Camelia moved at the same moment as the warlord began her nod, moving faster than anyone that Annie had ever seen up to this point. In her eyes, the sword saint became a stream of light, covering the distance in ten steps between Ygrite and herself in a single bound. The sword, still locked in a scabbard, struck forward like a lightning bolt, aiming to bite the warlord across her shoulder. Even Ygrite herself seemingly found herself in a shock, stepping back to avoid the mighty swing. The sword moved across the fur on the paws of the warlord, failing to touch the skin by a millimeter. In a single fluid motion, Camelia returned her weapon back into her belts, striking once more and creating a wide blurring arc in the air, tearing through the cargo pants on the knees of the warlord and making the massive being take another step back, evading the blow by the hair. Once more, Camelia put her weapon back, just in time for Ygrite to start her own attack and throw a punch with her right paw. The warlord timed her attack based on the previous move of the sword saint, and had Camelia moved with the same speed as before, the sword saint would have either had to dodge or she would have been hit. Only this time, the quickdraw slash came at an even greater speed. By attacking with the same speed during the first two attacks, Camelia lured her opponent into a false sense of security. And now the ornate scabbard of the sword saint tore through the turtleneck and left a bloody line across the Ygrite’s chest, striking across the right paw of the warlord and throwing aside the mighty punch of the warlord. Annie felt something hit her. It took her a fraction of a moment to understand what it was. The slash of Camelia moved so fast that it passed the speed of sound, creating a small sonic boom in the air.
Annie felt her heart sink at such a casual display of dominance. This was not surprising, not in the slightest. Camelia beat Zero, the first of the warlords. Third among the sword saints, this woman was a living testament that sword saints were superior fighters compared to warlords. But watching Ygrite jump back, shaking off the pain from the dent on her arm, was too disheartening to watch. The pride of the Wolf Tribe is about to be shattered again. The sword saint came to a halt two steps away from his opponent, no longer pressing the attack.
"Cousin, please forgive my harsh words from before," Camelia put her sword back behind her belts, her voice was filled with sadness, "I will pay for the cost of your clothes. Your tenacity deserves respect. We also have good massage parlors. Let us stop this senseless fighting and go have a proper evening as befits ladies."
"Now, ain’t that an interesting offe…" Ygrite loudly blew her nose once more, grabbing her nostrils with her right paw and trembling with all her body as another eruption came from her nose.
"Are you alright, lady Ygrite?" Camelia asked in a worried tone, making one step closer.
"Yes, just this damned col…" Ygrite’s body trembled once.
At this moment, the warlord launched an attack. When Ygrite leaned forward in a fake gesture of blowing her nose, the right paw of the warlord made a chopping motion toward the lean neck of the worried looking Camelia instead. The left arm of the warlord struck forward as well, aiming to grab the sword saint by her side.
Camelia only smiled, striking once more with her sword still in the scabbard. Her quickdraw technique was perfection itself, even inside the sheath, the sword caused the very air to scream. This time, Camelia aimed her attack at the ribs of her opponent. A smile disappeared from the lips of the sword saint when her scabbard ended up being locked between the paws of the Ygrite. Annie could see that the sword saint timed her attack perfectly, but the wolfkin fell for the warlord's trick. The heavy-breathing warlord looked into the eyes of the sword saint.
"You know what is the best quickdraw strike?" Ygrite asked Camelia in a rasped voice, causing the woman to lift her brow in surprise. This moment of surprise cost the sword saint. The warlord kicked with her right leg, aiming for the abdomen of her opponent. The force behind the blow sent Camelia back, leaving the scabbard in the paws of her opponent, while the sword itself was unsheathed. Ygrite smiled and continued, "First one. All following up attacks from the quickdraw stance are easier to predict with each new attack."
Upon seeing her opponent, the warlord's smile disappeared. Camelia was unharmed. Before the brutal kick of the warlord could reach its mark, it ended up being absorbed just in time by the left paw of the sword saint.
"Ain’t making it easy for me, huh?" Ygrite asked in a cheerful, strained voice, throwing the scabbard in the air and catching it with another paw. The warlord rolled her trophy behind her neck, playing with a masterfully crafted piece of art like a cub plays with a dried up branch of wood. Still tossing the scabbard in her paws, the warlord loudly inhaled air, before continuing speaking, "Sheesh, why is this thing so heavy? No wonder you had trouble sneaking around."
"According to information available to the Ice Fang order, you are the weakest of the warlords. Nonetheless, your quick attacks and combat sense are impeccable. Could it be that we will need to reevaluate the ranking of the warlords?"
