Here we are with another chapter. There's a bit at the bottom about the Grand Treaty since, as expected, it's become a point of contention for some. I'm not sure if it's people taking me too literally again, but – and I've said it before – what a character says or does in one of my fics is not necessarily my opinion or stance.

There's no need to get angry at me. It's fiction. This is fiction.


Beta: College Fool

Cover Art: Dishwasher1910

Book 5: Chapter 5


The town was in chaos.

We burst out of the tavern directly into it, and I was almost bowled over by a speeding horse but for Yang grabbing my shoulder and dragging me back. The soldier atop it yelled an apology, swallowed in the stampeding of hooves and the cry of distant horns. Dust kicked up at the gates, covering the courtyard in a thick, brown fog. Some of the locals of Caddin's Rest called out their support, jeering at the Mistral soldiers, while yet more – the older ones – shook their heads and refused to be drawn into it.

Pyrrha led the charge to the stables. Most of the horses had been taken but ours hadn't been touched. They'd been de-saddled, however, and with the stable hands nowhere to be seen we had to fight with our tack, throwing saddles onto the horses backs and securing straps beneath them, all while dealing with their fidgeting and stamping of hooves.

Faith was especially restless, ears flicking back and forth as she snorted angrily. Her fore hooves stomped down and dragged at the floor, clipping on concrete and pushing straw aside. "Calm, girl," I whispered, stroking her neck. I ducked under her, tightening and latching a buckle under her caparison. It didn't occur to me that she might kick me, so distracted was I. Luckily, she was distracted too.

"Don't rush off!" Yang suddenly yelled, drawing Ruby to a halt. The Reaper had finished readying her steed first and had moved towards the gates. She froze at her sister's words, wincing.

"Stick together," I ordered, catching Yang's meaning – and Ruby's intent. "We can't afford to get split up in this. Not if something happens. If you're finished, then help someone else."

Ruby nodded and hopped off her horse, hurrying over to slip under Weiss' gelding and secure the Mage's stirrups in place. Yang mouthed a thank you in my direction while I shook my head to say it wasn't necessary. I'd have missed Ruby trying to leave entirely if it wasn't for Yang.

It took less than five minutes in all to tack up; a tiny frame of time compared to how Ruby and I had done it before, with her insisting we brush down our horses and feed them ourselves. I dragged myself up onto Faith's back with one foot in the stirrup. My head brushed the thatch roof, ducking under a wooden beam as Faith shied to the side. I gripped her reins, steadying Crocea Mors – now on my hip instead of my saddlebags. "Is everyone ready?" I called.

Nora was the last to mount, shifting her war hammer awkwardly onto her lap, reins gripped over the top. It was obvious she'd have to dismount to fight but she looked determined enough. "Ready," she said, and the others all agreed. I turned my mount towards the gates and kicked my heels into her flank. Already eager, she took off at a trot, which soon turned into a canter and then a gallop.

We were the last to leave Caddin's Rest, our hoof beats echoing over the wooden bridge, pushing gawking townsfolk out of the way. Outside of the walls at last it wasn't hard to see where Mistral's army was, the pennants fluttering in the air and the blast of horns evident. In the distance, over the next hill, Vale's flags couldn't be made out in detail. They were silhouettes set against the sky. There were many of them, however. Hundreds of poles and spikes raised into the air, with flags fluttering from a quarter or more.

We galloped toward Mistral's army as it marched, hundreds of feet stamping in unison as they moved in thick formation towards some pre-designated point. They weren't going to hold the walls, that much was obvious. I didn't understand why. It would be much easier to defend, surely. As we caught up with it, Faith slowed to a trot, our party doing the same as we flanked the army but kept a good hundred metres or more between us and them.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha asked.

"I don't know what we're supposed to do," I admitted. They were looking at me to lead them again, probably because I'd taken the front and the other horses had followed.

"We're here to ensure no Grimm spawn and endanger innocent lives."

"That's going to be impossible," Ren said. "I doubt these two armies are going to shake hands and play a game of cards. Grimm are going to spawn. We can't stop that."

"Then we have to kill them," Pyrrha argued. "Caddin's Rest can close the gates, so we don't need to defend the town. But if Grimm spawn here, as they will, then all these soldiers will be at risk."

And that, against all odds, would be a bad thing. It seemed strange that she was suggesting we guard two armies so that they could fight, but it wasn't the same. If the Grimm were already here then they might have prevented the upcoming battle and that would be a good thing. But Grimm spawned via negativity and suffering. They wouldn't appear until the battle was already underway. They wouldn't stop the battle. They would just make the killing ten times worse. The wounded and the injured would be slaughtered, as would the survivors. And then, with no one to protect them, Caddin's Rest would fall as well.

That was why the Treaty had to exist. Because if it didn't and war happened as it inevitably would, then the Grimm would destroy any and all survivors. Cruel as it was, Vale would be better off under Mistral rule than Grimm subjugation.

