Notice:
There will be no updates from 13th – 19th June inclusive of both days. I'm away at an expo and stuck going out with clients pretty much every night. Going to be exhausted, overworked and drunk or hungover whenever I'm not. I'll be back 20th June to write as normal.
That means next update will be three weeks.
Really not looking forward to it tbh. So much standing around and talking to people. And the walking. Argh. Car parks and bus drop offs from hotel are always such an ungodly walk from the exhibit venue.
Cover Art: Curbizzle
Chapter 30
The Grimm were being cut down by their thousands; attacking in over a million, enough to tear a city to the ground – they might not have been enough to destroy Vale with the combined might of their huntsmen and Atlas' forces here, but they would have reaped a truly hideous toll on the defenders and the civilians living within. Here and now, they fell hundreds at a time to one man, who laughed happily as he tore through them. It really was a ridiculous showing.
Grimm waved his hand and sent more forward, enough to create a ball around the man and hopefully smother him to death. The amount of steam rising off the mass of Grimm certainly implied that was happening, but then they caught fire suddenly, burning away like it was the docks incident with Blake all over again. Knight's armour burned bright orange, even white in places, and the air around him sizzled.
Of course he can do that, Grimm thought dully. Why wouldn't he be able to?
Before the Grimm could recover, Knight was upon them again, cleaving and swinging through their ranks like… well, like nothing he'd ever seen. A hot knife through butter met resistance sooner or later, usually when the butter cooled and bunched up like wet slush against the blade. Knight was more like an Atlesian battleship flying through a flock of seagulls. Fur and bits of Grimm were certainly flying off with a similar degree of force, bodies exploding more often than they were cut simply because Knight's inhuman strength was such that his blows caused shockwaves as they cut.
"So, this is what it's really like when people ask how a video game character in the real world would act," he said to Remy and himself. "What a joke. I wonder if he could cause gale-force winds just by punching the air."
"If he touches you, you're dead."
"I know, Remy. I know." Grimm waved a hand again and fresh waves of his namesake poured down on Knight and to their doom. At this point, he was beginning to think this would be nothing more than a distraction, to see how long he'd last before Knight cleaned up here and went back to kill Cinder and the rest.
"If that's all we can be, so be it."
"No." Grimm scowled and narrowed his eyes. "No, I will kill him, Remy. I have to."
"For whom? Your mother – need I remind you by her own word, and by action, she is no mother. For Cinder? She is no sister. Our Cinder would be aghast. No, our Cinder would have hunted down and flayed this one alive for daring to throw our lives away like this. You know she gets possessive of you, even if she'd die before admitting it."
"I know." The reminder brought a smile despite the gravity of the situation. "And it's not for either of them. I'm going to kill him for me. To prove I'm capable of something in this dam war."
"And if it grants Cinder her victory?"
"It won't."
"Who do you think will win, then?"
"Headmaster." Grimm answered without hesitation. "He knows too much, he planned too much. He's played us all for fools and I fully believe he can take her on."
Headmaster was older, and therefore more experienced and likely just more skilled, and he knew about the maidens and Cinder, so that wouldn't surprise him. He even knew Null's Semblance and Ashari's past. He was in the perfect position to counter everyone.
"He couldn't beat us."
"No, he couldn't." Grimm said with a light laugh. "Which is why we're out here stuck fighting Knight – another person he couldn't beat. Coincidence? Or did he put this idea in Cinder's head long ago and we're paying the price?" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I'd rather it be him than her that wins this."
"What about Ruby?"
"Ruby will be safer when she's no longer an anchor."
"No reason for anyone to target her. You're right. Hah. You and your pride. Fine. Let's do this."
"Yes. Let's."
Tentacles speared out of Grimm's back under Remy's control, encircling his body and then pushing down to the ground. They gripped rock and steadied themselves then, with a lurch, lifted him up into the air. They were not dexterous or flexible enough to propel him on legs like a spider, but they were enough to grant him height over the heads of the Grimm, and to put him in the perfect position for a Nevermore to swoop down, talons extended, and catch him by his shoulders.
The ground beneath him swam away as the creature brought him up and into the air. His tentacles slid back and under its wings, securing themselves, and the creature let him go. From there, Remy drew him up and onto its back, seating him on the back of its neck with his legs in front of its wings. The aerial view let him see the tiny pocket of grass among the sea of black, the silver dot in the centre that carved through the ranks. Every now and then silver metal would pierce out the ground, stabbing up or bursting under the feet of Grimm to hurl them into the air.