"Eh, after losing so many times, even I will pick up a few tricks." Ygrite responded to the sword saint.
"I'll remember your lesson, lady," Camelia stood up with a smile on her snout, once more fixing the position of her jacket, "My scabbard, please." The sword saint asked and extended her arm toward the warlord.
"Sure, have it back, lady," The warlord shrugged her shoulders and casually threw the scabbard at the sword saint. The sheath spun in the air several times, flying toward its owner. With graceful movement, Camelia lifted her sword, catching the scabbard on the tip of the deadly looking weapon. The sheath soundlessly slid across the weapon, producing a soft clicking sound upon connecting with the hilt of the sword.
A white explosion devoured the world before Annie for a brief while. The flash grenade, hidden inside the scabbard by the Ygrite, exploded right in the face of the sword saint, temporarily blinding the woman. The warlord leaped right after the explosion, closing in on the woman. The left palm of the warlord was meant to land upon the lean neck of Camelia. The air screamed, when the chopping strike of the warlord hit the empty air. The sword saint circled to the left of the warlord, hiding in the blind zone. The sword covered by the scabbard struck forward, once more moving faster than Annie could see. Ygrite caught the sword in the space between her right shoulder and neck, growling from the pain of the strike and helping herself with her right arm to hold the weapon trapped. Such was the force behind the blow of the lean sword saint that the right leg of the warlord ended up getting buried to the knee in the ground. Without looking at the opponent behind her, the warlord struck with her left elbow, landing a brutal hit on the graceful form of Camelia.
The sword saint ignored the hit from Annie. For someone like her, it felt like the sting of a parasite or even less. The beautiful woman failed to replicate this feat with an elbow strike from the warlord. The mouth of the sword saint opened wide in a gasp of pain. The blow that could have easily punched through the front armor of a tank now speared the sword saint. Letting go of her sword, Camelia ducked low, sliding from the elbow strike like a stream of water. Ygrite found herself in the air when the low kick of Camelia sliced across the ankles of the warlord. A second kick landed in the chest of the warlord, sending the woman flying toward Annie and Angoro. Like a cannonball, the body of the warlord crashed into the ground near people, sending dirt and ground in all directions. Ygrite rolled to the side, standing up and wiping a stream of blood from the corner of her mouth, looking warily at the sword saint.
"Your tactical decisions and speed are commendable," Camelia said as she caught the spinning blade in the air and slid the scabbard back behind her belt. Her eyes narrowed and she spread her shoulders wide, "It seems we will really need to reevaluate our ranking of the warlords."
"Oh, please, I can’t sustain my peak for long," Ygrite coughed out a drop of blood onto her palm. Seeing the surprised look of Camelia, the warlord explained, "Not from the kick. One of the fangs punctured something inside of me. Okay, this is enough for today." The warlord threw her arms up.
Annie looked at the warlord in shock. Angoro just chuckled. The sword saint turned into a statue. Her paw was already on the sword hilt, lean form was ready to attack. Blinking once, Camelia’s facial features turned from stone-faced concentration to that of surprise, narrowed eyes opened wide, brow lifted.
"Beg your pardon?"
"I know that look on your face," The warlord loudly inhaled air before bursting into strained laughter, "You were about to take me on seriously and kick my ass. I think I’ll pass on that part of a duel, thank you very much."
"You... you are an odd individual, lady Ygrite," Camellia straightened up, disbelievingly looking at Ygrite, "Even despite your mutation..."
The sword saint jumped back into combat position upon hearing a growl. The warlord dropped into her own combat stance, hunching low and giving out a loud growl. Drool mixed with blood fell from her lips.
"You just had to push me over the edge, didn’t you?" The warlord hissed, raising her arms, "Looking all superior to us, treating us like second-class beings, calling us names…"
"I never intended to purposely insult you in any way, lady Ygrite…" Camelia put her paw on the hilt of the sword. The sword saint spoke slowly, trying to deescalate the situation.
"I am not a mutant. Get it through your thick head. Unleash your sword. You want to have a serious fight? Here we go then." The eye of Ygrite opened impossible wide, the edges of the eyelid getting torn and spilling out tiny drops of blood. The body of the warlord shook, sweat appeared on her head, falling from the edges of her fur. The pupil dilated and wildly swayed in the eyeball. Instead of veins popping on the mighty arms, countless fangs pierced the turtleneck cloth covering the arms of the warlord. Blood soaked the gray material of the turtleneck, covering her arms in crimson. A thin line ran from the lower jaw of Ygrite, all the way to the neck. Annie saw in shock how the lower jaw and neck of Ygrite opened wide like a mandible of some insect, a hole that led down the throat. A long tongue fell on the neck, covered in countless cuts and looking like a dead leech. The warlord took a breath. This time, air went into her lungs with ease. The eye of Ygrite closed to its normal size. Her pupil stopped moving, locking down on the figure of the sword saint.
