Wow. My internet died this weekend. For those who missed it, Unseen Hunt should be updated now since I couldn't do so yesterday. Have to contact my ISP today and yell at them a bit until they agree to come fix it.
Beta: College Fool
Cover Art: Dishwasher1910
Book 8: Chapter 16
"Use your feet more. You've got a longer sword; use that reach."
"Rargh!"
Crocea Mors rose up and deflected the sword to the side in a shower of sparks. The new sword, forged from the best steel I could buy, held firm, while Elayne's blade was sent thudding into the grass. "Better. You're a lot stronger than I remember."
"Yeah well, you'd have been here to see me get stronger if you'd stayed."
I swallowed a wince and stepped back from her swing, letting her waste energy catching her momentum. The Warrior surged back in with a howl, swinging and flailing with incredible anger, closer to Nora than herself.
It was to be expected, I guessed. I'd failed yet again to keep my promise to Elayne, though Blake had been quick to explain to the girl that such was her fault and not mine. It didn't do much for Elayne, who seemed determined to punish me herself.
I turned away another strike and stepped into her guard, planting the flat of my hand on her chest – her breastbone, carefully above her breasts. She was sent sailing back, landing awkwardly and rolling backward onto her feet.
"Try not to let anger cloud you too much. It's a useful tool, but it makes you reckless."
"Shut up!" Elayne charged in. "I'm going to hit you! At least once!"
I considered letting her; I did deserve it. In the end, I swayed away from her first attack and parried the second, then stepped in behind her and hooked one arm around her neck and a foot between hers. With a heave, I lifted her up off the floor and held her against me while she struggled and tried to flail back to hit me.
Taking a blow from her might do serious damage, especially if I wasn't careful. This close to Salem's impending invasion, I couldn't risk it. Ozpin had already told me he'd have my forge ready for me this afternoon and I'd be putting too many people at risk if I had to take the day off to recover from a training accident.
"I'm sorry, Elayne," I said, grappling with her. "I didn't want to break my promise, but it was that or let one of my guildmates die. You know I can't do that."
"Hngh! Argh!" Elayne threw an elbow back. It glanced off my shoulder. "Let me hit you!"
"That's not going to happen." I tried a smile. "What kind of teacher would I be if I didn't challenge you?"
"A good one! One that doesn't run off every other month!"
"I'm here now. Aren't I?"
Ellayne went slack, head falling forward. "Yeah. Now that the world is ending and we're all about to be killed. Fat lot of good that does."
I loosened my hold. "Elayne…"
"Hah!" My apprentice stamped one foot down and twisted, dropping her sword and pulling a dagger from her waist. Her elbow caught the side of my head and unbalanced me, and though I managed to catch the wrist holding the dagger, she'd thrown herself on me and bowled me over.
We landed with a crash of armour, me struggling to push off the smaller girl who straddled my waist and tried to get the knife to my neck. I wrestled it aside, rolling over so that we were side by side, almost spooning – if one could look beyond the obvious attempts to `kill` one another.
"Sneaky." I grunted and held on to her. "Very sneaky. But I thought we were practicing swordplay, not dagger work."
"You're not the only one who can break the rules."
Elayne managed to tilt the knife down so that the tip dug into my hand, forcing me to let go or risk being cut. She took full advantage, throwing one knee over my hip and shifting her centre of mass so she could ride me down onto my back. My hand caught her wrist, but Elayne saw it and dropped the knife, catching it with her offhand and bringing it up to rest against my neck.
"I win!" she crowed.
It was a stalemate, though not in the way she expected. I had her hand and I could, with the use of my Skill, burn it so badly she would scream and pull away. I was also confident I could take a blow from her and survive, though it would be tricky in the neck. My other hand was also on her leg, and she wore enough metal for me to melt her alive.
With a smile, I closed my eyes. "I guess you do. Good job."
The dagger went away with a flick of her wrist – not Blake levels of skill, but a fair effort. Elayne made to stand, then decided against it and continued to sit on my stomach, bringing her knees up so that she was fully balanced on top of me.
"Hey master," she said.
"Jaune. I've told you to call me that."
"Are we…" Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "Are we going to die…?"
My good mood evaporated and reality came crashing back down, as it tended to. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the mood in Vale was despairing. There was an air or morbidity around the city, with people all too certain their lives were going to come to an end in the coming months. They weren't wrong. That much I could say for certain.
