Three

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By the next day, his armor was finished, and delivered to his quarters on an armor stand for him to appraise it.

His left side was already the more armored side, so they'd leaned into that, adding a sleeve of thick, padded gambeson topped with dark steel plating. His other arm was less armored, with a sleeve of chainmail over gambeson that cinched at his wrist, elbow and shoulder with thick leather bands. The same dark iron chainmail ran into a short that covered him down to his thighs, cinched at the waist with a leather belt and with thick cloth hanging on the inside and outside of the 'skirt' that hung down, protecting his thighs. Lastly, he had thick leather boots, topped by steel toe-caps that ran up to just under his knees, fronted by a smooth stretch of black, scarred iron.

"Not bad." He grunted, pulling the thick wool cloak around his shoulders and clasping the little silver clasp. Turning, he raised his arms and dropped them and frowned, "Bit heavy, though…"

"It is armor, master." Gnarl rolled his eyes, "And thats not even that heavy!"

"It isn't?"

"No!" Gnarl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Count to ten dead seals, Gnarl. Count to ten…"

"Ten what now?"

"Laps!" Gnarl snapped, throwing his hands up in the air, "Laps. Ten laps around the base of the Tower."

"Wait, what-"

"Training, Master." Gnarl explained quietly, turning to him and speaking simply, patiently. Like a teacher, almost. A teacher that only came up to his waist, but a teacher nonetheless. "Endurance is more important than many things in battle. Armor, weapons, even strength - none of it matters if you're too tired to apply them liberally to whoever happens to be disagreeing with you at the moment."

"I feel like we need more than 'disagreement' to kill each other…"

"And I feel like you're doing a lot of talking and not a lot of running, Master." Gnarl smirked, clapping his hands, "Come, now, chop chop!"

He rolled his eyes tiredly and headed for the door to his room with a grumble, "I don't even know how to get down-"

"Ah!" Gnarl was suddenly in front of him,blocking the door and smiling widely, sharp teeth glinting in the light of the fire crackling in his hearth, which made him look all the more evil as he gestured at the balcony. "That way, Lord."

"I'm sorry?"

"Only if you haven't…"

"Gnarl, this isn't funny." Jaune warned, cocking his head and pointing a finger. "You promised you wouldn't laugh if I told you what happened, Gnarl."

"Oh, Master, Minions do love to lie. But please, relax, you'll be fine! You just need something." The Minion smirked even wider, somehow, and finished coyly, "So… Got a good landing strategy in mind?"

He wanted to scream.

Standing on the balcony, looking down at the rocky, snow-covered base of the Tower, he wanted to scream even more. Leaning over, he chuckled weakly, "I-I… Don't know about this, Gnarl. Like, at all."

"You'll be fine, Master." Gnarl assured him, shuffling over to pat the small of his back comfortingly. "Use your Seal to slow and break your fall. Simple as, Master."

"Are you sure…?"

"Nope." He turned to glare at him and Gnarl chuckled darkly, shrugging, "But, even if you don't break your fall all the way, you're close enough to the Heart that you shouldn't outright die. Not from this height at least. Broken bones, sure, but… Well, we'll throw you on the Throne and you should be right as rain, with a few potions in you and some time."

"That easy?"

"Oh, yes." Gnarl nodded, "At least, it's possible!"

"What-" Before he could finish his through he heard a mighty, heavy 'ting' and turned, staring down the handful of hammer-wielding Minions, the pointed tips of their pick-hammers half an inch into the old, already crumbling stone. Jaune turned, slowly, to look at Gnarl as he backed away and frowned. "I hate you, Gnarl. Just… So much."

"Yes, well…" Gnarl chuckled, "I'm used to that!"

"Gnarl, don't you-"

"Do the thing!" He squawked as Jaune turned, pointing a long, armored finger at him. "Do it now you gits!"

"No, wait, I didn't think you'd actually- Aaaaaaah!"

