No update next week as previously mentioned. Everything from normal from the week after.
People reading this story may well have had an interesting thought over the last few chapters; "How does Coeur intend to show the scale and scope of the battle if he's confined to Jaune's PoV? A first-person perspective means we're stuck precisely where Jaune is."
This is something I've been mulling over for a while, since while I obviously planned for this final battle to happen, I didn't think all the way to how Jaune would witness it. This chapter should help explain the solution.
Beta: College Fool
Cover Art: Dishwasher1910
Book 9: Chapter 9
"Mages to Constructs!" a Sentinel bellowed. "Mages to Constructs!"
All along the inner edge of the CCT Mages lay back on metallic beds, eyes closed, and faces pointed upward. Still like the dead, they lay there, yet as I entered the tower, I had to fight my way past metallic beings lacking in facial features that poured out. The Constructs were marching toward the wall, through streets of people who would be watching in awe and just a little fear.
I raced higher, pushing past Sentinels to scale the circular staircase to the top of the tower where the Archmage would be waiting. My heart was pounding. My footsteps on the metal floor echoed it. Whether it was the speed I was going at, that they recognised me or just that they were too focused on the battle itself, no one stopped me. I reached the top floor and pushed the metal door open, barrelling into the room even as Ironwood spoke to some spectral figure.
"Don't utilise the Constructs until the enemy is close. Let their numbers be whittled down through fire first. Defending the walls is our only priority."
"Yes, Archmage." The spectral figure fluttered out of existence.
Some kind of long-distance communication spell?
"Jaune." The Archmage smiled wearily my way. "I'm glad to see you here. Let us hope your intervention won't be necessary."
"Sir," Winter snapped, filing in behind me. "The augurs are in position and ready to be linked. I've provided as best a spread as could be achieved."
"And the CCT itself is targeted?"
"Yes. By two augurs. I thought the redundancy prudent."
I looked between in confusion but didn't feel confident enough to ask what they meant. My only role was to cast Purify Object on the tower if it came under attack. That said, I had no idea how I'd know if the tower was about to be hit seeing as there were no windows.
That question was quickly answered as Ironwood strode to the centre of the room, where a small crystal structure was housed in a metal pedestal. He reached a hand over it and closed his eyes. Cool mist a pale blue in colour seeped from his hand and over it, suffusing the crystal until it shone under its own power.
Suddenly, light burst from it, casting bright images over the walls and even my own body – a crystal-clear picture of a section of Vale's wall emblazoned on my chest, and behind me, my shadow cutting a shape into the full image. I turned in awe, realising that every part of the circular inner wall of the tower now contained a projected image of the defence of Vale. I could see everything in detail, from the people on the walls to the Grimm horde beyond.
"Behold, our augur system," Ironwood said proudly. It is how we shall monitor the battle. Pay attention to those two behind you especially." He pointed and I turned, seeing two side-by-side vistas of the CCT tower itself. It felt bizarre to be looking at it from the outside despite my being inside. "This is how we will see an attack coming and have time enough for you to react."
"These augurs; they are remote eyes?"
"In a sense. They are crystals imbued with a tiny sliver of Ironwood and linked through my magic using an array I shall not bore you in discussing. Each crystal is a facet, a child-shard, of this one here. Winter has strategically affixed these across the city."
High up by the look of it. The view angle was always looking down on the walls and not out from them. They were on the spires of buildings, or perhaps hanging from high walls within the city. One of the ones looking at the tower was perched on a tall balcony in Beacon itself, maybe even outside Ozpin's own office. It gave me a view of the battle I had been all but resigned to not seeing.
"Can they find specific people?" I asked.
"No. They can only share with us what they are pointed toward."
"No students of Beacon stand upon the walls in the first wave," Winter said, reading my concern and assuaging it. "Wall space is limited and prioritised to those who can best use it. The students are spread through the city and tasked with keeping the populace from panicking or roaming around. Some are guarding food storehouses in the event of rioting or some Grimm sneaking through."
Safe jobs. Important jobs. I didn't want to imagine anyone in the city would cause trouble like that, but I wouldn't put it past people to panic and do something stupid. Then, there was the chance of Grimm like Nevermore, who might just fly above the battle and attack the city. The guild could handle enemies like that with no problem. There was no need to worry about them just yet.