"You know I'm not an Oracle, Elayne. I can't say for certain."
"You've faced her, though. This Salem. You know what she's capable of."
"I've also survived her numerous times." I sat slowly, making sure to roll her back gently so that she landed on the grass without hurting herself. Before she could scuttle away, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and we sat together. "I won't lie and say it'll be easy, but we can win this. I'm sure of it."
"Are you just saying that to make me feel better?"
Yes. Yes, I was.
"I've seen the fortifications being built," Elayne said. "Miss Goodwitch had me and my friends out this morning setting up spiked barricades outside the walls. We had to wait for the archers to fire, then erect them up ten metres in range. They're supposed to slow down the assault within the archer's killing zone, giving them more time to find the range and shoot."
"Creating a killing field," I said. "Clever."
"Thing is, that's not even the start. We're to make more – five layers, then have a wall which will be packed full of straw and oil for the Mages to set alight halfway through, then a trench which will be filled with spikes – then another filled with oil. After that, there's a flat killing ground but I don't know what for, then more spike barricades, traps and finally just a stretch of ground with holes dug into it to trip the enemy up."
"Sounds like you've been busy."
"It's everything," she said. "Every single bit of space is being used in one way or another – space that's supposed to be farmland and places to live." Elayne looked me in the eye. "It's because we're not expected to survive, isn't it? You normally hold back so you can still use the land after, but we're ruining it. What isn't blasted with spellfire is going to be burned or uneven. It's going to be a wasteland outside the walls."
"Can't you just appreciate that they're not taking any chances?"
"I'd appreciate the truth more."
The truth, huh? That was a dangerous beast. It changed from man to man. Still, while I wanted to hide it from her, I could see that she needed to hear it. More than that, I think she needed to hear it from me. As some sign that I thought her mature enough to handle it. Given that she was mature enough be expected to stand on those walls against Salem and the horde, it would be arrogant in the extreme to treat her like a child.
"The odds are against us," I said slowly, speaking each word cautiously and only after running over then in my head. "Salem is easily the most powerful creature on Remnant right now, and her abilities are a mystery."
"You're right in saying Vale is treating this like a final battle," I continued. "Ozpin believes it might be; that the Grimm will disappear if she's killed. Or at least be diminished."
"This is it, then. The final battle of our world?"
"Maybe." I dithered for a second, then laughed. "Isn't that what they call every battle, though? I'm sure the war against Mistral was supposed to be the end of Vale. I won't lie and say we're sure to come out of this alive, but what I will say is that Vale isn't going to spare any expense. As you've seen, every bit of land is going to be used. Every hour of prep time. Every tool at our disposal. And not just ours."
I looked back toward Beacon, motioning for Elayne to follow. There, a good thirty metres tall and slowly growing, a tall and coiled structure that appeared to be built from vines made of solid metal was slowly taking shape. The unnatural yet natural phenomenon was both grown and constructed, an inorganic, organic, creation made by magic.
Atlas magic.
"I'd heard the Archmage was given the name `Ironwood` but I didn't expect it to be that literal," she said.
"I know what you mean. I'm not even sure what that tower is for, but if the Archmage thinks it'll help, I'm sure it will. He's been out there every day, using his magic until he's all but exhausted and then taking only enough rest until he can do it again." I glanced at Elayne, smiling. "And reinforcements from Atlas are supposed to be arriving in the next few days, along with shipments of food and supplies for the siege."
"They say Atlas' Mages are without peer," Elayne said excitedly. "Is that true?"
"They can definitely achieve some pretty amazing things. I once met a construct created solely from magic, who could act, think and speak like a real person."
Elayne laughed. "You're making fun of me."
"No. it's true. And that's only the beginning of what they can do. Sentinels and Mages working in tandem, research into how magic can be used to enchant or create incredible effects, and then just raw power like Archmage Ironwood. All those people are going to be fighting on the walls," I said. "And probably before you will be. We'll be starting with our best, and you, my apprentice, are not quite there yet."
"Are you?" she asked immediately.
"No."
"Hah." Her shoulders released, the tension slipping away. "Then I can stand with you," she said quickly. Her dream, as I recalled. To stand beside me as an equal. "We can fight side by side. Right?"
"I…"
"Jaune…?"