"We need a vantage point," Ruby suddenly said. She kicked her steed into action and darted away. Yang followed, as did Weiss and Pyrrha – until we were all moving, Faith not even waiting for my instruction and instead following the herd. We galloped ahead of the army, up toward the one from Vale. Ruby turned off before we met it, however. She slowed to a trot, working her way up a tall mound of grass and dirt.

I caught up a second later, too tense to think of rebuking her. She'd found us a hill with a gentle slope downward, giving us an uninterrupted view of what looked to be the battlefield, a long and gentle meadow with a babbling creek running through it. It was an idyllic scene, for now.

"Look, over there!" Ruby pointed across the meadow, not toward either of the armies but rather a small party on the other side, by the trees. They were three in number and each mounted, taking a position similar to their own. From such a distance I couldn't make much out, but one hoisted a flag into the air – revealing a flash of black and gold.

"Heroes from Mistral," Weiss realised. "They must have followed the army from Vale, knowing a battle was about to take place."

"Do you think they're the ones who originally came from here?" Ren asked.

"Perhaps. They might have moved onto the next battle but met this army approaching. The Treaty prevents them warning their own forces, but duty would have called them to attend." The Mage gripped her reins tighter. "Even if it means protecting the army of an enemy Kingdom, it still saves lives."

"That army is going to face one of their own, after all," Pyrrha pointed out. "They're technically protecting both Vale and Mistral. As are we."

It was a good thought and something I clung onto, especially as we watched the formations prepare themselves. We weren't facilitating violence. We were just trying to make sure it didn't get worse than it had to be.

Mistral's army came to a halt before the battlefield. Rows and rows of men and women dressed in black, with bright blue pennants and flags, readied themselves and stood in strict lines. They were a good three or four hundred metres away from us but even so I could hear the clinking of armour and shields as they fidgeted. A few horses from a cavalry formation tossed their heads, riders leaning down to pat their mount's necks, and perhaps to make peace with what was to come.

The army from Vale was much the same, although somehow less ordered and more individualistic. It had stopped on a shallow hill, looking down into the field, and their flags were varied in colour and imagery, although most were set on various shades of green. Their armour, too, was more varied with leather and steel, cloth and bronze. Some was burnished to a shine while others were pitted and marked.

They stared at one another from a distance not two hundred metres apart, across a green field, with us and the other Heroes on either side like judges in some terrible sporting event. My hands tightened around Faith's reins. The mare's ears pinned back, sensing my discomfort. A saddle creaked behind me. Someone coughed. Blake murmured inaudible words under her breath, and Ren took a long, slow breath of air.

Someone broke off from the lines of black soldiers. It was a single man riding a horse, and he trotted toward the lines from Vale. It was hard to make out any detail from this distance but the man sat tall and proud, with one hand on his reins, the other his weapon. He rode to about halfway between the two armies and came to a halt. His steed, a giant charger, reared and snorted, but he controlled it expertly.

"That's General Tarkson," Pyrrha said. "It's the man Jaune and I spoke to."

"What's he doing out front?" Yang wondered.

"Maybe he wants to solve this without any bloodshed," Ruby said hopefully. "He might be trying to make a ceasefire."

"I doubt he'd have the authority, sis."

"Then maybe a truce. Or maybe they want to decide it with an honour duel. At least that would mean less death."

It was a good thought but I wasn't convinced. These armies had already readied themselves, and the one from Vale had marched goodness knows how far. They wouldn't be satisfied with leaving if someone lost a duel.

Someone came forth from the Vale army. Again on horseback, but this time too distant to make out any more details. The figure pushed his horse forward, but stopped barely twenty metres before his own forces. My eyes narrowed. The commander raised a hand, and then brought it down. A volley of arrows was loosed – all hurtling toward General Tarkson.

"They'd fire on him!?" Weiss gasped.

"B-But he wanted to talk," Ruby whispered.

The arrows didn't make it to Tarkson. There was a mighty boom in the air, followed by a distortion of vision and sound. It must have been a spell of some kind, for a fierce wind seemed to strike the arrows mod-flight, diverting and knocking them off course. They scattered down around and before the General, some plinking off his armour and mount, but all momentum lost.

Back at the Mistral lines, four figures in black robes stood with staves extended. Battlemages, or rather Mages and other magic-users who had failed their First Quests and been sent back to the Soldier Caste. From what I understood those were pretty rare, mostly because it was easier for magic users to perform in the Quest than melee Classes. Unfair perhaps, but it was a fact of life. They weren't as prone to being injured in a bad exchange since most Grimm focused on melee.

Tarkson regarded the Vale force with incredible disdain. I had to admire his presence a little, especially when he turned his mount around, cape flicking back behind him as if to dismiss the entire army. He trotted back to his men, who parted before him, and took his position at the back.

