Forged Destiny [Book 4: Ch. 10]

"The walls aren't going to last," Qrow said, grabbing me by the arm as I'd been about to run over and engage another Grimm. It took me a second to recognise him, so exhausted and lost in the fight was I. When I did, his words filtered into my mind and my eyes widened.

"Qrow? When did you get here?"

"I've been here half an hour," he said – looking like he was surprised I hadn't noticed. I'd been so focused on the battle, I'd barely perceived anything.

[...]

Was I not a Hero? Was this not my responsibility?

It was – and I felt a strange calm descent on me as I realised it. Accepted it. Embraced it.

[...]

Ancient Grimm didn't mess around, and although this was nothing compared to the one we'd fought in the Dungeon, it was still a foe beyond my exhausted and battered self.

That should have terrified me, but it didn't. I felt a strange clarity that even I knew was wrong. Crocea Mors was levelled towards it.

I should run, my mind pointed out. I should flee. I should scream. I… I shouldn't feel this calm. But I did, and as the Ursa loped towards me, I shifted my feet and prepared myself to meet its charge. It would surely crush me, but one good cut would put it down and give the others a chance to escape. That would be enough.

As it came near – my eyes began to glow.

[...]

I was the same, and suddenly felt a fresh wave of exhaustion wash over me, almost like a shroud had been lifted and the fatigue I'd been hiding all along had been revealed at last. I stumbled and nearly fell – might have, dropping Cinder across the floor – if not for Qrow catching us both.

"I wondered when you'd go," he laughed. "I was surprised at how well you handled it out there. I've never seen someone look so steady in the face of death. That some kind of Knight Skill for holding the line?"

"Something like that," I mumbled.

—Forged Destiny [Book 4: Ch. 10]