Well, this weekend was fun. Spent a lot of it at my father's house because he's trying to build a fishpond for his koi. Had a small one before but he's building it bigger. As you can imagine, the whole weekend was one instance of flooding after the next. Leaks, banks falling down, filter problems, electricity issues and, at one point, a heron coming down to try and kill the fish being kept in a separate pool. Came back soaked, exhausted and with my feet wrinkly and sore.

What a time to be alive.


Beta: College Fool

Cover Art: Dishwasher1910

Book 9: Chapter 12


I couldn't believe it. One night. One night! That was all it took for the storehouse Pyrrha and I protected to go up. I sprinted down the road with Winter at my side, Coco and Yang catching up as we left the gates of Beacon and entered Vale, where motes of red light floated above the rooftops from a fire burning merrily in the centre of the city.

Was this my fault for letting the protestors get away with it before?

"Teams spread left and right," Coco barked to those with her. "Secure the area and prevent the spread of the fire. Hunters, with me!"

Yang and I followed her orders even if she was a lower level than both of us. Coco's experience in leading was greater and we knew that. We burst onto the street in time to see students fighting against Labour Caste, putting them down with ruthless efficiency. The battles weren't equal – the Labour Caste were nothing more than civilians.

Even so, to see it like this.

"What are you doing?" Coco yelled. "Secure them. Don't kill them!"

"They're already dead!" a student yelled, parrying a sword to the side and thrusting his own through a woman's sternum. She buckled and bent over him, groaning as he slid the weapon free. She hasn't looked dead. Making sounds, fighting and reacting to pain.

And then her skin rippled. It bulged out and the student cursed, hopping back and dragging a flaming torch in front of him. Skin expanded and splintered, spraying blood out onto the street as a black wormlike creature burst from the woman's body. It landed on the stone floor and screeched at the fresh air, turning slowly to us - as though it could smell the blood in our bodies.

"Fleshborers!" Coco screamed, unhooking her bow. She nocked an arrow instantly and whispered something. Her eyes flashed and the arrow caught fire, loosed a second later to strike the downed body and explode in a burning ball of fire.

The Fleshborers were roasted alive.

Across the battle, I suddenly saw the presence of torches and fire spells, Skills and enchanted weapons, all being used where fire was involved. That wasn't a coincidence as I'd first thought. The people were carrying Fleshborers.

"What's happening?" Coco demanded, grabbing the student she'd saved. "Give me a report!"

"We were attacked." He panted, but forced himself to speak, shoulders rising and falling. Blood soaked his armour, but it didn't look like his. "We went to reinforce the guards at the storehouses just like you said, Coco, and we had these people approach." His eyes were wide and frenzied. "We thought it was more people demanding food. Didn't think anything of it. Ellayne went to talk to them – to try and diffuse the situation."

Ellayne? My blood froze. "Where is she-?" I hissed.

"Storehouse." Seeing my concern, he added, "She's alive. Or was last I saw. The civilians attacked but they were just that. Caught her by surprise but not enough surprise. They're mad, I tell you. Untrained but with no regard for their safety. They just run in hacking. And when they did, those fucking things come pouring out!"

How? We cordoned off the ones that landed and killed them all. The Healers checked everyone who came out to make sure they didn't have Fleshborers inside them, and it wasn't like they could have snuck by. The things tore people apart from the inside.

"How can they walk and fight with those things eating them inside out?" Yang asked.

"T-They don't seem to. Not until you kill them anyway. No wounds, no blood and no pain to speak of. And they're not `controlled` either. They shout things. Insults, threats and devotion to fucking Salem of all people. One or two were even captured so they still have their minds. Those things didn't come out the captured ones."

"They need blood," I said. "Don't let them be wounded." I grabbed Coco's shoulder. "The only way the Fleshborers could be inactive is if they're somehow on or in the people in a dormant state. They wake up when they sense blood."

