Chương 131: Chapter 124: The Queen's March

The sky above the Land of Darkness wept a perpetual, bruising rain of ash. It was a desolate, jagged wasteland untouched by the warmth of the sun, a kingdom of nightmares where the air itself felt heavy with ancient, suffocating malice. The colossal, rusted iron doors of Evernight Castle groaned as they slowly pushed open. Salem stepped out into the bruised, violet atmosphere. Her appearance was striking, a terrifying evolution of her dark majesty.

She wore an elegant, flowing black gown accented with blood-red crystalline structures that mirrored the veins pulsing beneath her stark white skin. Her platinum hair was woven into intricate, towering loops, and her eyes burned with the absolute, unyielding darkness of a goddess scorned. She did not walk alone. Surrounding her, blotting out the ashen sky, was an apocalyptic swarm of winged Grimm. Massive Nevermores cawed deafeningly, their razor-sharp feathers cutting through the wind.

Flocks of Griffons, Sphinxes, Manticores, and swift Teryxes circled the castle spires. Amidst the swirling vortex of monsters flew the towering, bone-plated Beringels, their massive, newly grafted black-feathered wings beating with thunderous, unnatural force. Salem looked up at the terrifying, customized army of airborne monstrosities she had actively forged. For millennia, she had been the master of the shadows, orchestrating the slow, inevitable collapse of humanity from the safety of her throne.

She had moved her pieces with infinite patience. But her patience had entirely evaporated. She had seen the anomalies. Her immortal mind replayed the impossible, reality-breaking variables that had continually disrupted her grand design. The invincible bald man in the yellow suit and white cape who had defended Vale. The colossal, city-sized super robot that had eradicated her horde in Mistral. And the blinding, apocalyptic silver titan of light that had vaporized her Leviathan in Argus.

Though her inner circle believed the latter two anomalies were separate entities, Salem still perceived them as an escalating sequence of otherworldly glitches in her eternal war. She firmly believed the bald man, the root of this frustration, was still stationed in Vale, acting as the kingdom's localized deterrent. She was done waiting in the shadows. She was done allowing these alien, unknown forces to dictate the pace of her endgame.

Salem walked with slow, purposeful strides across the cracked obsidian earth, approaching a vast, sprawling canyon filled with bubbling, black liquid. The Grimm pool churned and hissed, reeking of primordial destruction. Salem stood at the edge of the tar-like abyss. She raised her pale hands, channeling her dark magic. The pool violently erupted. Slowly, an impossibly colossal shape began to rise from the depths. Thick, black sludge poured off its bone-plated hide like waterfalls.

It was a whale-like Grimm of staggering, mountainous proportions. Its massive jaws groaned open, revealing cavernous, fleshy depths, while towering bone spikes jutted from its broad back. As the colossal Grimm of the skies fully surfaced, hovering just above the churning pool, a fleshy ramp extended from its underbelly. Salem glided forward, ascending the ramp and stepping directly into the belly of the beast.

With a deafening, bass-heavy groan that shook the very tectonic plates of the continent, the whale Grimm began to ascend. It lifted its massive bulk into the air, its anti-gravity biology propelling it higher and higher. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The entire army of winged Grimm swarmed around it like a dark, protective halo. The whale Grimm breached the ashen clouds, leaving the bruised, violet skies of the Land of Darkness behind.

It broke through the atmosphere, entering the normal, bright mid-day sky of Remnant, casting a shadow the size of a city block over the ocean below. It turned its massive nose forward, charting a direct course for the northernmost continent. Inside the belly of the whale Grimm, the environment was a grotesque, biomechanical marvel. The ribcage of the beast formed a massive, cavernous cathedral of bone and purple, pulsating sinew.

At the far end of the chamber, a twisted, gothic throne of fused Grimm bone had been constructed. Salem walked gracefully up the steps and took her seat upon the throne. Her expression remained deadly serious, her crimson eyes scanning the empty, fleshy hall. From the dark, shadowed crevices of the biological chamber, numerous figures began to emerge. They gathered at the foot of the throne, their red eyes glowing in the gloom. They were wolf-like Creatures of Grimm.

