Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 13]

I rang the bell to signal our departure and made the reins crack with a whip of my hand. The horses tossed their heads and moved forward, tugging the wagon to motion and away from the west gate. The wheels bounced on the rough ground and the bell tolled out, signalling to anyone nearby to move out the way.

The sun flickered.

I looked up.

The world flipped.

Up became down and down became up. The wagon cartwheeled forward and I had a brief moment to push my hands before me to break my fall before I struck stone, sprawling out. Wood clattered and rained down around me, along with bodies. A woman, injured and bleeding, struck the ground next to me and lay still. More crumpled ahead, and the wagon itself crashed down to the side, shattering against a nearby building as the horses lay crumpled and dead.

And then – only after I registered the pain – did the sound of a huge blast tear through the air.

It was followed by a wave of hot air.

Shouting, screaming and frantic orders followed. I pushed down with one hand, rolling myself onto my rear so I could look back. My head was spinning, my eyes bleary and unfocused, but I could see the outside of Vale through the once-closed gates to the city. Wooden beams and posts rained down smoking left and right, and some even fell around me. The line of Soldiers that had stood ready were down, some moving, others unmistakably never to move again.

The gates of Vale were open.

The Grimm weren't through yet. Salem's attack – and it could only have been her – had eradicated all the Grimm between us and her, and that gap had to be filled. Already some were swarming to the open gates, but they were met by reserves of Heroes who pushed forward to form a shield wall. It was thin and tenuous, literally only a man wide deep in some cases.

With a roar, the Grimm crashed into them, pushing the Heroes back through sheer weight of numbers. Unlike the walls, thee Grimm had the advantage of solid ground – so when those at the back clambered over the heads of those at the front, they found themselves in the perfect position to crash down on Heroes whose weapons and shields were engaged.

"ARCHERS!" someone screamed. "LOOSE! CONTINUOUS FIRE!"

Arrows scythed forward, narrowly missing the Heroes and puncturing into the Grimm. They pushed some back but not all. It was inevitable some make it past, and the shield wall was pushed flat in places, Grimm punching through. Those that did were met with spears from Soldiers behind, or by spellfire from the towers, but there were so many, and the horde kept coming. The shield wall was being pushed back.

Doors to houses nearby crashed open. People ran out, screaming and huddling loved ones to their chests. They took to the streets and ran deeper into the city. More came rushing out, until soon the very street was filled with civilians charging away from the gate.

And towards us.

"Shit!" I gasped, hauling myself over the closest wounded person – the woman whose side had been cut through. I covered her body with mine, pushing my face into the crook of her neck. "Yang!" I yelled, hoping she could hear me. "Brace!"

The stampede hit. Driven mad by panic the people swarmed over me. Feet trampled my back, hit my legs and stamped on my hands and arms. Some tripped and fell, pulling down others. They scrambled madly, more akin to beasts than people. The injured we'd been transporting were strewn across the street like debris and the frenzied people cared not for them. All they cared about was escaping the Grimm and fleeing deeper into the city.

Once the horde had passed, I dared to look up, and when I did, I saw the extend of the carnage. Those we'd been transporting were, to a man, dead. Trampled and crushed, even the legendary Constitution of a Hero couldn't stand up to such a beating when already on the verge of death. Tears stung at my eyes and I looked down, desperate to have saved at least one. Blank eyes looked back up at me. Blood oozed from under her head, the impact of the initial explosion that flipped the cart, us in it, having killed her.

"Argh." Yang pushed herself up onto hands and knees. Her hair was a mess, her face blackened; blood oozed from a split lip and a cut above her left eyebrow and she cradled her left arm to her side. "F-Fuck. What happened?" Turning, she looked back. Her eyes widened as she saw the open gates. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!"

My legs ached as I stumbled over to her, offering a hand and then almost collapsing when she took it. We somehow managed to help each other up, clinging together as war raged behind us. The civilians kept running ahead, panic spreading through the city as people risked their lives in a mad dash. To where, I didn't know. I hoped it wasn't the healers camp. We needed that in one piece.

"The wounded," Yang gasped. She looked over them and her eyes watered. "No, no, no. They were supposed to be okay!"

"Wagon is wrecked," I said. "Horses are dead. Everyone on it is dead." I grimaced. "Flipped when she destroyed the gates." Looking back, I saw more and more people feed themselves into the meatgrinder, trying desperately to push the Grimm back out the gates. "We have to help."

Yang gripped my arm. "We're not in a state to do shit, Jaune. Be reasonable."

"Not fight. We can help drag injured away."

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 13]