Chương 127: Chapter 120: The Savior of Mantle

The morning after the chaotic election, the sterile, imposing office of Atlas Academy felt like the epicenter of a hurricane. General James Ironwood sat heavily behind his expansive steel desk. He was hunched forward, his massive hands rubbing his temples as if trying to physically crush a migraine. Scattered across his pristine desk were dozens of glowing, holographic incident reports, medical dispatches, and urgent security updates from the lower city. The heavy, reinforced doors hissed open.

Winter Schnee, Qrow Branwen, and Oscar Pine stepped into the office. The ancient, calculating presence of Ozpin radiated from the young farm boy's hazel eyes.

"How are you holding up, James?" Ozpin asked gently, leaning his hands upon the brass gears of his cane.

"You look terrible," Qrow noted dryly, taking a slow swig from his silver flask. Ironwood let out a long, shuddering sigh, leaning back in his leather chair.

"I am trying to figure out what to do after what has been occurred last night.

""We understand the stress, General," Winter offered, stepping forward with her usual rigid professionalism, though a faint, highly sympathetic wince touched her features.

"But we must look at the undeniable positives. The serial killer terrorizing Mantle has been arrested, entirely neutralizing the immediate threat to the civilian populace and our personnel."

"I am incredibly grateful for that," Ironwood admitted, his cybernetic eye whirring softly as he looked at the primary incident report.

"And I am grateful that Mr. Saitama was there to physically dismember him before he could reach Robyn Hill. However... keeping the public completely oblivious to the anomaly's true identity while he is paraded across every news network in the Kingdom is proving to be a logistical nightmare." Before the group could strategize a media blackout, a sharp, crystalline chime echoed from Ironwood's primary terminal. The harsh red indicator light on his console flipped to a steady, vibrant green.

Ironwood's eyes widened slightly. He tapped the console, pulling up the kingdom-wide network diagnostics.

"The subterranean cyber-hubs. The tech units have successfully finished the reboot. The connection to the outside world has just come back online." A collective, massive sigh of relief washed over the office.

"Finally," Qrow muttered, capping his flask.

"We aren't flying blind anymore."

"Initiating secure cross-continental frequencies now," Ironwood stated, his fingers flying across the holographic keyboard. Two massive, translucent blue screens materialized in the center of the office. On the left screen, the strict, impeccably maintained office of Beacon Academy appeared. Headmistress Glynda Goodwitch sat behind her desk, her riding crop resting nearby, looking profoundly relieved. On the right screen, the sun-baked, sandstone office of Shade Academy materialized.

Headmaster Theodore, a towering man with a boisterous presence, leaned forward enthusiastically. Standing right beside him, adjusting her spectacles with a sharp, analytical gaze, was his right-hand woman, Xanthe Rumpole.

"James! Ozpin! Qrow!" Glynda breathed, the rigid tension leaving her shoulders.

"Thank the Gods! We have been trying to hail Atlas for days! What happened up there?!"

"It is damn good to see your faces," Theodore grinned widely, crossing his massive arms.

"We thought the cold finally got to you!"

"It is a long, complicated story, my friends," Ozpin began smoothly. He proceeded to quickly brief the rest of the Inner Circle on the severed connection, explaining the localized sabotage and the subsequent blackout.

"However, the network was successfully restored thanks to a joint-mission conducted by Team RWBY, Qrow, the Ace-Ops... and Penny." Glynda's green eyes widened in profound, genuine shock.

"Penny? Penny Polendina? But I thought..."

"She has been fully rebuilt, Headmistress," Winter confirmed with a small, respectful smile.

"And she is fully operational."

"That is wonderful news," Glynda smiled, the warmth of a worried mother breaking through her strict exterior. She leaned closer to the screen.

"And the students? How are Team RWBY and Team JNPR holding up in that environment?"

"They are doing phenomenally well," Qrow grinned, a deep, undeniable pride swelling in his chest.

"They're helping Jimmy calm the riots down in Mantle. You wouldn't believe how much they've grown, Glynda. They held their own against an ancient Leviathan in Argus. And yesterday, Team RWBY cleared an entire subterranean cyber-hub alongside the Ace-Ops."

"And that isn't even the most remarkable development," Ozpin added softly, his hazel eyes shining.

"During the Leviathan attack, when all hope seemed lost... Miss Rose fully awakened the power of her Silver Eyes." On the screens, Theodore and Rumpole gasped in absolute shock.

"A Silver-Eyed Warrior in our group?" Rumpole murmured, her analytical mind racing.

"I haven't seen one of those in decades. That is a game-changer."

"So that explains the Leviathan's petrified state that was seen on the news," Theodore added, rubbing his chin.

"Before the... Silver giant of light arrived."

"Yeah, well... That was actually our baldy in illusion. Just like the giant super robot in Mistral," Qrow confirmed.