But they possessed a terrifying, distinct variance from standard Beowolves. Some of them stood perfectly still on all four legs, their muscles coiled tightly beneath heavy bone plating. Others stood entirely bipedal, their postures unnervingly humanoid and intelligent. They were her elite trackers. The Hounds. Salem looked down at the pack, her voice echoing softly against the ribbed walls.

"The board has been altered." Salem commanded, her tone absolute.

"When we reach the frozen kingdom, you will deploy. Scour the city. Find the one who is like you among the vanguard." Salem narrowed her eyes.

"And... search the shadows for the anomaly. Anything, or anyone, that defies the natural order. Find the secret weapon that shattered the Haven door." The wolf-like Grimm did not merely snarl or howl in response. They lowered their heads, bowing their horrific, bone-plated faces toward the floor. When they spoke, their voices were a terrifying, heavily distorted synthesis of multiple tones, layering a deep, guttural growl beneath a hollow, distinctly human cadence.

"Yes... Lord Salem..." The Hounds answered in perfect, chilling unison. Possessing human-like intelligence, the pack immediately turned and dispersed, melting back into the fleshy shadows of the whale's bowels to prepare for their hunt. As the Hounds vanished, the distinct, heavy clanking of armored footsteps echoed from behind the throne. A solitary figure stepped out from the shadows, taking its place at Salem's right side.

The figure was entirely encased in sleek, terrifying black armor, accented with jagged, stark white plates that perfectly mirrored the aesthetic of the Creatures of Grimm. A tattered, blood-red cloak hung heavily from its broad shoulders, draped over a distinctly slender, humanoid physique. Its face was entirely obscured by a frightening, stylized wolf-shaped helmet, the eye-slits glowing with a faint, predatory red luminescence. This Grimm Knight was unlike anything born from the dark pools.

The armor itself appeared to be a flawless, impossible fusion of cold, metallic alloy and living, biological Grimm tissue. It breathed with a slow, rhythmic hum, radiating an aura of concentrated, overwhelming power. Salem raised her hand. From a dark puddle on the floor, a gelatinous Seer Grimm floated upward, its tentacles clicking softly in the air. Without turning her head to look at the armored figure beside her, Salem gestured to the Seer.

The creature's bulbous head glowed, projecting a crisp, high-definition image into the air. It was a picture of Oscar Pine. However, the image zoomed in tightly on the boy's face. The posture, the set of the jaw, and the ancient, calculating depth residing within his hazel eyes... It was the undeniable, unmistakable presence of Ozpin taking control.

"You know well who he is..." Salem whispered, a cold, venomous hatred lacing her words. The Grimm Knight stepped forward, its armored boots clicking against the bone floor. The figure tilted its wolf-shaped helmet, observing the projection with a cold, terrifying stillness. It noted the face. It memorized the eyes.

"Get him to me," Salem ordered. The Grimm Knight offered a slow, deliberate bow. When it spoke, its voice was a heavily distorted, metallic echo that sounded like grinding iron.

"Consider it done."

The exterior of the colossal whale, the freezing, high-altitude winds whipped across the broad, bone-plated back of the flying behemoth. A biological hatch dilated open on the beast's upper ridge. Salem emerged onto the exterior, stepping confidently into the howling gale. Her black dress and intricate hair remained entirely unbothered by the violent wind. A moment later, the Grimm Knight stepped out behind her, the red cloak snapping furiously in the sky as it took its place as her silent, lethal shadow.

Salem stood at the absolute apex of the whale Grimm, staring straight ahead. No more manipulation. No more games. Her crimson eyes were completely filled with unadulterated, world-ending determination. She raised her right hand, gesturing sharply forward, issuing a silent, absolute command to the swarm. Instantly, the skies darkened. The massive army of Nevermores, Griffons, Sphinxes, Manticores, Teryxes, and winged Beringels surged forward.

Their wings beat in a synchronized, thunderous rhythm, drastically increasing their flying speed as they formed a massive, apocalyptic spearhead around the whale. Salem watched as her armada cut through the clouds, moving relentlessly toward the northern side of Remnant. Toward the frozen continent of Solitas. She would secure the Relic of Knowledge. She would tear open the Atlas Vault and claim the Relic of Creation. She would accomplish her goal by force. The anomalies had disrupted her plans for the last time.

If her inner circle could not handle the shifting board, she would ensure her victory personally. She would bring chaos to Remnant with her own two hands.