Hi guys, Rosesaiyan2 here again! Back with a new story. So.. this idea had been floating around in the back of my brain for awhile. I kept putting it off, but I figured why not make it into a story? There will be elements of Saint seiya and fairy tail in this story but I don't believe any of the characters from either series will appear in this story.
The exception to this rule would be possibly the Gold Saints from the Saint Seiya Omega universe, but I'm not entirely sure about that just yet. There are demons in this story, but the higher ranking ones won't be appearing until a bit later in the story. So if you recognize a spin off of a signature attack from one of the Saint seiya characters, know that I'm taking some inspiration from Saint seiya.
The portion of Saint Seiya I'll be using is from the Saint Seiya Omega universe, and from Fairy tail... around the Tartaros arc. That's just for reference. Like my other stories, this one is oc heavy. There will be alot of oc's in this story, just as a forewarning.
P.S.- I don't own Saint Seiya, Fairy Tail, or Rwby and the characters. The aforementioned series belong to their respective creators. I only own the oc's who appear in this story.
Chapter 1: Plan to Eliminate Salem?; Judgement of an Empress
The Judgement of an Empress
West of Vale, beyond the waters that swallow the horizon,
there exists a nation that the world has not yet learned to fear.
It is only a matter of time.
The City of Shura — Island of Kratos, Guerrin Republic
To the west of Vale, past the vast grey expanse of the ocean, there lies an archipelago that most scholars in Remnant have written off as a footnote — a cluster of warring island nations collectively known as the Republic of Guerrin. To the uninformed eye, it is a land of perpetual conflict, its soil stained by old feuds and the ceaseless march of ambition. Yet it is here, on the island of Kratos, in the fortress-city of Shura, that the thread of a far greater story quietly begins to unspool.
The throne room of the Valren Imperial Palace was a cathedral of deliberate silence. Pale light filtered through stained-glass panels depicting ancient battles against creatures of darkness, casting fractured color across floors of dark polished stone. The air carried the faint sweetness of incense — something ceremonial, something old. It was the kind of room that made even powerful people feel small.
Two figures knelt at its center.
The first was a man whose very presence seemed to compress the air around him. Derek Dragonblade wore armor fashioned in the image of a Black Dragon — deep obsidian plates etched with serpentine reliefs, each scale painstakingly rendered by some long-dead craftsman. His dark tresses fell loosely past his collar, and his gold eyes, even cast downward in deference, held the quiet intensity of a predator at rest. He was not a man who knelt easily. That he did so now said everything about the woman before him.
Beside him, Katsura Dragonblade — his wife, his equal in most things — wore armor the color of embers: deep scarlet worked with the image of a Red Dragon coiled across the breastplate. Her crimson hair was bound back, and her amber eyes were steady, betraying nothing. She had the stillness of someone who had long since made peace with the weight of duty.
Standing a half-step behind them was Reynar Tokyoheim, an old friend and a fellow hunter of things that should not exist. His emerald-green armor carried the aesthetic of the eastern warlords — samurai-like in its plating, lacquered to a mirror finish. He wore a short beard and regarded the woman on the throne with the easy confidence of someone who had known her long enough to be unafraid of her.
The woman on the throne was Emeryll Valharen II — the thirty-first Empress of Valren, and the youngest sovereign the empire had seen in three centuries.
She did not look like an empress at first glance. She looked like a young woman sitting very still, thinking very hard. Her armor — deep crimson and black, layered with ceremonial significance — was at odds with the softness of her features: blonde hair threaded with streaks of black, slightly tanned skin, and eyes the pale green of new leaves. Her staff rested across her lap. On her face was an expression of measured calm that she had clearly spent years learning to wear.
The silence stretched. Then she spoke.
"Please — rise."
Her voice was low and unhurried, carrying the peculiar warmth of someone who genuinely meant it. The three before her stood.
Emeryll rose from her throne with the ease of someone who had long stopped thinking about the weight of the crown. She descended the dais steps slowly, staff clicking softly against the stone, and came to stand before them as though proximity might communicate what words could not.
"Black Dragon Lord. Crimson Maiden." Her gaze moved between Derek and Katsura with something that was almost affection. "I have a task that requires your particular gifts."
"Command us," Derek said simply.
Katsura inclined her head. "What would you have of us, milady?"
Emeryll's gaze shifted — not away from them, but inward, toward some calculation running behind her eyes. "The demons are not the immediate concern. Not yet. Their movements are predictable, their timetable still distant enough to manage." She paused. "It is their ally that troubles me. The one who has been dismantling everything we build before we can build it. Salem."
