Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 22]

The ground beneath my feet rumbled.

Jaune.

It had to be.

If it wasn't and if I was wrong, I was running unarmed into Salem's grasp so… yeah, it better be Jaune. I didn't want to die. Not yet. Not without making something of my life. Not without achieving something. That was why… That was why I couldn't die.

Why Salem had to die.

Ten feet to the Grimm. It landed on its foreclaws and reared up.

Eight feet. Its red eyes tracked her as best it could, struggling with her speed.

Six feet. It knew she was coming right for it. Rearing back, it brought one clawed paw on high, ready to slice down and crush her.

Four feet. The dried dirt beneath its feet splintered.

Reality crashed back down. Time sped up.

Rock and dirt parted as the thick silver root exploded from the ground, slamming the Beowolf away and arching up into the air. My foot hit the base without pause and took me up it and over the front line of shocked Grimm, above running along a root that continued to grow before me, creating a path of pure silver toward the centre of the formation.

Salem recoiled, stepped back and then thrust out a hand towards me.

The root dipped down suddenly, completing its arch and dodging the attack by only a few feet. I followed it, stamping both boots down and sliding down the steep incline toward the Grimm – or toward the open space that was created when the root smashed down, eviscerating anything in its path and throwing the others back. It dug back down into the soil.

My boots struck dirt. Knees flexed. I leapt forward, under the arms of stunned Grimm recoiling from the sudden attack. The front line now behind me, confused and only just beginning to turn. There were many more ahead of me.

Ducking under the claw of the first and pushing past, I side-stepped a second and waved around a third, gasping as my free space was cut off and the Grimm closed in. I'd soon be out of space to manoeuvre.

A fresh root – or the first, I wasn't sure – erupted off to my left and cut across in front of me, bowling Grimm out the way and killing any unfortunate enough to get in its path. Fresh rumbling behind told of another and I chased after it, hopping over the head as it burst from the ground and weaved forward, then ducking and sliding under it, catching an arm on a branch underneath to flip myself up and on top, surfing the root down into six more Grimm that tried to get in my way and died.

Something dark flickered on the edge of my vision. I dropped and swung, sweeping underneath the root as a blast of pure energy sailed through the space I'd occupied. Tucking in so as not to hit my head and instantly break every bone in my body, I continued my spin until I was back up on top, then jumped off as the root dug back into the ground again. A veritable garden of silver roots was building behind me, entangling and slowing the Grimm's pursuit.

"I need a weapon!" I yelled, unsure if Jaune could hear me. He knew; I trusted him to. All I had to do was keep moving forward and trust in there being an answer. It wouldn't be the first time I'd run into danger without a scythe.

I hadn't stopped while I spoke and dashed past more Grimm, leaving their startled bodies behind to be engulfed by the Ironwood. Salem sent two more attacks hurtling my way, but the distance was too great, the time for me to dodge far too generous. Weaving between them and still having the time to duck and slide under a root that shot up before me, cutting down three Grimm and leaving me the tiniest room to slide underneath, I kept moving. Kept the momentum going. Even when the Grimm bunched up in thick walls of meat and gristle, I ran straight at them.

Jaune's roots forged a path, punching through their lines and giving me a direct route. I jumped off the chest of a dying Ursa and used it as a springboard to get up into the air, catching a growing root by the tip and riding it on, hanging on the precipice of death until the very last second when I jumped off, leaving it to crash down and obliterate anything in its path while I landed in a roll, kicked off and kept going.

I could see Salem now, see her past the Grimm that were thinning out. Her face was locked in a rictus of purest fury. Her wings were beginning to beat, her intent clear. If she took off again, there'd be no hope of getting hold of her. Salem would fly far away and summon her army anew, and this time she wouldn't come anywhere near the city.

I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die.

So… that only left one thing…

Salem had to die.

Heart racing, eyes wide and white, teeth gritted and with absolute terror rushing through her, I charged through the final Grimm and mounted the Ironwood root leading directly to Salem. Mouth open in a scream I couldn't hear, my eyes caught the briefest glimpse of something manifesting in front of me, of something growing up slowly from the Ironwood. A thin branch reaching high with a curved tip.

A scythe.

My fingers snagged the haft as she went, ripping the rough scythe up off the root and swinging it behind me.

Salem swept away on her huge wings, leaving me to shout out in anger and crash down below.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 22]