As Glynda approached, it was clear that James' ship had certainly seen better days. Parts of the hull had been clawed by Grimm and still had visible damage. The holes had been patched, but a good portion of the interior was in disarray. As they had for the past few weeks, soldiers worked to organize and repair their fleet. Torchwick and his accomplice certainly hadn't hesitated to smash the inside of the flagship.

However, it was still a preferable meeting place compared to Beacon. The headmaster's office had been demolished, and the historic building suffered far more visible damage from the attack.

Once Glynda was led to James' office, she sat in front of the general's desk. Fortunately, this room had been left intact. Although he'd reorganized it since the last time she'd visited. The globe he usually had on his desk was missing, as was his nameplate.

They got their polite greetings out of the way immediately.

"I've discreetly placed the bombs at various locations in the tower," he said and handed her a device and a sheet of paper. "This is where they're located and the remote to detonate them."

Bombs placed in the school. Glynda grimaced at the thought, but in their vulnerable state, even Ozpin might have found it hard to argue against these measures.

"They're . . . as powerful as we need?" She asked.

He nodded. "They'll stop anyone short of Clark or his double. However, that won't matter since Cinder herself needs to be present to access the Relic. The explosives will delay any further action against Beacon for some time."

Delay. That was the best they could do against Salem, delay her. Even if Glynda took the increased caution around Beacon and Vale into account, she couldn't fool herself into believing this would be more than a temporary measure. The level of destruction Cinder had achieved was frightening.

"You're certain that Salem will know that these have been placed? I wouldn't want to have to use them if Cinder makes another attempt before Beacon is repaired."

"They'll know," he replied. "I've uploaded enough information on one of the system's Cinder's virus compromised that she should figure it out."

"Good." Glynda placed the remote in her pocket and out of sight. It was unpleasant, discussing the destruction of the school she'd been sworn to protect. Even if it was for the greater good. The window gave her a view of the other ships in the airfield and helped take her mind off the subject. "When do you plan on leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

Glynda faced him with wide eyes. "So soon?"

His lips formed a rueful smile. "Yes. According to the people of Vale, I've already overstayed my welcome."

"Ah, I see. You shouldn't take them to heart, James. They don't know you." Her words of reassurance sounded hollow even to her ears. It was public knowledge that Cinder's virus had taken control of his machines, there were many who still blamed him for their role in the attack. Even if they hadn't, the very fact that control of his machines had been seized by a terrorist painted an alarming picture of their vulnerability.

Glynda watched James carefully. His face held little of his true thoughts at even at the best of times, but now his stark expression was an impenetrable barrier.

He turned his eyes outside, no longer meeting her own. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke. "Ozpin was right, I shouldn't have brought my army here. The people of Vale were uneasy the moment my ships appeared, and they had their worst fears realized when my soldiers turned on them."

"You can't blame yourself for that. None of us had any idea of the scale of Cinder's plans."

"I know. I said much the same to Clark."

But that didn't necessarily mean that James didn't hold himself responsible.

"Interesting that you've begun calling him by his first name," Glynda noted instead. "There was a time when I wondered whether you'd ever call him something besides 'the alien'. At least, when you weren't with him."

James turned back "He destroyed many of my rampaging droids and mechs with ease. I still find that worrisome, but I can't deny that if it weren't for him, much more blood would be on my hands."

"None of the bloodshed in the attack is on your hands," she insisted.

He didn't reply, but she knew what his answer would be. Glynda could press all she wanted, but he was far too stubborn to listen to her.

\\\\\

Councilor Asenich read over the message from Ironwood and Goodwitch. It seemed that relations between Beacon and Atlas Academy remained strong even after Ozpin's death.

According to them, Cinder Fall had organized the attack on Vale to obtain something within Beacon. Neither the new headmistress of Beacon nor the general seemed to know what, but during the attack, Cinder had personally gone to Beacon and killed Ozpin.

If she was skilled enough to do that, no lone huntsman stood much of a chance against her. Which was the purpose of the proposal included in this message.

Hah, a proposal. More like an announcement of their future course of action regardless of what the Council wanted. They were planting deadly weapons in the school in case of the woman's return, and through some convoluted legal loopholes, Goodwitch was in her right to do so. They combined the fact that Beacon had special laws concerning it, and their ability to take command during times of Grimm crises. Which Cinder Fall could count as, since she and the White Fang had used Grimm in their attack.

