Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 22]

Salem shrieked in fury and brought her knee up, snapping the blade with one well-placed strike and tossing the Ironwood root to the side. Now free, she pushed a hand against Jaune's chest and sent him flying back with a point-blank spell. Jaune crashed into a tree and slumped to its base with a pained moan.

"No," I gasped, unable to help without a scythe and now with Jaune, the source of my weaponry, out for the count. "Get up, Jaune. Get up!"

"Damn you." Salem gripped her stomach, blood oozing between her fingers. "Damn you a thousand times, Jaune Arc. And damn you for a fool as well. Coming out here in person when you couldn't hope to make a difference."

"I think… ah…" Jaune slapped a hand on the nearest tree and smiled through bloodstained teeth. "I think I've made enough of a difference already."

Ironwood roots grew up around the fallen trees, forming a web of thick metallic vines several feet thick around them all. The forest came back to life, reaching up tall as branches bristled with silver leaves that rustled in the wind. In the distance, I could hear the bell of Vale tolling and the stampede of hooves and feet, the Heroes sallying out to reinforce us and finish this once and for all. And with Salem so injured, they might just do it.

Except that Jaune would die.

He dragged himself into a standing position as Salem approached, a bloody trail from prior or new injuries left on the tree behind him. One hand was flat against the tree, commanding the forest to grow but his other was gripping tightly to the misshapen amulet he wore around his neck, one he and Blake shared.

[...]

His fist opened. The pendant dangled down on its chain, glowing faintly with untold power that had been absorbed when Salem attacked him; when she reacted instinctively to his ambush with her most powerful attack at point-blank range.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 22]