"What a waste," Ren said. "This could have been solved through diplomacy…"

"Arrogance," Weiss said.

Blake disagreed. "I'm not so sure. The army from Vale is here for one thing and one thing only – to retake Caddin's Rest. Knowing the Mistral forces wouldn't give it up without a fight they probably saw speaking here a pointless risk. Killing the enemy commander, though…"

"It's dishonourable," Ruby said.

"It's war. It's killing. You can dress it up however you like, but murder is all it will remain."

A horn from the Mistral army sounded, passed along the lines as more took up the sound. The ranks and ranks of soldiers began to slowly march forward. Their cavalry flanked wide, not coming as far as us, but posturing on the sides, matched in turn by Vale's cavalry which did much the same.

On the Vale lines, the main ranks didn't move, but others did – skirmishers pouring from the ranks and jogging forward. Bows twanged and arrows sailed up into the air in a murderous volley. An order barked from the Mistral lines brought shields up, the force not slowing as it moved. Many of the arrows were turned aside by it, but others found their mark. Some was deflected by armour. More got through, and I watched several people fall. Their allies marched around and over them, thankfully careful not to crush them, or so I hoped.

The worst hadn't even happened and it was already too much. I felt useless on the side lines, unable to do anything and not sure what I could do even if I were able.

"Mistral seems more disciplined," Ren commented.

"They pride themselves on it," Pyrrha said. "Loyalty to the religion and the Kingdom before all else. It doesn't always work that easily, but by giving off that image they can intimidate many of their foes. Even so, Mistral has one of the largest standing armies in the four Kingdoms."

"I thought Vale had a higher population than Mistral," Yang said, surprised.

"Perhaps all combined, yes, but Vale also has a lot of its forces spread around various Noble Houses and provincial dukes and counts. Mistral is more centralised. People look after areas, but they're considered custodians and regents, not actual rulers. The army is controlled by the monarchy and the monarchy only."

Which made it easier to mobilise, train, and command, I supposed. It would also give them a better sense of identity, since they all trained and fought together for a single cause. Vale, by comparison, was better able to lead itself when cut off from command, but was fractured by different ideologies and allegiances. I'd always considered that individualism a good thing; a sign of personal freedom. It didn't look like that translated into an effective defence, however.

Mistral was halfway across the field when Vale finally moved. The arrows continued, but the skirmishers began to fall back – and the ranks and ranks of Vale soldiers slowly started to make their way down the hill. It wasn't a charge, not yet, but rather a steady advance, spears at the ready and arrows launched in graceful arcs overhead.

As they closed, spells began to fly. It came from Mistral first, a series of fireballs launched like boulders from great catapults. The Mages from Vale worked to dispel them, pushing them aside with wind or trying to lance the balls themselves with ice or fire of their own, causing them to explode harmlessly above the battle and rain embers down on those below. Others ignored it, however, launching attacks of their own. Explosions ran through both forces, bodies thrown into the air or burned to a crisp as the first obvious casualties of the battle occurred before our eyes. Weiss gagged, ducking her head and covering her mouth with one hand.

The spells marked the first death – but also the point where distance was dangerous. Vale charged first, the men and women at the front screaming as they broke ranks and rushed in – seeking the reckless comfort of melee. They were matched by Mistral, black armour and ordered ranks unable to fully stem the adrenaline and fear. Screams were issued, flags were thrown aside, and steel glinted.

The first clash of the charge was a bloodbath. It seemed impossible that anyone survived it. I saw one woman rush in with her spear and impale someone from Mistral through their stomach, only for her to be pierced through her breast in turn and driven to the ground. Someone stepped over her body, raising a spear over the one that had killed her and stabbing the assailant in turn. The screams of the dying couldn't even be heard over the roars of the living.

Spears closed and swords were drawn. No finesse, just the hack and slash of brutal melee. What few sought to parry were often overwhelmed or killed from behind and the ordered ranks became intermingled and confused, people fighting in small pockets of two or four, with the occasional victor hurrying over to stab someone in the back while they were distracted. Arrows sailed above it all, aimed now at the Mages on the Mistral back line, who in turn sought to push them aside and rain their own destruction on the skirmishers.

One plucky soldier from Vale managed to break through Mistral's lines, gods only knew how. He looked up and saw the Mages, roared a battle cry and charged toward them. One of the robed figures turned. A flash of light and lightning struck the soldier, killing him with contemptuous ease. The Mage took an arrow to the throat a second later, the moment's distraction proving to be all an Archer needed. He fell with one hand grasping his throat. No one moved to assist him.

Horns sounded. My sight of the battlefield was cut off as the two cavalry squads closest to us crashed into one another, lances held before them. The noise was unimaginable. They struck at incredible speed and people were thrown from their mounts. Horses screamed and screeched, pierced through and dying, falling onto their sides and crushing their riders. The lucky died instantly. Some of those poor creatures continued to scream and cry, not understanding why this was happening. Ruby started to openly cry behind me.

