthy animal. I'll show you what human supremacy looks like!]