The numbers were thinning, easily down to less than half a million left. The crazy bastard really was going to just go and solo a million Grimm, wasn't he? Ridiculous. The Grimm of his world must have been a thousand times stronger to threaten their kingdom. That was fine. With a raised hand and a focus of his will, a black cloud swam up from the nearby forest like a fine mist. The mist rose, drifted and swam up through the air, accompanied by the deafening sound of thousands – tens of thousands – of fluttering wings.
A droning cacophony that would be heard all the way from outside the walls to within Beacon itself. The cloud swarmed up and into the air, flashing around Grimm as the tiny bodies, many less than the size of a fingernail, took to the air. Lancers. Hundreds of thousands of miniature lancers, rising over Vale like a swam of locusts, with their tiny, venom-tipped stingers angled downward.
"Remy…"
"I'm ready." the little parasite said sadly within his body. "Jaune…"
"It's not our world. And we'll wake up back in our own without remembering a thing."
"You're right. One last hurrah, then?"
"One last hurrah."
Grimm, Sheep, closed his eyes and unhooked his legs from around the Nevermore's neck. Spreading his arms, he leaned back, letting himself drop off the bird's back. The wind whipped about him immediately, throwing his white hair around as he turned in the air, flipping over to face downward, down toward Knight fighting amidst the Grimm.
/-/
Jaune watched as Magnis cut down three White Fang members who dared to try and charge them. It was as efficient as it was brutal, and likely needless as well since the four of them could have handled it just fine. Killing them, Jaune wasn't so sure of. The act of taking a life was something he'd not yet had the horror of experiencing and judging by the looks on his teammates' faces he wasn't the only one there. Not so Magnis, who cleaned his sword on his arm and turned to look at them.
"Keep together and watch one another's backs," he said. "If Fate is in danger, leave that to me. You're a team. Remember that, rely on one another, and you'll be fine."
It sounded so much like a dismissal and yet the way he looked at them, at him specifically, he knew it wasn't. So many other people looked at Jaune and dismissed him in favour of talking to Pyrrha instead. She was the famous one, the competent one, and even he knew she should have been made leader over him. He understood she didn't want the pressure or the added responsibility, but it was an unbiased fact she deserved it more than he. People expected more of her anyway.
Not Magnis, though. Magnis looked at him in a way that seemed to say "You as well" and Jaune nodded back sharply. He would reach the level this man had proven capable of, and he sure as hell wasn't going to do it by losing Pyrrha or any of his friends like Fate had. His hands tightened around Crocea Mors, gripping it so hard his knuckles hurt.
"Team JNPR stands ready." Jaune said. To anyone else, it would have been bravado.
Magnis nodded back. "Good. I want you all to remember something. No matter what you're against and no matter how strong they are, you four have the potential to be one of the strongest teams out of Beacon. You can hold your own – even against an iteration if you must. Ashari, Null, Headmaster and Xiong. They're human. All humans bleed. Remember that."
"Even so," Nicholas interrupted, "Leave the fighting to us if you can. And for the love of everything, Jaune, listen to my orders. Alright? With age comes experience." His eyes softened somewhat. "You're not Magnis yet. After all, you haven't even brought your cat girlfriend back for your mother to meet."
Jaune's smile, which had been growing at every word, turned agonised in a fraction of a second. "Dad! It's not like that!"
"I'm sure it isn't." Dad looked past him to Pyrrha and grinned. "Different world; different choices. I'll try make sure I don't die here, and you lot do the same. The rest… well, we'll figure that out later."
There really was nothing more to say to that and they ran through the corridors down a staircase and in the direction of Fate's last message. Pyrrha's scroll, linked to his by Ozpin, showed a distress Beacon blinking but also moving through the corridors. "He's moving away from us," she reported.
"Why?" Jaune gritted out. "What is he thinking?"
"He doesn't know we're coming or from what direction." Ren pointed out. "And he might be running from someone. I'm sure he's not doing it solely to inconvenience us."
They reached the ground floor and sprinted further down, past the library where some people were hunkering down, and past the halls leading to the locker rooms and training halls. They were all cast in darkness now, lit only by the lights from their scrolls and the little amount coming in through windows leading outside.