The warlord moved. For the first time in the evening, Ygrite moved with the same speed as her opponent. Unlike her gracious opponent, Ygrite resembled a comet wreathed in flames of rage and fury. Her steps left traces on the ground, causing chunks of earth to fly in the air. Her assault was met with a gleaming blade. For the first time in the evening, Camelia unleashed her blade in defense as well, making the heart of Annie go crazy. A net of blinding strikes stopped Ygrite in her tracks, slashing the tips of her fangs at the arms of Ygrite. The wolfkins of the Wolf Tribe were famous for their hardy fangs and claws. Yet even when compared to fangs, claws were the main natural weapon of the Wolf Tribe.
And as two beings, one fueled by rage and another wreathed in ice-cold calmness, Annie understood that Ygrite refused to use her claws. The warlord took the hit of the blade on her arms, allowing the foe to shatter and slice through unnatural fangs before regrowing them just in time to block another hit. Ygrite controlled the muscles of her arms with ease, turning flesh and rapidly growing fangs in half-circle motion, with speed that produced enough impact to deflect or slow down incoming hits of her opponent. The arms of both opponents were a blur, the legs of both fighters barely move, while the two beings exchanged furious blows. But finally, an opening came. Camelia moved her head aside to evade the tip of the sliced fang that flew toward her eye. At that moment, Ygrite pushed her arm forward. The sword master jumped aside, narrowly evading a hit that shattered the ground where she stood. The impact of the hit caused Annie's legs to become wobbly, Angoro had to help scout stand upright. Camelia struck at the open back of Ygrite. The cloth of the turtleneck was torn, when a new set of fangs grew on the back of the warlord, slowing down the incoming strike just long enough for the warlord to turn toward her opponent.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"That’s seems like it will take a while," Angoro sighed. He looked at Annie and nodded at the package, "Want a cake or two?"
"Sure thing." Annie agreed, sitting down on the ground. Still keeping an eye on the two blurring forms that clashed with each other before the river, she took food from the agent and sat on the ground.
The sword master took a step back, avoiding two hits that would have rendered the armored car into a pile of rubble. The blade ended up being kicked aside by the arms of the warlord that were spinning around like a pair of drills. Ygrite left blood traces on the ground while more and more fangs grew on her arms. The clothes of the warlord were turning red from blood loss, her breathing was slowly getting heavier with each step. Immense control over muscles did not come cheap for the warlord, immense strain that such an act put on her body devoured the stamina at a rapid pace. Her opponent, on the other paw was perfection made flesh. The pristine costume was never touched by a single drop of blood. The breath of lady Camelia never became heavy. The eyes of the sword saint were concentrated on the opponent’s posture, reading the movements of legs and arms, waiting for the right moment to press her advance. And she found one. Taking her blade in both arms, Camelia raised the deadly blade before herself. She made an overhead strike, stopping the blade just in time before Ygrite could block the attack. The eye of Ygrite widened in surprise upon seeing that the sword saint refused to back down. Camelia made another attack from the same position, this time a blindingly overhead arc aimed at the base of the neck of the opponent. All the while, the arms of the warlord were still up, trying to block the initial fake attack.
Both opponents charged at each other from point blank, passing each other and creating another boom of sound. Both of them ended up with their backs to each other, arms of Ygrite nearly touched the ground, the tip of the blade of the sword master looked down as well. Several of the sliced fangs fell to the ground from the left shoulder of Ygrite, and the warlord laughed, fixing her lower jaw right back into the proper form and putting her tongue inside her mouth:
"You are one fast girl, Camelia! That nearly sliced my clavicle in two!" The cloth on the left shoulder of the warlord was sliced in two, revealing a minor long cut on her flesh. Not a single drop of blood was on the blade of lady Camelia, yet the sword master still shook invisible dirt from her weapon, before putting it in the scabbard.
"Why did you stop? My right side was wide open." Camelia demanded to know. Ygrite smiled, showing the brooch from the jacket of the sword saint. She threw it to Camelia, and the woman caught it carefully, examining it before putting it on, clearly worried about another possible flash grenade.
"It would be unsightly for me to dirty such a dignified lady," Ygrite laughed, tearing off fangs from her arms in small fountains of blood, "Me on the other hand? Just a ragtag savage."