"I might not be on the walls. "
I took the chance of Elayne's silent shock to explain what Ozpin wanted of me and what it would mean for the people, many of whom wouldn't be close to Elayne's level, let alone mine. I ran through the same justifications I'd used on the Guild, and much like them, Elayne understood and hated it. Much like them, she protested.
"So you're not even going to get to fight!? That's bullshit!"
"Believe me when I say I know. And agree. Some people might see it as me avoiding danger, but it doesn't feel like that. I'm more frightened about doing this than fighting. I'll not be able to have an impact on the walls. I won't get to choose my destiny."
I'd have to outsource that to them, and if they failed, I'd be swept away in a tide of Grimm without ever having a chance to defend myself. I was going back to being a helpless civilian, a member of the Labour Caste, labouring away.
But I understood why it was necessary. I understood Ozpin's reasoning.
"But the truth is that I can do more with Runes than I can with a sword. Here. Give me yours."
Elayne held out her sword for me to take. It was a longsword that was thinner and lighter than mine, and a little longer. Used more in two hands than one, though it could be wielded one-handed if it came to it. Mostly thanks to her Strength being above average. I knew the sword well.
I'd made it for her, after all.
Perks of having a Blacksmith for a teacher.
Tracing my finger above the guard, I found a clear patch of metal and activated my Engraving Skill. My eyes flashed a pale blue and a Rune came into life on the metal, curling and wrapping in on itself as thin red lines burned away at the surface. Once it was done, the symbol glowed blue faintly, then faded until it was little more than an engraving.
"What does it do?" Elayne asked, taking it back. "I don't feel any different."
"It's `Frost`. One I developed especially against Raven Branwen, and which worked to some effect on Salem, too." Not much, but then Ruby had only been one person. "It won't make you any stronger or cause any more damage, but it'll create a non-damaging wall of ice over anyone or anything you hit. Try it," I said, nodding at a fallen log nearby.
Elayne nodded and climbed to her feet, swinging her blade down. It cut through the rotten wood with ease, but the two bisected parts cracked and spread with thick ice, weakening the wood and causing even the grass around it to become white with frost.
"It'll buy you time," I explained. "Anything you hit will have to break free before it can move. If nothing else, it'll give you a few seconds, even against a more powerful enemy." I smiled. "It's the best I can do, Elayne. I'm not going to be able to fight alongside you, but you'll be fighting to defend me for once."
Her eyes grew wide.
"Look after me. Okay?"
"Yes!" Elayne stood taller. "I'll protect you til my last breath!"
/-/
Elayne's break ended at the tolling of noon, where she was summoned back to the school to take on the next shift, transporting wood from the Emerald Forest to the slowly growing front lines. That time also coincided with when my own Guild finished their work, coming back weary, dirty and covered in sweat and dust.
Given that I was clean and well-rested, I felt more than a little guilty.
To assuage that, I helped Velvet prepare and serve food and drink, acting like a waiter to my exhausted friends and letting them all sit down. "How goes all the work?" I asked. "Elayne was telling me a little about it."
"Horrible," Nora groaned. "So much lifting. So many logs."
"The strongest of us are hauling goods about," Pyrrha explained. "Everyone else is either trapped building fortifications, whittling logs down into spikes or moving food and supplies into the city. The latter is surprisingly hard given how hungry the refugees are."
"Is there not enough food?"
"There is, but people are being foolish," Blake replied. "They're hoarding it or bartering it as currency for amenities. Many of them think they'll be trapped outside the wall when the enemy comes, and no amount of speeches by the guards are convincing them otherwise."
"Can't the city just give them more?"
"Not if it wants to have enough to feed them and everyone else who is going to arrive in the coming weeks. I spoke to Adam," Blake added. "He said he and his crew received more than enough food, as did everyone else in the refugee camp."
"Is he staying?" I asked.
"Yes. He's been helping with construction. There's nowhere for him to go now that the Mirage Isles have fallen. Adam knows his way around a hammer, as do all his crew. It's necessary when you have to repair and maintain your ship for weeks at a time."
Conversation dwindled off after that as Velvet brought some food, me standing up to help her bring in a pot of stew and a plate of sliced chicken, beef and gammon. We received more indulgent food than those outside the walls, but our bodies needed it. A Hero could do the work of ten men, even if that work was sharpening stakes and planting them in the ground.
Eventually, of course, the chatter turned back to the oncoming siege.