"Fuck." Coco winced and pulled away from me, hooking her bow back behind her and drawing a long dagger. "Pommels, fists and blunt weapons, boys," she yelled. "The Grimm come out if you cut them. Disarm and beat them down instead!"

Yang cracked her knuckles. "Heh. Sounds perfect."

I steadied the student as they ran off to join the melee. He had to be a first year because he looked as old as Ellayne, and far too shaken from what happened. "Who set the fire?" I asked. "Did they burn the food?"

"No. It was Ellayne. She said we had to burn it."

She had-? Why? "Stay here," I said, standing him against a wall.

"I can fight!"

I ignored him, running ahead myself but leaving Crocea Mors sheathed. If he could fight, he'd catch up, but if not, he'd be safe. The students were reacting to Coco's barked orders, some reversing their weapons and others sheathing them entirely, using fists and trusting in their inflated Stats to see the job done. Those that weren't dealing with bleeding or exploding people disgorging Fleshborers left and right, that was. I kept my eyes on the burning storehouse, making my way there.

"Infidel!" a man howled, appearing in front of me. "You shall not stand in the way of-"

My fist caught his cheek. A sickening crack echoed as his entire head bent to the side, neck snapping under the force of my Strength. He didn't so much fall as be launched aside to crash into a wagon and crumple to the floor, dead as a doornail. His body remained still, even after I paused to watch it. There might have been internal bleeding from what I'd just done, but it obviously didn't reach the Fleshborers.

Kept in their pockets or clothing, maybe? I need to mind my Strength, though. Knock people out. Don't kill.

Easier said than done. When someone charges you from the side with a pitchfork aimed at your ribs, you tend to react. I did so by catching the thing by the head, stopping the barbs a few inches from my skin. I twisted and jerked the weapon to the side, wrenching it out the woman's hands. Unbalanced, she stumbled forward and I stepped in, tossing the weapon away and gripping her wrist.

A swift twist broke it and drew a ragged scream from her. A `gentle` blow to the stomach folded her in two. I couldn't be sure she was unconscious or acting it, so I paused to tear a strip of cloth off her skirt and use it to tie her hands, leaving her behind. For all their brutality and their apparent lack of self-concern, these people were still Labour Caste. Not even Labour Caste like me who had fought and levelled up through combat. They were untrained, undisciplined and low level. They didn't stand a chance against me or Yang, and they didn't against the students either. Not once they realised how to stop the Fleshborers pouring out.

I reached the storehouse in time to see Ellayne with her sword in a half-sword grip, both hands on the blade as she swung the guard and pommel like the point, driving a clumsy spear aside and then sweeping her weapons up into a man's gut. He stumbled, unprepared for her to bring the pommel around and strike his head. Unconscious or dead, he fell in a heap. Blunt end or not, that was still a blow to the skull with a Hero's Strength.

"Ellayne!" I rushed up. Her eyes met mine, flashing slightly in the light and then fading. She managed a weak and shaky smile. I swept her up, dragging her face into my chest. "You're alive," I whispered. "I was so worried." I pushed her away, suddenly afraid. "You are okay, right? The Fleshborers didn't get you."

"Not my flesh," she panted hoarsely. She held up her left hand, showing a hole bored into her glove, right through leather. "It was close, though. Killed the first without thinking and those things poured out. They attacked the others too, and that caused more to come." She gasped and sagged into me. "If it wasn't for Lacey casting a fireball, I'd be dead."

I had no idea who Lacey was but promised to send them a gift basket. Or make them a weapon – that would probably be more appreciated right now. "What about the storehouse?" I asked. "A person said you set it on fire." I kept any note of condemnation out my voice. "I take it there was a good reason for that."

"Someone got in." Ellayne pointed, then, seeing the fire engulfing the whole building, let her arm fall. "He was the leader, I think. Stayed back when everyone fought and rushed in when we were distracted. Hooded and robed in black with a handheld cage. It had those things in it, but they were docile or asleep. I chased, but by the time I found him he was already hiding them in the food."