I watched as one of the men thrown from his horse struggled to stand. He was cleaved in twain by a woman with a great sword before he could. She had no time to celebrate. A mistral soldier galloped by, swinging his sword with an almost lethargic motion down into her back. She looked surprised as she died, falling face-first onto the grass; what had been grass. It was all mud now.

The Mistral cavalry proved victorious on our flank, pushing on with several cries, dashing the wounded to death beneath their hooves and leaving their fallen horses behind to die in misery. A wounded but still living Mistral soldier limped over to his, falling across its flank and stroking its neck. I saw the knife come down for the mercy kill, silencing its agony.

"Jaune…you…?" Blake's voice was choked with emotion. It brought me back to reality. The whole Guild was in a state. Ruby was crying, but she wasn't alone. Pyrrha's cheeks were wet and Yang gripped her reins with shaking hands, face hidden behind one arm. Nora's smile was a distant memory. Ren had his eyes closed, his brow drawn down, his breathing laboured. Weiss had dismounted. She was throwing up on hands and knees. Even Blake was pale, the normally controlled woman shaking slightly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching a hand over to touch her. She shied away from it. She looked nervously at me.

"Your eyes…"

I wasn't sure what she meant – unless I was crying too and hadn't realised it. I reached one hand up to touch my face but it came away dry. As I looked at the skin of my palm however, I noticed an odd blue tinge to it. Reflected light; my eyes were glowing. That was odd. I wasn't using a Skill. I'd just been watching the senseless massacre, watching and hating every moment of it.

"It's nothing," I said. "I feel fine."

"After seeing all of this?"

"Not fine, then. Angry, upset, but… I'm okay. I can handle it."

"Better than we can," Blake whispered, shaking her head. She looked out over the battlefield and gasped. I saw it instantly.

"Grimm spawn!" I yelled. Heads snapped up and Weiss pushed herself off the grass, staggering to her mount. The spawn was occurring somewhere in the middle of the battle lines. I could see it in the form of a gap in the melee, soldiers on both sides falling back as thick black tar formed into something resembling a vaguely lupine shape.

"How are we supposed to get to it?" Pyrrha asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "There's a whole battle raging between us!"

"We force our way in," I said, sterner than I'd ever felt before. I looked to the others, noting their fear. No, not fear – revulsion and sorrow. They weren't afraid of this. They were just as distraught as I was. I nodded to them all. "Follow me."

"What-? Jaune!"

My knees dug into Faith's side. The mare, eager for action, surged forward. Wind whipped across my face and I kept my head low, at the level of the mare's as it bobbed up and down in its rich, green caparison. Behind, I could hear the others following. My eyes moved back ahead, teeth gritted together as I approached the battle lines.

The soldiers heard me coming, turning to face me.

"Move!" I screamed. "Grimm!"

The Mistral and Vale lines parted. I wasn't convinced it was my warning of my voice, both swallowed by the melee, but rather everyone getting out of the way of a knight in armour on a stampeding horse, flanked by seven others as we surged through the lines of men and women. Pikes and spears were pulled aside, swords checked and blows halted at the last second. The ground was a muddy slush of brown and red that was kicked up on either side, Faith whinnying as she less galloped and more worked her way through the mire. In green and gold, we cut a path through the middle of the warring armies.

Up ahead, the Grimm had spawned. It was a large thing that moved on all fours and bore a sick resemblance to a horse. Others, smaller, formed about it, lunging and lashing out with hooves that struck men and women to the ground. The main beast itself trampled forward, killing ten or more people immediately, unheeding of allegiance or purpose. It kicked both hooves back, striking down four or five soldiers, each of which was beset and killed by the smaller. Some of the Soldier Caste sought to defend themselves, throwing away the battle for a moment. They fared well against the smaller ones; those that weren't distracted and killed from behind. But the larger Grimm-horse, the Elder Grimm, carved its way through any that dared challenge it.

Anger surged through me. Crocea Mors sang as she was drawn from her sheathe. The ring of steel behind told me everyone else had done the same, and we forced our way through the battle still, knocking soldiers aside before they could think to keep fighting.

"Make way! Move!"

One of the smaller equine-Grimm rushed after a wounded Vale soldier. It reared up, knocking aside his hasty parry with its hooves. The soldier fell and the Grimm rose up to crash down on his skull.

Crocea Mors cleaved through its neck before it could.

The last soldiers were cleared. Many fell back, others giving way – all desperate to escape the Grimm. Faith charged through and knocked one of the Grimm aside. I slapped a hand on her rear to set her off and slipped off the back, landing in the mud as she pushed through and out of the melee, hopefully to safety. I didn't feel confident fighting on horseback.