As they ran, Jaune noticed that blast doors had been brought down to close off entire corridors. He hadn't realised Beacon had them, though it made sense to protect people and corral Grimm away from areas like the infirmary or the dorms, and toward ambushes set up by the teachers and students. As far as he knew there hadn't been a proper Grimm attack on Beacon for decades, but the old systems would still be in place, and they were proving their worth now.
"He's still moving away!" Pyrrha reported. "He's gone up a floor!"
"This feels like a wild goose chase!" Nora complained loudly. "And we're on the ground floor now – this is where we're more likely to run into-"
The door ahead of them opened and a dangerously familiar set of faces walked out. Two of them, he knew. He ought to seeing as they wore the same face as he. Null and Ashari seemed just as surprised to see them as they were in turn. A moment of absolute silence hung, until the dark-haired woman that must have been Cinder Fall pointed victoriously and crowed, "Kill them!"
"Back!" Nicholas roared.
They all knew why. Null's Semblance. At close range, he could render any of them helpless, and his simple handgun might as well be the most dangerous weapon among them all. Jaune slung his shield out and moved to cover Ren while Pyrrha did the same to Nora. It was funny how much Ruby had teased him about having something so simple, but here and now the hardened sheet of metal would offer more against gunshots than any of their auras would.
"Dad, take Cinder!" Magnis yelled. "I'm on Null. Everyone else, keep Ashari busy. Beware Emerald's Semblance. Adam's too!"
Jaune paled. He wanted them to take on Adam, Emerald and Ashari all at once? That was a ridiculous plan. They couldn't stand against Ashari when it had been them and RWBY both. Sure, the man was down an arm now, but he still moved ahead of Emerald with a dogged expression, his long white coat flapping up to reveal bandoliers of grenades, guns and other weapons. To say nothing of Adam bloody Taurus, who they knew more than enough about thanks to Revolutionary.
There's no way we can- No, we have to. It's that or die!
"T-Tight formation!" Jaune shouted nervously. "We're in a corridor – don't let them circle us."
If they kept them in front, then it might be doable. As long as they fought as four and didn't let the enemy break them up into smaller engagements. A further reprieve came when Magnis launched himself at Null sword swinging and the gunman fell back frantically. Cinder, sensing the threat to her iteration and her chances of victory, snapped out, "Adam! Defend Null!"
The faunus clicked his tongue and rushed back in pursuit of Magnis, who had chased Null down the corridor to buy them space. Only Ashari and Emerald, then. Still terrible odds, but hopefully a little more doable. As Ashari strode toward them, Jaune felt his courage take a beating. He shook his head, let out a breath so sharp his nostrils flared, and brought his shield up to right under his eyes.
"Pyrrha and me in front," he said. "Ren, covering fire. Nora, do whatever you can to put them off-guard. Pyrrha, just focus on surviving. Don't try and get fancy with him of all people."
It needn't be said he'd be doing the same. They weren't going to win against Ashari, but they might be able to hold him off. Magnis' faith in their capabilities, in his capabilities, firmed Jaune's trembling resolve, and his teammates all sounding their approval steadied it further.
"Emerald." Ashari said. He'd slowed to a walk now that Magnis and Nicholas were gone and engaging Null, Adam and Cinder. It was obvious Team JNPR weren't going to charge so he could afford to take his time as well. "Stay back, won't you? You're my weakness here and they'd be wise to target you."
"You have one arm!" the green-haired girl hissed.
"One less arm but twenty years' more experience." His eyes hardened. "Stay back. That is an order!"
"I… but…" The girl growled. "Fine. Die. See if I care!"
"I won't be dying here." Ashari said. He looked away from her and to them, and Jaune could have sworn the man looked… He looked apologetic. "I really am sorry about this," he said. "You're welcome to run if you want. A one-armed man can't be expected to run you down and leave Cinder on her own."
The offer was a good one. Jaune honestly believed Ashari would keep it as well. If Ironwood were here, he was sure the man would have told them to take it and get out. Pyrrha was still an anchor for Fate and was therefore more important to the war than to risk her life here against a qualified and dangerous huntsman version of himself. One look at his teammates showed him that wouldn't be happening any time soon, however.
