Ah, that feeling when you forgot it was going to be a bank holiday so you left a portion of the work on a chapter on your work pc, thinking it wouldn't be a problem. Yep. That's me. Luckily, being in charge of the company I have the keys and access to the building, so I commuted to work and let myself in solely to pick up about 2,000 words of content.

Which feels silly since I could easily write 2,000 words in the two hours it took me, but there's something about being asked to write the same thing twice that makes you rebel internally. Anyway, all is well and here we are.


Beta: College Fool

Cover Art: Dishwasher1910

Book 9: Chapter 10


"The breach has been sealed – for now. Penny and the host are holding."

"What of the injured?"

"Sent to the healing camps."

"We need those spread out!" Ironwood barked. "Send a message to the front lines. If Salem has such artillery spells at her disposal, we cannot clump our healers and wounded in one location. At least ten different camps split over Vale."

"Yes, Archmage." Winter dashed from the room, though only far enough to shout the message to a Sentinel outside. The person rank on, booted feet clang-clanging against the Ironwood floor. As Winter returned, she glimpsed toward the Augur-based vision of the CCT. "It looks like she's chosen to stop attacking us. I wonder why."

"Curiosity sated, I would think." Ironwood hissed through his teeth. "We've been discovered on the first day of the attack. It's worse than I could have ever predicted." He looked to me, then sighed and turned back to the screens. "See to Arc. I need to speak with Ozpin immediately." He opened a portal with one hand, stepping through.

Winter came over to kneel by me and lay a hand on my shoulder. "Are you well?" she asked.

"I – Yes."

"Do not lie. I must trust you at your word and it lessens our odds of survival if you conceal your exhaustion from us. Lives depend on your honesty."

"My hands," I said. "They're burning." Turning them palms up, I let her see the red and blistered skin that dotted my palms and fingers, all the way down my wrist and stopping halfway toward my elbow. "I don't know why."

"Residual spell burn. It's a known issue among Mages." Winter took a canteen from her waist and unscrewed the top, pouring cool water onto my hands. I hissed in a combination of pleasure and pain, my hands simultaneously screaming in agony and relief. "It happens when someone casts a spell too exhaustive from them, but also when someone defends an aggressive spell – often while using barrier-based magics."

"I've never seen Weiss get this."

"That would be because Grimm don't use magic. Well, until now. I expect there was never a need for Weiss to use a barrier, if she even knows one. She would find it easier to make a physical barrier of ice and that's not the same. I suppose you would best understand it as a shield. Imagine you used a shield to stop a fire-based attack. Though you would block the fireball itself, the shield would heat up, potentially burning your hands." Winter took mine and gently worked my fingers. "That is what happens here. You are feeling the spell burn from blocking her attacks."

I wanted to ask why I'd never been warned about this, but the answer was obvious; I'd never bothered to look into or ask for tuition on magic. It had never been relevant. With the water washing through my fingers I could feel some tingling coming back, followed by more pain but of the aching variety. At least I could move my fingers again.

"What happens if I take too much?"

"Your hands will burn and burn until eventually you cannot cast. You will not die to it, but sooner or later you'll simply be unable to move your hands at all."

"The tower -"

"It is a risk we cannot avoid. Don't fret on what cannot be controlled. Simply do your best. She has stopped attacking us for now. I still don't understand why…"

I did. Or rather, I had a suspicion. "It's because she doesn't take this seriously."

Winter's head snapped to mine, her eyes narrowed.

"This is all a game to her. Or an experience. There's not a shred of doubt in her mind that she might lose, so she's not giving it her all. She could have blown our wall down from the start, but she didn't because she wanted to see what we could do."

"Like a child toying with the life of an insect."

"Yes." Insects certainly fit what she saw us as. "That's one idea, anyway."

"There is another?"

"Salem once told us before, when she'd been summoned, that it was not the quantity of negativity that drew her but the quality. You could sacrifice a hundred people to her but the deeper the emotional pain, the better. To the point that one person betrayed by someone they loved and trusted could be enough to summon her. This may be her way of… I don't know. Cultivating us?"

Winter's face twisted with disgust. Her lips peeled back, and she sneered at the nearest Augur, looking out over the battlefield toward where Salem was. "She is preparing us as a chef prepares a piece of steak. Is that what you are saying?"