Reynar stepped forward, arms folded. "Then our enemy is Salem."
"Yes." The word landed without ceremony. "She has impeded us at every turn. Her reach extends further than most realize, and her continued existence poses a threat — not merely to Valren, but to anyone who shares this world with us." Emeryll's voice did not harden; it simply became more precise. "She must be dealt with. Now, while the window exists."
Derek exchanged a glance with his wife. "You said three of us, Empress. That implies—"
"Reynar will accompany you, yes." Emeryll offered the faintest smile. "And you will not go alone. I can spare one soldier. I believe you will find the choice... acceptable."
The doors at the far end of the hall opened without announcement.
The woman who entered moved with the quiet certainty of someone who had learned long ago that presence was worth more than noise. She was tall, sharp-featured, and arresting — long black hair falling past her shoulders, red eyes that caught the light like embers in dark water. Her armor was white, pristine, and bore the unmistakable marks of her heritage: a pair of horns that curved gracefully to frame her face, and the subtle shift of a tail behind her. She was Yin Lang, demon-hunter, warrior — and Reynar Tokyoheim's wife.
Reynar blinked once. Then a slow, helpless smile broke across his face.
"This will suffice?" Emeryll asked.
"More than, milady." He crossed the distance between them in three strides, and Yin Lang stepped into his embrace without a word, as though the reunion were simply a matter of gravity.
Emeryll watched them for a moment, something unreadable in her expression — perhaps old memory, perhaps longing — before she continued.
"There is one further matter. You will not be entering Vale unguided. My elder sister has been stationed there for some time now. She will instruct you upon arrival and ensure your integration into Vale's infrastructure goes smoothly." A slight pause. "She can be... exasperating. But she is competent beyond measure, and she is family. Trust her as you would trust me."
Katsura's brow arched with polite curiosity. "May we know her name, Your Excellency?"
From the periphery, one of the Empress's personal guard — a heavyset knight with a silver beard and the bearing of a man who had argued with kings — began to draw breath. Emeryll silenced him with a look.
"Siegfried."
The knight — Siegfried, Knight-Commander of the Imperial Guard — relented with the grace of long practice. "As you wish, Empress."
She returned her attention to Katsura. "Her name is Glynda. She is my cousin by blood — I call her sister out of love. If she questions your presence in Vale, speak my name. She will understand."
"Understood," Katsura replied.
"We will depart at the earliest opportunity," Reynar added.
Emeryll nodded once and returned to her throne — not retreating, but reclaiming her position, the way a chess piece settles back to the center of the board.
"One last instruction." She surveyed them all, and something in her bearing sharpened, like a blade drawn from its sheath. "Your presence in Vale must not betray your purpose. Salem has eyes in unexpected places, and Atlas is... watchful in its own way. To mask your intent, you will be formally integrated into Beacon Academy. Derek, Katsura — you as combat instructors. Reynar, Yin Lang — as faculty. You will be visible. You will be credible. And in being so, you will be invisible to those who would move against us before we are ready."
A beat passed.
"Your presence in Vale will be our message to Salem — not announced, not declared. Simply felt. Like the moment before a storm."
The four bowed their heads in unison and turned to leave. Their footsteps echoed down the long corridor, growing quieter, then gone.
◆ ◆ ◆
A Call Across the Ocean
Alone with her knight-commander and the silence of the throne room, Empress Emeryll allowed herself one moment of stillness. Then she straightened.
"Siegfried. Open a direct line to the Headmaster of Beacon Academy. And a secondary line to Sanctuary. They will want to know that their allies are moving."
Siegfried drew his blade — a weapon of strange and deliberate design — and drove it into the pedestal to his left. The stone hummed. The air shimmered. A luminous screen bloomed into existence before the throne like a window opened onto another room entirely.
In his office at Beacon, the gray-haired headmaster was already turning when the screen appeared. Professor Ozpin regarded it with the mild, unreadable expression he reserved for things that surprised him — which were, increasingly, fewer and fewer.
"My, my." He set down his coffee mug with care. "To what do I owe this unexpected honor, Empress Emeryll?"
The Empress's lips curved — not quite amusement, not quite warmth, but something that lived in the narrow country between the two. "Still the same as ever, teacher. Straight to pleasantries before the point."
"And you," Ozpin replied, "seem to have a point you are quite eager to reach."
"I have always admired that about you." She folded her hands in her lap. "I am calling to tell you that within the next several days, Beacon will receive something it has been waiting for, whether it knew it or not — the means to end Salem."