Another of the small ones got in my way, lashing out with its hooves. Unlike the soldier I was strong enough to catch them on my sword and push them aside, staggering the beast. My footing failed in the mud but I wasn't alone. Ruby crashed through the ranks on the other side of the beast, sat in her saddle and wielding her scythe two-handed. It surged down and reaped the beast in one blow, cutting it in two through the middle. She twisted the weapon up and over, bringing it down on her other side – and echoing another monstrous roar of anger as she cut through another.

The others poured through a second later, fanning out and around, the horses struggling in the mud but capable of surrounding the Grimm, cutting the soldiers off from further harm. Too many had died already, their faces either down in the mud or staring open at the sky. The Grimm left no prisoners and always knew if you pretended to be dead. They'd killed all around them.

"Jaune, get to the big one!" Weiss yelled, rapier in hand. She threw her other forward, igniting the ground in a path in front of me, baking it into hardened clay and giving me an easier route to the giant horse-Grimm. "Pyrrha, give him a hand."

"On it," the Champion yelled, dismounting and hurrying over to me. She dragged me out of the mud and up onto the platform and we sprinted forward. The smaller Grimm threatened our flanks but were cut down, sometimes by shards of ice, and at one point by a furious Barbarian leaping from her horse with a war hammer held high above her.

"It looks like an Elder Grimm," I gasped, breathing heavily as we sprinted after it. The huge horse was busy goring some brave soldiers who were trying to distract it.

"It's a Nucklelavee," Pyrrha explained. "They're indigenous to Mistral, but I've heard they can stray to any grass and plains regions. Beware of its breath. It's said to be poisonous."

Yeah, and its hooves and the horns, and the twisted rider that seemed to languish atop it. Its back was riddles with arrows, spears and knives, testament to the fighting spirit of the soldiers it was killing.

"It's just the one creature, despite looking like two. If you kill the horse, you kill the rider."

I nodded. That was good to know. "Got it. Can you tank?"

"Leave it to me." Pyrrha raced ahead, shouting out to catch its attention. It was disgusting how both heads moved in unison, turning to focus on her, but the Champion remained confident and clashed her sword against her shield to taunt it.

That gave me a chance to get behind it. I left the hardened mud, back into the quagmire of death, and trudged my way around to its flank. I'd seen first-hand the damage those hooves could cause, so attacking from behind would be a sure way to get my head knocked off. The strangest part about the whole ordeal was how calm I felt, as though concerns for personal safety were distant or muted. I could acutely remember being terrified of the first Beowolf I'd fought, and equally frightened of the monstrous Ursa in the dungeon. This seemed weaker than the latter, but much stronger than the first, and yet my eyes sought weaknesses in its hide.

If we didn't kill it, many of the soldiers would die. Oh, they'd bring it down in time. They were the same Classes as Heroes in all cases. But the problem was the battle becoming a three-way melee, with either side potentially content to let the Grimm run rampant so long as it took its anger out on the enemy. With that happening, many of the soldiers would be reluctant to engage it, fearing a sword through the back if they turned.

It would reap a terrible toll until it was eventually brought down, perhaps when the stronger members of Mistral's army managed to work their way through to it. Well, that was if we left it. I didn't intend to do that.

Even if they're invading our country they're still people. They have families and loved ones, lives and dreams. The Grimm couldn't be allowed to take that away.

The Nucklelavee lunged toward Pyrrha, using its horse head to snap at her while the rider's arms flailed, elongated and serpentine. She blocked the first blow with her shield, turned aside one arm, and expertly stepped in under the other. Her eyes met mine through the mass of black. She nodded once.

Gripping Crocea Mors with both hands, I lunged in toward its flank, slipping under its side and driving my sword up into its belly. The monster screeched and roared at the same time, one from each mouth. It bucked back to shake me but I'd always withdrawn, sliding the sword out and throwing myself back. That prevented the instinctive spin and kick of the hooves from reaching me. My back slammed into something solid. A quick glance revealed Yang, currently tussling with the head of a smaller Grimm that she had between both hands. She twisted it violently to the side, cracking the bone audibly.

"Need a hand?" she asked.

"If the other Grimm are dealt with."

"The others are dealing with them. Weiss cut them off from the soldiers with a spell."

Perfect. She'd probably saved lives with that. Nora, Ren, Blake and Ruby would be able to handle the rest, and this thing was definitely going to require a little teamwork. "See if you can get in while Pyrrha distracts it," I said. "The sides aren't armoured and the whole thing dies whichever body we kill."

"Righto." Yang lunged forward but nearly tripped. "Stupid mud!" She dragged one boot out, now caked brown and red. We both pretended we didn't see the red, nor what her foot had sunk into. "I'll take the left. You got the right?"

I nodded. "Sounds good."

