The forests of Mistral.
A place teeming with all kinds of living beings.
It is a wild, untamed land that even the people of Mistral don't think of mapping or navigating due to the dangers lurking beneath the canopy of these woods.
This is one of the main reasons for the birth of so many bandits and other such criminals who huddle in the darkness of these woodlands.
However, humans are not the only predators in these woods, for things even darker call it home as well.
The creatures of Grimm.
These monsters that have always existed in this world as long as humanity can remember thrive in this darkness as well. The negative emotions of the humans and faunus, those who are the victims of the bandits and criminals, serve as the biggest source of attraction for these beasts of extinction.
One such creature of Grimm, with a segmented black body and three sets of legs, hovered over a ruined caravan. One that looked like it had only been attacked by Grimm a mere week or so ago.
Its mandibles clicking as it hovered aimlessly as it failed to sense any source of life nearby to activate its destructive instincts.
This state, however, would not last long.
Suddenly, it heard the noise of air parting under a projectile travelling at extreme speeds. A familiar noise to the beast.
SCREEEEEEEE!
On instinct, the beast rose higher into the air, barely dodging the projectile aimed to cripple one of its wings, and swiveled to face the direction of the attack.
But it was forced to dodge once again as another projectile flashed past it barely a fraction of a second later, shattering the trunk of a tree right behind it. The sheer force behind the projectile destroying the tree's body and spreading splinters everywhere as it collapsed with a resounding noise.
The Grimm did not get the chance to even screech once again to alert the main hive as barrage after barrage of projectiles kept coming, forcing it into a killbox it did not even know it was being led into.
But it would not go down that easily.
The beast suddenly started to weave between the tree trunks, taking advantage of the forest to avoid the attacks.
A clever trick, but a futile one that showed its lack of true intelligence.
What use was hiding behind a tree when the attacks clearly showed that they could shatter said trees with ease?
One after another, the trees fell as their trunks exploded under the sheer force of the attacks.
Although the beast did notice a certain strangeness.
Some of the projectiles would explode midair, while the others would land on target.
Unfortunately, the beast was too dumb to understand the reason for this anomaly or even care about it.
Then, it happened.
At once, five projectiles arrived from different angles and aimed all around the beast, not giving it the space to dodge or to flee behind a tree again.
First, it was its stinger. The projectile with enough power to punch through heavy vehicles shattered its lower body, completely destroying its stinger.
Then, two projectiles found their mark on its face and torso, punching through both at once.
And finally, two more projectiles destroyed its wings.
All of this happened at the same time, killing the creature before it even had the chance to comprehend what was happening.
As the Grimm's body lay dead, turning rapidly into smoke, footsteps resounded in the now dead silent forest.
It was only when the corpse fully dissolved into black smoke that the assailant revealed himself.
Standing at roughly 5 feet 2 inches, it was a boy wearing a rough travelling cloak and playing with a pebble in his hand that was glowing red hot, just like his palm.
His short, roughly cut crimson hair looked ruffled from his travel, while his cold blue eyes stared at the place where the Grimm fell and then moved onto the ruins of the caravan.
Taking out his scroll, he contacted his 'client' who picked up the call instantly.
"Yes?"
"I am at the location. There was a Lancer. A Warrior Drone."
"Hm. Dangerous?"
"Probably a very old specimen. It knew to dodge my long-range attacks and knew how to use the environment to its advantage."
"Then we can assume the Queen is even older and far more dangerous. It was a good call to send you to scout the danger level before sending in my squad."
The boy hummed at her words as he walked forward, heading for the biggest truck from the ruins that was converted into a makeshift bus.
He ignored the scent of blood, originating from the dried stains within, and the scattered, dismembered, and rotting corpses spread across the interior of the vehicle until he arrived at the only intact object in the chaos.
A Mistralian-style locker used mostly for jewelry and important items by Mistralian high society in the capital and its neighboring towns.
"I found the safe."
"The code is 2284."
The boy opened the safe easily, revealing a pile of Lien, a meager quantity of jewelry and precious objects, all of which went into the travel bag he had with him as 'spoils of war' as was his right according to the rules of his profession.
Then, he retrieved the rather thick folder of documents and an ornate pendant that had bloody fingerprints on it, just like the locker did, showing that the owner had locked it in here mere moments before his death.
"I have the pendant and the inheritance documents."
"Good. I'll tell Mrs. Yuki that we got what she commissioned us for. I will prepare your pay for you to pick up whenever you want. Did you leave behind everything aside from the jewelry?"
"Hm. You know that I follow the rules. Always."
"I know, Mr. Ruben. But I must always confirm. I am a Spider after all."
The boy hummed in affirmation again and got out of the vehicle, disappearing into the darkness of the woods again and leaving behind the ruins. Knowing that in a few days, the people from the Spiders would come here and pick it clean of everything usable. Specifically, the plentiful automotive-grade dust that is still left in the fuel tanks of the vehicles, which is far more valuable than the jewelry he took.
Something that the boy knew but did not try to steal since that was against the unofficial rules of the Mistralian underworld.
After all, the last time a mercenary tried to double-cross their client was found without his limbs and his head in a ditch outside the capital mere days later.
Silently, the boy known as Ignis Ruben disappeared into the woods, as if he were born in this very darkness and belonged there.