It would be a different story if the walls fell.
I turned to watch the augur facing out over the western wall, toward the greatest mass of Grimm and the spot where Ozpin, the King and I had faced Salem one month prior. There, I watched the horde of Grimm begin their advance toward the walls of Vale.
/-/
The defenders on the walls watched the Grimm approach with surprising calm. The parapet allowed for people to stand five deep in ranks and had been extended like the ones within Beacon, with wooden platforms doubling the width of the standing area. Rather than use that space to fit siege weaponry, it was instead packed with more Heroes. The quality of their weapon and armour, some shining or glowing with magic, made it clear that each and every person on the wall was of the Hero Caste, not the Soldier Caste.
On the fields below, the Grimm urged forth like a wave of black ink. They crossed the smooth plains outside the city and came upon the uneven ground that had been dug up outside. Their first obstacle was pits and hillocks, knolls and ditches dug wildly and without design. The uneven ground slowed their advance and may even have brought some low, but any that fell were swiftly swallowed by the horde and trampled to death. From such a distance it was impossible to tell. Even the type of Grimm could not be made out in any real detail.
The horde's momentum slowed – but not as much as a human army might have. They continued to push forward with little regard for the life of their fellows and soon the pits were filled with Grimm, some alive but crippled and reduced to little more than flooring for the others. They charged on, approaching the red flags stabbed into the ground on small poles and beyond it, the low wall of sharpened wooden stakes pointed outward and designed to slow or halt a cavalry charge.
On the walls, first rank of Heroes on the walls dropped to their knees. The second rank stepped behind them and the third stepped back. All three ranks readied bows of various shapes and sizes, the first two ranks aiming forward and the third upward.
The spiked barricade did not slow the Grimm.
They crashed into it. Those at the front were impaled immediately and those smashing into them from behind drove them deeper, fully puncturing the sharpened stakes through their bodies and causing yet more grievous wounds for those behind. The first Grimm died and, like all Grimm, faded into nothingness, clearing the stakes and allowing yet more to throw themselves upon them and die.
A man on the wall screamed something and flung his hand forward, throwing a torch off the wall.
The signal given, the archers loosed. Archers, Hunters, Rangers, Bowmasters and do many other Classes, even some Warriors who had simply chosen to specialise in the bow. Black-fletched arrows flew forward like an angry swarm, the first volley slamming into the front rank of the Grimm and killing yet more. The second rank's truck a few seconds later, finishing the wounded or even striking past killed and dissolving Grimm to hit those beyond. The third, arching high and above, rained down on those behind even them, felling less but wounding hundreds.
No sooner had the third volley fallen than was the first firing anew, arrows angrily whizzing from the walls at whatever pace the archers could fire them. There were no Skills used – not yet. The arrows that flew were mundane and pierced Grimm flesh, slaying hundred and even thousands, scything down ranks of weak Grimm that had slowed down in the face of not only the onslaught, but the wooden barricade they continued to die upon.
On one patch of the barricade, more Grimm hurled themselves on the spikes, faced with the prospect of death by those or death by arrows and deciding they feared neither. Canis jumped up into the spikes to die on them, pierced through their flanks, skulls or even mouths. Larger Grimm charged in behind, stabbing themselves on the spikes and then howling and pushing on, weathering arrows that slammed into their chests and shoulders. They pushed and pushed, forcing the wooden stakes through their own bodies and out the back.
Some of those stakes began to bend back, or to crack and shatter. The Grimm burst through one section – the monsters that had done so falling dead on the other side, spent at last, but allowing yet more to funnel through the gap and beyond the first barricade. Still, the arrows flew. Still, Grimm died by their hundreds.
The archers tracked the Grimm as they moved forward, adjusting their angles and peppering the front ranks, felling them continuously. The barricades began to break and shatter on other sections. The horde pushed forward, slowed and wounded, yet still innumerable. They rushed on toward the second barricade, intending the same, to burst through with sheer weight of numbers.
The arrows stopped.
Flames were lit along the walls. Mages, torches, braziers or just Archers with Skills of their own. Bows were raised, arrows burning bright in the foggy morning. At some unheard signal, the bowstrings snapped taut and flaming dots of light arched up and across the battlefield, stabbing down into Grimm flesh, into bone armour, into dying bodies and – some – into the straw straw that had been padded down between the barricades.