"I'm not sure we'll be fighting together at all," Pyrrha said. "Or that we'll be on the wall. We're good, but we're only students. The first wall will be the hardest for the Grimm to get past, especially with all the traps outside. Vale is going to want the best and strongest on those."
"Dad is coming," Yang said. "I got a letter from him this morning. Kinda scar, you know. Knowing he'll be on that wall."
I could only imagine it. It wasn't like Ansel, where my father had rushed in to support me against the Soldier Caste. That battle had been in our favour thanks to my level and the element of surprise. This was different. Under the barrage of Grimm Salem would bring, I wasn't confident that anyone who stood on the first wall would survive. Their job wasn't to win; it was to inflict grievous losses on the enemy and go down fighting.
Yang knew that, as did Ruby. We all did. The cheer we managed was a tacit understanding that we wouldn't consider such things now or let them taint our remaining time together. In truth, it was unlikely many of us would come out of this alive.
"So, Weiss, any news on what that thing growing in our backyard is going to be?" Yang quipped, elbowing the Mage in her side. "Come onnn. You can tell us."
"If I knew, I would. I heard someone mention the term `CCT` but I'm not sure what that stands for. It's definitely a building, though. Not a weapon. It's hollow on the inside, like it's supposed to contain something."
"A tower for spellcasting?" Blake offered.
"Maybe. But if so, it would have been better built in the city itself and near the walls. I don't think that's the case. Beacon was chosen because it's the safest part of the city, which means whatever it is, they want it out the way of danger."
"Something spell-related, though?" Nora asked.
"Yes. Obviously. I doubt the Archmage is building a statue of himself."
"Unless he intends to animate it," Pyrrha said.
"That… While that would be impressive, I doubt it's possible. Plus, there would be two legs. Not one spire. It's a tower. I refuse to believe the `T` in `CCT` stands for anything else. Sadly, I've not had a chance to talk with Winter. I believe she's organising material transfer from Atlas."
"Stocks and supplies?"
"That and spare weaponry, armour, potions and more. Anything and everything that might be of use. The shipping lanes are clear. There haven't been any Grimm attacks on supply boats."
"Come to think of it," Pyrrha said, "Apart from that Grimm at the Mirage Isles, we weren't attacked on the way home at all. Not a single Grimm."
It was true. Though we'd not seen many on our chase of Blake either, there should have been more on the way back due to the negativity, plus the fact we were on a larger ship with a crew of over one hundred people, all hungry and dispirited from the loss of their home.
And yet nothing. Nothing at all.
"Salem is drawing them to her," Ruby said, voice a whisper. The Reaper was sat on her seat, legs drawn up. Her plate was empty, and I couldn't say I'd seen her eat at all. Ours were all still full. "Every Grimm on the planet is joining her. That's why the refugee camp hasn't been attacked."
"Which it should have been," Ren realised. "That much despair and fear, and not a single Grimm? It's not just unlikely; it's impossible. Salem is collecting them all."
Every Grimm on Remnant. Every single one? The thought made me shiver. We'd slain our fair share, but we'd also been forced to band and work together to take on one at a time, be it the monstrous Ursa in our first Dungeon or the beast below the ocean in the Mirage Isles. Now all of those, along with every other Grimm, would be marching, flying or slithering on Vale.
Even the Elder Grimm.
Possibly even Ancient Grimm, beasts so dangerous as to have their own legends, and who could wipe out villages on their own, leaving no survivors.
"Looks like things are going to get exciting around here," Yang said weakly, affecting a laugh.
"That's one way of putting it."
/-/
I followed the sound of rushing wind out the back of the Lodge and into a small clearing where Ruby was training with her scythe. It wasn't Crescent Rose. Her baby, the first scythe I'd made, had been left back on the Mirage Isles. I hadn't thought to pick it up while carrying Ruby to safety and there'd been no chance to go back for it.
Instead, I had made her a new one – similar in all ways to Crescent Rose, and yet different.
Ruby had yet to name it.
I watched as she cut a few lazy swings in the air, facing off against a log stood up on another, the target standing up about the height of a short man. Ruby tested her swing a few times, drawing in deep breaths as she did.
Her foot shifted forward, and her eyes narrowed.
I was blown off my feet.