"It's just an idea. But maybe. I figure despair would ramp up as the situation becomes more and more hopeless, but I might be reading into it. She could just be bored." I laughed, somehow amused by the fact I had the capability at all. Or maybe just the insanity of it all. "She waited until after we'd done a successful defence to knock the wall down. Maybe that's just how she is – easily bored and not wanting to see the same thing twice. She isn't human. What makes sense to us doesn't to her."

"An illogical creature whose cruelty we cannot comprehend, and who likely does not see it as such. How monstrous."

Winter dragged me to my feet and led me to Ironwood's seat, pushing me down into it. Since she didn't make a fuss of it neither did I. It was comfortable and soft, and I leaned back into the leather and closed my eyes. My head was pounding, my hands tingling and my stomach rolling. The latter was more to do with panic than fatigue or any physical punishment I'd received. I felt sick with doubt, afraid even to let my eyes rest for too long in case Salem launched another attack and I wasn't in time to block it.

A portal flared to life. Ironwood stepped through. I made to rise but he held out a hand to stop me and shook his head. He had no words for me and looked back toward the walls covered by Augur-cast images.

"Do we have an Auger overlooking the breach?"

"This one, Archmage," Winter said, pointing.

On the screen, the breach could be seen in all its horrifying glory. The wall had exploded inwards, with huge chunks of rubble crashing through buildings, some of them houses. The rooftops of those houses had always been blasted away and were smouldering faintly. Salem's attack had been aimed up, whether by luck or some twisted mercy – or more likely a desire to prolong the suffering – on her part. As such, a great chasm hadn't been cut through the city killing everything in its path. Had there been any civilians on the top floor, however, then they were most assuredly dead.

Around the breach and on ground level, Heroes and Soldiers worked together to drag injured and fallen away, hauling them toward portals and pushing them through, likely into the healing camps Ironwood had spoken of. In front of them, Soldiers formed a defensive phalanx with weapons and shields at the ready – but they went unengaged.

The Grimm had yet to puncture through the line of Constructs forming an inhuman wall within the breach itself. Side by side, silvery figures with bonelike limbs hacked and slashed with arms and legs at the oncoming tide of black fur. Blood flew and bodies fell, but the line was not pushed back. Had it been human, it surely would have. The sheer pressure of the Grimm would have forced a retreat, but the Mage-piloted Constructs did not care for their own lives.

They stood firm, hacking until they in turn were dragged down, and even then not once trying to back up or save their own lives. When one fell, another took its place. By virtue of their lack of fear, or lack of consequence, the Constructs held the line unfalteringly. Meanwhile, on the walls, Mages and Archers launched waves of attacks down into the mass, thinning the horde as it surged for the breach.

They were still defending against the rest outside as well, who attacked the walls and bunched up against them in their ramps of Grimm flesh. It was a battle on two fronts, at least for that long section of wall. Elsewhere, I wondered if the news of the wall being breached had even filtered through to the troops. Probably. It was hard to miss Salem's attack cutting a swathe across and over the city.

"Winter, take Arc to be healed. I shall hold the tower. See that my orders are being followed while you are there. We cannot afford to lose every healer in the city due to one stray attack."

"Yes, Archmage."

Leave? Now? I held back my protests, knowing the Archmage knew better how to use my time than I did. It was just like the night before. I had to sleep sometime, and I had to eat and relieve myself as well. There would be periods where we just had to pick my time away from the tower and hope for the best. Now seemed as good a time as any. If Salem was going to keep attacking, she wouldn't have stopped in the first place.

"Come," Winter said, helping me out the chair. "We've work to do."

/-/

"We're moving across the city right now. Tell Ironwood we received his warning."

The man who spoke was a Shaman, a Class I'd never seen before. He wore odd cloth and leather and was about my age or close by a year or two. He acted much older, holding himself with a confident, almost arrogant, air.

He ran his hands above mine and a feeling like soothing rain washed over my hands, tingling against my skin and cooling it like I'd dunked my hands in a bucket of ice. It was a wonderful feeling and I breathed out, closing my eyes as the pain finally slipped away. My fingers twitched, curling into a fist.