Fire roared to life. It spread quickly, burning its way across lantern-soaked straw and spreading left, right and even back. The entire section of ground between the two barricades became an inferno and Grimm fell upon it, tripping and burning, or flailing about in pained agony, striking one another. Those that tried to push through impaled themselves upon the barricades again and those that faltered were pushed down into the flames and crushed by those behind. The archers held fire, content to preserve their ammunition and see how many might die from the flames.
Hundreds, perhaps even thousands. The same was repeated all around the city of Vale, all three hundred and sixty-degrees as the Grimm encircled and rushed in from every side, all burning in a thick band of fiery land some fifty feet wide.
In the distance, an indistinct shape, Salem watched from atop her beetle-like Grimm.
More Grimm poured into the fires, uncaring for strategy or the concept of waiting for them to die out. More fell, and in their dying breaths snuffed out the flames, smothered them or just pushed the straw aside. The fires still burned but sporadically. The Grimm bodies disappeared, not adding to the fuel, and so the straw burned hot and bright, but eventually to ash. Clawed feet slammed down upon that and they hurtled themselves on the barricades again, several thousand fewer in number but ferocious and uncaring of it.
As the Grimm burst through the final barricade, slaughtering themselves in the hundreds for it, the archers upon the walls lowered their bows and stepped back, some standing on the back edge of the wall and others hopping off, agilely catching themselves on buildings or weathering the fall safely.
Mages stepped forward, robes billowing. Mages, Sorcerers, Pyromancers, Warlocks and all manner of Classes versed in the use of spells. Lesser in number than the archers, they formed a single rank along the wall, staves, wands and other assorted tools clutched in hand as they Grimm charged across the final few hundred feet uncontested, slowed by the uneven ground and spiked pits, but not stopped. Thousands of them filled the space between the wall itself and the second barricade, and when they struck the wall, they began to claw at it impotently, trying to pull it down with their claws.
Others hit them from behind, squashing their brethren against the wall and climbing up their backs to get at it. Without truly meaning to, and solely because they were becoming bunched up, the Grimm were making siege ramps out of their own bodies. Eventually, other Grimm would be forced by the press of bodies up and over the walls of Vale.
And then the spellcasters bathed the world in bright light.
Fire. Ice. Lightning. Other elements and even magic a thick purple that defied nature. The mishmash of colours and shapes streamed down from the spellcasters and across the Grimm, burning, frying, freezing, puncturing, dissolving and tearing apart the beasts. Explosions rent them. Great tendrils of light stabbed through them. Structures of ice were built and dropped upon them. Waves of fire fell down the walls and burst outward, splashing across the blackened grass and pooling out like liquid fire. Beyond that, the heavens opened up as lightning forked down to kiss the ground, tearing up huge chunks of soil and flinging bodies into the air.
Storms raged, winds howled, Grimm were picked up. More burned. Explosions, explosions, blasts of air, fire, ice, wind and ether. The lights, the colours, burning and blinding as Heroes recoiled and those in the streets looked up in awe at a rainbow of colours flashing above the parapets.
Grimm howled. Howled and died. In their thousands. In their tens of thousands. The outside of the wall, from the stone itself all the way back to the second barricade, was reduced to a charred vista of black grass and writhing bodies, some Grimm still alive but crippled beyond belief. Not a single one stood healthy and ready to fight within a three hundred metre radius of the walls of Vale.
And then the Constructs appeared, dropped from portals that opened up in the empty space above the charred, burning and frozen landscape. Their faceless bodies crashed down, some falling to their knees and others collapsing on their backs, sides or fronts. Artificial and piloted by those within the CCT, the metallic bodies stumbled and rose to their feet, arms ending in spikes, blades and axes.
They surged forward, putting to the blade any Grimm that remained.
The horde beyond roared angrily but turned held fast, choosing for once not to attack as Salem stood with one arm held up. The Constructs slew the Grimm that remained and marched back to the walls, standing inhumanly before them.
In the distance, at the three hundred metre mark, the flags on poles stabbed into the ground, fluttered on, a warning to the Grimm that death would come if that line were crossed.
/-/
"They did it!" I gasped, watching with awe and ready to burst out laughing. "They actually did it!"
"A good showing," Winter said warily. "But do not believe this over. The first assault was designed to probe our defences. Salem knows now what we plan and will surely adjust her battle plan."