Camelia looked at her opponent in disbelief. Finally, a wide grin appeared on the face of the sword master, she grabbed the side of her head with one paw and laughed with a natural and infectious laughter. Ygrite joined the sword master in laughing, frowning from time to time during moments of tearing out fangs from her body.
"Lady Ygrite, you really are a unique being. I never expected you to be this strong," Camelia finally forced out of herself, still laughing, "I am not that frail to go down from a few torn ribs."
"Oh, I know that. You were one of the people who tried to stop Ravager from leaving. How are the scars?"
"Stop? Now here is the exaggeration," Camelia giggled in her glowed, dropping her serious façade once more for a second, "She simply walked past us, and six of us were left lying in pools of our own blood and entrails. Doctors had to work overtime to remove the scars of that day from my body. There was no attempt to stop Ravager because the six of us were mere children in comparison to her"
Ygrite touched the wound on the shoulder. She looked at the blood on her paw, then at Camelia, and smiled: "You too, held back. Now I am sure about the event with Kalaisa. You know, she called me a day before her… change. She called me to apologize for one old thing."
"Then this means that…" Camelia asked hopefully.
"Aranea is alive." Ygrite simply said, and Annie nearly choked on the cake, feeling how her eyes were about to jump from their sockets. The warlord utterly disobeyed the command of the shamans right now.
"Thank the Planet," Camelia pressed a paw to her chest, "Where is she? Is she fine? Did you or any other hurt her…"
"That is all that I will tell you about her. Zero spoke with the wolf hag in charge of raising Aranea, girl has no intentions of going back," Ygrite replied, shrugging off her shoulders at the look of Camelia, "As for the rest. You already know how we are."
Camelia angrily hissed, putting one paw over the hilt of her sword. This time Annie felt no danger from the woman, but the sword saint was angry at something outside of her control. With but two breaths, the woman calmed herself, removing her paw from the weapon.
"Who won?" Annie asked, finishing another tasty cake. Whoever baked them sure knew his or her craft.
"Friendship," Camelia answered, looking at the scout, "We are all tired and all also unsightly at that. Lady Annie, you are a welcomed guest in our hospital," Seeing how Annie looked at the warlord, sword saint smiled thinly, "Needless to say, this is a non-negotiable invitation. Unless, of course, you want to return to the Oaksters mansion?"
"I am ready to go with you, ma’am!" Annie jumped up, frowning from the pain in her back. The agent put a hand on Annie’s shoulder, holding the scout steady. The wolfkin could feel the back of her pants getting soaked with blood that was running down her spine.
"About the massage parlors…" Ygrite asked, tearing the fangs off her back. Her voice became strained once more, and the enormous being inhaled air with the sound of an industrial machine, "Never been there. Does this offer still stand?"
"Only if you too, agree to have your wounds treated as well." The sword saint smiled.
"Deal. But it’s better be worth it. Angoro. Please find someone to clear this place up, before Oaksters freak out." Ygrite commanded, straining to reach for a couple of fangs on her back. Her dress was a blood-soaked rag, blistering red in the moonlight. However, through the wide gaps in clothing of the warlord, Annie could see how flesh of the woman flowed toward each other, edges of the wound slowly closed on their own. Self-recovery of the warlord Ygrite looked freakish even for the eyes of Annie.
Annie threw one last glance at the distant mansion. While the warlord and lieutenant were speaking, the scout silently intoned one more prayer to the Spirits, begging them to keep Svetlana safe from harm. Upon seeing lights flashing in the room where Sveta left her, Annie hurried to the car.
The scout spent the next three days recovering in the luxurious hospital in the middle of Houstad. Instead of driving here with Angoro, the sword saint insisted that Annie ride here with her. The wolfkin felt herself embarrassed, dirtying the gorgeous seats in the car of lady Camelia with her blood. Ygrite invited herself to take a ride with them, blatantly rummaging through the bar in Camelia’s car. By the end of the trip, passenger seats in the regal car looked like something out of a slaughterhouse, blood was everywhere: seats, floor, windows, and even the ceiling. Mostly because the warlord refused to sit normally and constantly moved around, looking out of the windows and asking Camelia about various buildings around the road. Annie initially thought that the warlord was doing this to rile up the woman, but Ygrite looked honestly excited by the trip. And Camelia was calm as ever, treating the damage to her car as a trifle.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Camelia left two women in the care of doctors. Ygrite had a few broken bones in her shoulder and upon providing the warlord with basic care doctors, a mix of normies and new breeds, they consulted for a really long time among themselves. Annie overheard how one of the nurses asked one of the doctors how it was possible that the warlord was still alive with so many fangs forming inside her body. Camelia herself spent a whole day in the hospital, allowing medical personnel to fix the sprained wrist and large bruise on the abdomen of the sword saint. Annie was locked in the operation room for the rest of the evening. She had no idea what exactly the doctors did to her back, but upon waking up in the room after the operation, she felt the fresh fur and new skin on her back. Aside from a furious desire to fiercely scratch her back, the scout felt neither pain nor discomfort. The scout spent the next two days using training equipment and making sure her body moved the same way it did before. Three messages came onto her terminal, two from Sveta and one from the Oaksters family directly. The scout dared not open them and simply deleted them. The Oaksters probably hated her for causing minor discord between them and Sveta. Sveta herself… Annie had no idea what her sister could want from her. In any case, it would be far safer for Sveta to stay as far away from Annie as possible.