He stumbled as a chunk of the balcony shifted under him suddenly and broke away, crumbling as it fell. Pushing off it to get some distance, he rolled over and sucked in a breath, heart pounding in his ear as his panic mounted-

And, suddenly, was washed away by an odd sort of… Quiet and calm that settled over him gently. Like a blanket, thrown over him to shelter him from the cold. And a voiceless sort of whispering at the back of his mind, like an old mantra or something he'd had ingrained into him from youth, 'Panic is death'. Looking down at the fast-approaching ground he twisted onto his side and brought his Gauntlet up. The Seal was simple, but Jaune had to grit his teeth as the burst of air suddenly snapped into him, throwing the calm that had come over him off and bringing back that panic once more. But, still, he focused. One, two, three more to slow himself and finally, with a rush of power, a fourth that blasted the snow away from the ground just before he hit and sent him spinning through the air from recoil.

His arm ached from all the repeated shocks, but when he came down, it only left him a bit bruised, the air rushing out of him in a 'whumpf' and a rustling 'thunk' of his armor.

He lay there for a while, body aching from teh bruises all along his arm and back, before Gnarl appeared, looming over his head and smirking. "See? You did have a landing strategy this time. Progress!"

"If you ever. Eeeeeever. Throw me off a building again, I will skin you, Gnarl." He eyed the Minion and scowled, "That clear?"

"As crystal, Lord." He bowed his head, shuffling back as Jaune sat up. When he stood, Gnarl moved to stand at his side, adding, "I had faith in you, though, Master. More than you did it yourself, which is oh so often the way with young up and coming tyrants like yourself. Nervous, a bit meek, but more than capable. And sometimes, you have to toss the bird out the nest to show it that it really can fly."

"I guess…" He grumbled, irritated even if the Head Minion had a fair point - eventually, you had to push for progress to happen. Still… "I'm not a bird, Gnarl. I'm a man-"

"Uh huh."

"-and according to you, the Overlord." He added to the Minion's snark, frowning and turning to him. "I don't care if you think I'm right or not, if I say not to do something to me then you don't do it to me."

"Crystal, as I said, Master." Gnarl smiled warmly and cocked his head, "And, if I may, spoken like a proper Overlord."

"I… Really?"

"Oh, yes." Gnarl cackled, shaking his head and wiping away an invisible tear as he turned away. "Ah, your first unreasonable authoritarian demand… I think I might cry!"

"Gnarl, I'm being perfectly reasonable here."

"Ah, they grow up so fast." Gnarl bemoaned, ignoring him entirely as he padded away, kicking morosely at some snow. "Why, it feels like barely a week ago I was dragging your pulped guts all the way here to throw on the Throne in the hopes something would happen."

"That… Was less than a week ago." He blinked, "Wait, my pulped what?"

"And now look at you!" Gnarl gasped, "Noodly doom all grown up!"

"I am not a noodle!"

"Respectfully, or, well, not really, but you have to say it-" Gnarl sighed, "Yes, you are. You're thin and gangly, and not all that intimidating. "

"I-"

"But!" Gnarl cut him off, "You're an Overlord. Play along with me, humor me, and you'll fit the mantle and the job both. Or die trying."

"Did you have to add that last part?"

"No." Gnarl shrugged, "Not really."

"Ugh…" The Minion was a rude little thing, but he'd realized that a while ago. And as much as being constantly heckled for it bothered him, Gnarl wasn't wrong. He couldn't run very fast, he wasn't the strongest around even back home, and already, being out in the cold was wearing on him - through his layers, even. He wanted to be a hero, more than anything, and he'd apparently died for it already…

But it wasn't enough. He wasn't enough. Strong enough, fast enough, skilled enough- He had miles to go in every way, and he understood that now. So, he took a breath…

And smiled, "Let's get started, then. You said laps, right?"

"To start, yes…" Gnarl's eyes narrowed, "My, are we going to be cooperative after all?"

"I'd rather not die a second time." He shrugged, "And you seem to have some experience with all this, so… Hit me with your worst. A-As long as that doesn't involve hurling me off any more building, I mean."

"My worst, eh…" Gnarl chuckled, "You'll live to regret that, Master."

"Ah." He smirked, "But I'll live!"

"I mean… Probably."

"What?" Jaune blinked, "What do you mean 'probably? Gnarl? Gnarl?!"

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"Ready, Master?"

"Since when do you ask?" He grunted, standing up from the frost-covered log he'd been eating at and waving Attendant-Minion away. Looking down on the smirking, wizened Minion, he chuckled. "Normally, you just tell me to run and, suddenly, there's a boulder or something."

"Yes, well…" Gnarl shrugged, "You've made enough progress that 'Surprise, don't die!' isn't quite as necessary, now."