"So you burned everything down to stop them spreading." Extreme, but given the circumstances I wasn't sure I could fault her. "What about the guy?"

"He was a Soldier. Not strong, but enough not to be knocked out. He stabbed himself when he was losing and keeled over. Then those things poured out among the food." She shook her head, wild and wide eyed. "That's when I burned the place down. They were everywhere. So many of them!"

And if a single one had hidden within a barrel of grain and gotten to a refugee camp – if it was active or could be brought to that state – it would be a massacre. "You did the right thing. Tell Coco and she'll understand. You can rest now. We're wrapped the fight up."

It was all but over. The last remnants of defiance held out as some of the mad people followed the example of Ellayne's and, realising they weren't going to be killed, fell on their own weapons instead. Fleshborers poured out of them but Coco and the others were ready this time and blasted them away with fire before they could get anywhere close.

"Is that the last of them?" Coco yelled. "Shout out! Any more of these bastards!?" Apart from the crackling and burning off the storehouse, silence was her answer. "Good. New people reinforce the old – get the injured back to Beacon unless they're critical, in which case escort them to a healing camp. Everyone else, secure the area and check the bodies. Not even one of these maggot things escapes. Someone show me to the prisoners."

"Will you be okay?" I asked Ellayne as some of her friends came up, bruised, haunted and covered in blood.

"Y-Yeah. I'll be alright."

"You did good tonight." I gave her another solid hug before I let her go, trying to show how proud I was. I think she caught it, even if she still looked far too shaken by what she'd had to do. Her friends supported her out, whispering quietly between themselves.

I made my way back to the rest.

"She okay?" Yang asked, nodding Ellayne's way.

"As well as she can be considering she had to kill people. I'd have preferred to talk to her more and properly look after her but…"

"Yeah. I get you. No time to be gentle right now." Yang nodded toward Coco and four prisoners tied up on the floor. They weren't the only ones, but they were conscious, unlike the one I'd knocked out. "Come on. Let's see what these bastards have to say."

"You reap what you sow!" a man spat, spraying spittle and forth over Coco's boots. "You brought this ruin upon us with your crooked ways and now She comes upon a chariot to bring justice to the faithful and devastation to the disbelievers! We will be reborn! Reborn to new Classes, new Castes and a new life! You will have nothing!"

"Yeah, that's real nice and all." Coco rolled her eyes and planted one hand on her hip. "But I asked you fuckers why you did this - not what your hokey religion is all about. Who made the call? Give me a name."

"We are one! All are one! We are union! We- are of the flesh, the blood and the soul of Her."

"Fanatics," Yang spat to me as Coco ordered them taken away. "Are these the same cultists Blake has been dealing with? I knew they'd try something but this…? They're burning their own food. What's the point?"

"Is Blake safe?" I asked.

"Yeah. Her shift ended two hours ago and she's in bed. Or was." Yang looked back. "I've got a feeling she'll be woken up for this." She watched the prisoners be loaded onto a wagon by Coco's men. "How do you think they managed the Fleshborer trick. I thought we quarantined that shit."

"We did." I sighed. "But the healers looked for open wounds. These people must have found some dormant ones and smuggled them out." An oversight, but then who could have expected people to want to smuggle Grimm into the city? "I think the bigger question is how they got them in their bodies without being torn to pieces. Those things are voracious."

"They came out pretty quick once the hosts started bleeding."

That was the problem. They couldn't have been co-operating with the Grimm because the Fleshborers wasted no time tearing out their hosts, to the point of killing them in seconds. They had to be dormant until the people were wounded. "We'll find out when Blake arrives. I don't think we'll be leaving these cultists to their own devices after this."

"You can say that again."

/-/

Blake was clearly exhausted but ready enough for action when she arrived, flanked by Nora and Ren. Her eyes roved over a few of the dead bodies, taking in their clothing and faces before turning to Coco and saying, "It's them. I recognise the outfits."