Even with that, I couldn't help but shake, wanting nothing more than to thrust my fist into the air and roar at the top of my lungs, as I could see those upon the walls doing. Weapons were thrust high and people sang and chanted. I could hear it even from within the CCT, a dull roar that I knew from the Augurs came from victorious Heroes.
That cheer would spread across the city. Everyone in Vale would hear it and know that today the Heroes of Vale had stood strong.
"I wager thirty, perhaps forty thousand Grimm fell," Ironwood said, one hand rubbing his chin. "And none of our own, unless someone misfired or allowed themselves to fall from the walls. The Mages did well at the end."
Well…?
They killed tens of thousands of Grimm. The archers had done the same, but in no way with the same sudden brutality. It had been an absolute slaughter once the Grimm reached the walls. They had no cover, no way to escape the barrage of spellfire.
This is why the Grand Treaty existed, I realised. It wasn't to stop every Hero class fighting in a war, just the spellcasters. Alone, a sufficiently powerful melee Class could kill hundreds of people as Raven had, but if Raven had been a Mage, she could have annihilated thousands in a single attack. If the battle of Vale during the invasion of Mistral had come to a siege, the loss of life on both sides would have been untold. Mistral Mages would have had to assault the walls to bring them down, and a single spell missing and going over would run the risk of striking a building.
How many civilians would die in that case? Hundreds, maybe more. Mages were weapons of mass destruction and that had been unleashed upon the Grimm today.
"Our forces won't be able to keep it up indefinitely," Winter said. "I expect that even now the Mages who fought will be taking sleeping draughts to force them into rest."
"We're defenceless!?" I gasped.
"No." It was Ironwood who spoke. "That was not all our Mages utilised in the first assault. Have a little faith, Jaune. We have prepared shifts and rotating cadres of our finest. There will always be Mages upon the walls of Vale if we can help it. Just not in the numbers witnessed here."
"Our goal here was to secure an early victory and use blanketing attacks to wipe out the weaker Grimm," Winter explained. "If you noticed, Salem intentionally sent the smallest and most fragile against us, both to probe us and to clear out the traps and fortifications she saw being built. The more dangerous Grimm have been held back."
I had noticed it. There hadn't been any Ancient Grimm in the first wave, and I'd unconsciously known it was to prevent them wasting their value by dying on wooden stakes. "Did we overcommit, then?" I asked. "If they were weaker, wouldn't it have been better to let them fight us normally and save the Mages for the more powerful ones?"
"No. Even though they were weaker they were too numerous to let through. Your Heroes can stand toe to toe with bigger Grimm and strike them down but face them with a hundred smaller ones and some will slip through. You can only kill so many with a single attack."
And those that slipped through would overwhelm them with numbers. Death from a thousand cuts. Or worse, they would slip through into the lines of Archers and Mages, who were less able to fend them off – or even into the city itself. The other students would kill them before they could harm civilians, but the panic and confusion might have given Salem a chance to rally her forces and assault the walls while the Mages were too distracted to fend them off.
"Better the Mages use area of effect to kill hundreds of little ones," I said. "I get it. This was just about numbers."
"Yes. It's the same with the archers, too. Arrow fire like that isn't going to be much use when the real Grimm start to approach; it would take fifty arrows to fell a single Ursa. Better to let them get closer where the archers can make their shots count and aim for eyes or weak spots in their armour. Here, however, there's little risk in firing into the mass. Most of the Grimm out there died in a few hits."
Quantity against quantity, saving the quality to be used against quality. It made sense and I knew I'd feel safer fighting a single big Grimm if there weren't a load of smaller ones nipping at my heels. Canis weren't dangerous so much to me anymore, but if one were to bite down on my shoulder while I was fighting a Beowolf, that would still restrict my movement. Probably enough to get my killed if I couldn't kill the thing in time.
"What about the Constructs?"
"They will wait outside the walls," Ironwood said. "It is not only she who probes our methods. We've seen now how she intends to breach the walls. The Grimm will pile against it and form ramps of still-living bodies for their fellows to walk upon. We will have to do something about that."
"It doesn't look like she's figured out our involvement yet," Winter said. "The CCT should be safe for now."
"Should. I will not put it beyond her."
I knew what that meant. "Am I to stay here all the time, then?"