The word landed in the space between them like a stone dropped into still water. The ripples in Ozpin's expression were small and quickly mastered, but they were there.
"I do not mean to sound ungrateful," he said carefully, "but are you... certain?"
"I understand the skepticism. Every method attempted against her has failed. Every weapon, every stratagem, every hope." Emeryll's voice did not waver. "But Salem has never encountered individuals whose entire existence is devoted to the extermination of beings like her. Demon hunters, Ozpin. Not soldiers. Not huntsmen in the conventional sense. Something older than both." She held his gaze through the screen. "And they are, all of them, beyond what you would consider merely human. They are what humans become when they have spent lifetimes fighting what most people refuse to believe exists."
Ozpin was quiet for a moment. A careful man's quiet. "They will be an asset against the Grimm as well, I presume."
"In time. But I suspect their children will find their way to Beacon before long — perhaps not as instructors. Perhaps as students." A slight tilt of her head. "Inform your allies. Let it be known that the Valren Empire is moving. That we intend to destroy Salem and dismantle what she has built. Quietly, for now. But moving."
"I will do so." Ozpin paused. "Atlas may not receive that news warmly."
"Atlas will need to manage its anxieties in private." Emeryll's voice did not sharpen, but it did not soften either. "Valren has no quarrel with Atlas. But if General Ironwood mistakes caution for weakness and moves against our people before we have the chance to address the larger threat, he will find that assumption... costly. We have no interest in two great nations tearing each other apart while Salem watches. Make that clear to him, will you?"
"Plainly put," Ozpin said. "I will."
"One more thing." Something shifted in Emeryll's eyes — not coldness, but the particular ache of an old wound reopened. "Be certain my sister hears of this. She will need to prepare. And I imagine... someone else will be there as well. Someone I once called a friend."
Ozpin studied her face through the screen. "A former friend?"
"Only a hunch." The Empress dismissed it with the practiced ease of someone who had long since decided not to pursue that particular thread. "Tell Glynda. She will know what to do."
"Then I look forward to your associates' arrival," Ozpin said, with a small bow of his head. "Thank you, Empress Emeryll."
"Until we meet again, Professor."
The screen faded. The room was quiet again.
Siegfried watched his Empress from the corner of his eye — the set of her jaw, the distant focus of her gaze — and said nothing. There were things the Empress carried that no knight could shoulder for her. He had learned, over long years, not to try.
At her nod, he moved to open the second line. Sanctuary awaited.
◆ ◆ ◆
Departure — Aboard the Bullhead to Vale
The military transport cut a steady course above the open ocean, its engines a low, constant thrum beneath the floorboards. Through the wide viewports, the water below was the color of hammered pewter under an overcast sky — vast, indifferent, and deeply beautiful in the way of things that have never needed a witness.
The Dragonblade family occupied one half of the passenger compartment. Derek sat with his back against the hull, arms folded, gold eyes half-lidded in the way of a man who appears to be resting but is, in fact, cataloguing every sound and shadow in his vicinity. Katsura sat beside him, close enough for their shoulders to touch, a map of Vale's eastern quadrant spread across her knees.
Their children were arranged in the seats across from them in the loose, comfortable disorder of young people at rest. Maxwell — Max, as he had insisted since he was old enough to insist on anything — was the eldest, dark-haired and gold-eyed like his father, with the quiet self-possession of someone who had grown up in the shadow of extraordinary people and decided, very early, to become extraordinary himself. Mist sat beside him, legs tucked beneath her, watching the water with the unfocused gaze of someone lost in a private thought. And then there was Kouga — the youngest, adopted seventeen years ago from a grief and a doorstep and a night that none of them spoke about in detail. He had his mother's warmth and his father's habit of watching everything at once.
Across the aisle, Reynar and Yin Lang sat with their own children: Honoo and Shoryu, both carrying their father's dark complexion and their mother's horns and tail with the easy confidence of young people who had never known what it meant to be ordinary. They were arguing amiably about something — the relative merits of two fighting styles, from what could be gathered — and Yin Lang was pretending not to listen while obviously listening.
Kouga leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"Where exactly are we going?"
The question was directed at his parents, but it landed in the whole compartment like a pebble dropped into a pool. The older generation exchanged looks — brief, practiced, the shorthand of people who had been partners long enough to communicate in glances.
Katsura set down the map. "I'm glad you asked, Kou."
Derek straightened. He looked around at all five of them — his children, Reynar's children, the next generation of something he could not yet name — and measured his words before he released them.