The Nucklelavee had become more aware of the danger after my last attack. While its main head focused on Pyrrha the second watched me as I went wide and around – and the beast angled its back to face me, prepared should I move in. As we danced about, I manoeuvred it so that Yang had a better opening, and the rider's swung lazily in her direction when she shouted a battle cry and charged in.

That was for my benefit, obviously. Now distracted, the beast turned, giving me my best shout of getting under its hooves. As I rushed in, I reached a hand into my pocket, drawing out a tiny square of steel. A quick look down showed a faint blue glow on it. I couldn't use my Runesmithing to put runes onto armour, not yet, but that didn't mean I couldn't take advantage of ones that already existed. I slapped it against my breastplate, over my heart, and activated my one true skill.

The metal began to heat and soften. Yang hit the Nucklelavee's side. I concentrated and splayed out the edges of the square plate, less forging it to my breastplate as welding the edges down, fixing it in place. It took less than three seconds. In that time I'd closed the distance.

The Nucklelavee's back twitched. Its legs moved away from Yang, toward me. "Look out!" Pyrrha yelled.

The kick came faster than anything I'd dealt with before. I managed to get Crocea Mors in its path, but only because I was ready for it. I couldn't parry it, nor hope to, but I was able to divert its path a scant few inches, and to turn my body. The hoof crashed into my breastplate at an angle. It would have been enough to puncture through and gore me, but the armour glowed blue and held.

What was more, a little bit of ice spread out over the Nucklelavee's leg, a consequence of hitting the now magical armour. I'd tested the runes. I knew what they did, and I'd chosen this one specifically. With the leg outstretched and me already off balance there wasn't time for finesse. I caught my sword by the blade, holding it more like a stave, and slashed it down onto the frozen skin and muscle.

I didn't sever it. Not quite. But the hoof hung from a loose amount of skin, now three-quarters cut through. The Nucklelavee sagged and stumbled backward, falling onto its rear.

"Pyrrha, now!"

The Champion was already mid-flight. She'd leapt the second I hit and landed on the beast's chest with her sword driven into the horse's neck. She used it as a pivot to swing herself up so that she was crouched before the rider – who stared at her with confusion in its eyes. She had none, however. Her short sword reared back and with a mighty cry thrust into the rider's eyes, directly above its plated and stretched mouth.

It stilled ominously, glowing eyes piercing down into Pyrrha's. For a second I feared the worse and moved to assist, but when she drew it slowly back, the creature's head slumped to the side. The beast itself fell without a sound, disgorging Pyrrha into the mud. The Champion rolled, or tried to. I offered a hand to help her up since she was stuck.

"T-Thanks," she grunted.

"No problem." I scanned the area, ignoring the frightened, relieved and bloody faces of the soldiers watching us. "Looks like the others managed to deal with the little ones. That was a good blow, Pyrrha."

"Forget my attack. What happened to letting me tank it?" she snapped. "You took a blow head on. How are you even standing?"

I dinked my hand against my armour, covering the piece welded on. "Armour from Ozpin."

She shook her head. "Even so, don't be so reckless."

I laughed and made to reply, but a shadow cast over the two of us. Someone screamed a warning – and even though I didn't hear the words, I knew what was said. It wasn't the first Nucklelavee but a second. There'd been more than one spawn.

I shoved Pyrrha away without a word. It saved her but left me open and its fore hooves caught me in the chest, the force alone lifting me from my feet and launching me through the air. Crocea Mors splashed into the mud nearby, a second after I did. The air had been blown from my lungs. I gasped for breath even as my hand stretched out to try and reach my sword. The black and red monster loped towards me, uncaring of the blows Yang rained on its flank. I tried to move, to roll over or stand, but I'd sunk a few inches in and the ground itself felt like it had taken hold of me. I could only watch as the blasted thing approached.

A fireball struck its chest from over me. It was a small thing, barely enough to wind it – and I was about to call for Weiss to do something more. Except that where the fire struck, it clung. It spread hungrily, growing in intensity at an impossible rate. The fire burned hot and fast, flames stretching up a good foot or two above the monster's body, burning with intensity far greater than natural fire.

The thing screeched and tossed its heads from side to side, trying to fight the blaze. Its long arms slapped against itself but those caught fire too, the flames hungrily burning and even stretching down its legs to the mud where that too impossibly burned. In a matter of three seconds it had become a bonfire, and the heat that washed over me was enough to make me sweat.

A second later, it was over. The Nucklelavee's legs collapsed beneath it and it slumped down. It was incinerated in front of my eyes, burned from the outside in until nothing remained.

The sound of a horse's hooves slopping through the mud sounded behind me. I managed to stretch my head back in time to see a horse blacker than midnight, with a caparison to match in colour and intensity. The golden sigil of the combined nations clung proudly to its side. Atop it, a hooded figure with one hand outstretched, flames dancing between her fingers. She smiled down at me, the face visible under the hood from my angle on the floor. Her golden eyes danced with amusement.