"No." Ironwood chuckled. "The main threat of attack to the CCT is while I am there, and I, like you, must sleep. Given the… importance of my survival, I have quarters in Beacon." He grimaced at the last, not at all pleased with what he'd said. "I will leave to take my rest now."
"Now!? B – But the battle only just ended."
"Hence why he must rest," Winter said, placing a hand on my shoulder as Ironwood marched away, eschewing the long staircase entirely and opening a portal that likely led directly to his chambers in Beacon. "Mages are not like you and I. Their minds tire faster than their bodies, particularly when using complex spells. The mental fatigue manifests as headaches, sometimes strong enough to all but paralyse someone."
Headaches? Hadn't I -? My second Class. It made so much sense with what I now knew. Continued casting drained reserves and the mental fatigue hit first.
"Get some rest," she told me. "I know it may feel impossible, but we will be rotating people out on very short shifts. Against an assault like this, no man can be asked to fight for four hours in one sitting, not an expect to survive. People will be shifted out of a fight every hour – or every two once we become desperate. Learning to nap in any available time is a skill you'll need to master. You never know when you will have another chance to rest."
"Is it safe now?" I asked weakly. "What if Salem attacks again and I'm not close enough to react?"
"What if she doesn't and you stay awake, exhausting yourself for no reason? Keep this on your person," she said, pushing a small stone token into my hand. "It will allow Ironwood to open a portal to your rough location. He will summon you if she begins the attack anew. For now, rest, eat and recover your strength."
/-/
"Did you see that-?"
"Amazing. Blew them away!"
"Like, pew-pew boom!"
"So many dead."
"Think of the Experience!"
"-not stand a chance. We're too well defended."
"Show her to think twice!"
I listened to the rest of the guild recounting the battle, chipping in occasionally to offer my bird's eye view account of it all. Despite Ironwood and Winter's words, I joined them in raving about Vale's performance. I'd have liked to say it was to keep morale up, but the truth of it was that I was hooked on the glory of the first battle and with Vale not having lost a single person, it was all too easy to feel high as a bird.
"I want to see the fight from the CCT!" Ruby moaned. "It sounds amazing!"
"It really was. I got to see every angle and every section of wall." I paused to spoon some of Ren's stew into my mouth and chew it quickly. "The Mages were incredible. The archers were good too, but the Mages stole the show."
"I was practically blinded from behind the walls," Blake said with a quiet laugh. "I can't imagine what seeing all those spells at once would do to your eyes."
"What were you all up to?" I asked.
"Guarding grain silos," Yang said, nodding to her, Pyrrha, Nora and Ren. "Coco was pretty much tasked with making sure nothing happens to the city's food supplies and we were working full scale on that."
"Message delivery," Ruby said for hers.
"I was kept on standby in case aerial Grimm approached," Weiss said. "I wasn't on the walls, but they've constructed some wooden towers far behind them. Had Nevermore been used, my job was to encase their wings in ice to slow them down or make them drop out the sky."
"You got to fight Grimm?" Yang groaned. "Lucky!"
"I didn't get to fight anything. It was a land-based assault. I barely even got a good view of that, either. The tower was shorter than the wall."
"Not much of a tower then. Is it?"
"What about you, Blake?" I asked, turning to her.
"I was tasked with watching the Salem cultists."
"What? Isn't that a little dangerous for one person?"
"Dangerous?" Blake snorted. "It's Labour Caste only with the Soldiers all busy, and I don't mean any offence when I say that. The highest level there was probably twenty at best. I'd have to be drunk to let them spot me, let alone catch me."
"Anything interesting?" Weiss asked.
"Nothing. They were doing weird prayers and chants – and believe me, I looked for evidence of sacrifices or a ritual, but it wasn't. They were just chanting her praises and how they are the `faithful` or something. They've turned a wealthy merchant's house into a temple, with the merchant the head priest."
I cursed along with the others, grumbling under our breaths as we ate. I hadn't thought anything could sour my good mood but that did a fair job. At least it wasn't news of anyone actually dying. That was good.
"What does Coco want you to do?" Yang asked.
"Just watch them for now. If they actually knew how to summon Salem, I'd step in and kill them." Blake shrugged, looking every part the Assassin she was. "I wouldn't even feel bad about it."
"You shouldn't." I said. "Civilians or not, if they tried to summon her in Vale, I'd want them dead."
"I don't think it would work anyway. Didn't she tell you the rules have changed, that she couldn't be summoned anymore?"
I wracked my memory. "She did…"
"She may have been lying," Weiss said, "But I see Coco's point in having Blake watch them. She can deal with them alone or disrupt such a ritual and call aid if she needed it. And Blake is one of the few people who could recognise such a ritual taking place."
"I saw we just storm the place and deal with 'em," Yang said. "Cut the problem off before it becomes a problem."
"That would cause panic," Ren said, "Not to mention it might incite them to violence. Frustrating as they are, they're harmless right now. Best to keep them that way."
They might not stay that way, but I trusted the others could put a stop to them if it got worse. As long as Vale was aware of the problem, they wouldn't be caught off-guard by it. I finished my food in time to hear bells tolling in the distance again and to rise to my feet.
The others tensed but remained seated.
"It's not our shift," Pyrrha said in explanation to my confusion. "Even if a battle takes place, we're to rest until sunrise tomorrow for our next stint."
That was fine for them, but I was stationed in the CCT and the Constructs would be fighting the Grimm that were approaching yet again. I bit my lip and waited, expecting a portal to appear at any moment. When it didn't, I grew even more nervous. Had Ironwood been attacked? Could he not open one when I was close to so many people? Was he making his way to the CCT first? Should I wait outside where there was more room?
"I'm going to check the CCT."
"Didn't Winter tell you to rest?" Weiss asked.
"Yes, but only until an attack happened."
"I think you should rest," Blake said. "They'll call on you if they need you. Go now and you'll only tire yourself out."
I sat, recalling Winter's words to the same. How could anyone sleep at a time like this, I wondered. The sounds of battle were distant but still there. I could hear more explosions as spellfire likely blanketed the lesser Grimm once more. If Salem was smart, she was likely feeding them into the grinder to tire the Mages out. A win for both sides, as her forces would be cut down by almost a hundred thousand while our Mages would need time to rest and recover.
"We can do this," Ruby said. "We… We're winning. If we can hold the walls, we can fight the Grimm off until there aren't any left. They can't even get close without the Mages blasting them away!"
It was true. They couldn't get close.
Which raised the question of why Salem continued to send the Grimm in, because if there was one thing I was certain of, it was that she wasn't an idiot.
/-/
When the portal opened the next morning I dashed through, expecting immediate yelling and action. Instead, I received the sight of Ironwood sitting down behind his desk and Winter adjusting the collar of her combat outfit. It was so mundane that I wasn't sure what to do with the sword I'd drawn. I sheathed it quietly, grateful they didn't comment.
"The battle raged through the night," Winter recounted, both for my sake and Ironwood's. "Current losses on our side are at forty-five, with well over two thousand times that number for the Grimm."
Forty-five? It was so small a number and yet each one was a person with a life, dreams and loved ones they'd be leaving behind. "How did they die?" I asked.
"Nevermore struck using the cover of night. Though they were dealt with, some fell, crushing people beneath them. Twenty of those who fell were Soldier Caste, fifteen Labour. Only ten Heroes fell."
"Labour? What were they doing outside!?"
"Moving supplies. They were supposed to be there. It was unavoidable."
"These numbers aren't sustainable on her side," Ironwood said. "There certainly appears to be an endless mass of Grimm out there, but we have two hundred and fifty thousand people in Vale. Even if most of those are Labour Caste, Salem will need tens of millions to breach the walls at this rate."
I couldn't hope to count the masses that stretched into the distance. Something told me there were over a million of them, but I couldn't say if there were more than two. Ten, though? That didn't seem possible. Not unless she created more, but even then, why waste so many now if she could make an endless supply of larger, better armoured Grimm?
"There!" I said, pointing. "It's her!"
Ironwood stood, following my hand and stepping around his desk to approach the wall I'd indicated. On it, the Augur looked out over the wall and the battlefield where the Grimm were still rushing forth and being destroyed on droves.
Toward the back, however, a pocket had opened upon among the Grimm. The large beetle Grimm roamed forward with Salem sat on the strange carapace-formed throne. She stopped a good hundred metres out from the ranging flags. Several arrows and spells rushed toward her regardless, people taking the opportunity for what it was.
