So it is done

Among the battlefield

Having a clear head in battle was essential, in fact it's the only thing keeping you from just dropping dead. If you don't know what your opponent will do in battle, you are essentially defenceless, and if you don't know what you are going to do with your next move, you will do nothing but die.

If you don't know how you plan to reach your goal, you've already lost.

Summer Rose learned these common truths a long time ago, back when she was still a student in Signal, when she got conked in the head while sparring. First against her teacher, who was not, of course, actually fighting back, then in training fights with her peers, then against Grimm. Further, nailed into her head in Beacon, first under the supervision of the teacher, then on her own along with her team, and then finally in the field.

Summer Rose had learned the proverbial truths of combat all too well... sadly no matter how hard it was told and taught to her, it didn't stick, Summer Rose was always a little different from many other hunters.

In battle, she didn't think.

Or rather, she didn't think deliberately. She didn't calculate what her opponent would do or find the right counterattack in her mind. No, for Summer Rose, fighting was simply fighting.

That is not to say that her intelligence level fell to the level of the beast, or perhaps it did, as she simply delved into her basic instincts.

What many hunters pondered in combat sensibly, Summer was aware of reflexively.

Like a wild animal on the hunt, she was subordinate not to reason – but to instinct.

And her instincts told her one thing.

ATTACK!

And Summer was only too happy to obey them.

The blade was both her weapon and an extension of her hand, like the claws of a wild beast it had become an integral part of her, its fangs hungry for her enemy's blood.

And Summer was hungry.

Jonathan slowly screwed down the cap of his cane, then closed his eyes.

There you have it, one less secret. He had shown his ability to create a doomsday weapon out of the materials he has at hand, and a couple of dust containers.

It was impossible not to notice such devastation. Jonathan wouldn't be surprised if some observatory on the other side of Remnant noticed his actions, nor would he be surprised that right now Ozpin was urgently convening a committee to evaluate his danger rating, or something similar, making adjustments to his plans with this revelation. Or maybe he had already started getting rid of old plans and creating new ones? One never knows with chess masters like Ozpin.

Still, at the moment there was no one around Jonathan as he sat on top of a small rocky cliff, watching from afar the rumble of artillery and even more rarely the shouts of Grimm. Other than that, it was almost serene, so he could afford to sit down on a rock, looking into the distance.

So Ozpin had outplayed him after all... No, it would have been naive to think that Jonathan could beat the old schemer at his game, at the first attempt at that and without a plan for such... Still, he was now faced with a serious choice, one that would decide all of his future actions.

With Ozpin - or against him.

Jonathan, in general, didn't want to go up against Ozpin, therefore if indirectly, supporting Salem, he didn't see any meaning in it.