Forged Destiny [Book 5: Ch. 14]

One of the Ursa had finally crested the wall, stomping its fellows into paste as it did. The Ancient Grimm looked about for prey and saw only me – roaring so loudly that several Canis were blasted off the wall from the force of it. With thunderous steps, it lumbered toward me.

An Ancient Grimm I couldn't kill, not on my own. This was the kind of thing that required a full party with tactics and strategy, and right now I was on death's door. I glanced to the stairs, my retreat, but dismissed the notion. This thing would just jump down after me and probably crush me in the process. Instead, I held Crocea Mors before me, ready for its attack. In the distance, I thought I heard Ren cry out for me to run.

But there just wasn't the time. To turn was to expose my back to the Canis, to fight was to die. I needed distance, distance I'd granted Ren but could not grant myself. There would also be no last-minute save here, with everyone else no doubt fighting for their own lives across Magnis. 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.

—Forged Destiny [Book 5: Ch. 14]