It would take a long legal battle to contest it. One that Asenich couldn't afford with the current state of the city, and he didn't necessarily disagree with the course of action. It might be necessary. What he disagreed with was the fact that Goodwitch was allowed to do so without the Council's input.

There was nothing he could do to change it though. At least, not now.

Asenich clicked out of the message and opened the file that he'd been scrutinizing earlier. Footage of the Dart during the attack.

He'd received another message, this one concerning the Dart. The sender had possessed the same information as the one who'd dug up the blackmail material on Asenich, but the wording indicated that it was a different individual from before.

Although that wasn't certain, they'd indicated that they also had some sort of relationship with the vigilante. They'd emphasized that Asenich shouldn't try to stain the Dart's reputation, especially now.

Asenich snorted, as if he could. The people loved the Dart for his role in the attack. Nobody would entertain an argument against an individual taking matters into his own hands when he'd accomplished this. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of Grimm killed, multitudes of malfunctioning Atlesian droids destroyed, and even more people saved.

Jason was one of them. Asenich's son would have died if the Dart hadn't interfered.

That didn't mean Asenich would join the mindless mob that praised the Dart. It certainly didn't give the Dart legitimacy, nor would Asenich ignore how the man had invaded his home and threatened him.

But neither would Asenich ignore the fact that Jason now lived because of the man.

\\\\\

Orion's weapon shop was only a few blocks from Signal, a prep school on Patch. The brick building was roughly the size of a supermarket, and the size probably served it well during the school season. When hundreds of students could come at once for repairs or parts.

Now though, it wasn't nearly as busy. Clark could easily flash to one of the blind spots in its security cameras without anyone seeing him. Once he did so and walked around the corner, he was greeted by the two who'd asked to come with him.

"You're early!" Ruby zipped forward with a flurry of rose petals, and Jaune rushed over beside her.

"It'd be pretty bad if I was, especially with how fast I am. Have you two been waiting for long?"

Jaune shook his head. "N-no, sir. Only a few minutes."

"You don't have to call me sir, Clark is fine."

"Really, it okay?" The blond shuffled nervously. "It just . . . doesn't feel right to be so casual with you."

"It's what I'd prefer." Without another word, Clark entered the store through the its automatic glass doors.

Nobody else was in the store at ten in the morning, and a man behind the counter sat on a stool while watching the news on a TV in the upper corner. He looked to be in his fifties and was bald. However, he had a long, brown, well-groomed beard with hints of gray. His physique was impressive, his short sleeves didn't cover up his toned arms, and it took Clark the barest amount of concentration to hear the corded muscles and lack of fat in the man's body.

Once he stood up, he almost matched Clark's height. The man's smile was polite, but his expression brightened in recognition once he settled on the youngest of their group.

"Ruby!" The man's voice was rich and deep, almost booming off his barrel chest. "You've grown so much since I last saw you! How long has it been? A year?"

She grinned, apparently very appreciative that the man had noticed her growth. "Obviously, I drink milk, Orion."

Orion chuckled. "I must say, it's good to see you safe and sound. It's horrible what happened at Beacon, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, sir. B-but it was pretty bad, I'd rather not talk about it."

The storeowner nodded in understanding. "Of course, of course, let's not dwell on that. I'm glad that you're back, there are so few who appreciate weapons like you. What can I help you with?"

"Oh, I'm not actually here for anything. I'm just coming with a . . . a friend." She looked back at Clark tentatively for approval of her use of the term.

He didn't disapprove, even if it was too soon to say they were friends exactly. "Yeah, I'm here to pick up a set of armor. My name's Clark Kent."

Orion's eyebrows shot up. "Oh! That's yours? Sure, I can get it for you. I'll need to see some ID first, of course."

Clark handed him his scroll, and after the storeowner confirmed that everything was in order, he went to the back to retrieve the armor.

Orion came out wheeling a crate on a dolly. It took him a bit of effort to carry it and place it on the counter. He opened it and presented the contents with a bit of flourish.

"Here it is," the man said. The parts inside were modern, but still reminiscent of medieval designs to Clark's untrained eye. "There's a packet with information of the specs of the armor, but before you try it on, do you have any questions?"

Clark checked them with X-ray vision. There was a layer of lead in each section, with varying thicknesses depending on what part it was. There were a lot of straps, but it didn't look too difficult to put on.

"These gauntlets look more complicated than they should be." Clark held one of them up, he didn't even need X-ray vision to tell that it was pretty intricate. "Is there a reason why?"

