Salem Aura Range

The final chamber was unlike anything I'd seen in the Dungeon so far. The architecture of the room barely made sense, both in the context of a dwelling for Grimm or a dwelling for people. Most of the floor consisted of a raised, stone platform – circular in nature. What immediately caught my eye was the edges, since the floor didn't reach the walls at all.

There was a drop at the edge. If we were knocked off, then we'd be falling – goodness knows to where. There hadn't been any staircases in the Dungeon so far, other than the one we'd used to enter. As though to mock us, there was a pile of skeletons at one end of the platform, in front of which paced a huge figure.

"It's an Elder Grimm," Ren whispered. He needn't have. Anything that big had to be an Elder Grimm, much like the one we'd faced in that ruined village. Like the one we'd fought earlier when Ruby had nearly died. This one was bear-like in nature, with a bone white mask and great spikes jutting from its back. The word above its head shone in the light of lit torches; Ursa.

[...]

The Ursa was happy to take the Champion's suggestion, covering the distance between them in four great bounds before swinging a claw down on her position. I saw Pyrrha's eyes widen as she realised the magnitude of their enemy, her eyes flicking to her shield – which would have blocked maybe the tip of a single claw – before she dove beneath its arm and rolled under its legs.

[...]

The giant arm shuddered, the beast roaring its displeasure, but the ginger-haired girl had already backed away. Blake took that chance to leap onto its back, catching a spike in one hand and climbing her way higher. It didn't seem to notice, something I was keen to maintain.

"Come on," I shouted, slamming my sword into its hind leg, gasping at the impact. I must have hit bone, for my arms vibrated painfully. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself on, cutting into it once more, but this time aiming for flesh and muscle. "Keep it busy!"

"Oh it's busy," Yang shouted, darting back as a claw slammed into the ground where she'd once been. "Trust me Sir Blondie; it's very focused right now."

Come on Blake, I whispered, watching the faunus girl scale higher. She weaved in and out of its carapace, moving with a grace none of us could have matched, catching a spike with one hand and using it to flip herself higher. It almost seemed like her eyes glowed gold. Pyrrha's looked towards me, nodding in the monster's direction. Pushing myself up, I nodded back, gripping my sword once more. The Grimm lashed out towards Pyrrha when she came close, maybe sensing her as the bigger threat. That gave me the opening necessary to slash at its other arm, making it fall down, unbalanced.

Weiss shouted, as icy mist appeared across its face, freezing fur and moisture until it covered the monster's eyes entirely. Blinded, it roared its displeasure, but failed to notice the Assassin finally reach its neck.

—B1C9


Suddenly, a gust of air shot through the tunnels, emanating from below. As it passed us, the unlit torches that lined the walls burst to life, dousing the room in a hearty golden glow. The wind continued behind us, lighting up every torch it passed.

"He's killed the boss," Yang gasped. "They're cleared the dungeon!"

"We have to-" Weiss' words were cut off by a high-pitched scream. This one was unmistakably different from the roars before, because it was human. A human had just been killed, and by the tone, brutally.

My eyes widened in horror. "Sacrifices."

"No!" Ruby snapped, already moving. We hurried after her. "How!? They didn't have anyone with them! We'd have seen if they did!"

"Portals?" Nora threw out the idea.

"They don't work that way," Weiss replied. "You can only create a portal to a location you know of explicitly, from its geographical position to how it looks. You need to understand the location. No one could do that for a Dungeon, let alone a temple some thousand-years old. Neither a Paladin, Thief or Illusionist could open one out, either. It's impossible."

Another scream proved the hole in Weiss' theory, and it was followed by several more cries of pain and fear, more than two. This wasn't Roman or Neo being killed.

A cloying feeling washed over me. It was like a sudden punch in the gut to me – one that filled me with nausea and made me want to be sick. I staggered and only just managed to catch myself on the wall.

Blake paused. "Jaune? What's wrong?"

"C-Can't you feel that?" I rasped, fighting past the bile in my throat. "I-It's so heavy…"

"I don't feel anything," she replied. Blake looked back, but the others shook their heads, some more impatiently than others. "Are you sure you don't just have cold feet? We need to keep goin-" She was cut off as I wretched and threw up on the floor. Blake hopped back in alarm. "Jaune!"

The amulet on my chest was burning. It was burning cold, threatening to cut a hole in me with its icy grip. Another wave of nausea hit me, and I stared ahead, wide eyed.

"She's here."

[...]

We made our way hurriedly down the tunnel, hoping against all hope to catch them before a wish could be made. We passed Roman and Neo on the way, unconscious at the side of the tunnel and bleeding from a number of small wounds. They must have been forced against the boss and injured in the melee. They'd have been exhausted from our fight before. Further ahead, I could see a single figure standing before a bright white light.