"Did you see them with the Fleshborers?"

"No. I'd have reported that if I had." How Blake managed to avoid a sarcastic comment there I had no idea. "The last I saw them they were praying and doing their usual routine. My shift ended at the third bell – around nine last night. I passed over to the next shift and went home to rest."

"The attack hit around two in the morning," Coco growled. "Shit. You know where they are, right?"

Blake nodded.

"Right." Coco took us in and made her decision. "Yatsu, I want you to handle clean up here. I'll be going with the Hunters to clean these fuckers out. They're just Labour and Soldiers, right?" She waited for Blake's nod. "We should be fine with just the six of us."

Yatsuhashi saluted and marched back to the students, taking control and calming them down. They weren't professionals yet and the sudden turn of violence from those they were sworn to protect had startled them.

We'd been through worse in Quests. Horrible as it sounded, this was nothing compared to Raven's massacre on the Mirage Isles.

"You guys lead," Coco told us. "You're higher level than I am. I'll sit back and provide support and fire." She tapped her arrows. "Leave any large groups of Fleshborers to me. You focus on taking out those causing this – and let none escape."

"Kill them all?" Ren asked, without emotion or criticism. "Is that allowed?"

"They put me in charge, kiddo. I'm free to make any call I think is for the best. They were trying to spread those things into the populace. Far as I'm concerned, that waives any right they have to surviving the night. And we don't need them alive for questioning. We can guess their motives easy enough."

Insanity and faith in their desperate religion that was made just to try and justify a chance for them to be spared by Salem. I'd considered them a nuisance before, but Coco was right, they'd been promoted to threat.

"Follow me," Blake said. "If we're lucky we can catch them before they realise anything is wrong."

/-/

The townhouse Blake took us to was large and opulent, obviously belonging to a well-off merchant or by a Noble rented out to people living in the city. It was dark, with not a candle lit inside the windows and the door hanging wide open. Fortunately, the houses around it were quiet.

"Doesn't look like there's any fighting going on outside," Coco whispered. "That's good. I'll stick out here and cover the street. Take down anyone who tries to escape. You five go in and do what needs to be done."

"Blake?" Ren asked.

"There's a converted chapel in the centre. Main hall connects to it with bedrooms on the sides and a kitchen at the back. I could go ahead…"

"No." I gripped her shoulder. "I think the time for subtlety is over."

Drawing weapons, we stepped inside, leaving Coco to scale the building opposite for a sniper vantage point. I didn't blame her for staying. Her bow would be a liability in closed quarters whereas we excelled in it. It was dark inside, but Blake's night vision let her lead us until we finally came upon some torches hanging from scones on the walls.

Below them, several bodies lay.

"Cultists," Blake said, stepping past them. "And they died from stab wounds."

"Looks like the Rogue on duty decided to step in," Nora remarked. "You think they're okay?"

Blake frowned. "If they managed to send people out to attack the storehouse, I somehow doubt it."

"Did you know them?" I asked.

"Him. And only a little. We discussed shifts so we knew what the other would have to deal with. Things to look out for. He was alright. A Thief, and not at all afraid to make use of those skills. I'm not sure stealing things would have been useful to him here."

We walked on, weapons at the ready and torch held out before us both for light and to ward off any Fleshborers. More bodies greeted us, slumped by walls or pushed through doorways. Stab wounds, slit throats and the occasional throwing dagger buried in a chest or neck. Thief or not, he'd apparently had little problem tearing a swathe through the cultists. Expected given that they were low level Labour Caste.

For a moment, I dared to hope he'd be alive and ready to answer our questions.

And then we found him.

"Shit." Blake let her head fall. She knelt and touched the man's pale cheek – just below a horrible hole bored through his skull. His body was covered in such wounds, as though a hundred arrows had been shot through him. Six dead bodies surrounded him, some horrifically disfigured.