"Ah, they're mecha-shift, but nothing too dramatic. I'll show you, could you remove your jacket?" Orion extended a hand, and Clark gave him the gauntlet. Then, once Clark took off his jacket, he strapped it around Clark's arm and fingers. "If it's it too tight, you can adjust it here if you want. Now, flick your wrist like this." The man demonstrated.

Clark did so, and the metal retracted into his wrist to reveal his bare hand. He did it again for the metal to crawl up his palm and cover his fingers again.

"I assume that's what you wanted?" Orion asked.

Clark nodded. He hadn't asked for this, but he could see why it would be useful. His fist was tougher than the armor, and while the metal wouldn't last in a fight against the phantom, it might survive long enough for Clark to grab and throw away any kryptonite.

"I'll be honest Mr. Kent, this armor confuses me." Orion said. "It certainly wouldn't be light even if it were made of pure steel, but the lead adds even more weight. There are certain other issues with this armor that I'm not completely comfortable letting a customer walk out with."

"The lead has to do with my Semblance." Clark lied. "But what are the other issues?"

"Well if it's for a Semblance, that's somewhat reassuring. Tell me, did you order this yourself?"

"I asked for it, but the order was made by someone a lot more familiar with my needs."

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Orion nodded. "I see, that explains the money that went into making this. Normally, this might have taken weeks."

"How long did it take you?" asked Ruby.

"Oh, most of this armor was made by others and delivered here. I was responsible for the gauntlets and quality testing all of the parts this past week. Tens of thousands of lien went into this."

Jaune's jaw dropped and Ruby's eyes shot wide open. Even Clark was mildly surprised, but then again, that amount of money probably wasn't that much to Ironwood.

"Anyway, the problems with this armor." Orion continued. "Despite its weight, mobility was a prime focus in the design, as you'll be able to see in the joints. If that's part of your Semblance, I guess that wouldn't matter. However, it won't be comfortable temperature-wise. You'll work up a sweat quickly and bake in hot weather."

"None of those will be issues for me," Clark replied.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay then . . . you should still try it on before you leave with. I've been paid to make any necessary adjustments. You can't exactly wear jeans under it, so it comes with a few light underclothes. Changing rooms are over there." Orion gestured.

Clark carried the box containing the armor over to one of the rooms and began to change. The instructions in the packet were easy to follow, and while he strapped each piece on, Clark overheard Ruby asking Orion for more specifics on the armor. They mentioned the material's toughness and composition, although with some words that he didn't recognize.

After stretching his limbs to make sure he wouldn't accidentally destroy the armor while moving around, he emerged from the changing rooms. Everything from his collarbone down to his ankles was covered. He could see why Ironwood had done so. A helmet would get in the way of some of his powers, and metal boots weren't necessary. His bare feet were better for combat.

"Wow, it looks awesome!" Jaune said.

Clark shrugged. He supposed it was pretty stylish, but he didn't really have an opinion either way. As long as it got the job done, it could have been decorated with pink stripes and polka dots.

"How does it feel? Is it too tight anywhere? Uncomfortable?" Orion asked.

"No, it's fine." No clothing ever felt tight to Clark, but thanks to his enhanced sense of touch, he could tell that it wouldn't have been anyway.

Ruby stepped over to the crate. "Can I take a look through the information packet?"

"Sure," he replied. That was one of the reasons she'd come after all. He handed it to her so she could flip through the pages.

"Variable deployment times . . . long-lasting gears . . . medium carbon steel. . ." She continued to mutter as she took in the information. Eventually, she placed it back inside. "Wow, this is pretty high quality. Could you implement Dust in it?" She asked the storeowner.

"It shouldn't be too difficult. There's plenty of space to fit some in, and the gauntlets could be adjusted to something similar to your sister's. Would you like Dust capabilities to be added?" The question was directed at Clark.

"No, that's fine."

A look of disappointment crossed Ruby's face. "Yeah, it'd probably be expensive," she said.

"Well then, I think everything's taken care of. You'll just need to sign here." Orion turned around one of the screens at the counter for Clark to sign. "Also, if it suffers any damage in the next week or doesn't perform as promised in the packet, then you can come back, and we'll repair it free of charge."

"You should probably get polish and lubricant for maintenance," Ruby said.

"What would you recommend?"

"Umm . . ." Her eyes roamed the shelves. "Ooh, this one and this one! And this!" She grabbed a bottle of polish and oil each, and a polishing cloth. "I have plenty of tools for opening up the gauntlets too, in case you need them."

