Here we go.

Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 82

The ships had arrayed themselves in the mist under the cover of night, with torches and lanterns unlit and their sails pulled up high to hide their silhouettes better against the dark night's sky. Orders were for everyone to sleep and rest for tomorrow's battle, but Jaune wasn't sure how many managed that. He certainly hadn't.

It could end up being their final battle against Salem, and he couldn't get that off his mind.

And Ozma wasn't helping.

"There may be no such thing as a `final battle` I'm afraid. If you defeat her here and expose her to the world, then it will simply be that the tables have turned. She will take my place, becoming the dark scourge of the world once more as we do our best to prepare and advance civilisation to the point where they can defend themselves once more. Another 10,000 years of progress and resilience."

"It will be my final battle," said Jaune. "I'm sorry it can't be yours."

Ozma chuckled. "Fret not for me. All suffering becomes mundane given enough time. My greatest pain is in robbing young people like you of your lives and dragging you into this mess."

"It's fine."

"It isn't, but I appreciate your words. Once this is over, I would like to let you live your life free of me. I cannot truly, but I would be glad to retreat and exist in a quiet corner of your mind for your natural lifetime."

"That sounds entirely too sad and lonely, Ozma. But let's discuss the future after we win."

Jaune took a deep breath of the salty air. He'd gotten used to the rocking and swaying of the ships, and even the cold air didn't move him. He couldn't tell if he was used to the fear and nerves, or if he was so nervous he couldn't tremble.

One or the other.

"Jaune…?"

"Ruby." He didn't look at her but felt her come up beside him wrapped tight in a woollen shawl. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Mmhm. I tried my best. Yang and dad are fast asleep and snoring, and I have no idea how they managed it. They just laid down, closed their eyes and were gone." She huffed. "It annoys me how easy they make it look." Ruby settled against him, leaning on his side. "Are you nervous too?"

"Yes, but don't tell people that. They're taking confidence from how calm I look."

"Mmm. I know. You're putting on the strong face for them, but I know you. I can even tell when it's Ozma in control and not you. It's crazy to think how much has changed since dad and I limped to your village, isn't it?"

"It sure is."

"I keep feeling guilty about that."

"Why?" he asked. "You didn't force me to leave. I had Ozma in my head long before that, and having someone to travel with probably saved my life."

"Yeah, but the Grimm followed us, and it was you fighting the Grimm that exposed you."

He placed a hand upon her head. "Don't think about that. What's done is done." To his surprise, Ruby took his hand with an annoyed huff and pulled it off her head, then took it in two of hers and dragged it against her chest instead. "Ruby?"

"I'm not a child, Jaune, so don't pet my head like one. I may be a little younger than you, but I've been through the same things you have."

"You're right. You've been through the same battles, and those could age anyone." Her eyes were sparkling silver in the gloom and seemed unusually bright. "I didn't mean anything by it. I wasn't trying to say you're a child."

"I know, but I want you to see me as a woman."

That sentence seemed awfully loaded and Jaune coughed and looked away, his blush made all the worse for Ozma's knowing laughter in the back of his head. "Ah. I… uh… I do see you as a woman, Ruby. I just… Um…"

He was acutely aware now of how she'd pulled his hand to her chest. Obviously, she wasn't making him cup or touch anything too inappropriate, but it was still an intimate gesture. Ruby knew it too and smiled.

"I won't say anything tonight because we're all scared for tomorrow," she said, "but after, if we both live, then I want to continue this. Talking," she added, as if to make it clear, then blushed herself because by having to specify, she'd implied something else. "I don't think either of us really normal anymore, Jaune. There's gonna be all kinds of things to do. We'll probably have to open up a school to teach aura and how to fight Grimm, just like you and Ozma did on Menagerie. I'll work there obviously, but we'll be doing that for years to come. We'd be settling down."

"I think I understand what you're saying."

Ruby's eyes narrowed. "Do you?"

"Are you going to make me say it?"

She released his hand. "No. Not now, not if we might die and I'd have to grieve. But I expect you to say it after, I expect you to put some time aside for me. I've been your little fire-mage and I've done a good job of that, and I deserve some rewards!"

"You have, you do, and you'll get them." He laughed. "Never think I don't appreciate you, Ruby. You've been at my side since the beginning, and I don't think I'd still have my sanity if not for you." They shared a warm smile, but then orange began to glow over Ruby's face, and she turned away, her smile falling.

"The sun is rising."

Jaune felt his stomach drop. "It is."

It was time.

/-/

The morning mist could not hide their armada, but that didn't matter. Jaune stood on the prow of the lead ship alongside Ruby as their sails billowed in magically assisted wind, propelling them at speeds no normal ship could match. They were six ships across, just wide enough to fit through and into Vale's docks, provided the great walls sunken into the water were removed.

Two hundred metres now.

Jaune began summoning aura to his hands with Ozma's aid. Fire, lightning, air, anything he could manage coruscating in a burning and crackling ball of pure aura between his fingers. Flames lit up across the other ships as their most capable did the same, as if they were each carrying a torch that glinted in the morning light.

As they came closer, a spray of rubble rose up from the wall, a mangonel stationed on the walls sending an arching shot of rocks high into the air. Jaune ignored them, and as they rained down with questionable accuracy, some naturally found their targets – or would have if not for the almost invisible shields that his Chosen propelled, shattering and diverting the rocks to the side. The same went for the ballistae bolts launched from the wall, designed to punch holes in ships and fill them with water.

One hundred metres.

"Hold!" shouted Jaune. The other ships would fire on his signal, but he didn't want anyone on his own giving it by mistake. "We need those walls to crumble inward. Hold until the last second!"

Making them fall a specific way wouldn't be easy. If they aimed high then it would fall back, but they might only shatter the top half and crash into the bottom. If they aimed low then they would clear what was in their way, but shoving the bottom back would make the top half of the wall topple forward, crushing them. It would have to be both at once. Aim low, but then apply force high to catch and throw back the falling wall.

Fifty metres.

People were beginning to panic and archer fire was coming from the walls.

Jaune hoped the people on them would flee.

"FIRE!"

They were less than forty metres when Jaune threw his attack at the bottom of the wall, and as Ruby threw further up. Their signal spread and every ship in the front rank, and those for three behind, cast their own spells. A wall of fireballs raced toward the city, striking first at the base with enough force to shatter rock, and then multiple times further up, sending the defenders scattering and running as tone rumbled and cracked.

"SHIELDS!" roared Jaune, as the wall began but did not fully crumble. "FORWARD!"

Calling it a shield was not entirely correct, because it was mostly explosive application of wind, but it was just a command for them to understand. They were ten metres away, on a collision course with the wall, when Jaune and Ruby interlocked two walls of solid wind and sent them crashing into the wall seconds before their ships did.

It was like a battering ram.

Their tipped walls of wind that would normally have splashed off the walls applied force to the crumbling and cracking architecture, and the wall buckled inward. To the onlookers inside, it must have seemed like their wooden ships had some broken the stone walls down on their own, because the Trident smashed through the wall, grating, and cracking its hull wide open. They struck the bits of wall under the water with a horrifying grating sound, but such was their speed that they rode up over and jumped out the water, becoming airborne for a moment. The damage was catastrophic, and the ship would sink, but even as it took on water it landed back inside the walls, crashing into the shallower water, and Neptune twisted the wheel aggressively, crashing the rapidly sinking ship into the harbour walls.

Jaune drew Crocea Mors and leapt off the ship with Ruby and followed by a hundred faunus. It was fight or die now, for the Trident was sinking at a pace of foot every three seconds, and there was no retreat. The other ships in the vanguard were in a similar state, though the ones behind were being a little more careful about getting inside in one piece.

"Hold the line!" Jaune roared. An arrow whizzed past his ear, and he whirled on his heel, launching a ball of fire up at the walls where they were still solid. The fire crashed on the edge and splashed over, and the archer up there darted for cover. "Keep them pinned on the walls, use all the magic you can on the ground. Don't let them close. Remember, they hardly have any Chosen left. We have the magical edge!"

He needn't have said it. The sheer barrage of fireballs, ice, wind and more coming from their small group of several hundred fighters was deafening. Entire streets where enemy soldiers might have come to fight them were burning, and the still standing walls were under such attack by ice and fire that no one could hope to man them. Bells tolled in the city, and horns were sounded. The defenders would react, but Jaune wasn't sure how they'd hope to dislodge them. They were few in number, but the streets leading toward the docks were still narrow compared to an open battlefield. Their magical superiority would put anyone using them under an impossible-to-survive assault.

"Don't get cocky!" barked Ozma. "Not now of all times!"

Jaune grunted, nodded, and fixed his eyes on the palace-temple that rose over the city, seated upon a great rise of rock and earth. They may have had every advantage, but Salem still lived, and would never not live. He tapped Ruby's shoulder and signalled for her to stop casting, doing the same himself. The others could keep up the pressure while the rest of their ships disembarked, but they needed to be ready in case Salem made her move. This war would become two-pronged in time after all. If they came too close to victory, Salem would throw aside all subtlety and bring her Grimm, and then they'd need to fight a second time.

The defenders weren't helpless, however. While they couldn't bring anyone onto the docks to dislodge them, they were still able to arch arrow fire up over the buildings and off the walls further away. It wasn't accurate by any means, with hundreds of arrows clacking down on the cobbles, splashing into the water or thunking into their sinking ship, but some hit and aura was chipped at.

More dangerous was the flaming arrows that arched over them, directed toward the ships still coming in. Those were buffeted away as best as could be managed, but there were a lot of Vale's own ships in the water as well, and flaming arrows knocked aside still found a home on other ships, and some arrows hit them first. Fires spread.

Not quickly, thankfully. Their own – and Vale's – ships were treated to be fire resistant as a matter of their construction, so while it did spread, it wasn't like their own flaming ships at Menagerie filled with straw and doused with oil. Faunus crewmembers were able to run around and quash the fires, but the Valean ones would be lost given time. In an hour, they'd be merrily burning and then the fires might spread. Already, some of their people had made the decision to expedite their sinking by using magic to blow holes in their hulls.

Better they be wreckage underwater than pillars of fire that might spread to their ships.

Things were working perfectly, but Jaune felt when the defenders had regrouped. It was a tangible moment where the sporadic arrows became a hail, and where boulders and flaming pots of pitch were added to the mix. Aura protected from harm, but it didn't protect from the effects of burning oil landing on a person, and many faunus were sent screaming and diving into the water to put themselves out.

Furthermore, infantry could be seen at the edges of the streets, not having the support to push into them, but determined to hold the line and stop them breaking into the city proper. As the mangonels were turned, many missed them as well and shattered through the walls and rooftops of nearby buildings. Homes. Jaune heard screams from within, but the residents wouldn't come out. Even if he shouted for them to do so, they wouldn't listen to him, and it was all too loud for his voice to be heard anyway.

There was nothing he could do but try to end this quickly.

"Chosen!" shouted someone. "Down the main road!"

He saw them. At least fifty women garbed in white robes and silver armour. It was a far cry from the black leather Cinder and Pyrrha had come to Ansel in, but they might have taken on a more ceremonial role now. The Chosen raced into the hail of spells without fear, trusting their aura to protect them while those who could threw magic back at their lines.

Jaune moved to reinforce, but Ruby pulled him back and he soon realised why. The Chosen had made good ground initially but were now slowing. They'd come full of confidence and assured of their superior ability – and likely their divine protection – and yet that protection was already faltering. Several had fallen, and more were struggling under the sheer number of spells being sent their way.

It was a charge of fifty against five hundred, and while those odds used to be good for Chosen versus normal people, it was a hopeless assault against his aura-trained army. The rules of battle had changed drastically, but these arrogant and devout few had not received, or had not believed, the news.

Neither Jaune nor Ruby had to step in as their own students overwhelmed and killed the Chosen. Fifty of Salem's finest, her last resort, cut down at the beginning of the battle, and before she had even taken to the field. Meanwhile, Jaune looked back to see their second wave of ships was making landfall, lashing themselves to the docks without sinking and forming the bridge that other ships would moor against.

Faunus leapt off, reinforcing and relieving those who had held the line. Fresh bodies, and plenty of humans among them. Even members of Raven's tribe were getting involved. Their numbers swelled, five hundred becoming a thousand and ropes lowered into the water to fish out those who had been set alight.

But it wasn't bloodless. The relentless hail of arrows found their marks either in those drained of aura or who had clumsily let it fall, and some rocks from mangonels did crash among their own, crushing people straight through their aura. Jaune couldn't hope to estimate the losses, and in the heat of the moment they didn't matter. Their plan was working. They were gaining ground and had practically overtaken the docks and surrounding buildings.

But the street-by-street fighting would be a slog all the same.

"The docks are filling up!" said Ruby, shouting over the noise. "We need to make room!"

Jaune nodded, then shouted, "Forward! Claim the roads!"

The force of faunus and humans were only too happy to oblige. The defenders had been ranging their siege weapons and bows by that point, and they were falling ever more accurately. The chance to push outward and claim some cover was a relief, and they surged forward as a mass, more scared of staying still than risking melee combat. After all, they had aura where their opponents did not, so it was safer for them than standing around.

Jaune and Ruby took shelter in a shattered building wall to catch their breath. The defenders kept raining down on their last position, and it'd take a little time for them to realise they had moved and find their range again. By now, the water was filled with ships unloading, and a lot of the defender activity was aimed against them, hoping to take down whole ships before the Dark Lord's army could well and truly unload inside the city.

And it was chaotic here, but he could only imagine it was so much worse elsewhere in the city, as citizens panicked and the church struggled to understand what was going on. The madness would be going on everywhere. There was little chance Salem hadn't heard what was happening by now, and her silence was worrying. He'd have genuinely preferred it if she rode out to face him, because at least then he'd know what she was up to.

But they had their plan, and capturing the palace was not a part of it. They would sweep around and capture all the walls first, then the barracks against them and put down the armed defence, capturing whoever they could. Ousting Salem was the ultimate goal, but they couldn't commit to that too early.

"Push them back! Stay together! Keep formation!"

Jaune wasn't sure how well his words carried of if they'd have the sense of mind to heed them, but the plans had been made in advance and they knew them. They also knew better than to rush off alone where they almost certainly would be killed. Their breach had been made, and his army was unloading.

Vale was falling.

/-/

Their city was falling.

Never before had things gotten so bad, and the priests and bishops had already accepted all they could into the church halls, filling them with terrified citizens. They weren't the main problem. The problem was the army, or what remnants were left of it.

"We need instructions!" shouted a young aide to the local garrison commander. "The Goddess needs to give us some bloody direction! We're doing our best out there, but we won't be able to keep them pinned down for long."

"We are trying," said one bishop. "The high priests are communing with the goddess in person, but they have been for over two hours and there has yet to be any word." His frustration showed. "If you want to march into the palace-temple and demand answers then I won't stop you. I've half a mind to myself and—"

"Sir! Sir! They're pushing out the docks. Sir, our lines can't hold – they have too much magic! Our men can't get close without being burned alive!"

"What about the Chosen!?"

"Dead, sir." The soldier's words had the bishops flinching. "They wouldn't listen to us, sir. Said they'd purge the Dark Lord's taint alone and charged right in. They never stood a chance."

The bishop sighed as the aide cursed. He knew the older Chosen would have never done something so reckless, but they were all dead from the failed campaign in Mistral. They had been told – on the Goddess' orders – to elevate all training initiates immediately to the rank of Chosen, the better to exert control on the city.

That hadn't worked so well.

It was uncharted waters for them all. Never had the Goddess seemed so fallible, and never had the Dark Lord gotten so far. This was unheard of, and the bishop wondered if they hadn't all failed her in some way, except that so many fighting men had been executed as traitors who might have stood against the tide now. Vale was weaker than it had ever been, and they had done naught but follow her word.

"Tell me, sirs," he said. "Is there any hope for us?"

"Not unless the Goddess comes down to save us in person," said the aide. "We can't hold the line and we don't even have the walls anymore. Whenever we get close, they can burn us away with magic. It's a hopeless battle and I can't blame any of our men who surrender right now. To put it simply, father, there is no hope without divine intervention."

The bishop stood. He could feel the eyes of so many frightened citizens upon him, so he spoke loud and clear. "Then I shall seek the Goddess' wisdom personally and request she take to the battlefield to deliver us from this evil. I shall make a nuisance of myself until she aids us, and I shall accept whatever punishment comes my way."

The aide and the soldier nodded, relief clear on their faces. "Thank you, father. I know not what fate will befall you with the mood for execution she has been in recently, but I shall forever remember your noble deed this day."

"We shall guard the church while you do so," said the soldier. "These people, at least, we can keep safe."

The bishop jogged from the temple with fear in his heart. Distantly, the sounds of battle crashed over the city, and it was impossible to miss the balls of fire that arched through the sky. Buildings burned and yet more citizens fled to the church. He only hoped the Dark Lord would spare them if he won.

"No. I must have faith, especially in the darkest moments." It was but a short distance to the palace-temple. Short but terrifying. He took to the many steps and ascended them to the great doors. The guards were gone, having joined the battle long since.

The palace was quiet, and yet he slammed into the doors and pushed them open, stumbling through into a dark room where his feet splashed in water.

Red water.

Blood.

It soaked the marble floor, and the bishop froze, staring down at the red ichor in horror. Bodies lay strewn, garbed in white and gold. The high priests lay on their sides, slumped and fallen, and dark shapes hid in the alcoves snarling menacingly. There, at the far end of the hall, the Goddess held up the last high priest by his throat, then noticed the bishop and tossed him away. A black shape shot out the dark, caught the screaming holy man and dragged him away.

"Goddess," whispered the bishop, all too aware of the irony as he stared at his goddess in fear. "W—Why? My goddess, I— I do not understand."

"Nor do I," replied Salem, her feet stepping gracefully over a dead body. "I do not understand how I can give you all so much. I have provided for you; I have protected you; I have given you peace when I could, and perhaps should, have ended you all long ago." Her eyes flashed crimson, and the bishop took a step back, only to flinch as the doors slammed shut before him. "All I asked," hissed Salem, "was that you devoutly follow me. That you do my bidding."

"A—A—And we have! Always!"

"I bid the Dark Lord be slain. I bid Ozma be dragged before me, the babbling and broken man that I reduced him to long ago." Her hand touched his shoulder, and he knew there was no escape. "And yet he is not here. He leads an army, an army I asked my faithful to crush. And they did not. Tell me, should I not be upset with you all?"

I will die here, the bishop knew. I am already dead.

"T—The people, my goddess. I… protect them, at least. They are faithful still. They are loyal—"

"I should have gone with my original plan, but I wished to see Ozma suffer, and perhaps I wished to prove him wrong. To show him that his beloved humans would follow me just as easily as they did him. To make him the monster and laugh as the people he gave so much for hunted him down time and time again. And it was fun for a while. For the first few thousand years." Her smile fell, and her eyes burned into his. "It has been dull for many thousands of years more now. I tire of it, but I shall not let him have his victory. Oh no. If he wishes to rule, I shall let him rule over a world of ash and blood."

The bishop gagged as her hand squeezed and crushed through his shoulder, shattering bone and blood vessels in one go. He slumped, pain coursing through him. "M—Monster," he gasped, drawing a knife and driving it into her breast.

Salem laughed.

"Just think, you foolish child, that had you all served me better than you had, this would have never been necessary. But I suppose it is in the nature of your kind to disappoint me. I have more reliable servants." Salem hefted him on one arm. "Here. Let me introduce you."

The bishop refused to scream as he was thrown to the Grimm.

But they tore screams from him in his last moments regardless. As the woman's skin turned white, and her eyes black and red, and as she whirled away in white robes stained red with blood, toward the grand doors and the city itself.

He only hoped the soldiers would do as they had promised and protect the people, from both of the evil gods vying for control over the city.

Next Chapter: 22nd October

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