"He didn't know about the carriers," Yang said. "Poor bastard. He must have killed them and been caught off guard when the Fleshborers erupted out. Skilled as he may have been, if there were that many and on him before he could react, he'd not have a chance."

Blake stood with a calm expression. I recognised the anger burning beneath, but she tempered it down and moved on. She'd been through this before, losing people, and I knew she wanted to deal with the ones responsible. "We'll get them," I told her. "Remember, none of them leave here alive. How close are we?"

"Chapel is ahead. We should be able to hear them right now if they're still here…"

And yet it was silent. Eerily so. We trudged forward as the corridor became brighter and brighter, eventually opening ahead with light cast over a scene that may as well have been from a nightmare. Bodies lay everywhere, torn asunder and discarded like macabre toys cast aside by a vicious monster. Fleshborers covered the ground, but in a dormant state and unmoving. Others were squashed or killed, but most simply lay there, gorged. One squelched underfoot and popped like a balloon, spilling blackened grime across the floor.

Crocea Mors dipped. There was no one to fight.

The cultists were dead. All of them. All that remained were dried husks. One such husk stood at what must have been the alter, draped over the body of someone laid out flat on their back. Both were covered in so much dried blood that it was impossible to tell what had happened – only that neither came out alive from the experience. Perhaps most horrific was the strange funnel pushed into the mouth of the person on the alter.

"Blake," Yang whispered. "Make sense of this shit…"

"I can't." The Assassin shook her head, as shocked as any of us. "They never did anything like this."

"You think!? If they had, they have been dead before now, wouldn't they? The fuck." Yang waved a torch before her, illuminating rows of seats set up like pews and several idols made of precious metal and gemstones. They'd managed a crude statue of Salem with skin made of ivory and eyes of rubies. It was frighteningly accurate.

Ren approached the pulpit and pushed the leader onto his back, holding him up so we could see his face. A cowl covered his eyes down to his nose, small holes so he could see through poked into them. Ren pulled it off.

I didn't recognise the man.

"Is this the leader?" Ren asked Blake.

"Yes. He's the one who called himself the head priest."

"Small mercy, then. He didn't escape to start this again." Ren dropped him and stepped back, leaning over a large pot behind the alter. He gagged and backed away with a hand over his nose and mouth.

"What is it?"

"Come see for yourself…"

Realising no combat was coming we sheathed our weapons and moved over, crowding behind the altar to look into the pot. One by one we looked and backed away with horrified expressions. I was the last and found myself looking down into a pot filled with unmoving slugs. Fleshborers. Inert and, to my disbelief, stored. Intentionally stored.

"They collected this many?" Yang hissed. "How?"

"Must have smuggled them from the quarantines," I said. "Or maybe they breed if they get enough blood. We don't really know." I moved over to the dead sacrifice, who I was slowly deciding might not have been a sacrifice at all. "This guy isn't strapped down. He didn't struggle."

"You think he wanted to be fed Fleshborers!?"

"Maybe…" It was Nora who said it, moving over to poke the inert thing between his teeth with the butt of her war hammer. "Didn't you say they react to blood? You could eat one and it'd stay inert, wouldn't it?"

They looked to me for an answer I really didn't have.

"I think so…? That's what Ironwood said, but I've no idea how they'd react to stomach acid."

Yang snorted. "Judging from this, I'd say poorly."

"No. This was an exception." Ren moved in, removing the slug and laying it down on the altar. To my shock, he reached into the man's mouth, breaking his jaw as he did.

I wasn't the only one to look away in discomfort. Ren's Passive left him emotionless and I had to believe that was the only reason he could so freely push his hand down a dead man's throat. The horrible sounds the corpse made as Ren worked his elbow into the mouth was horrible.

"Here." Ren came back up, gripping another Fleshborer in his hand. Like the first, it was inert.

"Was that really fucking necessary?" Yang wheezed.

"Necessary, yes. Sanitary, no." Ren wiped his hand on the dead man's clothing. "My point is, the Fleshborers went inside without waking up. We know that from the attack on the storehouse. Those people didn't disgorge these things unless they suffered internal wounds."