"Oh, thanks."

"Sure!" She beamed.

Clark added her recommended items to the order and left the store after he signed. He kept the armor on, which received a strange look from the storeowner, but the man didn't mention it.

Now he needed to really test the armor. It fit on his body well, and allowed a surprising amount of flexibility, but it still wasn't certain whether the joints would withstand his full sprint.

"So, um, we were thinking, if you're not too busy, can we ask you some questions?" Jaune asked.

"What kind of questions?"

"Oh, normal stuff," Ruby said. "What it's like being the Dart, how late you stay out at night, your symbol, plus some stuff Jaune and I have to settle."

He frowned. "Maybe some other time. I still need to test out this armor, and then I have to meet your uncle for training."

"Oh," she replied. Her shoulders sagged. "Oh yeah, of course."

"Sorry," Clark said as his eyes and ears scanned the area for any onlookers.

"No problem, so . . . can you give us an exact idea when?" Jaune asked.

"Maybe tomorrow. Bye."

With the crate in his hands, he raced off to a place he'd found a few miles out of town. Secluded, but still within scroll range, if just barely.

The armor was holding up well.

\\\\\

Yang watched as her dad sparred Clark. Uncle Qrow had asked her to come by to help give the guy any tips in hand-to-hand combat, and get some training of her own in.

She hadn't thought she'd be helpful at first, but it turned out that she was. Clark was crazy strong, but that didn't mean he was a good fighter.

Okay, he wasn't bad. His stance was a decent beginner one, and he didn't make the mistakes a rookie would, but he wasn't even that proficient. Yang had been better in terms of pure technique when she was Ruby's age.

Although after watching him, Yang could tell that he had potential. His muscle control was insanely good, and he had a solid guard. Even though he was a beginner, none of her dad's moves surprised him. He stepped back every time Tai tried to knock him off balance and blocked or dodged every hit.

It was easy to see that none of the moves came naturally to him, but that didn't matter when nobody could match his physical capabilities. He looked like he was having some difficulty with her dad, but he only looked that way. He could easily win a brawl with her dad using only a bit of his real strength and speed, but he was good at making it seem like he was putting in actual effort. If Yang hadn't looked carefully, she would have missed the small twitches he made the instant her dad moved to strike him. Clark delayed his reactions by enough to not seem suspicious.

"Oooph!" Her dad had the breath knocked out of him from a good hit. He'd allowed it but didn't seem to have been prepared for the power behind it. He bent over and rubbed his stomach. "Okay, ow. Looks like you're really starting to get the hang of the weight behind your punches with that armor."

The heavy-looking armor that didn't slow him down at all.

"Are you okay, sir?"

"I'm fine," he responded a bit too quickly.

Qrow chuckled. "Hey, you can admit it. It's not every day you get pounded by a kid half your age."

"I didn't get pounded." Tai glared at the man. "Besides, I'd like to see you shrug off one of his hits. Is your Semblance increased strength or something?" He asked Clark.

"Something like that."

"Hmm, well, you have a good foundation at least. I'd say your biggest priority would be to get more sparring experience. You're hesitating too much. In a real fight, you need to be able to move almost without thinking." Tai faced the two standing on the sidelines. "Anything you two want to add?"

"Yeah. Clark, you don't have to, but I'd think it'd be great if you incorporated more kicking into your fighting style," Qrow said.

"Qrow, shut up."

"Why?"

"You're just saying that because you want to see him kick me in the face," Tai said.

"Nope, my suggestion is perfectly reasonable." Qrow's grin was way too wide for that to be true. "Clark, do you want to learn how to kick people?"

"It'd be useful."

The blond sighed. "Okay. Before that, Yang, you want to bring up anything you noticed?"

She shook her head.

For the next half-hour, Tai instructed Clark in the forms of some basic moves. Just side, axe, front, and roundhouse kicks. Once he got the hang of them, Tai also suggested exercises so he could build up muscle memory for each of them.

Yang's dad had been able to catch his breath. So even though he looked like he really didn't want to, he accepted Clark's request for another spar.

This time, Clark tried to use some of the kicks that he'd just learned. They weren't nearly as successful as his punches or jabs, and Tai dealt with them a lot more easily.

What didn't go as well were when the blond tried to knock Clark off his feet. Even when Clark overextended a kick and stood only on one leg, Tai couldn't unbalance him. That had to be more than just good balance or super strength.