"The Empress has given us a task. A critical one. But we cannot pursue it openly — not yet. Our enemy is watchful, and we cannot afford to show our hand before we are ready to play it."
"The enemy being Salem," Max said. Not a question.
"Among others," Derek replied evenly. "The Grimm are her instrument. She is the hand."
Katsura took over with the smooth ease of someone accustomed to filling in her husband's gaps. "Your training has been rigorous. All five of you. But training against what we know, in the world we know — that has its limits. There are things you can only learn by being placed in the company of people who approach the same problems differently. New perspectives. New methods."
Yin Lang's voice came from across the aisle, gently. "And there are things that no amount of training can teach. Things that only come from the ties you build with people who become important to you." She glanced at Honoo, who had gone still and attentive. "Friendships made in places like this — they last a lifetime. Sometimes longer."
Derek nodded slowly. "They also make you stronger. In ways you cannot anticipate. In ways that have nothing to do with technique."
Honoo frowned thoughtfully. "So where are we going, specifically?"
Katsura allowed herself the quiet satisfaction of the reveal. "Beacon Academy. The foremost institution in Remnant for the training of Huntsmen and Huntresses. It is not the same kind of school you have known — the methods are different, the philosophy is different. But the purpose is the same: to make warriors capable of protecting this world."
"And we'll be students there?" Shoryu asked.
"The five of you will, yes." Reynar leaned forward, something warm and wry in his expression. "While your parents make the most convincing instructors they can manage."
That earned a small laugh from the compartment — the involuntary kind, which is always the best kind.
The bullhead banked gently, and through the viewport, the distant shore of Vale came into view: a city made of light and towers, green hills spilling down to a harbor, and above it all, suspended on its clifftop like a crown that had fallen and somehow landed perfectly, the pale spires of Beacon Academy.
Katsura studied it with quiet appraisal. "So this is Vale."
"Apparently." Derek looked at the city for a long moment, then let out a slow breath. "Hiding who we are won't be simple."
"When has it ever been?" She folded the map.
They descended.
The gears of the Valren Empire's long design had begun to turn. No proclamation had been made. No banner had been raised. But in the quiet arrival of four warriors and five young people on a Bullhead landing pad in the kingdom of Vale, something irrevocable had begun — a message written not in words, but in presence. In proximity. In the gathering of the right people in the right place at what might yet prove to be exactly the right time.
Salem would be found. Salem would be faced.
Whether she was ready for it or not.
End of Chapter One
Coming Next —
Chapter Two: Ruby Rose and the Day of Initiation
Opening: Burn (Tales of Berseria)
Visuals: main cast of this story which will be introduced in chapter 2
Ending song: Demon Slayer season 2 ending 1
Visuals: main cast of this story which is introduced in chapter 2
Hey guys hopefully you enjoyed this 1st chapter of the new crossover. If you couldn't tell based on the description of Yin Lang, yes she's a faunus. Also, I thought Glynda having a cousin in this story my create an interesting dynamic that hasn't been explored yet. As you can tell, unlike in the cannon version of the RWBY story, Salem isn't immortal in this story.. she can be killed!
It's just extremely difficult for normal characters to kill a being like Salem in this story. But don't worry I still won't make it easy for those in this story to defeat and kill her. In every rwby fanfic I've read General Ironwood ultimately ends up becoming a jerk or he's just a jerkface from the beginning. He's a good character, but he becomes corrupted by his own decisions. This version of General Ironwood, won't be that way. I plan on him not being a jerk. He may butt heads with the ideals of some characters in this story, but he won't be a total jerk.
Anyways in case you're wondering below are all of the possible and eventual pairings for this story, please vote later on which ones you think will work.
For Ruby:
Maxwell x Ruby
Kazuma x Ruby
Kouga x Ruby
Shoryu x Ruby
For Yang:
Max/Yang
Kazuma/Yang
Kouga/Yang
Shoryu/Yang
Toshirou/Yang
For Weiss:
Kazuma x Weiss
Kouga x Weiss
Maxwell x Weiss
Shoryu x Weiss
Toshirou x Weiss
For Blake:
Max/Blake
Shoryu/Blake
Kazuma/Blake
Tohirou/Blake
Sun/Blake
Kouga/Blake
For Honoo:
Honoo x Yatsuhashi
Honoo x Mercury
Honoo x Fox
Honoo x Jaune?
For Mist:
Mist x Oscar
Mist x Mercury
Mist x jaune?
Those are just some of the possible pairings I've thought of. Again vote on them later in the story. Anyways, hopefully you guys enjoyed! Until next time, gentleman and ladies!