"Need a little help, Hero?"

Cinder Fall, future Queen of Mistral, smirked down at me.

/-/

The battle ended in Mistral's favour. I couldn't bring myself to care about that, or Vale's loss. I sat on a log in a small camp away from the celebrating army, close to our horses, all of whom had been reclaimed safe and sound. Our camp was nothing more than a collection of tents around a central fire pit, though we'd left two flags on the outskirts, both with the same symbol of the Heroes, but one with a green background and one with a black, standing side by side.

It was a nice symbol of our co-operation, but it didn't make me feel much better. Hundreds had died and our efforts, while saving some, hadn't done anything to stop the battle. The moment the Grimm had been dealt with the melee resumed, and soon after Mistral's cavalry, victorious on both flanks, rounded about to attack Vale's supply and command, which signalled the retreat. I'd thought it bad before, but that scene had etched itself into my memories. There had been more killing in the rout than the battle itself.

"Tarkson managed to get control of his men," Blake reported, coming up from behind. "He's ordered them to take what prisoners remain. He's had a message sent to the Vale forces that they can come and collect their fallen and wounded without fear of attack. I'm not sure they'll take it."

"Then what happens to them?"

"The dead will be burned. The living will remain prisoners… at least until the war is over."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No," she said, sitting down beside me. "But it means there won't be any more killing. It's over."

"Only for tonight," I said.

She nodded. "Yes…"

The silence stretched between us. I could hear Cinder and some of the others talking in the distance but my attention was focused solely on the dirt beneath my feet, my hands pooled between my knees.

"Sorry," I said, suddenly. "I'm not angry at you. It's just…"

"I know." Blake rested one knee against mine in a show of support.

"It feels like I'm about to be sick at any moment," I admitted. "My stomach keeps churning and the images are replaying in my head over and over. And the sounds, Blake. It's the horses I remember the worst. It was so high-pitched. Like… like a child screaming." I turned to look at her. "I don't know how you're so calm right now."

"Because I'm emotionally spent," the Assassin said. "I went through all of that in the battle. I nearly lost control of myself. I wanted to be sick and I couldn't stop shaking." If the admittance of weakness bothered her she didn't show it, brushing one hand through her raven locks. "It was only because of you that I was able to move, you know. That any of us were. You were able to stay calm in the madness even when Ruby started crying and Weiss lost her stomach. No one else could pay attention, let alone think to move. How did you do it?"

"I… I don't know…" I stared down at my hands. They were still caked with mud. "I didn't feel anything at the time. Angry and upset, but… muted, somehow. Like it was far away."

"And yet you're feeling it all now?" she asked.

"Like I'm right there living it all."

"That's strange. It's all muted for us now. We… well, I wouldn't say we got it out of our systems, but we're all exhausted. The worst of the horror has passed and now we're just too tired to process it. But we almost fell apart at the moment where you were able to stay calm." Blake touched a hand to my chin and tilted my head to face hers. She stared into my eyes, searching for something.

"Blake?"

"Your eyes were glowing the whole time. Were you using a skill to keep yourself calm? Some Charisma-based Knight ability?"

"No. Nothing."

She saw the honesty in my eyes and nodded, releasing me. "Maybe it's nothing," she said. "We should just be grateful it all worked out."

I was grateful, at least on the inside. But at the same time I couldn't stop the images that flashed before my eyes. I clenched them shut, hoping that would help. Instead, I saw a woman ran through with spears, one through her stomach and the other through her face – tearing between her eyes and out the back of her helmet. My breath came out in harsh pants.

Blake's arms wrapped around me. "It's okay if you want to let it out. Anyone would cry after this."

"You didn't," I said, cursing as my voice cracked.

"I'm an Assassin."

"What does that even mean? That you don't feel emotion?"

"No." Blake smiled sadly. "It means I'm good at stealth. I hid my tears."

I laughed. That was just like her. The laughter cracked halfway through, however, and soon dissolved into muffled sobs. True to her words, Blake didn't say a word. She just sat next to me, letting the tears come forth.

"We're going to have to do this again, aren't we?" I managed. "Again and again until the war is over…"

Blake hesitated to answer, no doubt trying to decide whether she should lie for my benefit or not. In the end she sighed. "Yes, we are. I'm sorry. It's not going to stop until the war ends. And as long as the fighting continues, so too will the Grimm. We have to be there to stop them. Because no one else can."

"Then perhaps it would be for the best if the war ended quickly," Cinder Fall said from behind. She stood before one of the more well-made tents with her arms crossed. She pretended not to notice as I rubbed my arm over my eyes. That or she gave in to Blake's fierce glare. "I've already spoken to the rest of your Guild about the issue. I want you all to take me to Beacon."

"Our orders are to stay here," I said. "We have to protect Caddin's Rest from the Grimm."