"Whoa!" Tai tumbled back on the grass from Clark's front kick and rolled a good distance away.

Yang and Qrow burst out laughing. The look of shock on her dad's face was priceless, he'd blocked the kick, but the force behind it had been too much.

Concern flashed across Clark's face instead. Looked like he hadn't tried to kick that hard. "Sorry, was that too much? I tried to do what you said."

"That was . . . fine. Good job." Tai grunted and got to his feet.

"So is it okay if we continue? I feel like I'm getting a handle on this."

Tai's eyes widened. They'd been going at it for the past few hours, but Clark didn't seem tired at all. Seriously, he was like a machine.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Qrow chimed in. "I mean, just look at the poor guy. Covered in sweat and dirt, he deserves a break."

"Screw you, Qrow," Tai said. Although he didn't deny it.

"Heh, anyway, I can handle the rest here. You should probably go back and take a shower and rest your old bones."

"We're the same age, Qrow." He said. "Hey Clark, next time you spar him, I want to watch. And promise me you won't go easy on him."

Clark glanced at Qrow before replying. "Um, okay?"

"Okay Tai, now go." Qrow made a shooing motion. "We don't need you here anymore."

The blond snorted and began to walk away. "You're such an ass."

By the time he was far enough, Qrow clapped Yang in the back. "Clark's not the only one who needs training. You're up."

Great. Now it was her turn to spar him. The guy who'd taken down the dragon and looked fresh as a daisy even after sparring her dad for the past few hours. She might actually be more winded than him, since she'd gotten some light practice in with Qrow while Clark had trained with her dad.

\\\\\

Clark maintained his stance as Yang came up to spar. She hid it well, but Clark had heard her take a deep breath, and could see hints of nervousness in her face. He would have offered to go easy on her, but he'd spent long enough with team CFVY to know that would be more of an insult. Besides, going easy on her wouldn't benefit her if she needed training.

"What are we going to be working on?" He asked.

"Nothing too specific, you're going to put the moves you learned into practice," Qrow said. "Yang, for now just fight how you normally would."

She nodded and raised her arms in her own fighting stance. She kept them lower than Clark's, but that was probably more effective with her weapons. It was a good reminder that she wasn't a pure hand-to-hand opponent like her father.

"Ready, go!"

She didn't approach, instead she warily circled him to his left. He did the same, keeping her across from him.

Then, he made the first move. Clark rushed forward, faster than any normal human could have managed, but not overly impressive by huntsman standards. It was slightly slower than what he used for Pe- who he'd normally spar with, but Yang didn't look like she had the same level of speed as the smaller girl.

He went in for a light jab, which she blocked. Her gauntlet transformed, and with a yell, she fired off a round almost point-blank.

Clark backed up and avoided it, but only by using some mild super-speed. He was reluctant to use it too liberally; he needed his reactions to be up to par without it. He wouldn't know if it would translate to faster reactions when using super-speed, but it couldn't hurt to try.

Thanks to his previous training, he could stop his automatic reaction of speeding up his perception, and could have chosen to take the attack. However, he wasn't a fan of shredded clothing, and he didn't want to get into the habit of depending on the armor or his own durability. Since the phantom could easily destroy the first and was strong enough to hurt him anyway.

Clark stepped to the side to avoid another shot, revealing that backing up had proven to be a mistake. Yang's dust projectiles weren't as fast as bullets, but without super-speed, Clark barely dodged them.

"Keep your knees bent, Clark!" Qrow ordered. "You're pretty much inviting someone to knock you off your feet."

Clark grimaced and obeyed the huntsman. He was still having trouble avoiding Yang's shots. He considered using heat vision to detonate them before they reach him or super-breath knock them out of the way, but he changed his mind. This spar was for him to learn hand-to-hand.

After a couple more shots, she dropped her arms. Was it to load more shells? He didn't know, but he took the opportunity and ran forward.

Yang threw a fist at him at his approach, which he dodged. He almost didn't avoid the follow-up kick to his face though. It was one of the few portions of his body unprotected by armor. Although it wasn't as though it would have hurt if she hit him.

"What was up with that? Shouldn't dodging those shots have been easy as pie for you?" She asked, her tone was casual, but her eyes remained sharp and focused on him.

He aimed a kick at her. She blocked it, and his armor clanged off her gauntlet. "If I used my speed, yes. I'm not always operating that quickly, even though I can if I need to."

Yang frowned, and surprisingly, her eyes flickered red.