Large Grimm with fan-like protrusions on their heads moved forward, flaring them to blast air at the arrows to knock them aside. One blocked a fireball with its body while a bolt of lightning hurtled toward Salem.
I held my breath.
Salem stood and waved a hand, dismissing it with ease. Ironwood cursed loudly.
Stepping to the fore of her beetle, Salem regarded the walls from a distance, her figure too small to make out in detail. She seemed to be looking at the defenders, at us, and considering something. The Grimm around her pawed at the ground and snarled, ready to defend their master to the last.
"I don't like this," Ironwood said.
"We cannot order people off the walls," Winter said. "It would all but let the Grimm over."
The people there were trapped. Mages still fired down on the Grimm, while some melee Heroes with spears jabbed at those who came close to scaling the walls, pushing them back and piercing through their chests and skulls.
Salem raised a single hand toward the walls.
"PURIFY!" Ironwood screamed.
I slammed my hands down, palms against the metallic floor – the whole tower was one piece of Ironwood. I pushed my power into it, eyes glowing as I cast `Purify Object`.
A bright white light flashed from the augur's view.
Something struck me. The tower shook. Pain roared down my arms and I was blasted off the floor with a scream. I hit the ceiling, body slamming against it. I fell to the floor, caught at the last by Winter who slid under me to break my fall.
My hands were smoking, my fingertips burnt. Every muscle in my body felt like shit and my head was ringing. Woodenly, I looked to the augur showing the CCT in time to see wispy tendrils of white smoke pooling off it. The tower glinted and held.
"D-Did it work?" I asked, voice slurred.
"Yes," Winter said. "The blast struck the tower and it held. Unfortunately…"
My eyes widened and roamed to the first augur, the one watching Salem. Her hand remained outstretched, smoke also coming from it. Before her lay a wasteland. Grimm had been annihilated; the ground churned up. Nothing lived, all caught in the blast. The devastation continued toward the wall and my heart fell.
The wall had been torn asunder. A section some hundred metres wide blown to rubble, and bodies strewn out on the ground before, on the wreckage and behind it, still and unmoving. The defenders nearby were paralysed, staring at the broken remains of Vale's defences. Defences Salem had blown open with a single spell.
Satisfied, the Goddess stepped back to her throne and sat, as fresh waves of Grimm poured forth.
Defenders did the same, metal shields clamped down behind the wreckage to form a makeshift wall, while others dragged bodies away and more poured forth with swords, spears and bows, ready for the brutal melee that would ensue.
We hadn't even been the target. The wall had taken the brunt of the attack, and the spell must have been aimed upward, travelling over the city and hitting us by mere accident. I felt sick, and not just from the pounding headache that threatened to overcome me. So many dead, so many more than the forty-five we'd lost through an entire day and night.
Why?
Why didn't Salem just kill us all now if that was the kind of power she wielded? Was this a game to her? Was that all we were? I slammed a hand down on the floor, tears plinking down onto living metal.
"Summon the Constructs," Ironwood commanded. "They are to block to hole with their bodies if needs be. And send in Penny. Tell her she is to seal the breach at all costs."
Winter saluted. "Yes, Archmage."
"Be strong, Jaune Arc," Archmage Ironwood said, planting his staff into the floor beside me. "There will be many more who fall before this is done, but we do their sacrifice no honour by faltering now. Stand. Stand, and be ready to ward off the next attack." On the augur, Salem raised her hand again, this time toward the tower. He could almost feel her idle curiosity. "It comes!"
Screaming, I slammed my hands down again. "Purify Object!"
My entire world burned.
Always kind of surprises me how few fantasy novels with mages or wizards consider how utterly bullshit they'd be in a siege environment. I feel like Warhammer Fantasy does it best or did before it became that Age of Sigmar nonsense. I always enjoyed in that how powerful wizards seemed. My Skaven Grey Seer casting Plague could kill fifty to a hundred models in a single cast. Or he could blow himself to smithereens and kill his entire bodyguard unit.
Fun times.
Here, the assorted power of several thousand Mages, both from Atlas and from Vale and Vacuo, is going to have a major impact in the early parts of the battle. Think aoe spells in any rpg, but cast not by your main character, but hundreds of them on a single stretch of ground. Absolute killing field.
Next Chapter: 26th August (Two Weeks)
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