Like the woman stabbed through her stomach. They were eating Fleshborers so that when they died and blood entered their stomachs, the things would come to life. And they would eventually, no matter the means of death. The body would break down and blood would be made available sooner or later. I felt a bolt of panic before shaking my head. There was no way we weren't burning all these bodies anyway. It wouldn't spread.

"It's possible the Thief did all he had to," Ren said. "Even if he was stopped by cultists before he could reach the chapel, he killed the carriers. They let out a host of blood starved Fleshborers. And when he died, they'd have come looking for new prey."

And just like that, a chain reaction. If all those here had been eating these things, they'd have erupted and caused more to spread when the others killed them. The sheer number of inert Grimm on the floor spoke of more than just a few people having them inside. The cultists had intended to spread the plague of Grimm through the city, likely by inserting into the food supply.

Ellayne stopped that, and these people were eviscerated by their own Fleshborers thanks to some of them being killed close enough to cause a slaughter. They might have been trying to work with Salem, but Salem had no interest in working with them. The Grimm killed indiscriminately.

"That's it, then," Yang said. "They're all dead. I don't see any escaping from this. The only way in is where the Grimm came from."

"We should check the nearby houses just in case." I decided. "We don't want to miss anything."

"I'll tell Coco," Blake said, turning away.

Yang went with her, unable to deal with the stench. I didn't blame her. It was foul. Stepping around from the altar and down onto the floor, crushing Fleshborers as I went, I looked out over the dead cultists and the iconography splashed with dried blood.

"Why do you think they did it?" I asked out loud.

"Why does anyone do anything?" Ren answered. "Belief. They thought Salem their Goddess, and they must have seen the Fleshborers as messengers. Maybe they thought that by eating the flesh of them, they would become Grimm themselves. A chance for the faithful to prove themselves and win her blessing."

"That's stupid," Nora pointed out.

"I think we already ruled out these people being overly intelligent. The group that attacked the storehouse must have gone out before this happened. That means we can't rule out the possibility of there being others."

The thought of more cabals like this in the city frightened me. Not for my sake, but for the people. We'd be the ones tasked to hunt them down since the main Heroes and Soldiers were still holding the walls. I wondered if they even knew what was going on behind them. While they fought a war against the Grimm outside, we fought our own within.

"We should take some of these idols to show Beacon," I said, suiting action to words and ripping the statuettes down. "If nothing else, we can have cultists hunted down through the city. Everything else, we burn down. All it takes is one mouse bleeding on a Fleshborer to set them off again."

Nora and Ren nodded, bringing down torches off the walls and moving around, setting them to patches of Fleshborers and burning the little bastards. They went up quickly, either oily or flammable thanks to the gasses within. Fortunately, however they metabolised their food, they didn't splash out blood when they popped like horrible little balloons.

It took the best part of an hour, but we had all the Fleshborers we could find burning and the room itself starting to smoulder. It was more than these idiots deserved, but they'd get their cremation. The lack of shouting outside told us the houses nearby were clean. Or that the people inside were alive at least, a sure a sign as any that the Grimm hadn't spread.

As flames licked up walls and tapestries, we tossed the torches onto the altar, letting the high priest and his willing sacrifice burn.

The `faithful` burned with them.

/-/

As the sun rose over Vale, people were dragged out into the streets and killed.

The King's mercy wasn't very merciful and Saren, the King's spy, led a campaign to hunt down the remaining cultist cabals. Fortunately, the Fleshborers hadn't spread, but crates of them in an inert state were found at two other cabals, showing that the intent had been there. It could have been a campaign that weakened the city and turned all the people into walking carriers of murderous Grimm. It would have been the end of Vale if it worked.

The Nobles weren't taking any chances.