I never saw it coming. One second, she'd been itching to move, leaning forward as if she was about to kick off, and the next I was flying back, accompanied by what felt like a sonic boom. There was a loud crack of air and a rush of wind. I landed hard on my ass and pushed myself up into a seated position.
Of the log Ruby had been aiming for, nothing remained. Not even splinters or the log at all. It had vanished – either knocked away with such force that it was sent into the forest or burned to a crisp or just outfight `erased` from existence. There was nothing there.
Everything around it remained, but not in the state it had been.
The log upon which it had been balanced was on fire, smouldering lightly. The grass and dirt had a furrow carved into it, showing where she had run. Three ripples, like skin drawn up and then left there, showed each footstep. Grass was squashed into dirt and mud, and the space behind each footstep, where she had pushed off, was torn asunder.
The trees behind the target were damaged, too. One fell with an ominous creak, crashing down into the forest behind it, while others were carved through with scars and battle damage, like a thousand tiny knives had gone to task on them. The carnage radiated out in a cone from the point of striking, with the force directed outward.
Beyond it, a red form was slumped on the ground, unmoving.
"Ruby!" Panic welled inside me as I rushed over, leaping over the log to land on my knees and turn her over. I felt her shaking the moment I touched her, then heard her gasping and panting – almost to the point of crying. "Ruby," I whispered. "Ruby, are you okay!?"
Her scythe, the new scythe, was broken. The blade had shattered, and though the shaft was in one piece, it was bent near the top, forced back by the impact of the blade on wood. There was little that could be done for it other than to smelt it down and re-forge it.
Ruby's face was red, dark red and covered with sweat. Blood dripped from her nose and I could feel how hot she was through her clothing. I pulled off her cloak and threw it aside, stripping her down as much as I dared to. Just a few buttons to show her shoulders, but even those were hot to the touch.
"Ruby. Damn it. Wait here, I'll go get Wiess. She can use some ice-"
Her fist curled into my tunic before I could see it. There was no in between, no travel time, just her fist appearing and me being held in place.
Ruby groaned again, brow creasing as she let out a ragged gasp.
"I have water," I said, taking out my drinking flask. "Do you want it to drink, or-?"
Ruby took it. Slower, this time, moving with aching slowness as she brought it up and then tilted it over her body. Water streamed out, splashing over her face and neck and staining her white blouse until it was see-through. I tried not to look, grateful for her brasserie beneath which at least gave her some modesty.
Such thoughts were forgotten when the water touched her skin and steamed, hissing like a sword taken from the forge and dunked into water. Steam rose up off her as she lay there and gasped for breath, swallowing what little water dribbled down her face and into her mouth.
I knelt beside her, prying her hand free but making no move to leave.
It took the Reaper a few minutes to recover, minutes spent crying and struggling to breathe. The sobs weren't of grief or emotional pain, but raw physical pain. I could tell because of how ragged they were, how raw, and how her muscles twitched like they too were on fire. They rippled under her skin, moving like the worst cramps I'd ever seen. She would buckle and arch occasionally, gritting her teeth together as she tried to ride it out.
When it finally settled, Ruby lay before me, utterly exhausted.
Not ten minutes earlier, she had been as fresh as a daisy.
"What happened?" I asked, helping her up and into a sitting position. I let her lean against my knee while I fanned her with one hand. Ruby tilted her head back, enjoying that small comfort. "Was that a Skill? Something that uses all your stamina for one attack? If so, it's too dangerous to use."
"Not skill…" she mumbled, words slurring slightly.
"Not? Then what? I've never seen something so ridiculous. Your entire body is breaking down."
"That…" Ruby swallowed, then hacked and coughed some spit off to the side. She tried to wipe her mouth but was too weak. I did it for her, using the corner of my tunic. "That wasn't a Skill," she said, speaking slower. "It was an attack."
"What kind of attack?"
"A normal swing." Her shoulders hitched and fresh tears came, these ones full of sorrow. "I'm broken!" Ruby wept. "My stupid Class is broken and now I'm useless!"
"What? What do you-?" I looked to the carnage, then back to Ruby. "Wait, that was just you moving normally? As in, running forward and attacking the log?"
"Yes!"
"But-"
"It's my Class!" she wailed. "I have all this Agility, but no Constitution! I have-" She cut off as a wet sniffle interrupted her. "I – I have over nine-hundred and fifty Agility-"
Nine hundred!?
"B-But I still only have five Constitution without that Rune you made me. I can't handle the speed. I don't have the stamina. E-Even doing that nearly broke my body down to nothing." Her tears came more freely, running down my arm. "I can't fight properly, I can't run. The entire world looks like it's moving in slow motion and I even have to speak slowerornooneunderstandswhatIsay." The words blurred together, Ruby's lips moving at a ridiculous speed.
I stared at her.
"I have to speak slower," she said again, obviously struggling to annunciate each word. "Or no one understands what I say. I – I hate it. Why can't I be normal? Why can't I be a normal Class that doesn't have to worry about her Stats killing her?"
"Ruby, I… I don't know what to say."
"I can't fight," Ruby said. Wept. "I can't fight the Grimm. I'm too fast and my body can't keep up. Or my weapon." She looked to her scythe and I was suddenly struck by the realisation of why she hadn't named it. "I can't fight," she said again. "Because while I'll utterly kill the first Grimm I take a swing at, I'll die right after."
I didn't know what to say.
"And what happens if I keep gaining levels?" she babbled. "What happens if it keeps growing? If I get a thousand Agility, or two thousand? W-Will I even be able to live? Will I be able to perceive the world at all or will everyone be standing still like statues!? Or – Or maybe I'll move, but my brain won't be able to keep up. I'll be the statue; unable to move without killing myself."
"Then you won't fight," I decided. "You… I know it'll hurt, but I'm not fighting either. You can help me. Even if you only used enough speed to walk quickly, you could transport my Runes to the right places faster than anyone else could or deliver messages and orders. Getting orders to people faster than anyone else could; something like that could save more lives then a single scythe could hope to."
"B-But Yang," she wept. "And the others. They'll all be fighting."
"And we'll be fighting as well, Ruby. In our own way." I drew the Reaper into a hug, cradling her face against my neck and wrapping my arms around her. "I know it hurts," I said. "I feel the same way. I want to be up on those walls fighting with everyone, but I can do more for the people down here. You can, too. Making sure orders to retreat or advance get there on time. Delivering Rune-weapons to people who need them. It's not glamourous work, but it'll save lives."
It would save hers. I wasn't sure what would happen if Ruby kept gaining Levels. It wasn't a problem for anyone else, for as strong as someone might get, their other Stats at least kept up in one way or another. Ruby's didn't. Her Agility outstripped everything.
Finally, I understood just why she'd always called her Class `broken`.
It wasn't because it didn't make sense or broke the rules, but because the Class itself, by its very definition, would break its wielders. It was a Class that was unsustainable at a higher level, and Ruby had reached that by killing Raven.
"What Level are you?" I asked.
"N-Ninety-one."
Ninety-one. Gods. And I'd been higher level than her before the Mirage Isles. I'd not gained a single level in all our time there, yet Ruby had jumped up forty to fifty. Pyrrha had been right to worry. Raven must have been anywhere up to Level One hundred and thirty at the time of her death, for her Exp, split in half as it was, to have pushed Ruby so far.
"No more," I said, holding her close. "No more levels, Ruby. You'd struggle to get any now, I doubt there are any Grimm left who can give you any."
"There's one," she whispered.
"No. You're not going anywhere near her. You're staying here with me. I… I'll fix this. I'll find a way to fix it. I promise. I won't let you be consumed by your Class, Agility or anything else. We'll find a way around this somehow."
I wasn't sure Ruby believed me. I wasn't sure I believed me, but I held onto her nonetheless, rocking her back and forth as she continued to catch her breath, still exhausted from nothing more than the swing of her weapon.
Ruby's arms wrapped around my shoulders, holding on as she sought what little comfort she could in my being there. Her sobs broke off and her head rose from the crook of my neck.
Her lips met mine.
/-/
"Mr Arc." Glynda Goodwitch found me on the walls of Beacon, looking out over the city of Vale. "Your forge is ready for you. Ozpin has had supplies brought forth and has also commissioned people to ferry your completed goods to an armoury for you."
The sun was setting. I looked on at it and let out a sigh, wondering if the world would still look so beautiful once we were done with it. My thoughts were filled with concerns for Ruby. Concerns, but no answers, despite my best efforts.
There was so little I could do. I wasn't sure where to begin. A Rune? Could I make a Rune to inhibit Agility instead of boosting it? Could I craft some way of saving her? Or would Ruby be doomed to the inevitable end of her Class?
