Chương 80: Chapter 73: The King and the Pawn

The Headmaster's office was swallowed by shadows. Leonardo Lionheart was curled into a pathetic, trembling ball beneath his massive mahogany desk. He had been hiding there for hours, ever since he fled the balcony of the Grand Hall. He hadn't lifted a finger to help the students, nor had he tried to assist Cinder's faction. He was entirely paralyzed by absolute, suffocating terror. Outside his heavy oak doors, the sounds of the apocalypse raged.

The deafening screeches of the Grimm, the shattering of stone, and the distant explosions of Dust rattled the framed credentials on his walls. I did everything she asked. Lionheart thought, his hands gripping his mane as he rocked back and forth in the dark. Why is she doing this? We had a deal! I just want to live! Then came the boom. It was a concussive, earth-shaking shockwave that rattled Lionheart's teeth in his skull.

The sound of the "giant robot's" illusionary artillery firing echoed across the mountain, though Lionheart had no idea what was happening outside. Suddenly, the heavy doors to his office splintered inward. Lionheart let out a high-pitched whimper, clapping both hands over his mouth. Slithering and stomping into the room were three Creeps and a massive, muscular Beringel. The monsters sniffed the air, their glowing red eyes locking instantly onto the desk where the terrified Faunus hid.

"S-STAY BACK!!!" The cowardly headmaster screamed in terror. The Beringel roared, raising its massive fists to smash the desk, and Lionheart, into splinters. FWOOSH. A sudden, blinding gust of kinetic wind violently tore through the office. The sheer air pressure blew the windows out of their frames and sent papers flying like a blizzard. Lionheart squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for death. But the blow never came. He slowly opened his eyes. The Beringel and the Creeps were entirely gone.

In their place, a thick cloud of black ash rained gently onto his expensive rugs. The monsters had been obliterated in a fraction of a millisecond by an unseen, impossible force. Minutes ticked by. The roaring outside ceased entirely. The academy fell into a heavy, eerie silence. Lionheart scrambled out from under the desk, panting heavily. His clothes were rumpled, his mane tangled with sweat. He didn't understand what had just happened, but he realized one undeniable truth: the Grimm horde was gone.

"I have to get out of here," Lionheart muttered to himself, his eyes darting frantically around the room. He scrambled toward his hidden safe, stuffing Lien and travel documents into his coat. He was far too compromised. Ozpin's group knew of his betrayal, and Salem's inner circle had abandoned him. If he stayed, he was dead. He turned toward the shattered doorway, ready to run. Gurgle. Lionheart froze. A cold, paralyzing dread washed over his spine.

Floating perfectly still in the center of the office, right between Lionheart and his only exit, was a Seer Grimm. That creature's gelatinous, glowing body pulsed with a sickening crimson light. It was the exact same spy that had been hiding in the rafters, watching the entire Battle of Haven unfold.

"Going somewhere, Leonardo?" The voice that echoed from the Seer was calm, cultured, and entirely devoid of mercy. Lionheart collapsed to his knees, his hands trembling violently as he looked at the floating monster.

"M-My Queen! Salem, please! I did everything you asked! I disabled the shields! I let them in!"

"And yet," Salem's voice replied, chilling the very air in the room, "the Relic remains sealed. Your academy still stands. My forces are decimated. You are a failure, Leonardo. A coward who could not even complete the simplest of tasks."

"Please! Spare me!" Lionheart sobbed, bowing his head to the floor.

"I can still be of use!"

"Your usefulness has expired." The Seer Grimm's body contorted. Four long, jagged, bone-tipped tentacles shot outward with lethal speed, aiming directly to impale the cowardly Headmaster. CLANG! A massive, curved scythe blade slammed into the floorboards, pinning two of the tentacles entirely to the wood. Simultaneously, a heavy, specialized fishing hook wrapped in high-tension wire whipped through the air, tightly binding the remaining two tentacles and yanking them violently off course.

Lionheart gasped, falling onto his back. Standing in the shattered doorway were Qrow Branwen and Clover Ebi, their weapons drawn and locked onto the struggling monster.