"The battle here is over and the Mistral army will need time to recover and deal with the wounded and dead. They won't be going anywhere. Emerald and Mercury can guard this place in your absence, at least until Beacon sends more Heroes to relieve them."

"Why do you want to reach Beacon?" Blake asked.

"I understand the headmaster there tried to work toward peace before this nightmare began. I'd like to speak with him, to see if some form of reconciliation might yet by achieved. This war is a pointless endeavour. It needs to stop."

"Aren't you the future Queen of Mistral? Just order it to end."

"I'm the consort of the Crown Prince," she countered. "Right now I could still be cast aside and my opinion is worth nothing compared to that of the God King in Mistral. I will have a say later, but I'd rather not come into power over a country torn apart by war. I believe that with my help Ozpin might be able to tailor a peace agreement. It's why I ensured I was here on the vanguard ships, so that I could make contact with Vale's Heroes sooner." She nodded to us. "It's fortunate that it turned out to be your group."

"There's a chance for peace?" I asked, voice cracking.

"A chance," Cinder said. "That is all it is. That said it's still more of a chance than letting our Soldier Caste kill itself against yours. Even should we win we'd have too large an area to protect from the Grimm. This whole war is pointless. Of course, that will only be possible if I have your assistance. I need to reach Beacon in one piece, and I need a direct audience with Ozpin." Cinder waved a hand toward the Mistral camp. "As you might expect, a convoy from Mistral might not garner a warm welcome, nor will our Heroes. If the King of Vale discovers who I am he might lock me in his palace as a bargaining chip."

"You need us to sneak you into Beacon," Blake realised. "That's a lot you're asking from us."

"And I'm placing a lot in your hands. My life, for one."

Blake glanced to me. "It's your call," she whispered.

Was it? I didn't think it was. Still, for a chance at fixing this mess there wasn't much I wouldn't do. The Grand Treaty prevented us from interfering, at least explicitly, but it never said we couldn't be a part of the peace process. It was worth a shot.

"We'll do it. We'll help you."


The return of Cinder – who seems awfully changed from canon. Then again, she's kind of already got what she wants, hasn't she? The Queen of a Kingdom that will see her as a Goddess? Yeah, that's pretty much as high as you can go. Of course, she'll want to keep that Kingdom in one piece since it'll be hers and all.

And yes, Jaune got EXP. I'll cover that next chapter. God knows he can't accidentally kill a squirrel without everyone demanding to know if he got a level off it. I did take note of some good criticism that pointed out that I'd had too much Blake and Jaune lately, and that it often felt like those two were the only ones to say or do anything. I'll hold my hands up to that, as it seems accurate. As such, I've tried - and will continue to do so - to include a little more from the others here. At least where it's not plot-required. As such, Pyrrha and Yang got more of a moment here, and I made sure to include more dialogue from Ren and the others.

Thanks for pointing it out.


The Grand Treaty:


On the Treaty, again this is kind of a recurring thing, but I know it's flawed. I understand people saying it would be hard to keep, and I agree, but the people specifically calling me an idiot need to remember that this is fiction and I'm not some idealistic muppet assuming a few words on a parchment would solve all of life's ills. I don't honestly think something like this would be easy to keep in real life, nor would it even be needed in real life. Most people in Remnant here probably feel the same, but it's still something they're hoping will work.

If you lived in Remnant and a war did happen, then the Grimm would be an immediate and fatal problem, and you would need some kind of system in place to try and control that. This is what the Treaty is. Is it perfect? No, not at all. There isn't really a real-world comparison, other than to imagine some alien species who WILL destroy all life if you go below X number in an army. If a war did then occur, then I'm sure both sides would make some kind of agreement to maintain X troops out of it, to prevent a life-ending catastrophe. Would one side break it? Maybe. But they'd still TRY and make it in the first place! They wouldn't say:

"Ah, it'll never work. I guess we'll just let ourselves be killed. That okay with you?"

"Sounds good to me."

Is the treaty necessary? Well, unless you want everyone who can stop the Grimm killing one another, causing enough negativity to summon said Grimm in enough numbers to destroy an entire Kingdom (what will all the Heroes injured or dead), then yes, it would be necessary to have something, even something flawed.

I know a few have likened it to Hague and Geneva conventions, but those were a little different because the act of breaking them was convenient. It actually expedited a battle and made life easier for the one who did it. Taking gas attacks as an example, if there were also murderous monsters around who could only be kept away by that same gas, then you'd probably not have had people on both sides using it on one another and leaving themselves to be torn to shreds by said monsters.

And, much like the Hague and Geneva conventions, the fact that people knew they might be broken didn't stop them from making them in the first place. Were they flawed? Maybe. But a damn sight less flawed than shrugging one's shoulders and bringing out the attacks on civilians on day one.


Next Chapter: 12th March

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur