Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 9, Ch. 10, Ch. 11, Ch. 12, Ch. 13]

Salem raised a single hand toward the walls.

"PURIFY!" Ironwood screamed.

I slammed my hands down, palms against the metallic floor – the whole tower was one piece of Ironwood. I pushed my power into it, eyes glowing as I cast `Purify Object`.

A bright white light flashed from the augur's view.

Something struck me. The tower shook. Pain roared down my arms and I was blasted off the floor with a scream. I hit the ceiling, body slamming against it. I fell to the floor, caught at the last by Winter who slid under me to break my fall.

My hands were smoking, my fingertips burnt. Every muscle in my body felt like shit and my head was ringing. Woodenly, I looked to the augur showing the CCT in time to see wispy tendrils of white smoke pooling off it. The tower glinted and held.

"D-Did it work?" I asked, voice slurred.

"Yes," Winter said. "The blast struck the tower and it held. Unfortunately…"

My eyes widened and roamed to the first augur, the one watching Salem. Her hand remained outstretched, smoke also coming from it. Before her lay a wasteland. Grimm had been annihilated; the ground churned up. Nothing lived, all caught in the blast. The devastation continued toward the wall and my heart fell.

The wall had been torn asunder. A section some hundred metres wide blown to rubble, and bodies strewn out on the ground before, on the wreckage and behind it, still and unmoving. The defenders nearby were paralysed, staring at the broken remains of Vale's defences. Defences Salem had blown open with a single spell.

Satisfied, the Goddess stepped back to her throne and sat, as fresh waves of Grimm poured forth.

Defenders did the same, metal shields clamped down behind the wreckage to form a makeshift wall, while others dragged bodies away and more poured forth with swords, spears and bows, ready for the brutal melee that would ensue.

We hadn't even been the target. The wall had taken the brunt of the attack, and the spell must have been aimed upward, travelling over the city and hitting us by mere accident.

[...]

On the augur, Salem raised her hand again, this time toward the tower. He could almost feel her idle curiosity. "It comes!"

Screaming, I slammed my hands down again. "Purify Object!"

My entire world burned.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 9]



Winter came over to kneel by me and lay a hand on my shoulder. "Are you well?" she asked.

"I – Yes."

"Do not lie. I must trust you at your word and it lessens our odds of survival if you conceal your exhaustion from us. Lives depend on your honesty."

"My hands," I said. "They're burning." Turning them palms up, I let her see the red and blistered skin that dotted my palms and fingers, all the way down my wrist and stopping halfway toward my elbow. "I don't know why."

"Residual spell burn. It's a known issue among Mages." Winter took a canteen from her waist and unscrewed the top, pouring cool water onto my hands. I hissed in a combination of pleasure and pain, my hands simultaneously screaming in agony and relief. "It happens when someone casts a spell too exhaustive from them, but also when someone defends an aggressive spell – often while using barrier-based magics."

"I've never seen Weiss get this."

"That would be because Grimm don't use magic. Well, until now. I expect there was never a need for Weiss to use a barrier, if she even knows one. She would find it easier to make a physical barrier of ice and that's not the same. I suppose you would best understand it as a shield. Imagine you used a shield to stop a fire-based attack. Though you would block the fireball itself, the shield would heat up, potentially burning your hands." Winter took mine and gently worked my fingers. "That is what happens here. You are feeling the spell burn from blocking her attacks."

I wanted to ask why I'd never been warned about this, but the answer was obvious; I'd never bothered to look into or ask for tuition on magic. It had never been relevant. With the water washing through my fingers I could feel some tingling coming back, followed by more pain but of the aching variety. At least I could move my fingers again.

"What happens if I take too much?"

"Your hands will burn and burn until eventually you cannot cast. You will not die to it, but sooner or later you'll simply be unable to move your hands at all."

[...]

On the screen, the breach could be seen in all its horrifying glory. The wall had exploded inwards, with huge chunks of rubble crashing through buildings, some of them houses. The rooftops of those houses had always been blasted away and were smouldering faintly. Salem's attack had been aimed up, whether by luck or some twisted mercy – or more likely a desire to prolong the suffering – on her part. As such, a great chasm hadn't been cut through the city killing everything in its path. Had there been any civilians on the top floor, however, then they were most assuredly dead.

[...]

It was hard to miss Salem's attack cutting a swathe across and over the city.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 10]



"Again!"

"PURIFY OBJECT!"

The tower rocked under the assault. My body and mind were rocked as well and I bit down, riding it out with my teeth clenched together. Dull pain throbbed through my jaw. The trembling subsided, the tingling and burning sensation in my hands dimming.

"Another!" Winter warned.

I pushed down again. "PURIFY OBJECT!"

A fresh wave struck the tower, imbued with my spell, and yet again the black energy was blown aside, shattering left and right of the tower and burning in the air, fading away in motes of dark light. Yet again, the tower stood, gleaming and unbowed.

The same could not be said for me.

"Hold." Ironwood commanded. "There doesn't seem to be any more coming."

"You did well," Winter said, kneeling and holding out a canteen of water, pouring it out over my hands while I moaned in relief. The crystal water, cold as ice, felt sinfully good. "Take a break," she said. "We'll shout if another attack occurs."

"I doubt there will be," Ironwood said. "She only ever launches three."

I'd noted that as well, though I'd been afraid to point it out in case she tossed a fourth and my words cost us the CCT. It seemed like the thing she might do. But every day now, Salem cast three spells on the CCT. Three just so happened to be as many as I could block before spellburn set in. Coincidence? Probably. It wasn't like she was modulating her attacks to suit my needs.

"At this point I've no idea what it means," Ironwood said. "It could be that her spell is draining, but it might just as easily be her way of gauging your location. By casting on the CCT she ensures you are here at all times."

"Why is she afraid of me…?"

"I doubt she is. It's more the versatility of your spell. If I wove the walls of Vale with Ironwood as I'd originally planned, you could make the walls impervious to her attacks. Perhaps even to the Grimm themselves."

The initial rush of joy I felt was muted with a cold dash of reality. I couldn't sustain my spell. It was cast for a moment and only lasted a few more. The amount I imbued the CCT with was drawn aside by the very attack it blocked, so it wasn't like I'd have been able to make the walls completely invulnerable. At best, I could block a couple of attacks. Three to be precise.

He had a point, though. Salem might want me kept here and away from anywhere else, where she needed her spells not to be interrupted. Even knowing that might be her plan it wasn't like I could afford to travel. The CCT was too important to give up.

Looking through the Augur, I could see that the Constructs were still holding the breach in the wall. Penny was there, a whirlwind of green energy – and she'd been there since the first moment the wall fell, fighting ceaselessly and killing hundreds or even thousands of Grimm in what had to be almost sixty hours of constant combat for her.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 11]



Since then I'd returned to Winter and the CCT, throwing myself into shielding yet more blasts against the tower. Three again.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 12]



As for twelfth day of the siege of Vale began, the wounded had increased significantly.

Saying twelve days didn't fully describe it. It was twelve days and twelve nights, twelve instances of a full twenty-four hours of fighting, with Grimm that never tired, never slowed and never ceased in their assault.

[...]

Ironwood was still unsure why Salem wasted time attacking us at the CCT day after day when she could be cracking the walls open.

[...]

As it was, Ironwood was toying with the idea of using me as a shield from which to launch an attack on Salem once she had to enter the city proper and we could close the distance. The basic idea was a high-powered spell or array, with me blocking her attacks with a shield while they took the shot.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 13]