"We can't." Jaune said. "We won't abandon them."
Ashari's lips twitched into a smile. "I'd expect no less of you all," he said so quietly that Jaune struggled to hear it. "After all, I couldn't have come from anyone less foolishly stubborn than you. Than myself."
He raised his gun and saluted them.
"Very well. Jaune Ashari-Schnee at your service."
The name had their eyes widening. Seriously? Finally, he'd found someone who got with Weiss, and it was this bastard? He was an old man! Jaune heard Nora titter nervously from behind him and knew she was thinking the same thing. Before he could think further, the man brought the gun down and fired. Jaune's shield came up, taking the brunt of the impact, but a shouted warning from Ren told of his error. Even pulling it down as quick as he could, he was left unprepared for the boot striking it, kicking off and sending him hurtling back into Nora.
Pyrrha charged in to take advantage of Ashari's attack, even going so far as to strike at his side with the missing arm. The man swayed away however, dodging by a mere inch and driving his gun into the back of her neck. Pyrrha flicked her arm up to knock it off course as he fired, sending the shots high, but she couldn't do much else as Emerald fired from a distance, hitting her stomach and driving her away from Ashari.
"That girl…" the man grumbled. "I swear, she was never so disobedient in my time." His eyes met Jaune's again. "I'll say it again. It's not too late to retreat."
"I can't! My dad is in there!"
"Null won't kill him. Nor will I. You're neither an anchor nor a champion. You have no stake here."
"You'll kill everyone else if you win this war!" Jaune roared. "I'm not an anchor… I'm not an iteration, a champion, or whatever you call it. I may not be either of those things, but I can still fight, and this is my world! Our world!"
Whatever they wanted, whatever their wishes, Salem would end the world if her side won. Jaune's eyes burned angrily but he dragged himself up and Nora with him. Pyrrha and Ren were already back in formation, ready to go another round. Jaune readied Crocea Mors once again.
"I don't care if the Gods thought I was so pathetic that they didn't need to involve me in this!" he spat. "I'm here and I'll involve myself. If I kill you, it won't matter if I was chosen or not!"
Ashari nodded. "Good words. Strong words. Come, then, my younger self." He stood before them. "Come and kill me."
/-/
Instincts honed from campaigns, war and numerous Quests warned him of the attack. Despite the Grimm all around him, he looked up, sensing the danger in time to see the man come hurtling out the sky. There was a brief moment of confusion, a short widening of his eyes as he questioned why Grimm – best suited to sitting far out of attack range and summoning Grimm – would willingly throw his life away like this, but there was little time to think further. Little time to choose another path, either. He was fast, yes, but a man moving at terminal velocity was still that, and with the Grimm surrounding him on all sides, there was little room to move aside.
Little reason to, either.
Crocea Mors came up, his knee bunched and one foot sliding back in preparation of the sudden weight he would take as the body came crashing down onto the sword's tip. He was prepared for a Nevermore to catch Grimm and take him aside, or for Beowolves to swarm him and wrench his sword away at the last.
What he did not expect was for his hardened and tempered steel to punch through the bone-plated chest, through aura that shattered in a sparkle of red light, and through flesh, muscle and organs in one go.
Grimm – the iteration version of himself that was the son of Salem – slid down his sword to Knight's hands, blood – red, he noticed, just like his own – pouring down over his gauntlets and vambraces.
Knight's eyes widened. "Why…?" he asked.
Grimm looked up, his red on black eyes tinged with agony, "B-Because I must."
The tentacles that the man used speared out and around Knight, threatening to stab into his back. He trusted his armour and his Constitution Stat to protect him. Sure enough, when the prehensile limbs punched against his plate, they failed to penetrate through. When he heard the click of buckles, however, he understood their true plan. His free hand slapped against his breastplate, Stoke the Forge superheating the metal in a matter of seconds. Flesh burned, not his but the tentacles, and yet they kept working, quickly stripping and peeling off his armour while Grimm's hands clutched at the sword through his chest to hold it in place.
It was a brave final move. Knight hated what he did in reaction to it.
His sword came down, one boot pressing on Grimm's stomach and pushing. For all his unnatural strength and determination, he could not hold up to Knight's raw Strength Statistic and slid down the metal so harshly it cut into his bare hands, sliding out the man's ruined chest with a horrible squelch and a spray of blood. His sword cut a circle then, slicing through the tentacles on either side of him and causing them to flop harmlessly down to the ground.