I could also see the bodies, and the rivers of blood that spilled across the tiled floor. Twenty, perhaps thirty people, all slaughtered. And beyond that still, a dark figure vanishing into a swirling red mist. It winked out of existence, vanishing and leaving behind Watts, the bright light – and her.

Salem.

Everyone gasped as her presence hit them, causing them to trip and stagger for a moment, Ruby even falling to hands and knees before she tried to move, barely able to force herself up onto one knee. Blake was the best of them, high enough level to have some defence, though even then she moved with incredible difficulty, twin daggers pointed to the floor like they weighed a tonne or more each.

I was fine. I'd weathered the storm in the corridor before, and though the sight of Salem sent a thrill of fear through me, it did not weigh me down. I stared up at her defiantly, and scowled when she met my eyes, an amused tint in them.

[...]

"Stand aside, Salem."

The monster chuckled in honest amusement. "And the first in which one has ever dared speak to me in such a fashion. You do so amuse me, Deceiver. Tell me, how is it you stand before me when all else kneel?"

I was about to ask what she meant when the clatter of Blake's weapons striking the ground echoed through the hall. She was on her knees, hands flat on the ground beside her. The Assassin's eyes burned with anger as she glared at Salem. Behind her, Ruby had lost the battle too and was on hands and knees, fighting not to lay flat on the ground.

[...]

A wave of pressure pulled away from us. Everyone else was suddenly able to stand, reaching for their weapons and taking up defensive stances. I spared a glance for Salem, who stood in the air with arms crossed, watching our display. It was clear she didn't intend to interfere. Like Tyrian, she would let her summoner face us.

—B6C8


The world erupted in ice.

Great spikes of blue and white pierced up from the ground, one forcing me back lest it cut me in two. Another came into existence behind me with an almighty crack, brushing ice-cold mist across my face. The attack had missed. Or at least I thought so at first. Looking back, I realised I'd been cut off from the others entirely, trapped now in a winter wonderland with cliffs of ice blocking me from reinforcements. Judging from the alarmed cries of the others, they faced the same, our forces split by pillars and walls of ice.

Territory manipulation. Weiss' mother was a powerful Mage, one far above our level. She had the force necessary to shape the very battlefield itself. And I'd lost sight of her.

And of Watts.

A crash of steel from the other side of the ice begat one more, and then another. Divide and conquer. Willow would break us apart and Watts would kill us one on one. I slammed a fist into the ice, but it didn't budge. The face was too slick, frictionless in an unnatural way. Even slamming my pathetic dagger into it didn't achieve anything other than spitting some shards of ice into my face.

"Damn it!"

Somewhere beyond my ice wall, another shattered and fell to pieces. Battle cries sounded as someone more able than me came to reinforce whomever was in danger. I wanted to help, but Watts would slaughter me if I came at him without a weapon.

Willow. I had to take out Willow. Deal with the Mage first and then the Paladin.

The ice tunnel I was trapped in twisted and turned, but I chipped lines into the ice to mark my path and never came across another, so it couldn't have been a circle. Maybe it would be a dead end, but I'd never know if I stood still and waited to die.

Mages were weak in melee; that was a given. This spell had cut us apart and prevented us reinforcing one another, but it also blocked line of sight, and an open battlefield was one of a Mage's biggest advantages. If I could get close to Willow under the cover of her own spell, then unarmed or not, I could probably take her out. A fight with a Mage was over the moment you closed into melee.

There. Ahead. The ice walls seemed to be getting smaller and judging by the roof I was close to the centre of the room. Willow would be there, and judging by the noise, Watts was still distracted. I rounded the final corner and came across her, almost ethereal in her white gown and with long white hair. She was looking in the opposite direction, her staff planted firmly before her, one hand on it, the other resting at her side.

Gripping my dagger tightly, and telling myself this wasn't Weiss' mother anymore, I rushed in.

Willow was so distracted by Watts' battle that she didn't notice my approach until the last second. The moment her shoulders stiffened, and het feet shifted, I lunged. I was no Assassin, but I had a knife, a clear approach on her back and a high Strength score. The weapon hurtled down toward her neck.

And was caught in a firm one-handed grip.

[...]

When Weiss thrust her hand out, a wall of fire erupted from it and chased toward Willow. I followed it, running around and to the side, my body hidden beyond hazy heat and fire.

[...]

He hurled Yang aside, sending the Brawler skittering across the floor like a stone skipping over a lake.

[...]

Watts and Willow were thirty or more paces away.

—B6C9


There was an expanse of open space which seemed to grow larger and larger by the second, creating a clear divide between me and them.

—B6C10