"Stop that," he snapped. "Palms up."

"Sorry."

"Don't waste a healer's time in a situation like this." He fixed me with a glare and then looked back to Winter. "We have split into six cadres to position ourselves in the city. One for each direction of the compass, one central and one in Beacon. It will set up close to your CCT. Each will be led by a professor of the College of Healing."

"Ironwood requested no less than ten."

"The Archmage may request what he likes. There will be six."

"I see." Winter's eyes closed. "As you will, then. It is your lives that will depend on it."

"We know what we are doing. You would not understand the nuances." The Shaman leaned back, pushing my hands away. "There. You are healed. Try to avoid coming back within the next twelve hours. Your wounds are nothing compared to some coming through to us now." He sneered at me. "If it was not a direct order, I would not waste my time with it." He stood. "If that is all? Or do you desire to waste my time more?"

"That is all," Winter said.

"Thank you," I added. The Shaman harrumphed and swept away, back toward the tents of purest white cloth inlaid with golden patterns. The healing camp was an ostentatious and obviously quite wealthy thing. The people there, healers of various classes, were decked in cloth and leather armour that was inlaid with gold and gems, and obviously very expensive.

"Healers," Winter scoffed. "The arrogance of their role goes to their heads."

"What do you mean? He just seems stressed to me. I would be if so many people were being hurt."

This was a siege, and the number of dead and dying would be through the roof. It was low now, but even I could see beds with people in them, moaning and groaning. The smell of blood was thick in the air despite the incense being burned from large braziers.

"This is nothing they have not seen before. Healers are… important. Too important." She sighed. "I know why, as you do, but every Kingdom lavishes them with praise, wealth and support. In many ways they are adored more than even the Prestige Classes. It is said a single Priest is worth more than ten Heroes of a similar level."

"Because they're a force multiplier, right? I've never quested with a healer, but I bet it's convenient."

Watts had been a problem for that, healing Torchwick over and over. The Thief hadn't been all that difficult to deal with but if he could recklessly endanger his life, secure in the knowledge he'd be healed, he had become so much more so.

"It's not unusual you have not seen many. They do not normally attend Hero Academies like Beacon. They go elsewhere."

"The College of Healing."

"Correct. The College of Healing is a singular school attended by healing Classes from every Kingdom. It has its own treaties, like the Grand Treaty but more robust. Wealth from all four Kingdoms flows into it, along with the finest teachers and the most promising Soldiers to act as their guards. Every student is told exactly how important they are, how far the Kingdoms will go for them and made to fully believe they are irreplaceable." She grimaced. "And they are, sadly. Arrogance born of reality. Even a King would think twice on ordering a healer around."

"Sounds like you've got experience there."

"I have had the displeasure of questing with a healer before, yes. A few, in fact, and all have been the same. They bring with them a cadre of servants and bootlickers, not to speak of the look on their faces if you ask them to do a single chore around camp. It is a trying experience."

I didn't have the same first-hand knowledge to counter her. I'd seen Tsune fight against Watts alongside Glynda, and Beacon's resident Priest – or Priestess – was friendly enough, but that was probably the difference between a college-based healer and one who wasn't from there. I recalled Glynda mentioning that she and Tsune had fought together before. She must have been one of the rare healer Classes who chose not to attend the College of Healing.

Either way, there was little we could do about it now. If they wouldn't split into ten groups on the command of the Archmage of Atlas, I wasn't sure if they would do the same for Ozpin. And certainly not for me.

"Maybe six will be enough," I said.

"Perhaps. But if one falls, we will lose a sixth of our healers within Vale. Two, and we are down a full third. Still, what's done is done. We will simply have to hold faith in their ability to look after themselves."

"Salem might target them if she knows where they are."

"She would need to cut through many Heroes to reach them," Winter said. "Knowing their wounds can be patched up, those defending the healers will all but give their lives in their defence." She scoffed. "That will surely feed their blasted arrogance all the more."

Definitely something personal between her and the healers. I wondered if it was to do with her parents, or even the scar down Weiss' face. I didn't feel comfortable asking, nor was it the right situation to do so. A fresh wave of bloodied Heroes were brought through portals. My eyes grew wide when I recognised one as Ruby and Yang's father, Taiyang Xiao-Long. He was clutching a hand to his stomach and grimacing.