"So," Qrow growled, his crimson eyes narrowing at the floating beast.

"This is the spy camera Ozpin was talking about. The one Saitama squashed back in Forever Fall." This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Ugly piece of work, isn't it?" Clover remarked smoothly, pulling the wire of Kingfisher taut to keep that creature restrained.

"Don't let it go, Qrow!" Lionheart saw his chance. With the Huntsmen distracted by the Seer, the Headmaster scrambled to his feet and bolted toward the shattered window, intending to jump to the lower terraces.

"Stay!" A commanding voice echoed through the room. A wave of blue, paralyzing energy washed over Lionheart. His muscles instantly locked up, freezing him mid-stride with his hands awkwardly reaching for the window frame. Marrow Amin stepped into the room, his hand extended, maintaining his Semblance. Beside him, Harriet Bree moved with a flash of lightning, zipping across the room and violently tackling the frozen Headmaster to the floor.

Three Atlesian intelligence agents flooded into the office immediately after, slapping heavy, Aura-suppressing cuffs onto Lionheart's wrists and hauling the sobbing traitor to his feet.

"Target secured," Harriet announced, glaring at the disgraced Huntsman. A final set of footsteps echoed in the corridor. Oscar Pine walked slowly into the office. But his posture was different. His shoulders were perfectly squared, his chin held high, and his hazel eyes radiated an ancient, unfathomable depth. Ozpin had taken full control. Ozpin walked past the Atlesian operatives, stopping just a few feet in front of the struggling Seer Grimm. He looked directly into the pulsing, crimson orb of that creature.

"Salem," Ozpin spoke, his voice carrying the weight of countless lifetimes. Through the Seer, Salem let out a dark, hollow chuckle.

"Ozpin. Hiding in the shell of yet another child, I see. How predictable."

"And you are still hiding in the dark, destroying the lives of others to force an endgame you cannot achieve," Ozpin replied calmly, leaning slightly on The Long Memory.

"Do not speak to me of endgames," Salem's voice sharpened into a venomous hiss.

"Your pawns in the Grand Hall fought well today. But this sudden destruction of my horde... this 'mechanical' miracle. What trickery did you employ, Ozpin? What new piece did you hide on the board?" Ozpin's expression remained perfectly stoic, giving absolutely nothing away. He knew exactly what, and who, she was probing for. He knew Salem feared the anomaly.

"There are no tricks, Salem," Ozpin bluffed smoothly, maintaining eye contact with the Seer.

"Only the resilience of humanity and Faunus, standing united against your darkness. You underestimate our will to survive. You always have."

"Pride comes before the fall," Salem warned softly.

"Enjoy your fleeting victory in Mistral. This game of chess is far from over. I will tear this world down to the bedrock to find what I seek."

"Then I will be there to stop you," Ozpin promised, his grip on his cane tightening.

"I will never give up. Not until you are stopped for good." A cold silence hung in the air. Then, the Seer Grimm violently shuddered. Recognizing that it was captured and its master's presence was no longer required, that creature's red core expanded rapidly.

"It's self-destructing! Back up!" Qrow yelled, yanking Harbinger free. Clover released his wire, and the two veteran Huntsmen leaped backward. The Seer let out a high-pitched shriek before its body rapidly dissolved, collapsing inward and evaporating completely into a puddle of foul, black ash on the Headmaster's floor. Ozpin stared at the ash, his jaw set. He had protected Saitama's presence in Mistral for now. But the war had just escalated to an entirely new level.

Far below the academy, buried under hundreds of thousands of tons of collapsed bedrock and shattered architecture, the air was thick with choking dust. Yang Xiao Long coughed violently, her violet eyes fluttering open. The world around her was pitch black. Her entire body ached, her muscles screaming in protest as she slowly pushed herself up. Her Aura flickered weakly over her skin, recovering at a painfully slow rate.

