Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 9]

She scurried back against the wall, leaving me between her and the fifteen or so people.

[...]

"My name is Jaune Arc, student of Beacon, Hero, killer of Cinder Fall." No matter how much I hated the last title, it still had weight, causing a few to flinch. They definitely knew who I was. "Back down now or I will attack."

They hesitated.

And then one brave fool opened his mouth. "He's only one man…"

I didn't wait for the rest to decide. Crocea Mors was in my hand, my sword, my eternal companion. Its blade shimmered as the words over my head changed, knowledge and power crashing into my mind.

I was no faster as a Swordmaster, no stronger, no better than I was as a Blacksmith. And yet, in my strange Skills, as unusual as they were, there were options. Piercing Thrust was termed as a `mighty thrust that pierced the enemy's defences`. It was a thrusting attack that carried me a distance – and it cared nothing for my Dexterity. The moment I used it, I was moving, and at whatever speed the Skill dictated.

It was how I'd caught Cinder off-guard, and it worked just as well here, even if I turned my sword aside at the last second and drove my cross guard into the man's stomach instead. His iron-plated armour should have protected him, but my Skills didn't care for it. My blow pierced his defences, literally. The cross-guard cracked his armour and slammed into his gut, toppling him with a groan.

Spinning, I caught the approaching weapons of his allies with a Dividing Slash, `parting my foe`, though in this case – as Hazel had realised - `foe` did not mean bodies, but armour, weapons and equipment. Blades that ought to have stood up to mine shattered like glass. Twisting into the stunned and confused guards, I lashed out at undefended bodies, drawing blood and knocking them down one by one. The blows weren't aimed to kill, not against guards, but they were savage nonetheless and would require stitches.

"S-Stop him!" someone screamed. "Kill him!"

"Where is the Mage? Bring the Mage!"

"We can't! He was attacked!"

[...]

The next person unfortunate enough to get in front of me tasted four blows that struck faster than I could normally achieve. It didn't feel like flowering petals, certainly not to the woman who slumped with a groan, bleeding badly and with one hand severed. Stepping back to allow someone to drag her away, I faced the seven or so who remained.

[...]

"Well? Who is next? Come on. There's only the one of me, isn't that what you said before?"

None of them moved.

I spat at their feet. "I see how it is. Easy when it's just a helpless girl or under-levelled Labour Caste. When it's an NPC, right? No problem. It's not like they can fight back anyway, so why not kill them? Well, what's the matter? I'm just an NPC as well." I let my Class switch back to Blacksmith to prove the point. "There's two of us, but that shouldn't matter. Two against fifteen. Good odds for you." I held my arms out. "Well? Who wants a shot?"

A few of them grit their teeth, but more backed away, shaking. They looked at me as if I was the monster, as if I was the horrifying beast that would attack an innocent woman for nothing more than money.

Covered in blood as I was, I must have looked it.

"Cowards," I spat, half-turning. I kept one eye on them even as I dismissed them, speaking to Lisa. "Get up. We're leaving."

[...]

"No games now," I called. "Follow or impede our path and I'll strike to kill. Go back to whomever hired you, to whomever bought your loyalty, and tell them that you've failed. Tell them exactly who you faced, and why they should be cautious to send more."

As Lisa and I hurried around a corner and away, not one of them made to follow. They were defeated, both physically and emotionally.

—Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 9]