Here we go.


Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 83


The city's defenders gave ground rapidly against their advance. They didn't have much chance of holding against their magic, and falling back was a wise move on their part to force his army to expend it. It was the best they could probably manage, and the more overextended his army became, the more chances they had to turn it around and encircle them.

That might have been a bigger problem if his army wasn't so individualistic. Each ship had its own captain, and the crew were sticking together as their own small forces, acting independently and following the orders of their captains. It was the opposite to Vale's own forces, which operated under a strict chain of command. A more rigid chain would have been better in pitched battle, but here, where a hundred men could be separated by streets and buildings, it was better if everyone could make decisions for themselves.

"Jaune!" Blake came strolling up. The woman was drenched in sweat and soot, with her sword bloody. She wasn't injured but looked exhausted.

"Blake. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I've just told my lot to stop advancing." She turned to point. "A lot of the city's defenders have pulled back to the temple and are holding up there. The defence is a lot more determined there, and it's also where a lot of the city's citizens are taking shelter, so none of ours want to make too dangerous an attack."

"They're hiding behind civilians?" cried Ruby.

Blake shook her head. "No. They see us as the monsters, remember. That goes for the civilians too. The soldiers are holding the temple to protect them from us. We can't really use our magic for fear of bringing the building down on their heads."

"And we shouldn't do that," Jaune agreed. "They're not our enemies. What about the palace?"

"Everyone is avoiding it as you ordered."

"And the barracks?"

"I don't know. Taiyang, his daughter and Raven's lot went that way with a force of volunteers. I expect it'll be a foregone conclusion. Most of the city's soldiers are on the walls or in the streets, so their barracks ought to be empty except for the wounded. They'll have taken over by now, and it's obvious their forces are retreating before us."

And the temple was their last stand. It had to be, given it was on elevated ground that rose over the city. That was advantage enough, but the city's defenders were trapped within the walls with them, so they had to make a stand somewhere.

He was more surprised they hadn't chosen the palace, not only because it was even more elevated but because their goddess was there. Maybe they expected him and Salem to be conducting a terrible duel there and didn't want to get in the way.

"It looks to me like this battle is almost over," said Jaune. "And so quickly, too. I'm almost suspicious."

"I'm not," said Blake. "We not only had the element of surprise but we have the magical edge. There's a reason Salem was bale to defeat your predecessors for thousands of years, and that reason was her Chosen. The monopoly she had on aura and magic was what gave her the edge, and now we have that."

He supposed that was so. It was a big swing in their favour, rendering the walls of Vale useless, their archers ineffective and any battleline or formation held against them a death trap. Jaune didn't want to boil it all down to aura and magic, but that was how it felt.

There was just one other problem.

"No sign of Salem or the Grimm?"

"None, and I expect we'd know pretty fast if she joined the battle."

"I don't like it," said Jaune. "She's up to something."

"Almost certainly." Blake sighed. "But that doesn't mean we can sit back and not do anything. It's a stand-off right now, but we can't ignore those people trapped in the temple. Ren is asking you to speak to them."

"Me?"

"Jaune?" Ruby sounded as surprised as he felt. "He'd be the Dark Lord walking into the Goddess' temple. They'd never listen to him." Jaune nodded to her words. "Wouldn't it be better to send you instead? You can represent Menagerie in place of Sienna."

"That would work if they believed Menagerie was independent of Jaune here." Blake gestured to him. "But, as you said, they're religious fanatics. They can't believe we're actually working together of our free will. In their minds, you've conquered or tricked us and we're just your slaves. Any authority I claim to speak with would be dismissed. The same goes for anyone. This isn't a normal siege; this is a holy war; it's two gods duking it out for control of Remnant." Blake snorted, showing she didn't buy the nonsense she was peddling. "That's how they'll see it, and it isn't for us mortals to speak for the gods."

It was stupid, but he could believe it. It was what he'd have believed if he was still living his normal life before all this. The fact they were under siege wouldn't make them any more sensible, nor would it open them to listening. Jaune sighed. Things had been so much easier when Sienna was alive to handle all the complicated stuff.

"I'm willing to give it a shot. Show us there and I'll speak to them."

/-/

The temple was a beautiful building. The fact that it worshipped a false goddess didn't take away from that. The white walls capped with gold reliefs carried scenes from history, and the marble and mosaic floors depicted great moments in the foundation of Vale. Of course, they were also covered with soot and blood, fallen bodies, discarded belongings and hastily erected barricades that had long since been abandoned.

At the front of the temple, the soldiers had erected a wall of wood and furniture across the open door, baiting their enemies to come in from that direction where they could be peppered with arrows. His forces had set up far enough away that it was like a second siege within the first. But they didn't have food or water to last this time. If they wanted to, they could starve these people out in a matter of days.