"Mom...?" Yang rasped, her voice dry and rough. She felt around in the darkness. Her hand bumped into something soft. She quickly fumbled in her belt, pulling out a small, emergency scroll-light and clicking it on. Raven Branwen lay motionless on the stone floor beside her. The bandit leader's skin was terrifyingly pale, her breathing shallow. The brutal siphoning of the Spring Maiden's power by Cinder Fall, combined with the catastrophic collapse of the vault, had pushed Raven to the absolute brink of death.

"Mom. Mom, wake up," Yang pleaded, shaking Raven's shoulder gently, then harder.

"Come on, please." Raven didn't stir. Yang shone the light around their surroundings. Her heart sank into her stomach. They were trapped in a tiny, claustrophobic air pocket barely the size of a small closet. Above them, completely sealing them in, was a massive, jagged slab of solid bedrock, supported only by two crumbling stalagmites.

"HELP!" Yang screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing weakly against the stone.

"IS ANYONE OUT THERE?! HELP US!" Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence. They were far too deep underground. No one on the surface could possibly hear her. Panic began to set in. Yang pressed her hands against the massive boulder above them. She gritted her teeth, pushing her legs into the floor and shoving upward with all her might. The rock didn't even budge a millimeter. It weighed hundreds of tons. Yang raised her fist. The shotgun gauntlet of Ember Celica clicked ominously in the dark. No.

Yang thought, stopping herself. If I blast this rock, the shockwave will shatter the supports. The rest of the ceiling will cave in. We'll be crushed instantly. She looked down at her unconscious mother. If Raven woke up, she could use her Semblance. The Kindred Link could open a portal directly to Taiyang or Qrow, instantly teleporting them out of this tomb. But Raven was entirely unresponsive, her Aura completely shattered. She wasn't waking up anytime soon.

Yang slumped against the cold stone wall, sliding down to the floor. She hugged her knees to her chest, her emergency light flickering dimly. The air in the tiny pocket was already starting to feel stale. It was over. She was either going to wait for her Aura to fully recharge, which would take hours they didn't have, or she was going to wait for the oxygen to run out. She was going to be buried alive in the dark, right next to the mother who had abandoned her. A tear slipped down Yang's soot-stained cheek.

She closed her eyes, the crushing weight of defeat pressing down on her chest. No. Yang's eyes snapped open, blazing with sudden, fierce violet light. She shook her head violently. I refuse. She remembered Ruby's smile. She remembered the terrified but brave look on Oscar's face. She thought of Weiss, Blake, Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren fighting desperately on the surface. She thought of Uncle Qrow, of her dad waiting at home.

And she thought of a ridiculous, bald dork in a yellow suit who had taught her that limits were just an illusion. I am not dying in the dark! Yang forced herself to her feet, rolling her shoulders. She wedged herself directly under the center of the massive bedrock slab. She planted her boots firmly, bending her knees, and placed both of her hands flat against the cold stone above her.

"I... will not... give up!" Yang screamed, pouring every single ounce of her recovering Aura into her muscles. She pushed upward with a feral, desperate roar, her boots grinding into the floorboards of the ruined vault. The golden metal of her Ember Celica gauntlets groaned under the immense pressure. Suddenly, a miracle occurred. The massive rock shifted. Yang gasped, pushing harder. The slab of bedrock actually began to lift! A sliver of light pierced the darkness of the tomb.

The incredibly heavy boulder was moving upward, sliding away from the ceiling with a deafening scrape of stone on stone. It was thrown completely aside, allowing the cool air and the ambient light of the shattered upper caverns to flood into the tiny air pocket. Yang fell to her knees, panting heavily, sweat pouring down her face. She looked at her trembling hands in absolute, pure awe. Did... did I just do that? Yang thought, her mind racing. Am I really that strong? Did I break my limits?!

"Oh, hey. Found 'em." Yang froze. She slowly looked up toward the newly opened hole in the ceiling. Leaning casually over the edge of the pit, completely devoid of his taped-up wig, was the perfectly smooth, shiny, bald head of the hero in the yellow suit. Yang stared, her jaw dropping open as her heroic realization instantly shattered into a million pieces.

"Saitama?!"