I watched from Beacon's walls as a bonfire raged, the bodies of those executed burning to ash inside it. The killing – from broken necks all, some being hung – were brutal, but considering the risk of Fleshborers being inside their bodies, they had to be burned. At least they weren't being burned alive.

A part of me feared that innocents might be mixed in among those killed. I had no evidence of that, however, and chose to place my faith in Saren to run a proper check on everyone involved. That most of those to die screamed of the glory of Salem in their final moments helped ease my doubts.

"With any luck, that will be the last of them."

I turned, surprised, to find Ozpin on the walls beside me. "Sir? I didn't realise you were here."

"I came out for a little fresh air," the Sage said. "I can't spend every moment in planning or meetings, or I'd collapse. It's unfortunate," he said, nodding down to the city. "Though I'm unsure what is more unfortunate – that people would be so without hope they would dedicate themselves to a monster and kill the people the live and grew up with, or that we must so readily turn to slaughtering those who have done wrong."

I felt the same way. I knew it was necessary. With what the cultists were planning, I'd be the first to demand they be dealt with permanently. Still, it didn't feel a satisfying end. We'd dealt with the threat, but they went out cursing and damning us to eternal damnation, and at the end of the day we'd spent a night and the better part of a day killing our own people. Salem won even when she didn't do anything.

More than anything, I was glad I didn't have to be down there doing that. I didn't envy those who had to raid homes, drag out cultists and kill them. I didn't envy them having to explain to shocked and disbelieving families that their father, mother, brother or child was a mad person bent on killing everyone in Vale in devotion to their twisted goddess.

Since then I'd returned to Winter and the CCT, throwing myself into shielding yet more blasts against the tower. Three again. At this point I was convinced Salem was holding back – though Ironwood continued to stress there might be good reasons for that. She wasn't omniscient. If she was, they were already doomed. Three might be her limit, or what she was comfortable expending before she left herself vulnerable.

Either way, I was tired physically, emotionally and mentally.

"I'd rather be on the walls," I found myself saying.

It sounded stupid, and yet Ozpin laughed. "I'm the same way. At least there your enemies stand before you and come face you head on. It's grim work, but simple. Give me Grimm to slay over strategy session that might dictate the lives and deaths of tens of thousands of people any day of the week. Sadly, it is ever the responsibility of those in positions of power to hold responsibility."

"I think that fits you more than me, sir."

"Perhaps. You are all kept out of the fighting because the city needs you. Can you imagine how much worse this night would have been had all students of Beacon been tasked to the walls? How many would have died before the Soldier Caste brought it under control?"

Too many.

"It's grim work," Ozpin said, clapping my shoulder. "But it's good work. Those on the walls fight in the hope they will have something to come back to. You help give them that hope, telling them they need not fear for those behind. Take solace in that."

"You're right. I know." Intellectually, I did. It was easy to doubt in a time like this. "Sorry for bothering you, sir. I'll go."

"It's no bother," Ozpin said, looking out over the city. "As I said, I was coming down for a break anyway. Take one yourself, young man. If Ironwood needs you, he will open a portal. Go spend time with your friends."

While you can, he didn't say.

"I think I will." I let out a long sigh and smiled, turning away from the executions below. I'd done my job, and everything I could. Right now, the prospect of spending some hard-earned free time with the Guild was enough for me. "Thank you."

"Not a problem. And hold to hope. We're not beaten yet."

Outside, the war raged on.

Beyond it, Salem watched.


I'm trying to keep events fast paced through this final book since I know some people find the endings to be a bit of a slog – especially since this is, in a way, a similar situation to Magnis in One Good Turn (a siege ending).

That said, I'm aware of the concerns and doing my best to not let any one plot drag on too long. These things do have a purpose in cleaning up other loose ends, such as Jaune's still-unknown ability to gain a second Class, his Purify Object Skill and even "what is" Ruby's Class.

I don't want to leave any of those hanging, which is why I couldn't have this siege be over quick by any means. That said, we're about halfway through the final book now.


Next Chapter: 16th September

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