Ygrite, meanwhile, enjoyed herself to the full, trying the massage machines in the hospital. Her human fingers ended up being too soft for her liking, and she used special massage machines in the recreation rooms. Such devices could be potentially deadly for most normies and new breeds and could only be used under the supervision of medical personnel. The warlord insisted that Annie try them as well. Not knowing what to choose and too shy to ask for help, Annie foolishly chose "bone settler" mode in the menu before lying on the massage table. Scout never knew that there were so many bones in her body that could be so loudly cracked in ways she never knew possible. Feeling her body like a toy in the metal fingers of the machine, Annie gave herself an oath. Never agree to something like this ever again. And to keep a safe distance from the warlord.
At the very least, the warlord also managed to get herself into a problem. Willing to try new things, Ygrite left with Camelia to a beauty parlour. Upon returning to her room in the hospital, Ygrite looked weird, her fur was cut to an even size, her hair changed color, her brows changed color to that of the night sky, and the warlord herself smelled of a gentle perfume. Ygrite said that she hated every single second of this experience and advised the scout to keep a safe distance from such places for the sanity’s sake.
Annie left the Core Lands on the day that doctors approved her recovery. Skulking in the shadows, Annie sneaked into Angoro’s car, hiding from the windows in fear that by some miracle she would run into Sveta again. Feelings of calmness fell upon her soul when the car left the border of the Core Lands, passing through the massive defensive walls and entering the desolating area of the Wastes.
"Sorry that you had to leave your family so soon." Annie said to the lieutenant, feeling guilty that he had to leave with her. The man was spending his entire free time with his family.
"You kidding? A few more days and I would have burst from all the food that mom cooked. Speaking of which, are you hungry by any chance?" Angoro smiled, reaching for a package beneath his seat. Annie smiled at this offer and looked in the window.
There was no clear border between the Core Lands and the Wastes. Green life and a few trees found their way onto the harsh plains of the Wastes and stubbornly took hold here, refusing to back down. Rather than dying, hand-crafted nature adapted, clawing life for itself. Annie looked upon this and found it good. There was nothing wrong with being from the other world. Her sister was meant to live happily and safely in the Core Lands. Annie was meant to fight and die in the lands outside. All according to her deal with the Spirits.
There were some things that she decided to change. Upon returning to the barracks, Annie consulted with Lucendra and bought some stocks, as well as took all available jobs around the base. The scout would never be as rich or successful as her sister, but the sight of the magnificent house of the Oaksters still burned brightly in her heart. A place to call home. Not a stupid tent or a room in the base, but a proper home. This was a stupid dream, perhaps, but Annie never claimed to be smart. A simple dream for a simple person. At least one thing she can use to convince herself that she isn't that far behind her sister.
Not much had changed in Annie’s absence. While Lucendra was helping Ultis prepare documents for the upcoming trial, some hunting company shipped the wrong hunting gear for the scout and refused to take it back. Kayleen and the other wolf hags had their paws filled by keeping the soldiers busy, the wolf hag was visibly annoyed at the inability to use physical punishment anymore. As a side effect of this, the toilets in the Refugee Center Gamma had never been cleaner. Carty got overly excited when the Oathtakers sent their elite forces to pick up someone from the refugees. She challenged one of their members to a sparring match and lost, remaining happy that she managed to at least land a punch on the chitin plating of her foe before being knocked out cold. Annie never thought that her fellow scout was into challenging others this much.
Upon coming back, Annie challenged the scouts of two packs to the Trial of Ten, where one challenges nine in a series of one-on-one sparring rounds with full contact. The winner of this trial will hold the title of the strongest scout in the entire Dragena pack. For a year, Carty held this title before giving it up for a pack of cookies.