"Oh, and it's not just the Leviathan. During our joint-mission, we encountered Apathy, many of them. Then Ruby petrified the entire horde. Saved all our lives."

"Incredible," Glynda whispered, a soft, immensely proud smile touching her lips.

"I always knew Ruby had a tremendous light within her."

"And you don't need to worry about the Lamp," Winter continued confidently.

"It is safe. Beyond safe, even. And the Winter Maiden is under our care." Glynda, Theodore, and Rumpole blinked in surprise, their eyes darting to the General.

"You told the Specialist about the Relic and the Maidens?" Rumpole asked, arching a highly intrigued eyebrow.

"I did," Ironwood confirmed without hesitation.

"It was the best decision James could have made," Ozpin assured the group smoothly.

"Winter has proven her loyalty and capability time and time again. In a war of shadows, we need operatives who understand the true stakes. She deserved to know." Glynda and Theodore exchanged a quick, approving nod.

"It makes tactical sense," Glynda stated firmly, smiling toward Winter.

"And I believe in Winter too." Winter smiled back to Glynda.

"Thank you, Headmistress."

"So..." Theodore asked in curious.

"You said the Lamp is beyond safe. Where exactly did you store it? It can't be in the same vault as the Relic of Creation, right?"

"No, it's not," Ozpin answered, smiling confidently.

"It is currently locked in an impenetrable, utterly untraceable location. Somewhere that is... unexpected." Glynda, Theodore and Rumpole stared to Ozpin in silence, wondering about the relic's hiding place that Ozpin was talking about.

"Alright... I guess we can talk more about it later," Glynda said, keeping her questions for other time.

"What is our next move?"

"All we need to do now is focus on keeping the Winter Maiden safe from Salem's forces," Ozpin answered.

"They are undoubtedly still lingering somewhere within Atlas, manipulating the chaos between the floating city and Mantle below. We cannot let our guard down." As the briefing concluded, the three remote leaders noticed something off. Despite the network restoration, the captured serial killer, and the secure Relic, General Ironwood was still sitting with his head resting heavily in his hands, looking like he was about to physically implode from stress.

"By the way, James," Theodore frowned.

"You look like you're chewing on rocks. What happened?"

"I am fine," Ironwood groaned unconvincingly, rubbing his temples.

"I am merely... processing the sheer, unapologetic absurdity of the events that transpired in Mantle last night." The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Qrow let out a raspy, awkward chuckle, shifting his weight.

"Yeah, well, Jimmy's been wound pretty tight since we got here. He finally relaxed for a few hours after we cleared the cyber-hubs, but then... the victory rally happened." Glynda Goodwitch's expression instantly flatlined. She slowly lowered her head, resting her chin on her steepled fingers. She closed her eyes, letting out a long, agonizing, deeply traumatized sigh.

"Let me guess," Glynda muttered, her voice dropping into a deadly, exhausted whisper.

"It must have something to do with the bald menace." Winter sighed in profound bafflement, crossing her arms and offering a single, confirming nod.

"Oh, no," Rumpole gasped, her eyes widening.

"Did he destroy something?!" Theodore asked frantically, leaning into the camera.

"Did his cover get blown?!"

"No, no, his cover is perfectly intact," Ozpin smiled, attempting to soothe the panic.

"In fact, Mr. Saitama's actions last night were remarkably beneficial. During a localized blackout at the political rally, he inadvertently intercepted and captured a serial killer who had been terrorizing Mantle for weeks. And turns out, he is one of Salem's agents."

"Thank the Gods," Glynda let out a massive breath of relief, slumping back in her chair.

"As long as his true identity remains hidden, and he isn't attracting the public's eye in Atlas, it's fine. My hands are completely full covering for Darwin down here in Vale. If the world realizes there are two anomalies running around, the panic will be uncontrollable." Ironwood groaned again, a sound of pure, administrative suffering. Winter, Qrow, and Ozpin exchanged highly awkward, deeply pained expressions.

Qrow scratched the back of his neck, completely refusing to make eye contact with the Headmistress on the screen.

"Well..." Qrow started, his voice cracking slightly.

"About that..."

"Breaking News from the upper echelons of Atlas!" The news is broadcasted by the blaring, high-definition graphics of the Atlas Broadcast Network. The polished news anchor announced cheerfully.

"In a historic, incredibly tense election that kept the entire Kingdom on the edge of its seat, the final polls have officially closed!" The screen displayed the final, verified holographic poll numbers. Jacques Schnee: 53% Robyn Hill: 47%"Jacques Schnee has officially secured the vacant seat on the Atlas Council!" The broadcast cut to live footage of the newly elected Councilman standing triumphantly at a massive podium in front of the opulent gates of Schnee Manor.