There were some cheers when he arrived. The faunus were in good spirits despite the warfare. Their losses had been low, the battle swinging their way quickly, and there was the promise of going home after. There was plenty of reason to be in high spirits.

Jaune wished he could share in them.

"Wait here," he told Ruby. He could tell she was annoyed and ready to argue. "I'll need your help getting away if I have to. You'll need to cover me."

Ruby scowled. "Do you think I'm so naïve I can't see an excuse to keep me away from danger when I see one?"

"No. But I hope you'll listen anyway. I'm not likely to be in any danger in there. You know that." He removed Crocea Mors along with his sword belt and handed it to her. Ruby huffed but held onto it for him. "Thank you, Ruby."

"Guh. You're the worst."

"He'll be fine," said Blake, far too tired to put up with their little moment. "There are no Chosen in there and the defenders have been trying to preserve their arrows. They don't have limitless supplies."

Jaune nodded to her and stepped out from the lines to cheers and raised fists and weapons. There was a no man's land leading up to the temple where processions might have once awaited and watched as religious rituals and festivals were held. It was a mess now, much like the rest of the city. Jaune held his hands out to either side, showing they were empty, and walked slowly and purposefully toward the temple's open gates.

Spears were raised when the defenders felt he was close enough. He stopped so as not to panic them, then stood still so they could see his hair and cloak, and so they could figure out who he was.

"I am Jaune Arc!" he shouted. "Son of Nicholas Arc, a simple hunter from the village of Ansel." He took a short breath. "They call me the Dark Lord. They call me mad. I am neither. I would speak to those in charge. Send them out or invite me inside. Let us discuss an end to this battle that does not require any more bloodshed."

He didn't expect an immediate answer, and he was stood there for more than fifteen minutes, hands spread, feeling foolish. But he could tell there was discussion inside. Any decision would take time; they would have to discuss whether to trust him first, then who to send, what to accept, what to do about the Goddess. It probably didn't help that there would be military leaders, religious leaders and civilian leaders in there.

Getting any unified decision would be close to impossible.

In the end, one young man in armour stepped nervously out from the barricade holding a fag above his head. Jaune nodded, and stood still as the man – barely more than a boy – crept up to about twenty feet away and then stopped.

"I—I carry a message," he stammered. "To the Dark Lord—"

"Call me Jaune." He meant it to sound calm, but the boy flinched. "What is the message?"

"They are discussing your offer to a parlay. It is taking time, but they will meet with you. We beg your patience—"

"It's fine." Jaune offered as relaxed a smile as he could. "I'm sure there's a lot of spirited debate in there as to who should lead it and what should be done. You can return to them and tell them I'll wait. If they prefer it, I'll come inside, but I somehow doubt the priests will like that."

"Um. No. Not at all. T—They will come out to you. We just need more time. I'm sorry."

"As I said, it's fine. Tell them no harm will come to them while they decide, but do point out that the sooner we can end this, the sooner we can get to putting out the fires in the city. Not to mention there are still pockets of resistance where fights are happening. My goal here isn't to shed any more blood than I have to."

"Then, if I may," asked the boy. "What is your goal here?"

"To speak with the goddess and put an end to this eternal war between us, one way or the other." The boy wasn't in charge, but Jaune couldn't help but fish. "I'm surprised you're holding up here instead of in the palace with her. Is there a reason? Surely, you'd have been better off there."

"I—I can't say, sir, but we were told not to enter the palace under any circumstances."

"Surely, that means under normal circumstances. The city being invaded must count as exceptional." The boy didn't look like he had an answer, and Jaune let him go. He was nervous enough already. "Head on back now. It was brave of you to come out here alone and deliver the message. Tell them I can be patient. And that they can send out as many people to treat with me as needed."

The boy sprinted back, happy to just be away from him. The soldiers inside accepted him back in, and he was sure letting the boy go would earn him some small amount of approval from them, even if the religious types inside would curse him as evil no matter what he did.

"So, no one is allowed in the palace," he said, out loud. "What do you make of that?"

"Only that Salem is planning something – which you know full well. She will need to be dealt with soon, Jaune. There can be no end to this battle unless she is expelled from Vale."

"How possible is that?"

"It's not impossible. Salem is not a commander and never has been, but even she can tell this battle is lost. It's not beyond all reasoning that she might have vacated and left, either to gather forces in Vacuo or to abandon humanity entirely and take to the Grimm. But," he stressed, "It is just as likely she has not, or even more so. Salem cannot be killed by conventional means, so there's very little risk in her staying to fight. The greatest loss would be to her divine reputation. It would shake her people's faith."

"But that won't matter if she already plans to abandon them."

"Exactly. This is new territory we tread upon, and I cannot accurately say how she will act."