"I guess that's a compliment?"

"It is." Gnarl nodded, turning and padding along through the snow beside him as they moved over to the wide swathe of ope, cleared, rocky ground at the base of the Tower, just across from a scrappy, black iron cage swarmed by spear-holding Minions. "But what can I say? You've come far in just a month. Farther than I expected, at least, but my, you threw yourself right into it! I'm unafraid to admit I am impressed, Lord, quite impressed."

He was, too, in a lot of ways. It'd been hard going, harder than anything else he'd ever, ever done in his entire life. Weights every day but one out of the week, long runs, hours spent hitting rocks with a hammer in what Gnarl promised was exercise and NOT rubble breaking to make the gravel the Minions were using to make paths out from the Tower and into the woods. Regardless, it had worked well enough he'd needed the shoulders and arms of his armor taken out - and the stomach in - less than a week ago to make the fit proper again. And now, he didn't run out of breath after a short job in full armor.

It was nice…

Not as nice as his reflection in the ice was, but nice.

"You've come far." Gnarl reiterated, "Now, just one little test, and I would say you're quite ready! I even have our first goals set up ahead of us."

"Our first goals…?"

"Hey." Gnarl grumbled, "I'm involved."

"Uh huh." He rolled his eyes and sighed, taking a deep breath of the frigid, by now familiar air and turning. "Attendant!"

The little Minion, dressed in his little pair of blue pants - more to mark him out for Jaune's sake than anything else - came jogging over as quickly as his little legs would allow. He hefted a pillow overhead in one hand and dragged Crocea Mors through the snow with the other, wobbling side to side as he huffed and puffed his way over. Turning and kneeling, Jaune took the sword and slid it, sheathed, into a loop on his belt. Then he took the helmet and stood.

It was a simple flat-top full helmet, faintly spiked along its top more for the uneven, scrapped together iron than any design. Its front was a simple 'T' shaped visor, with little holes punched into one side so he could breathe, and a thick cloth padding hung just under its chin. He pulled it on and it fit just as well as ever, warm lining fending off the chill and visor narrowing his vision - something he was still working to get used to, in all honesty, even as relatively slight as it was.

The first helmet had practically blinded him in comparison.

Voice deepened by the helmet, he grunted, "Thank you, Attendant. Now, get away. You too, Gnarl."

"Oh, I'm already gone." Gnarl chuckled, already shuffling away from him. Waving a hand over his shoulder he said, "Whenever you're ready, then! Just don't die, hm? It'd be especially annoying after all our deep, in depth training! Such a shame to waste all that development, wouldn't it be?"

He rolled his eyes and drew Crocea Mors, which still felt somehow unfamiliar in his hand. Ignoring it, he turned to the cage and called out to the Minions on top of it, "Open it and get back!"

They chittered excitedly to each other and did so, scrambling onto the back end of it and yanking on chaines looped through the rough metal. Screeching, the old chains slid, lifting up a dark flat of ice-covered steel until-

The Beowolf shoulder the metal door the rest of the way out if its way with an ear-aching screech and came scrambling out of the confines of the too-small cage, snarling and practically frothing at the mouth. Its body was lightly armored, but there was enough, bone white spines protruding along its back and at its elbow menacingly. Its mask, though, was the worst, lined in red and cracked in places from its capture only a few hours before.

And its red, furious eyes clearly blamed him when they finally turned and met his.

Sucking in a shuddering breath and pushing aside his fear, he turned his Gauntlet-side towards the monster and drew his sword. It didn't need the invitation, though, rushing across the few yards between them with a bellowing roar. Jaune held his spot, lowering his guard until it leapt for him and, with a flash of Aura, he threw his Gauntlet to the side, hand forming the by now familiar sign to push him to the side as the monster came down, its claws ripping into dirt, frost and rock as its gaze tracked him. Twisting at the waist, he made the sign again and propelled it away with a blast of power.

It landed a yard away, rolling, and came up on four legs, snarling in anger as Jaune smiled. "So, that works after all…"

This time when it charged, Jaune didn't throw himself to the side. Instead, as it came down, he only stepped to the side, turning on his right foot and pivoting with all his weight, pelting his Gauntlet-fist into the side of its head with a meaty 'thwack'. It roared, angry, and turned, swiping up with claws that screamed through the air just in front of his face as he backed away. Following him, it raised up on both lands, roaring as it clawed at him again, this time scraping across the armor of his Gauntlet painfully. Roaring, he stepped in and drove his fist in, into its bicep to check it and force an opening.

