Forged Destiny [Book 5: Ch. 13]

"I- Jaune!" she gasped. "Your eyes…"

"I know." I could feel them glowing. I could see the pale light reflected off the stone in front of me. "Run to the keep and tell the others, Ruby. Get them here. The battle for Magnis starts now."

We would see it through.

I was certain of it.

[...]

It was technically the second siege I had been a part of, and yet this felt very different to Mistral, larger both in the scale of the fortifications and the army of Grimm attacking us. Magnis' walls were giant, requiring either ladders or siege towers to scale, and there were far more of them winding off to the left and right, wrapping around the houses with an inner-wall surrounding the keep itself. We were all of us spread out and I'd not seen a familiar face for a good hour or two. I did hear their voices occasionally, and since none were raised in screams of agony or grief, had to assume everyone was okay.

[...]

My eyes continued to glow a faint blue with no discernible effects to me or my fighting as I methodically chopped through a Grimm that had mounted the wall before me, ramming my shoulder into its body so that it would die off the wall and not be a tripping hazard as it dissolved into nothingness. In a rare moment of calm, I stopped to catch my breath, panting harshly as I looked over the situation.

Though the Grimm had neither siege towers nor ladders and couldn't have hoped to scale the sheer walls, they had their own methods, and it was both simply brutal and foolish at the same time. The first waves of Grimm had hit the wall and started to attack it – not that their claws could do anything. The second and third had been the same, piling up at the base uselessly and doing more damage to themselves than to us.

But they had formed a foundation. As more tried to push in against the walls, they inevitably stood on the shoulders and bodies of their fellows, cutting a little higher, and this continued on and on until the Grimm had somehow formed a ramp of their own bodies, each fighting to clamber over the other until they'd actually reached the top of the walls.

[...]

Ren caught me fifteen minutes of Grimm-killing later

[...]


Ren and I split up again a moment later, our moment of rest broken by cries of fright from further down the walls in both directions. I reached mine in time to dispatch a lizard-like Grimm and provide six Soldiers some much needed relief, but I was called further on for some more Grimm within seconds. The tide never stopped.

[...]

The question of how we'd retreat while the Grimm were trying to eat us alive went unexplained. Some would fall during it, I knew.

A messenger caught me not twenty minutes later, basically to pass on what I already knew about the evacuation.

[...]

My attention turned back to the Grimm.

/-/

Keeping accurate track of time was impossible, but it was somewhere between my second and third wind, when I wasn't even sure what dredges of energy I was running on, that the horns sounded.

[...]

A claw caught my flank, under my ribs, finding a spot between my armour and tearing through cloth and skin. The wound was superficial, and I pulled away from it, not even able to kill the offending Grimm for the Canis trying to tear out my throat. It was all I could do to keep Crocea Mors roughly central to my body, protecting the important parts as I was surrounded. Something hit my armour from behind, knocking me forward. A claw rushed for my face, and though I was able to lean back, it still nicked my cheek, under my left eye, and sprayed blood upwards.

[...]

Teeth bit down on my shoulder from behind, a snarling head flush against mine as the Canis shook its entire body to try and tear a huge chunk of meat from me. Against all odds, that helped me, providing a buffer from attacks for a few seconds – not that the Grimm cared. They tore into their own to get to me. The mass was overwhelming.

And then, the wind rustled. Sharp blades of visible wind kicked up around me, cutting in a circular pattern and tearing several Grimm to shreds. Those that weren't were blasted back, and the second's reprieve gave me the time to pry my sword free, even as the already dead Canis gnawing on my shoulder dissolved. Sadly, my wounds didn't.

[...]

"I'm fine."

"Damn it, Jaune, you're not!" Ren roared. "Look at you – you're like a river of blood."

I wanted to say that none of it was mine but knew Ren would call bullshit, not to mention I didn't have the time, quickly pressed by a Beowolf which had scaled the walls. Ren was right; I was badly hurt, and the latest attack hadn't helped much. My left shoulder could barely move, something – the muscles, certainly – torn through.

[...]

"Are the Soldiers far enough away?" I gasped, struggling to hold back the Beowolf. Not quite an Ancient Grimm but somewhere in the middle, I tried to parry its claws and failed, but failed so badly that instead of skewering me, it knocked me safely aside. I engaged again, hoping to keep it busy dodging.

[...]

The Ursa swept one paw down and behind it and lashed out with a straight thrust toward me. As it hurtled in, I angled my sword to block it – not to deflect, but to take it full on – and jumped in the air.

If I couldn't propel myself, I'd find someone with the strength to propel me. With my feet no longer grounded, the claw hit me centre-mass, crashing my sword into my breastplate and knocking the air from my lungs. I sailed back, off the wall immediately and through the air, away from the Ancient Grimm. Past the whistling wind and my own agonised cries, I had the sense of mind to curl into a ball.

My impact with the roof of a house was less than kind. I'd expected to crash into it, but I went straight through, bursting through slate and roof beams to crash into the wooden floor of an attic with a cry of pure agony. Something was broken, I knew instantly. But as I forced myself to roll over, I knew it wasn't my neck or back, so it didn't matter.

Through gritted teeth and pain, I forced myself up, limped to the nearest staircase and tried to descend it. My footing failed, and I rolled down, armour bouncing off each step and the wall as I crashed onto the first floor. Not having the time or energy to stand, I pulled myself to the next staircase and rolled down that, too. I managed to roll into a stumble and a stagger at the bottom, not quite getting on my feet but rather some strange, one foot, one hand and a knee animal-like rush. It brought me to a window and I hurled myself out, smashing through and rolling on the stone floor outside.

Not my best landing, nor my best of anything else. The roars behind me told me the Grimm hadn't been idle, as I knew they wouldn't have been. I tried to stand, cried out in pain, and then forced myself to anyway.

—Forged Destiny [Book 5: Ch. 13]