They had unlatched some of his armour in a valiant effort, but it had all happened so quickly that they'd not been able to fully remove any. The only thing he managed was to helplessly knock Knight's helmet off. It was sad in a way. There was little pleasure in forcing someone so far they'd sacrifice their life in a final gambit, only to deny them even that. Grimm even tried to grip onto Knight's boot, but his hands were bloody and in shreds from being driven down his sword edge so hard that he couldn't hold on.
"I'm sorry." Knight said, and he meant it. "But it was a courageous effort worthy of a king. I salute you." He did so, raising his sword vertical before him. "You are better than those you were summoned under, King of the Grimm."
"I… I…" the man's lips worked softly, stuttering. Heedless of the Grimm all about him, Knight knelt so as to hear his final words. The man on the ground was crying. "I… I'm sorry… as well…" Grimm rasped out. And he looked it. He looked agonised. Guilty. "B… But this… This is the o-only way I can s-see to beat you. I'm so sorry."
The buzzing reached his ears.
Knight's head snapped up.
The swarm descended on him like a wave of sand – pouring over his body and his armour until he was painted black. They worked their way into every crevice, between every joint and under every opening. He felt their stingers against his skin, felt them trying futilely to poison him. With a roar, he swung his arms and crushed thousands in one go, then threw himself to the ground and rolled, squashing tens of thousands more. It was as he did that he felt the first of them on his face, under his helmet, crawling into his mouth.
Realisation struck. Fear came with it. His teeth slammed shut, crunching through tiny carapaces, but more came, and it was in numbers he couldn't hold back. They crawled over his face and his shut eyes, up his nose, into his ears. Some had already lodged themselves in the back of his mouth and he choked on them, gasping for air. That proved the end. As his mouth opened, more swarmed in, filling his throat until there was no way to breathe. He could slay any Grimm, prove impervious to more, even to the ones that stung the inside of his throat, but no matter his strength and endurance there was one factor that would prove the same in this world as in his own. The need to draw breath.
Crocea Mors fell from his gauntleted fingers, which came up to drive into his mouth, crushing the tiny Grimm, but in no way removing them, not with yet more pouring their way inside. His eyes opened, seeing Grimm again, laid on the floor crying silently. Crying not for his own death, but for the horrible fate he was bestowing on his enemy. He despised the extend he had to go to in order to win.
That wasn't fair. With the last of his strength, knight dropped to his knees and took the man's hand. Their eyes met, death settling into both, and Knight tried his best to smile, the task made more than a little difficult by how blue his face was becoming.
Well played, King of the Grimm, he thought, and hoped the man would understand. Well played. To think I'd be bested like this. You have more than earned your reputation. Salem's champion indeed.
His back struck down beside the other man, another version of himself, and he closed his eyes. He knew that when he opened them again, it would be to Blake beside him, and all this would be little more than a distant dream – if he remembered that much at all. Put like that, death did not sound so bad. He had never desired the wish anyway.
I leave the rest to you, Ruby.
The buzzing faded as the swarm drew away from the two men, laid side by side, their hands clasped together. As Knight lay still, Grimm groaned as a Beowolf came and nuzzled his face, nudging him like a dog asking why their owner wasn't playing anymore.
"R-Return to the forests." Grimm told them. All of them. "L-Live in peace. D-Don't harm anyone. Nevermore…" A singular Nevermore flew down to land nearby, dipping its head obediently. Jaune met its red eyes with the last of his strength. "Fly to my mother, to Salem, a-and tell her what has happened here. Tell her…" That he loved her, that he forgave her, that he was angry at her, that he disliked this version of her. He wasn't sure which. "Tell her that I did as she asked. Tell her that I died for her dream."
The Nevermore lowered its head further and beat its mighty wings.
As the two kings died, thousands of Beowolves howled out mournfully into the night.
RIP Grimm and Knight.
I guess that's one way to deal with someone who is impossibly strong. Doesn't much matter if you work on video game logic if that game still has oxygen mechanics, and technically I did write a chapter where Jaune in that nearly drowned on a ride from Vale to Mistral, so it's a canon weakness.
Next Chapter: 25th June (Two Weeks)
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