Jaune sighed. He'd just need to keep an open mind and adapt, then. New territory meant more opportunities than his predecessors had, and that was a good thing no matter how stressful it felt.

It took a full hour for an agreement to be made inside and for the barricade to be shifted open enough for a group of some six men and women to leave. Four of them were armoured soldiers, while one man was garbed in priestly robes and the woman looked to be a civilian. Covered in blood – though not injured as far as he could tell. She had several pouches on her hip.

"A healer," said Ozma. "The blood is concentrated on her hands and sleeves up to her elbows where she has been working with the wounded."

Jaune nodded but didn't speak so as not to panic them. He spread his hands again and offered a shallow flex to his legs in approximation of a bow. Surprisingly, the priest returned it, bowing his head respectfully. It was the soldiers who were more guarded, while the healer simply looked tired.

"Thank you for coming," said Jaune. "I'd have had a table and chairs brought up but didn't want to make this seem too pretentious."

"You are the Dark Lord?" asked the apparent commander.

"I am Jaune Arc," he countered.

"Is there a difference?" asked the priest, sounding more curious than aggressive.

"The Dark Lord – or the Dark Lords – are men who were driven mad by the voice in their head," he explained. It was important they believed him sane because any agreement made with a madman wouldn't be worth crap. "They were either men driven to insanity, or ambitious warlords who wanted to be called by that title for the fear it inspired and the power it gave them. I am Jaune Arc, son of Nicholas Arc, and I never wanted any of this. It was forced upon me."

"The mantle may have been," whispered the healer, "but this bloodshed is of your choosing."

Jaune sighed. "I won't argue that. I'm here and I started this, but your people also came to Menagerie to try and slaughter the faunus there. I had no plans to come back. My whole deal with helping them was that I could retire and live peacefully on that island where none of you would ever find me. It was the church that sent their armies and forced us to fight for our lives."

The commander and the priest exchanged glances.

"That is not how we heard it," said the commander. "But we could argue over who speaks the truth for days and get nowhere. You have us at your mercy. For now. There are those of us who still hold out hope the goddess will come and deliver us."

"And do you, sir?"

The man snorted. "Sir? From a god?"

"I'm no god, sir. I'm a normal human man with a little extra power and a voice in my head I didn't ask for. He's not a god either, and he's not shy about making sure I know that. Ozma has never seen himself as a god. It's Salem and your church that labelled him as that."

"Truly?" The priest was, again, curious. "But what would one call a being who can return from death eternally if not a god?"

"You would call him a human cursed to eternal pain," said Ozma.

Jaune relayed the message, and the priest looked shocked and interested in equal measure. The commander, less so.

"Now is not the time for theocratic debate, father. People are scared and starving."

The priest lowered his head, chastened, but Jaune couldn't help but ask, "You seem oddly calm around me, father. Might I ask why?"

"I must remain calm to keep the people in there calm," he explained. "I am not a High Priest, nor even a bishop. I'm simply all that remains. I am afraid of you. Terrified. But if you wish me dead, I will die. There is no escaping that now. As such, I feel no fear. My fate is out of my hands."

Dark, but not untrue. Jaune let him step back and turned to face the one in charge. "Are you the commander of the garrison?"

"The Commander is dead. I'm simply the highest rank here." The soldier faced him down with frustration and anger, and it was clear he wished he could run Jaune through instead. "I can speak for the soldiers in the temple, however."

"That's good enough. You probably don't have much reason to trust my word but I have left captured enemies leave peacefully in the past, in Mistral"

"We know. Those soldiers returned and spread the story of that, at least until the one in charge was executed for treason on the Goddess' orders. Many of his men chose to plead for his safety, and they too were executed. Others fled, leaving Vale entirely rather than face such unfair justice."

Jaune's eyes closed. "What a waste…"

"Youn won't find many soldiers who disagree. Never have we been punished for failure like this, but that would be your fault, wouldn't it?" He sighed. "Tell us what your demands are. We're in no position to fight you off. Know that we will fight to the death in defence of the civilians, however. There can be no harm coming to them."

"We mean none to them. We're here for Salem – no one else. There's a reason we attacked from the sea and only brought the walls down there; it's so that you can reclaim the walls and still have a defended city when we leave."

They all looked surprised. "You are leaving?"

"Every faunus here has a home and family on Menagerie that they're fighting to protect. We don't wane Vale. We never have. Once we have removed Salem, you can reclaim the city. We won't even ask you all leave or surrender now. You can keep everyone within the temple or you can instruct them to return to their homes. What we want is the surrender of your military until such a time as we leave Vale. No prisoners, no executions, no hostages. We're not here for any of you."

"And what would you want with the goddess?" asked the priest.