"Ozpin would not be upset if you waited until tomorrow…"
"No. It's fine." I turned away from the scene, away from my thoughts. "Does he have any specifications for me?"
"Spears. Or spearheads. We can have someone else attach them to the polearms."
"Why spears?" I asked.
"These weapons are most likely to be used by untrained people, and only if the situation calls for it." Both of us knew it would, and that the average person would be fighting and dying by the time this was over. "While any weapon is difficult to master, spears are the easiest to use when you're untrained. They can also be formed together into a phalanx with little training."
"I understand. These people… they're going to be weak, then?"
"I would be surprised if any were above Level twenty-five. Many will be below twenty."
Some would be below even the expected level for an entrant to Beacon. How terrifying, to be expected to face an invasion of Grimm at a level where even one might prove fatal. I knew they wouldn't be thrown into danger wilfully, and the spears would help with that. They could contribute from behind Heroes that could defend them.
"I'll just focus on stat boosts," I said. "Five Constitution won't mean much to an established Hero, but it'll be noticeable to a Baker or Farmer."
"Strength."
"Strength? Are you sure? They'll hit harder, but if they're caught by the Grimm, they-"
"If they are caught, Mr Arc, then no amount of Constitution will save them." She said it sadly, factually. The Warlock's eyes were as tired as I felt, and I could only imagine how much more work than me she had. Preparing all the defences, organising the students and dealing with all the work Ozpin was no doubt forced to offload onto her.
I wasn't the only one who was working beyond what a Hero wanted to. Ozpin and Glynda probably wished they could be on the front lines as well, but that wasn't feasible. They had grander tasks to focus on. As did I.
"Strength," I agreed. "Though I hope they'll forgive me it. How many will die that I could have saved with a Rune of Constitution?"
"As many as who will be saved because their spear slew the foe before they could reach them. There's no correct answer in war, Mr Arc. Only opportunity costs. If it helps, remember that it is Ozpin and I who have made this decision, not you. The blame lays with us."
It was an empty gesture and yet also a kind one, an attempt to alleviate my guilt. In the end, it wasn't necessary. As much as I hated it, I could understand where they were coming from. We couldn't win this war by outlasting the enemy. Salem could summon more and more Grimm. Our only hope was to slay her, and that would require Strength.
Strength, and a whole lot of people sacrificed to buy us a chance.
"Do you believe we can do this, Miss Goodwitch? Do you believe we can win?"
"I believe, Mr Arc, that I will not accept the possibility of defeat while I still draw breath. Anything else is not for you or I to decide. All simple people like us can do is fight our hardest and give our all. If that must mean we die so that others can strike the final blow, so be it."
"So be it," I echoed, drawing and releasing a long breath. "Thank you. I'll leave you to your rest."
Walking down from the wall and toward the main academy building, I found my new forge set beside the school itself. It was a small thing – as large as it needed to be given it was run only be me. It contained numerous barrels of water and oil, an anvil that shone and was unmarked, wooden racks for weapons, chests and crates full of metal and a simple forge, beside which sat several baskets filled with charcoal. A roof covered it all, supported by four wooden posts and numerous beams that criss-crossed above, secured to the side of Beacon for added stability.
There was a seat before the forge, upon which lay a wrapped container. Picking it up, I read the message on it, written by Ren.
`Food for a hungry blacksmith`.
I laughed and set it down. I'd need it once I got going and appreciated that they were thinking about me, even if they were probably exhausted from a day spent digging trenches, chopping logs and clearing away the Emerald Forest. The entire forest itself was being cut back several hundred metres and cleared out, the better to provide less cover for the approaching Grimm. The wood was also being used for fortifications elsewhere, and the Emerald Forest was a convenient, if dangerous, source of lumber.
Shovelling charcoal into my forge, I pushed in my hand to set it alight, then drew out an ingot of simple steel and held it in the flames, conserving my energy and letting it turn cherry pink the old fashioned away. It would be the difference between me forging fifty spearheads and several hundred. Even the simplest Skills could exhaust if used too often.
As the sun set on Beacon, I forged the first of many weapons.
That's it for book 8. The next book is going to be the final book, but it may well be almost two books in terms of length. Somewhere between 20 – 30 chapters, I think. There will be no update next week as I take a week off to aid in planning it.
Next Chapter: 17th June
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