"Will he -?"

"Back." A Paladin shoved me in the chest, forcing me to stumble away. "Do not approach the wounded while we work. Or do you think your concern more important than our time? Time that could be spent saving the lives of people like you?"

"N-No, I-"

"Good." The Paladin swept away, his gold-tinted white cloak slapping me across the face. Over his shoulder, I saw someone running their hands over Taiyang's torso. Golden light suffused him, and his expression eased.

He would live, I hoped. I'd be able to pass the good news on.

"Let us leave," Winter said, holding my shoulder. "And do not allow them to make you feel guilty. They revel in that, and the worship of those they heal. It feeds their egos and the mythos that they are better than you. Considering your own situation, I expect you're used to that."

Heroes seeing themselves better than the useless `NPC's`. I nodded, turning away from the healers. Let them finish their task; it didn't involve me. Mine was only to defend the CCT so that people wouldn't need to be hurt in the first place. In a way, that was better, though I doubted any of these people would thank me for it.

It was enough my friends did.

/-/

Everyone was alive.

I wasn't sure why I'd worried seeing as the walls were still holding and none of them were on the front lines, but I did. Judging from how each looked to me and relaxed in turn, I wasn't the only one doing so. Dinner for the evening was a feast once more. Velvet seemed determined to make every meal such.

Out of all of us, Ruby and Weiss looked the most exhausted.

"Just running," Ruby panted, slouched so far into Yang's shoulder she was disappearing behind a curtain of golden hair. "Lots and lots of running messages."

"Spellcasting," Weiss echoed. "No immediate danger, but hurling spells up and over the walls in the hopes I hit something on the other side."

"Hard to miss," Ren pointed out. "They have students fighting if you're a Mage, though?"

"Fighting is a loaded term for what I'm doing. I'm nowhere near the front lines. But a Mage is a Mage. If I can cast a spell, I can throw it over the walls. Better than nothing. There were Archers, too. It wasn't just us Mages."

I supposed it made sense they do something, and even if the damage they caused was minimal it might slow the Grimm down or soften them up. Weiss looked mentally spent, however. The way her fingers kept curling into a fist and opening, not to mention how her eyes would blink slowly and then take time to focus. Her body was there but her mind was elsewhere. Yang had to forcefully close Weiss' hand around a mug of steaming juice.

"What sorts of messages do they have you running?" Pyrrha asked Ruby. "If you're allowed to tell."

"I think it's fine. It was moving the healers today. They're spreading out. I had to run ahead and tell Soldiers to make space for new camps, then run back and lead the healers to them."

"That reminds me," I interrupted. "I saw your father be wounded. He looked okay, though."

"Hm. I saw him and talked to him." Ruby smiled at me to say it was okay. From the lack of reaction, she'd already told Yang. "He said he got caught by the horns on some bull Grimm while he was pushing another one off the wall. It didn't go deep, and he was pulled back into the ranks before the Grimm could do anything more. They shipped him into a portal before he knew what was happening."

"Sounds efficient."

"Every Hero is a resource," Ren said. "No offence to your father, of course. We can't afford to let any fall for free. Each Hero will probably need to tally at least a hundred Grimm if we're to hold."

I felt like saying the Mages alone had already done that. Weiss might have killed that many, though it depended on what kinds of spells she was throwing around. Certainly those in the initial defence had killed thousands. It would be harder for Classes based on melee, however. Going toe to toe with the Grimm, each one was a threat to be taken seriously.

So far, I had a grand total of zero. It didn't feel good.

"Nothing to report on the cult's ends," Blake said, sipping some chicken into broth beside me, catching the dripping liquid in her bowl as she brought it up to bite into. She swallowed before speaking again. "They took to chanting her name when they saw the spell hit. I think they call those who perished to it `blessed` or something. With any luck, they'll go get themselves killed."

"Is it bad that I actually wouldn't mind that?" I asked.

"Hah." Blake nudged me and grinned. "I think it would be worse if you didn't."

Our sense of humour was becoming morbid. Was that expected? Maybe. "How is Sun doing?"