An opening he used to plunge Crocea Mors into its stomach with a wet 'squelch'.

The Grimm snarled and lifted him up, turning and hurling him aside, but Jaune kept his grip on the sword so that it ripped through its side as he went. He landed on his side and rolled over, pushing himself up with his Gauntlet and bringing his sword back as he came up on a knee and the Grimm charged him again. Finally, as it came, he threw himself back, Gauntlet coming up as its open maw came for him-

And closed around it.

It pinned him and tried to wrench its head away, aiming to break his arm, but Jaune drove his sword up into its shoulder before it could push off with its good side's arm. Lacking the strength it needed, hurt leg scrabbling in the dirt and other side bleeding badly, it couldn't hurt him. At least not beyond the bruises he felt it pressing into his arm beyond the Gauntlet. Glowing eyes met glowing eyes, and Jaune smiled, twisting his gauntlet in its teeth and making the familiar sign once again, this time towards its chest and away from the top of its head.

He could swear he saw a spark of realization in its eyes, if only for a moment…

Before its body was driven away and its head, half of it kept back by his locked arm and the Gauntlet in its jaw, ripped in two with a wep 'pop'. Its body landed a couple feet away, twitching and clawing at air, before the Grimm finally properly died and lay still, smoke rolling off of it in waves while Jaune stood. His Minions cheered, some running over excitedly to rip at the monster's bones in a vain attempt at trophies while others ran up to him, bouncing eagerly, and still a few more wrestled excitably in the snow.

"I killed it…"

"Yes, you did." Gnarl said as he joined the Overlord, looking at the fresh, dissolving, kill. "A bit sloppy, and I could tell you were testing a few more ideas out than you should in the middle of a fight, but… You managed it. Good work."

"Mhm." He nodded, raising his sword and frowning. After another moment, he sighed and put the thoughts aside. They didn't have the metal for a proper weapon, he knew - anything worthwhile had already been used upon his armor. So, odd anxiety or no, he'd just have to make do for now.

And besides - as Gnarl said, it was 'sufficiently stabby' already…

Turning, he said, "Alright, so, training's done-"

"Training is never done, but go on."

"-so what's next?" He sighed, ignoring the Minion's interruption wholly. "I'm going to make a wild and crazy guess but, I'm assuming you have a plan?"

"We need good stone for repairs." Gnarl nodded, "Amnd wood, too. Wood is easy enough, even Minions can hardly mess up chopping a tree down. But good stone…? That's harder. I only know of one place close enough we could bring it in…"

"And the problem is…?"

"It's occupied." Gnarl sighed, smirking roguishly. "At least, for now…"

"For now-" He growled and knelt, glaring down at the Minion, "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Gnarl chuckled, "What could I? I only meant that there's a rather decent sized herd of Beowolves headed towards it. I saw a little ship come in and drop off someone, but… Well, the bigger cargo ones took off with as much stone as they could carry. And upper management, of course."

"Wait, just that?" Jaune blinked, "What about the workers?"

"Still there." Gnarl shrugged, "What do you think is luring the Grimm?"

"Damn it, Gnarl…" He sighed, standing and rolling his neck until it popped. "Gather the Minions."

"What ever for…?"

"We have to save the miners." Jaune explained, thinking quickly and adding, to motivate the Minion if nothing else. "Or do you trust Minions to extract, properly shape and transport good stone, intact, all the way here? And then handle the repairs on their own? Under your lone, solitary, constant supervision?"

Gnarl blinked.

Slowly…

Then, he gasped dramatically and turned, calling out, "Come on, you oafs! There are innocent widdle workers that need saving! Hop to it, chop chop, mush and all that! Get ready for a proper fight, for once in your pitiful lives!"

It was over-played enough Jaune knew Gnarl had caught his trick, but… Well, they were moving, Minions hustling to pick up their stone and scrap tipped spears while others ran inside. In all, they'd barely have fifty Minions to take without emptying the Tower - which he knew Gnarl wouldn't do - but he had to hope that they'd be enough.

They had to try, at least…

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