It's father's day today. Not sure if it is in other countries as I know UK and US mother's day are different dates. Anyway, I'll be out a lot of today having a family day out and all that. Got to write as much as I can asap and post in whatever state it is.

Cover: GWBrex

Chapter 67

Taiyang had been right when it came to Yang wanting to stay with them. Jaune still didn't understand why she would want to leave the family she had always known to travel with the ones she hadn't, in service of the Dark Lord and in an almost unwinnable war. His brief talks with her hadn't revealed much other than that she "wanted to" and that she was bored in the tribe. It felt like such a poor reason to make such a decision, but she wasn't like him. Yang had grown up a bandit and fighting and risk were second nature to her. Different cultures, he told himself, and left it at that. Yang spent most of her time with Ruby and Taiyang anyway, so it wasn't his problem.

The days spent restocking and foraging for supplies in Mistral were tense. At least for him, but he imagined everyone felt it. There was no reason to expect Salem to know just yet where they were, but that didn't stop them from having ships ranging around the ocean just in case. They brought tents and shelters onto land, but stayed close enough that they could rush back to the ships and be away if they had to be. The mood didn't improve any after Raven's bandit tribe left.

Occasionally, they saw people. Only small parties – six being the most reported by lookouts. It was often just distant shapes of one or two people, who quickly disappeared, and none had been found and communicated with. Survivors, refugees, other scavengers. They didn't know. It was unlikely they were scouts for the church, though that wouldn't stop them reporting the sight back to officials in Vale. Even when that was what they wanted, it still had him on edge. It just didn't seem possible for them not to have been noticed, even when he intellectually knew this many thousands of people wasn't that big a deal, and the world was a large place.

When Sienna called him, he expected it to be to announce they'd been discovered, but instead found it about their planned raid. "We've picked a decent target," she said. "There's a small town on the east coast of Vale that serves more as a shipwright than anything. Bigger docks than a town that size needs or deserves, so we think it's been turned into one of their primary shipyards. We take that out and not only will it tell Salem we're here, but it'll cripple their ability to match our navy."

"Wouldn't it be well-defended if it's that important?"

"You'd think so, but then what point do they have in it? We're all hiding away on Menagerie, and she has to muster and train her army – there's a lot of levy that won't have any combat experience. Why would they waste manpower defending a town that won't be attacked?"

Sienna was all smiles, and for good reason. Salem's arrogance was going to work against her here, assuming Sienna was right. He couldn't think of any reason why she wouldn't be. Logic dictated they stay on Menagerie. It was the sane play, which was why him being out here should convince her he'd lost his marbles. He still wasn't sure he hadn't.

"I want to send you out for that tomorrow," she said.

"Send me out?" asked Jaune, looking up. "You're not coming? Why not?"

"A few reasons. First of all, we surely want to make it seem to witnesses like you're in charge. Not me. Secondly, a smaller force will move quicker, and you don't need the full might of our navy for this. We can stay here and forage more supplies while you act. Finally, whether or not our people understand why we're doing this, an attack on a civilian target is going to hurt morale. By liming that to a smaller portion of our forces, the damage is less, and I can select crews who I believe will be able to handle it better."

Good reasons all round. There was no arguing with them. "All right. You know best. How many will I have?"

"I'm thinking a hundred men total. Not a lot, I admit, but every single one of them will be aura capable, and made up of the best of our best. The idea is that they'll look like your royal guard of sorts. Give everyone the idea that you've built a cadre of elite Chosen of your own." Sienna chuckled softly. "The Dark Lord's Chosen."

Sienna had put a lot more thought into this than he had. He agreed with her plan and she told him there would be a ship ready for them in the morning. One ship. That was worrying, but she assured him it would be a fast one, and that anything faster would be small enough for him to sink with ease. The real threat would be if Salem had stationed her Chosen there. If so, he'd need to cover the ship from any spellfire.

/-/

In the end, it was Neptune who was to be their captain – aboard the Dark Lord's Fury. A ship that, to his mind, changed names more than he had changed clothes in the last year alone. The words were inked onto the left and right of the prow, with the old names scratched off. Neptune had even donned a black cloak.

"My old man was a pirate," he explained. "What can I say? Some of his theatrics rubbed off on me."

"It wouldn't have been a bad idea to be in uniforms if we'd thought of it," said Blake, leaning on the wooden railing nearby. The hundred he had at his command felt a lot less fragile now he had Blake, Adam, Ruby, Pyrrha, Weiss, and many other highly trained aura-users at his command. Blake continued without pause. "A unifying outfit or colour scheme could have let us look much more organised. You should have brought it up to Sienna."

"Disorganised is good as well," said Ruby. Yang had been left behind, not yet confident in her aura. The blonde had not been happy about the fact. "Maybe this'll make us look more like a chaotic, insane person is leading us."

"Speaking of insane." Jaune turned to Neptune. "Does your crew know why we're doing this act?"