"He and the Vacuo lot are being held back," Pyrrha said. "Apparently, those from Vale don't fully trust that their people can fight on the level of Heroes. None of them attended an Academy so from our point of view they're all failed Hero Caste, currently Soldier Caste."

"That's stupid," Nora said. "We've seen them fight."

"Yes, but our allies haven't, and wall space is limited."

"It's fine. We'll all get our chance when the wall falls. I wouldn't worry about getting impatient."

We all turned to Yang at that, affected by the cynical words. "You think it's a given?" Pyrrha asked.

"Don't you? You saw what she did to the wall – and with one spell. She was hardly collapsing afterwards, either. She fired off, what, two, three more? All aimed at the tower."

"Four in total," I confirmed.

"Exactly. Those extra three could have been aimed at other sections of the wall. We could have four holes to deal with instead of one. And honestly, I don't think we've seen anything too impressive from her."

"She blasted down a wall with one hand," Nora whispered.

"True, but we've seen her do worse. Haven't we? Where is another Merlot? Where's the Grimm Dragon Jaune and Ruby saw in the Mirage Isles? Hell, even walking closer to the walls would have people struggling to move thanks to that aura of hers."

"The Heroes on the walls are high level," I said. "They should be fine."

"Yeah, but those behind it aren't. Soldier, Labour, even some of our own students here. They'd all be paralysed. And even if it doesn't force the Heroes down, it might slow their reactions. Only take a few hours of that for the Grimm to get an advantage."

Salem was toying with us. I knew it – had even told Winter it before – but she was doing so in ways even I didn't fully understand. Our walls were the biggest advantage we had against the Grimm and Salem was allowing them to stand. The only barrier between a structured defence and Grimm running rampant through the streets was the whims of our enemy.

The rest of dinner was spent in silence, at least on my part. Only Nora, Ren and Pyrrha found the strength to talk and I embraced myself in it, letting them do the speaking so I wouldn't have to. As long as it cut off the distant sounds of combat, I didn't care. Before long, however, there was nothing more to say, no matter how hard we tried.

Blake and I retired together but neither of us had the spirit to do anything with our privacy. We laid down together and allowed our hands to link, then tumbled away into our dreams.

/-/

Nevermore flew high over Vale, clutching black objects in their talons.

"I want Mages on the back three lines focusing on them," Ironwood said to someone through a portal. "Whether they are rocks or Grimm, I want whatever they carry incinerated. Hunt down any remnants. Have the word spread that any sightings are to be reported but not approached."

The Mage on the other side bowed and the portal closed. Ironwood came back to the centre of the room, sitting down and fixing his hands upon the desk, watching the augur view of the sky above Vale.

If they didn't want to go through the wall, they could go above it. I'd expected that to mean Nevermore attacking the defenders, but Salem had something else in store. It was much too great a distance to make out what the Nevermore carried, but even if it was just a rock it would impact fatally on anyone it touched.

Why, then, did the Nevermore cluster above the city itself and not the defenders by the walls? More terror tactics? Did Salem intend to drive the populace mad before she reaped her tally of human lives? I stood nearby, helpless and with my hands clenched into fists. After her failure to bring down the tower yesterday she hadn't tried even once today. My Skills had been useless. Or rather, not useless – because my presence here was probably what stopped her trying – but I felt idle. I wanted to be out there doing something.

But the second I leave, Salem brings the CCT down. I'm needed here.

"They're dropping!"

My attention snapped back as Winter shouted out a warning. The Nevermore had always been circling high above but now black objects were sailing down like meteors. Our attention split to another view, one that showed the actual vista of the city and from which the objects would come crashing down onto.

The first struck a building and exploded. The object, that was, not the building. Rooftiles shattered and debris flew but whatever it was failed to puncture through the roof. Instead, it blew up in a fleshy mass of… well, it looked like flesh.

Another struck nearby, missing the buildings entirely and impacting the street. Another blast, this time of gore and viscera – as if a cow had been dropped from a great height. I saw what looked like blood and gore, along with people running for their lives. Fleshy or not, the bombardment was just that and doubtless killed anyone unfortunate enough to be struck by it.

"What is the point of this?" Winter asked out loud. "If impact was the sole goal, a rock would do just fine."