The morning sun gleamed off his pristine white tailcoat.

"Oho, thank you, everyone, thank you!" Jacques gloated, a sickeningly smug, victorious sneer stretching across his face as he waved to the flashing cameras.

"It's all because of you! It's a new day in Atlas! We've won! We did it!" The broadcast seamlessly transitioned, the ABN logo spinning away to reveal the gritty, on-the-ground reporting of the Mantle Daily.

"And in a stunning, related development from the lower city," the Mantle newscaster reported, his voice thick with sheer disbelief,"the reign of terror that has gripped our streets is finally over! The Mantle serial killer has been captured!" The screen flashed a terrifying, high-definition mugshot of a scarred, wide-eyed Faunus.

"The killer has been identified as Tyrian Callows, a highly dangerous scorpion Faunus and a wanted criminal from Anima. Callows was presumed dead two years ago when the airship transporting him to Atlas, following his capture by a coalition of Mistral and Atlas officers, led by the renowned Mistral Huntsman, Pickerel, was reportedly destroyed by a massive Grimm swarm." The footage cut to chaotic, shaky, on-the-ground video from the Mantle central plaza.

It showed Tyrian Callows, his face bruised and contorted in absolute agony, being strapped tightly to a heavy medical gurney by a team of heavily armed Atlesian medics. The lower half of his spine was heavily bandaged, and he was screaming incoherently as he was loaded into a heavily armored military transport.

"In a horrifying twist of fate," the newscaster continued,"Callows attempted to assassinate political candidate Robyn Hill during her victory rally last night. He initiated a localized blackout, severely injuring several citizens with his highly toxic venom. Fortunately, there were no casualties, as an elite Atlas medical team arrived just in time to administer the antivenom, heavily assisted by local Huntsmen and the Happy Huntresses."

The screen cut to a new, highly dramatic angle of the plaza, recorded on a civilian's Scroll right as the power grid surged back online.

"However, the true story of the night belongs to the man who single-handedly stopped the massacre... an unknown Huntsman in a bowler hat." The footage played. It showed the chaotic, screaming aftermath of the blackout. The camera panned unsteadily, finally focusing on the dead center of the plaza. Lying in a massive pool of his own blood, screaming and thrashing in sheer, crippling agony, was Tyrian Callows. Standing directly over him, bathed in the sudden, harsh glare of the restored floodlights, was Saitama.

He was fully dressed in his black suit, white trench coat, and Roman Torchwick's bowler hat. He was comically blinking, looking completely clueless and entirely unimpressed by the bleeding psychopath at his feet. In his right, red-gloved hand, he was casually holding Tyrian's massive, severed, dripping scorpion tail.

"The huntsman has been officially identified by military sources as 'Darwin,' a highly decorated, veteran Atlesian Huntsman operating undercover," the newscaster explained breathlessly.

"Following the capture, Mr. Darwin was immediately escorted back to the upper city by an elite military detail, preventing the grateful citizens of Mantle, and Robyn Hill herself, from properly thanking him." The screen cut to a montage of tearful, cheering Mantle citizens being interviewed on the street.

"He saved us!" a woman cried, clutching her hands to her chest.

"He just stood there in the dark and ripped that monster apart!"

"Ironwood couldn't catch the killer, but that guy did! With his bare hands!" Forest shouted into the camera, pumping his fist into the air while his wounds is being treated by a medical team.

"He's the Savior of Mantle!" The broadcast ended with a massive, stylized freeze-frame of Saitama holding the severed tail, boldly captioned with glittering letters: DARWIN: THE SAVIOR OF MANTLE!

Saitama's expression was a masterpiece of pure, comical, unadulterated annoyance. His left eye was twitching violently. Saitama was lazily trudging down the pristine, sunlit sidewalk of a high-end commercial district in Atlas, holding a plastic grocery bag filled with discounted radishes. Surrounding him, completely blocking the street in every single direction, was a massive, deafening, claustrophobic swarm of journalists, cameramen, and reporters from the Atlas Broadcast Network and the Mantle Daily.

"Mr. Darwin! Over here! A word for the Daily!"

"Mr. Darwin! How did you track the killer in the dark?!"

"Savior of Mantle! Are you currently accepting sponsorships?!" Saitama groaned, keeping his head down as camera flashes strobed blindingly in his face. Walking right beside him, equally annoyed and highly stressed, was Neopolitan. She was utilizing her Overactive Imagination Semblance, projecting a localized illusion over her own face to make herself look like a mundane, brown-haired civilian. With the global network back online, she couldn't risk her notorious criminal visage being broadcast across Remnant.

However, she hadn't gotten the chance to cast an illusion over Saitama. The media swarm had ambushed them the literal second they stepped out of the Schnee-sponsored penthouse that morning. Saitama had already been wearing his black suit, white coat, and bowler hat. The cameras had instantly recognized "Darwin." Now, all Neo could do was desperately hold her open parasol between Saitama's face and the closest camera lenses, aggressively shoving reporters away with the tip of the umbrella.

Forming a desperate, highly overwhelmed defensive perimeter around the two anomalies were Ruby, Yang, Blake, Weiss, Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, Ren, and Ciel.

"Back up! Give him some space!" Yang roared, her lilac eyes flashing red as she physically shoved a massive news camera away from Saitama's face.

"No interviews today!" Weiss commanded, utilizing her aristocratic authority to push past a group of ABN anchors.

"This is incredibly frustrating," Blake muttered, her feline ears pinned flat against her skull to block out the shouting reporters. Ciel Soleil remained at the front of the pack, her expression a mask of absolute, unyielding military discipline.

"Clear the path! Interference with a classified Atlesian operative is a federal offense! Disperse immediately!"

"How did it come to this?" Saitama whined comically, slouching heavily as he walked.

"I just wanted to buy some cheap radishes. Why is everyone screaming at me?!"

"Because you ripped a serial killer's tail off in front of a thousand people!" Jaune hissed frantically over his shoulder, sweating profusely as he tried to block a microphone.

"I was just trying to eat my beef!" Saitama argued stubbornly. Yang turns to Saitama for a moment in unadulterated bafflement.

"Seriously, Saitama? You left the city just for... free food?!"

"Unbelievable!" Weiss continued, rolling her eyes in failing to comprehend Saitama's absurdity.

"You could've just asked us!" Ruby and Pyrrha exchanged a long, deeply exhausted sigh, entirely defeated by Saitama's flawless ability to accidentally attract global attention while trying to run basic errands. Nora, on the other hand, was having the time of her life.

"Make way for the Savior of Mantle!" Nora cheered loudly, completely leaning into the comedic chaos as she helped Ciel shove the reporters back.

"No autographs! He only accepts premium coupons!" Saitama let out a massive, soul-crushing sigh.

"This is exactly like what happened in Vale," Saitama complained miserably, dodging another microphone.

"Except here, I have to wear this stupid hat so nobody realizes I'm the bald guy from the other city. Being famous is terrible." Suddenly, the roar of a high-powered Atlesian turbine engine drowned out the shouting reporters. A brilliant streak of emerald light parted the crowd. Penny Polendina descended from the sky, her thrusters humming fiercely as she landed directly in front of the Vanguard.

"Citizens! Please clear the area!" Penny announced cheerfully, her synthetic voice amplified to command attention.

"The hero requires a clear trajectory!" The heavy, armored doors of the descending Manta airship hissed open as it hovered just inches above the street. Clover Ebi and Marrow Amin stepped out onto the ramp. Clover offered a charismatic, incredibly playful grin as he looked down at the frustrated, grocery-holding anomaly.

"Well, well. Look who it is! The 'Sheriff' has now become the 'Savior of Mantle'!" Clover greeted, chuckling smoothly.

"You truly are full of surprises, Mr.

'Darwin'!" Marrow stood behind him, dragging a hand down his face in pure, unadulterated exasperation regarding the absurd, layered false identities they were forced to maintain. Penny, however, just smiled brightly, entirely thrilled by the hero's rising popularity. Saitama glared up at the Ace-Ops leader.

"Why do I always get a weird new title every time I visit a new city? Can't I just be 'Guy Who Wants to Go Home'?"

"Get on the ship, Savior," Clover smiled, gesturing to the cabin.

"General Ironwood and the others are waiting for you at the Academy." Saitama comically groaned, his shoulders dropping to his waist.

"Oh, great. Now I have to listen to a thousand political words I don't understand, while the robot-arm guy yells about embargoes."

"That is not true, Mr. Sa--" Penny started, quickly correcting herself with a sharp gasp.

"Mr. Darwin! On the contrary, you are going to be highly rewarded for your great service to the Kingdom!" At the word 'reward', the absolute misery on Saitama's face vanished instantly. A look of pure, comical happiness bloomed across his features. His dotted eyes sparkled with the undeniable allure of capitalism. A reward? Is it a lifetime supply of premium beef coupons?! Or maybe that new video game console I saw in the Diamond District?! Saitama thought eagerly.

He cheered, his entire demeanor flipping to bright enthusiasm. His formed a wide comical smile on his face.

"Oh, great!!"

"Also," Clover added casually, grinning while checking his Scroll.

"Headmistress Glynda Goodwitch specifically requested to patch into the office screen. She wants to 'express her thanks' to you personally!" Saitama's brilliant, comical happiness immediately shattered, replaced by a portrait of absolute, heavily shaded, existential dread. He remembered the terrifying, strict, crop-wielding Headmistress who had threatened to completely delete his bank account.

"Oh, crap..."