"That is between Ozma and her – and Salem is no more divine than he is. She's simply a powerful human cursed to eternal life who has seen fit to surround herself with luxury. But shouldn't that be obvious at this point?" he asked. "Where is your goddess? Where is your divine saviour? Where are your high priests who went to petition her aid? Where are your loyal colleagues who risked their lives in Mistral but returned defeated?" Jaune's eyes narrowed. "And why has she attempted to purge all faunus life within the city?"

The solider gasped. "What—!? But there hasn't—"

The priest lowered his head.

"Father, no!" hissed the soldier, and some around them shifted uncomfortably. There were two faunus in the bodyguards that had come with them, and likely many more in the military. "What is he talking about, father?"

"It is something we have done our best to prevent," admitted the priest. "The orders from the goddess were disjointed, hasty, flawed. I would not normally dare question her wisdom, but all of the high priests were in the past weeks. So many executions, so much anger, so much shifting of blame. Such were not divine things to do, and then there was repeated accusations laid against faunus. It was obvious the goddess was blaming all faunus for the ones that stood against her and joined the Dark Lord, but we told ourselves she simply felt betrayed and was angry."

"That changed when her decrees became ever bloodier. When the riots happened not long ago, she came out personally and declared several faunus the perpetrators. We could find no suggestion that they were, but she demanded they be executed. Had she her way, every faunus in the city would have been rounded up and put to the torch two weeks ago."

The soldiers bristled. "We would have never accepted that!"

"Few would, I am sure," said the priest. "Which is why it was decided that we would distract the goddess and hope her temper eased. Our order obfuscated the decrees at every opportunity, though the Chosen were quick to carry out those they heard. We wanted to keep the peace in the city. Keep things in order." He laughed bitterly. "In doing so we became liars, but I will not apologise for it. I swore an oath to protect my flock, and that is what I shall do, even if my soul must be damned."

The soldiers were reeling. The healer just sighed and lowered her head.

"Let the gods sort it out," snapped the interim-commander. "You want to face Salem? Go ahead. We cannot stop you and I won't accept more losses just to prove our devotion. If she wins, I will accept death and claim I had no choice. If you win, I don't know, but we can't stop you leaving peacefully and wouldn't want to stop you." He squared his shoulders. "But we shall not be leaving the temple. The civilians will be too frightened. If you wish to spare us, spare the temple and let us reside here until you are gone."

"Very well." Jaune nodded. "I'll make sure the plaza around it remains clear so long as you don't get any funny ideas of sallying out. Do you have food and water? I don't imagine this battle will continue another 24 hours, but we can have supplies delivered if you need them."

"We have both."

"We need medical supplies," said the healer. "Herbs, bandages, poultices. If you will allow me through your lines, I will collect some from my home and bring them back. I do not need an escort," she added, sighing. "It would not do much good."

"You're welcome to. I'll have one of my most trusted people escort you and make sure no one gets the wrong idea. My forces aren't bloodthirsty. If you show your hands and have no weapons, they'll leave you be." Jaune offered his hand which, after a long moment of staring at it, the interim commander took. "I'm glad we could come to an arrangement that involves less bloodshed."

"I am glad you are not as insane as we were told," he replied, then eyed the priest darkly. "But I am beginning to think most of everything we were told was a lie. You have your deal, Dar— Jaune Arc of Ansel. I trust you will honour it."

"Of course. I—"

A huge, booming roar silenced them. They each flinched, and the soldiers' hands flew to their weapons only for them all to duck as the palace-temple erupted in a shower of rock and masonry. Giant, spiked wings burst out from the stonework, blacker than night, with angry rivers of lava red running across them like veins. The explosive force of it sent huge chunks of masonry crashing down across the city, some even striking their area and shattering on the mosaic tiles.

"What is this—!?" hissed the commander.

"Not our doing," said Jaune. "But I suspect this is the divine intervention you were praying for – though not in the manner you might have hoped."

A serpentine head rose up out of the castle and screeched powerfully. Blackness rose up around it like smoke, and Jaune thought it was until that smoke began pouring down the hillside that the palace was raised upon, and until the many red dots of eyes among them became clear.

"Grimm," gasped the priest. "From the palace? How?" He rounded on Jaune with wide, terrified eyes. "You would set your monsters loose within the city after speaking of peace?"

Jaune turned away from the man. "They're not my monsters, father. And they never have been."

"You have failed me," boomed the voice of the goddess. "After ten thousand years of plenty, you have betrayed me at last. I was a fool to have ever entertained the idea of sparing your kind. You shall all be wiped from the face of Remnant."

It looked like Salem had finally thrown off the disguise.

"It's time," whispered Jaune. "Are you ready, Ozma?"

His only answer was silence.

"Ozma…?"

The manic, terrified, and broken laughter in his head was not a good sign.


Next Chapter: 29th October

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