"There is more to this, then. I want a sample of whatever that material is. Have someone – wait…" Ironwood stud suddenly and moved closer to the wall. "Are those Soldiers fighting in the streets? Are they fighting one another?"

It looked like they were. Though too small to make out, the people were definitely swinging their weapons about. For a second it looked like they were attacking each other, and I had the horrifying image of attacks that could drive people mad.

And then I saw it. Some… thing that was small and quick, but black. Black in the unmistakeable way no skin colour – nor anything natural – could be. The raw, pitch black of something inhuman. There were Grimm among the people. Small and difficult to make out, but the Soldiers were fighting them back. Or some were. Others were dragged down.

"No!" Ironwood surged to his feet. "If Grimm attack from within, it will be a slaughter!" He waved his hand and a portal was cut into the air before us – one I saw mirrored close to the position on the augur's image. "Go! Reinforce them! Let none of those Grimm escape into the city!"

Winter was already moving.

I hesitated. "What about if Salem attacks?"

"I will be with you. If she destroys the CCT, I shall reform it. It is my life we protect, not the tower's."

That was all I needed. My blood surged as I charged through the portal and out onto the other side. There was a drop. I hit the floor, rolled, drew Crocea Mors and stood, hearing Ironwood's boots echo down behind me. Fear ran through me, panic and tension, but also a joy and euphoria I couldn't quite dismiss.

I was here. I was fighting.

And it felt good.

A bell was tolling wildly – one we couldn't hear in the tower. Reinforcements were being summoned even as more of the black masses hurtled down from above.

"Shield!" Ironwood yelled, stamping his stave down and aiming one hand upward.

A shimmering wall of light appeared between us and the object, which smashed into it and exploded in a rainbow of colours. The splitter splatter of gore rained down like hail, sliding grimily off the shield and onto the cobbles. Most of it was dead flesh and, like the Grimm, began to dissolve into nothingness.

But there were other bits that kept moving. Little black masses like worms that twisted and convulsed on the floor. One split open on its side and a tiny Grimm creature burst forth, tiny mandibles stretched as it screeched toward the sun.

Winter's boot stomped down, the heel piercing through its tiny carapace.

"The chrysalis!" Ironwood called out. "Destroy the chrysalis!"

The term was familiar, but I didn't recognise it. To be fair, I didn't have to. Destroy the obvious little black worm things before they hatched. I charged forward, into the panicking soldiers who were stabbing with spears and swords, trying to hit things far smaller than they were used to dealing with. A man roared in pain as one of the small insectoid creatures proved itself more dangerous than its size suggested, latching on and burrowing into an exposed piece of flesh between his shoulder and armpit. Its tail wiggled as it tried to dig into him, working almost half its body length inside.

His partner saved his life. Stabbing a dagger into the thing's thorax and dragging it out, throwing the dagger and the Grimm impaled on it to the floor. It had a chunk of bloody flesh in its mandibles and the wounded soldier fell back sobbing, carted away by others to I hoped a healer.

"Fucking beast!" the one who had drawn it out howled, slamming the butt of his halberd down.

The thing was killed with a nasty crunch.

I batted one aside as it lunged for me, hurling itself up off the floor with inhuman strength. It hit a wall and exploded. Another latched onto my boot and tried to dig through, actually managing to tear off some leather before I kicked it away and stomped on it. A third, larger and growing rapidly, was trying to pull itself out of its cocoon. Crocea Mors stabbed down, crushing its head as it hissed and bared its mandibles at me.

An explosion rocked the street. Smoke and bile and dust was kicked up and I almost fell over. Someone did and immediately began screaming as the things slithered over him. Soldiers rushed to rescue him, but it was too late. The man's cries became silent and his struggles still. Gritting my teeth, I looked to the left, seeing that another of the sacks of flesh had struck the building, crashing into it and exploding inside.

Terrified screams came from within.

"Clear the building!" I roared. "Get the people out!" The door I found was locked. I pushed hard on it once, then growled and threw my weight at it, tearing the damn thing off its hinges. Immediately, a woman carrying a child was upon me, babbling wildly. "Get out," I said, pushing her past me and into the hands of a soldier who all but picked her and the child up, hauling them to safety. "Anyone that can hear me, get out of the building! Follow my voice!"