He nodded. "They know. Don't worry, no one will panic if you start cackling and making wild declarations. Sun and I talked to everyone one-on-one and made sure they knew it was all make-believe. Turned out Sienna and her lot had as well, so it wasn't that difficult a job."

"Good."

"That doesn't mean they're thrilled with the plan," added Neptune. "We're smugglers, not raiders, and there's going to be a lot of reluctance when it comes to torching the place. They'll do it because they know why they have to, but they won't like it. Keep that in mind."

"I'll try and make it as bloodless as possible."

"That'll help."

They sailed for two days and one night before they spied land. That was time enough to ponder if the reason he hadn't been sent alone wasn't so Sienna could betray him, but then to dismiss those same thoughts. Salem would destroy Menagerie with or without him at this point, since they knew the truth of her. Sienna needed him. His thoughts turned to how best to make a show of the attack instead, and how to accomplish it without killing anyone. That was no small feat.

It was dark by the time they came within distance of the town. He hadn't been given the name. It was lit by torchlight and lanterns here and there, and a larger brazier off the docks to ward away ships in the night. Some of the orange dots were moving, carried by people, but not many. Several lanterns attached at the front of the Dark Lord's Fury lit them up as well, but anyone watching would have assumed them just another ship coming in from a long journey. There was not yet reason to panic.

"Sienna was right. They're not even remotely on guard."

"Unprofessional," said Adam. "Even if we're not expected, bandits exist. Or have those all been pressed into her service now?"

"It's more likely she simply doesn't care," said Weiss, icily. While Pyrrha still maintained some respect for people in the church, seeing them as misled, Weiss held an icy hatred for them all. "They're worthless to her in the end. What does it matter if they're swept away or killed by raiders? There are plenty more where they came from."

"Would they really not station any Chosen here, though? This is one of their primary shipyards."

"We were very rarely stationed anywhere. Most of our time was spent in the major city of whatever kingdom we were assigned to. Rarely, we would be given marching orders to clear Grimm or investigate a sighting of the Dark Lord, but most of our time was to be spent in prayer, self-reflection, and study of religious texts."

"Sounds boring," said Ruby.

"It absolutely was – and that was the point. Distractions would have interfered with our ability to centre our thoughts. The point was to find inner peace. Or such was the excuse they gave. I think now that it was to keep us from seeing the world from other people's points of view, the better to keep us indoctrinated."

"And the better to keep Chosen as near-mythical people," added Blake. "You wouldn't want to get used to your saviours after all. This should be an easy affair if there aren't any here. We'll just need to be gentle with any militia."

Gentle. Magic wasn't gentle no matter which way he looked at it, and neither were swords, spears and arrows. If it came to a fight, people would die. There was no question of that. These were innocent people though, and he didn't want to harm them. Worse, even if they somehow exposed Salem later, they wouldn't support him if he'd gone out his way to kill helpless people.

It was too little too late to worry about that however, because they were less than a hundred feet from the docks and Neptune was turning them to slow their approach and buy him more time to act. Jaune bit his lip. Did Ozma have any ideas?

"If you do not want to harm them then you need them to not fight back. You must break their morale so fully that they believe fighting you to be an impossible task."

Break them…

"Draw in close and drop me off on the dock."

/-/

For the people living in the town, the first they knew of anything wrong was when fire exploded on one of the ships halfway through construction. The wood, not yet treated to be seaworthy, burned brighter and hotter than it had any right to, lighting up the streets like it was early evening instead of the middle of the night. The inferno rose to an impossible height – almost a hundred feet in the air, and at least forty over the height of the ship itself.

Residents poured from their homes, many with buckets ready to draw water from the wells or the ocean itself to try and control the blaze before it could reach their homes. They hurried toward the docks, where they ran into the backs of those that had arrived before them and frozen for some reason. As voices were raised, and members of the town militia fought their way through, they saw what had made those before them stop. There was a single figure stood silhouetted against the inferno, arms held out to the side as if he were anointing himself in fire.

"Did you do this!?" shouted an older man wielding an iron sword. He aimed it at the shadowy figure. The captain of the guard strode from the citizens around him, used to cracking down on criminals and never-do-wells. "Stand down or be run through!"

The figure didn't respond, and the captain growled, hurrying forwards. It was one man, one madman arsonist, and even though his face couldn't be seen against the bright flames, the shadow was unarmed. The sooner they got him out the way, the sooner they could make sure the whole town didn't burn down. Spurred on by their captain, several militia members charged in behind him.

The shadowy figure raised his hand toward them, but, still, there was no weapon.

That was when the wall of fire behind him bulged outward. It was sudden and unexpected, there being absolutely no reason for the fire to move so erratically. It ballooned out like a bladder fit to burst, and then it did, spraying fire across the floor and in arcs several feet in the air. It snaked its way toward them unerringly, unnaturally, and twisted left and right, cutting off their charge and igniting into blazing walls of fire. The captain stumbled back inches away from singing his beard, and his men were little better.

"What the-"

The shadowy figure raised his hands and then slapped them down to his sides as if he was fanning something away. Immediately, the inferno behind him split – right down the middle! It burst out to the left and right, thankfully behind him still, but exploding from one ship under construction to two, then tree, four, five and more.

The townsfolk cried out in dismay and fear. The fire was unnatural, that much was clear, and with it having dissipated from the figure, he was no longer silhouetted. Instead, as his vision grew used to the lack of burning light, the captain could just make out a hood or cowl, and a long, dark cloak. There was a sword at the man's hip, but he hadn't drawn it. The reason why was painfully obvious when he lowered his hood to show his blonde hair and shining blue eyes.

Blonde hair and blue eyes weren't uncommon, but that face had been splashed over thousands of sketches distributed across Vale. There wasn't a city, town or village that didn't have one, and the captain felt his stomach drop. No. Not here. It couldn't be! Sadly, he wasn't the only one to recognise him.

"It's the Dark Lord!" screamed someone. Their voice carried, and soon everyone was wailing and screaming. He wished he could join in, but he had a duty.

"Hold the line!" he shouted, rallying his terrified men. There was little use telling them they could win; his men weren't stupid. "Hold the line! Our lives to protect them! Hold the-" The sword in his hand burned cherry red, and his fingers released it, hissing. "Argh!"

"SILENCE!"

The voice before them boomed out, unnaturally deep and resonant. It caused the very ground beneath them to vibrate, and wooden signs on nearby buildings to flap as if they'd been caught in gale force winds.

"THIS TOWN HAS BEEN CLAIMED IN MY NAME. YOU INTRUDE UPON MY DOMAIN."

The fire to their left and right burned hotter and taller, casting terrifying shadows across the buildings. Children began to cry, and to his shame there were grown men and women crying as well. The captain trembled and looked to his weapon again. It was still hissing. He couldn't wield it if he wanted to.

The old man licked his lips. His face tingled from the fire. If this man – the Dark Lord – wanted them dead, then he had them here and now. But if he wanted the town, then dead bodies might just get in the way. No one dared speak, so it was up to him. "W-What do you want?" he shouted. He was surprised that he only stammered a little.

"I AM HERE FOR THE MONSTER THAT CLAIMS ITSELF A GOD. YOU ARE IRRELEVENT. YOU HAVE UNTIL THE RISING SUN TO FLEE."

The people had already gotten started on that. They weren't dumb, but he could only hope they kept to one another and didn't trample any of their neighbours. "You have the town," he said, holding his empty hands up. "We can't fight you. Please let us leave in peace and the town is yours."

Beyond that? Well, this devil wouldn't beat the goddess – certainly not on his own like he was. They had to reach Vale and inform the church. If they had until morning then he could tell one of the younger lads to take a horse, and hand him their fastest. He could get the message to Vale by midday tomorrow. The Dark Lord might not have realised that, and he sure as hell wasn't going to mention it.

"YOU HAVE UNTIL THE MORNING'S SUN." The devil turned away. The fires did not stop. "WE WILL BE WATCHING." There was a ship out in the water that he hadn't noticed with the fire blocking their view. The damn idiots on the docks hadn't even warned them about it. "AND IF YOU BELIEVE YOU CAN FIGHT BACK…? WELL. THAT MONSTER IS NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN CHOOSE HER ALLIES."

He raised his hand and fire arched up from the ship. In his time, he'd seen naval combat. Ships might fit catapults, and those might fire flaming shot at other ships. This was nothing like that. There was too much fire, and they were individual trails of it, coming from far too many spots on the ship. This was no artillery constructed on the deck.

This was magic.

A lot of magic.

It rained down in the water just off the docks, casting up great gouts of steam and water, and causing the ocean to broil and roll choppily. He couldn't count them all, but there had to be at least fifty. At least fifty souls capable of magic on one ship. When the Grimm threatened, they were lucky to receive two huntresses.

With another gesture, the barrage stopped.

"MY OWN CHOSEN – FAR MORE CAPABLE THAN THE CHARLATANS YOUR SO-CALLED GODDESS EMPLOYS. WARN HER, IF YOU WISH, THAT I SHALL COME AND FINISH WHAT SHE STARTED. FIRST MISTRAL, THEN ATLAS, AND NOW VALE. HER TIME HAS COME!"

His men's nerve broke – and, if he was being honest, so did his. The captain turned his back and rushed back into the town. If the fiend's word held, they had three or four hours until the sun rose, but he knew he wouldn't trust that. No one would. He grabbed one of his men by the arm and shouted at him.

"Gather supplies and horses – send a rider off immediately to warn the city. Everyone else, evacuate the town fully. Break down every door and make sure no one is left behind! Carry them out if they're too old or sick to walk!" He raised his voice, booming out. "The town is lost! Gather outside the walls! The town is lost!"

"Goddess protect us," he whispered, as men and woman ran in fear. "The Dark Lord has come."

Next Chapter: 25th June

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