That was when Clark got a hit in, a punch to her gut. She grunted, and launched a fist at him. He knocked it away and elbowed her in the side.

He narrowed his eyes. She hadn't made a move to defend herself from that, and her hair was glowing slightly too. He knew what that meant, he'd seen it during the tournament.

"Hiyaa!" Her foot came up. After he dodged it, she followed the attack with a fist. He kept his distance from her for the next few attacks and focused completely on defense.

"Are you going to do anything more than dodge?!" She yelled. Her frustration was clear, her moves were getting more powerful, but less controlled.

"Okay, hold on for a second." Qrow called out.

They both turned to face the huntsman. The fire in Yang's hair died down as Qrow walked up to face her. "Why'd you use your Semblance?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me, why'd you try to use your Semblance?" Qrow repeated his question.

"Because I wasn't having any luck hitting him."

"And you thought using your Semblance would change that? It makes you stronger and somewhat faster, but you're sloppy with it. You try to rush forward and use your power to get a hit in, but you only made it easier for Clark to dodge you."

Yang looked aside and her lips pinched together. "Okay, I get it."

"Good. Clark, do you know what her Semblance is?"

He nodded. "She absorbs and redirects force."

"And how would you normally deal with that?"

"Take out her aura as quick as I can?" He replied. "I assume that would work, since her aura dropped first when she fought my friend during the Vytal Festival."

"What if you didn't have that option? What if that just made Yang stronger? How'd you deal with her then?

"Keep hitting? She'd still have a limit, right? I'd get there eventually."

Qrow shook his head. "Okay, you both need a little lesson. First, Clark, you're gonna charge up Yang's Semblance. Hit her hard. Yang, get ready for it. After that, attack him how you normally would."

She nodded and got back into fighting position. Her hair shone and her eyes flickered as signs of activating her Semblance.

Qrow moved back. "We're gonna start when I say so." Then, in a much lower voice, he added. "Clark, if you're listening, move your left foot out a bit."

Clark did, and received Qrow's response.

"Hit Yang hard enough to send her flying through the trees. And I mean through them, trunks and all. Don't worry, she'll be fine." He added when Clark's eyes widened. "After that, don't go on the offensive. Stay back and see whether there's a better way to take her out."

The young man gave the huntsman a questioning look. Instead of answers, Qrow just said. "Keep your eyes on the fight. Ready, go!"

Clark charged a fist at Yang, and she actually held up pretty well against it. The blow only resulted in her sliding back a bit and her blonde hair brightening. She lowered her arms with a grin. "Heh, that all you got?"

It had been a blow almost twice as hard as what he usually tried against Ms. Goodwitch and Qrow, but she'd taken it easily.

"Harder, Clark. Much harder, like I said. She can take it."

Maybe she could. Yang held her arms up to block again, and this time Clark followed Qrow's directions. He put a lot more power into the blow. Enough power that when his fist connected with her, it sent her flying into the forest. She slammed into the ground and kicked up dirt, and any concerns Clark had vanished once she got up almost immediately. Which was impressive. A few years ago, even he might not have recovered as quickly from a hit like that.

"Raaargh!" She leapt forward, her hair shining far brighter than before. Her speed had increased, but not as much as her strength.

Instead of going on the offensive, Clark evaded her as Qrow had advised. She'd taken Qrow's words to heart too, her moves were still forceful, but they were more controlled than before. Clark could feel the power behind her fists as they flew by him, there was significantly more strength than what he'd hit her with. A multiplier too?

She was being more cautious than earlier, but there was clearly still anger there. Her moves were a lot easier to read now, even an amateur like him could dodge them.

After her attacks went wide a few more times, Clark realized what Qrow had wanted him to see. Yes, he could have whittled Yang down like Yatsuhashi, or even used brute force to drop her aura. However, he didn't need to. She was tiring herself out with the power in those blows. A flame burning twice as hot lasting half as long.

It wasn't always going to be an option for Clark to finish a fight with immense strength or speed. Not unless he wanted an enemy to figure out that he was the Dart. He could hang back to watch for any weaknesses in their abilities. It was especially easy for someone with his vision and hearing.

By the time she started panting, Qrow spoke up. "You both get what I meant?"

Clark nodded.

"Yeah," Yang said in a frustrated tone.

"I'm fairly sure we can give Clark the win here. Unless you want him to prove him by wrecking your aura?" Qrow teased his niece.

"No, I get it. Good match." She reached out to shake his arm.

He shook it. "Yeah, thanks for the help."