Another cry, shrill and horrifying, came from above. I ran to the stairs and up them, hearing soldiers bundle in behind me. A young boy met me halfway down, eyes wide and tears streaming down his face. He crashed into me, almost fell, scrambled up and by without a word. I let him go, dragging myself up the rest of the way.

A hiss and a screech was my first warning of the boy's pursuer. I caught the horrible little thing in my hand and winced as it bit down, instantly trying to burrow into skin. A brief flash of Stoke the Forge put an end to that. It popped like a gory little balloon, spraying ichor and blood out in front of me. I pulled a torch off a nearby sconce and held it in my bleeding hand, clutching my sword in my right and moving forward, toward the open room I could see smoke and debris lingering from. No screams, though. Not anymore.

I saw why a moment later. Two bodies. Their features were indistinguishable. Both wreathed in black chitinous creatures and covered in blood. I wasn't sure if it was a mercy they had died so quickly or not. It felt a mercy I didn't have to see their faces.

The floor creaked underfoot. Thirty little sets of mandibles screeched at me, several more of the things bursting from pockets of bulging skin and blood. Gagging, I swept the torch before me, making it whoosh in the air.

The things shied back.

I'd been right. They were weak to fire.

Weak, but unafraid. While they shied back initially, they refused to leave the body and lunged forward when I came too close. I knelt, holding the torch before me like a shield. The things crackled and popped when they came close to it, splattering in little explosions of blood and pus. Not one of them survived.

I looked down at the bodies. There could be more of them inside.

With a grimace I felt somewhere deep inside, I knelt and held the torch to their flesh. Whether it was the slime and pus left behind by the flammable Grimm or something else, the flames took hold quickly and the bodies burned.

Outside the hole burst through the wall more black masses of flesh rained down. This time, they were met by fire that arched up, snakes, whips and constructs like birds, all controlled and seeking out the artillery before it could hit, bursting the sacks that contained so many of the wormlike Grimm and burning them alive. The fiery remains crashed down nonetheless, but as horrible as it sounded, we could deal better with fire than parasitic Grimm.

Yang, Pyrrha, Nora and Ren arrived on the street below, followed by more and more student Heroes from Beacon, taking the place of the wounded and battered Soldier Caste in the fight against the Grimm parasites.

Looking back at the merrily burning bodies behind me, and knowing yet more could be in the house, I tossed the burning torch behind and leapt out the ruined wall. My boots crunched down on the street below, crushing any number of the Grimm. They barely even have any Exp. They were a bigger threat to the typical civilians. Such was what made them a threat.

"Nasty little fuckers," Yang hissed. "Any tips?"

"They're weak against fire."

"Yeah?" Grinning, Yang ignited both her fists, her eyes flashing red and her hair glowing gold. "Then I think I'll be okay." She rushed in, heedless of the second warning I would have added had I the chance.

That they exploded when set alight.

Yang's furious scream said she'd figured that out on her own.

"Contain the Grimm!" Archmage Ironwood called out. "Leave the bombardment to the Mages. Soldier Caste, stop the fires from spreading and evacuate all people. Quarantine them. Do not let them spread until they have been checked for parasites!"

Carriers. I hadn't even thought about that. And I'd let the boy and the mother and child from earlier run by without a thought. No. If there were any Grimm in them, we would know soon enough. These things hadn't been subtle. Voracious monsters, they tore their prey apart quickly.

"Don't let them bite you. They burrow their way inside."

Ren grimaced. "Delightful."

Under a sky of raining bundles of burning Grimm flesh, and above a sea of writhing black worms that sought to consume our own, we charged forward, crushing the masses beneath our heels and swinging our weapons before us. And outside the walls, the siege raged on.

What next, Salem? What more do you have for us?

I had the sinking feeling I'd find out.


You know, I always thought of these Grimm ever since Cinder showed the one in her hand – which I named Remy in White Sheep. In the show they're seen as symbiotic with Cinder, but I couldn't help but imagine them like those scarab beetles from the Mummy movie, a tidal wave of devouring little creatures that tear through skin and burrow into the body.

Ugh. Nasty. I guess they wanted to avoid that for obvious rating reasons. Can't say I blame them on that front.

xD


Next Chapter: 2nd September

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur