Freki.

***

Our coordination was impressive. The Troupe's efficiency was unparalleled. Geri would scout the land, Iris would analyze the information. She'd then provide targets, organize them into priorities, and finally distribute orders to the rest of us. Oftentimes, those orders went to Geri, who'd have her wolves strike from the sky while we approached on land to harvest the aftermath. Scanning devices. Turrets. Launchers. Outposts. Warehouses. Bridges, docks, and runways. They destroyed the most worrisome or crippling things with fantastic precision, giving my packs one less thing to worry about once we entered the fray. Not that we had anything to worry about. It was the third month of the War Phase. The enemies we'd slaughtered since we entered had been resurrected twice by now. Albeit without the strength they once possessed.

After the first month, the invasion dwindled to a war. Now, the war had dwindled to tension and battles forced by us and our need for more equipment and materials. Salvage was not what my summer wolves enjoyed, however. Sadly, the barbarians beneath me were not only summer wolves. Two of them belonged to Iris. Both were rescued from the Mazi-Nevstan border and had no family to speak of. Aqsa Gould was the first of them. A quiet-natured half-orc with limbs capable of shifting into various weapons. The other was a full-blooded orc male with a penchant for destroying defenses. Neither of them had anything to worry about for our coming mission.

Gwehn of the Orcinus Mafia had behaviors one would expect of an Amazonian. And perhaps she was. Then again, people often said the same about Blude, with the exception of Etan calling her a Gerdian. Regardless, Gwehn and her six subordinates obsessed about feats of physical prowess. Especially in battle, but also out of them. It was often her lot who carried ships and vehicles back to base. No doubt the same would be true today.

The only other barbarian to be found in the Troupe was Ginku. The paragon ogress was just as massive as she was before, only in a denser frame that boasted much sharper tusks. Under normal circumstances, she was slightly taller than me. Yet she could change her size at will, like any other celestial. And she was absurdly quick, not to mention intelligent. In short, she would have no problems with the task ahead. Unlike us Summer Wolves. We just wanted to be the best boys we were and destroy all there was in sight; to burn, rip, and tear. With a naval base as our target, there was little prospect of that happening. And none of us wanted to face Iris' wrath again.

Our zeal in the previous battle cost the Troupe over three-quarters of the vessels at the dwarven motor pool. That alone could have been recycled to upgrade the war room and every base alongside it. But we destroyed the buildings they were manufactured in. We destroyed the roads leading up to the buildings. We even destroyed the rubble. Not to mention the vehicles. As a result, Iris destroyed us. She reprimanded us thoroughly for failing to follow orders. Using mere words, she cut deeper than any blade could, yet uplifted our hearts and minds with the conviction to be better. More importantly, she made me realize what I wanted my brigade to be, and all but forced me to speak to her about it in private.

There wasn't enough time, however, to give her my input before the raid on the naval base began. Thus, I spent the time commanding- looking upon my subordinates from afar and directing them towards their goals, leaving them to handle the fine details. Mainly enemy emplacements or the few vehicles the enemy managed to get up and running before Etan's group stormed in.

While Etan and his five subordinates were all monks, all nebulous beings, and were all administrative members of his Zed Force. Their mission was the antithesis of ours. They excelled in destroying things at a slow pace and worked not as a group but as individuals. They were fast, not for the sake of violence, but subtlety. They were masters of stealth, remaining unseen without the need to hide while they ambushed, sabotaged, seized, and raided.

This raid was no different. Only their effect could be seen on the battlefield. Not them. An enemy tank would start up and lose control. One of my men would find random platoons of slaughtered enemy troops. Piles of weapons and equipment would be waiting at our rendezvous points. Fires and smoke in the distance would signal one thing or another. The organization was as secretive as its administrator. A being I've come to deeply respect, for I remembered Etan Za'Darmondiel as he was in Nydorden Halls. Oppressed like every other male of his kind. Shackled from birth in the same way as me and my sister- to be burdened by expectations and molded into someone he was not.

Like us, he never forsook himself. Even if he had to bury it behind a mask of placidity, he retained the values and convictions that arose from his life experiences. Not by the influence of someone's demands or teachings, but by his own volition.

The other being I revered as much- besides the obvious- was the one I went to see after the operation. Slash that, General Iris was the one we all went to see once the mission was complete. Every mission. Amun raised her well. She was a masterful fighter, a genius strategist, and an excellent leader, to be sure. Yet it was her separation of work and play that made me respect her the most. No matter how harshly she would reprimand us, we knew almost instinctually that it was just business. That there was no malice in her words. Only a requirement for us to do better. To be better. Even if we had to take her guiding hand to make it so.

For that reason, we sought her out before the others arrived. Yet it seemed she was expecting us. All the Troupe's branches were present. Crowded around both Iris and their map.

"Before we begin," she turned her nightly eyes to me and the summer wolves. "Freki, I understand you prefer to destroy all on the battlefield, leaving nothing standing, yes?"

I raised my hands to my sternum, touching my second knuckles over my sternum, and lowered my head in salute. "Yes, General. I understand I train among others now. Diversifying the skill set. However, the purpose of the Black Wolf Brigade is to destroy. We leave nothing intact."

"Now and forevermore?" was all she asked as she stared deep into my eyes.

"Yes, General." I nodded.

"Then so it is." She returned the salute. "Now and forevermore, each member of the Black Wolf Brigade will be given the designation: Celestial Drop Shock Trooper. You are a fast attack, assured destruction, fire and forget force. Something to be deployed when a place needs to be turned to slag and glass the moment the order is given. As it stands, there are many such places. One month of the War Phase remains." She began pacing, looking at the others as she continued. "Yet, our lands are secure. Our lands have been secure for over a month. No longer does the enemy come to us to fight. No longer does the enemy have eyes on us. One month of war remains. Yet, total war has yet to end.

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"And so, the invasions begin." Iris declared, pointing at the wall that had been sacrificed to make a floor-to-ceiling screen depicting a digital map that evolved with our discoveries. As of now, everything of interest within 1,450 kilometers was highlighted. Including the capitals of three out of four nations.

"However," Iris continued, snapping our eyes back to her small frame, "we are in the Darkroom still. In our first month, we learned to operate defensively. In our second, we learned to operate offensively. Now, we train in disjointed warfare. Where you go, who you fight, how you will fight them. These things will be decided by you as you lead your troops to destroy our enemies. Since our arrival, we've learned a few of their names. To the west is the Braraulia Kingdom, she said, pointing to the southern end of an inland sea. "Its capital is seven hundred fourteen kilometers from here. Celola, with an estimated population of forty-four thousand. This strip of land to the eastern sea is their Protectorate."

Refocusing the map to the sea south of our position highlighted a region that extended beyond the regions explored. Like Bakewia to Vruria, it was much smaller and seemed to be much more prosperous, making it a prime target to raid. Sadly, however. "This region has been marked as a priority for my and Etan's units." As quickly as she said the words, she shifted the map across the channel to highlight the eastern shore and the landmass to the direct east of our compound. "This is the Bugdilk Dominion. Five hundred eight thousand square kilometers of goblin country. And their capital, Stiag, is here, six hundred forty-four kilometers from our location."

"That one is mine!" Leary glared at the point beyond Iris' finger, a city on the shores of a vast lake that bordered the territory of some other nation.

Iris only nodded and shifted the map across the northern sea to showcase a vast continent of rolling hills, with a mountain range running through it from southeast to northwest. "Last, there is the human Empire of Freysia. We know not where their capital is. Only that all but a few of their cities sit at low altitudes."

"We will find them," Geri said to her.

Then I stepped in. "And when they're found, we'll wreak havoc. In the meantime, we will lay roads of ash and glass across these Freysians."

With everything settled, we dispersed and went about our business, trusting in each other to get the work done with little to no supervision; though we all remained in communication. For the Brigade, our preparations saw us venture to the sublevels of the Steepcairn to devise some payloads of my design. Fire Seeders. A canister that equaled my height while sitting on a tripod, 3.6 meters by 3 meters. In my worlds, they were used to seed continents. Mere days were needed to make the modifications needed to stock them with explosives, munitions, and whatever other machinations Iris' crew devised.

We spent those days rehearsing and in revelry. We planned and partied for our upcoming hunt, then relocated to Delphilios Court to load our canisters into the cargo airships and take part in a final revelry that lasted until nightfall.

It was a revelry without ale or meat. A ringed revelry, it was. One of howling werewolves, planning and plotting the demise of our enemies. Into eight packs of six wolves, we formed and split ourselves into the massive metal birds, save the pack of bards who remained at camp to provide any needed support from afar. While the other airships had room to spare, in mine were Marcel, Troy, Serge, Orion, and Caesar, plus the six canisters that went unused by the home party. To the northwestern skies we all sailed, watching the Orcinus Mafia paint the seas red beneath us for some 377 kilometers until the first airship turned towards the northeast.

Six ports were scattered across the coast. Six wolves descended upon them each. The second and third airships went into action shortly after. One banked to run parallel to the first ship and drop six wolves carrying tons of explosives upon six cities scattered across endless grasslands. The other banked to a sprawl of cities straddling the base of a mountain range. The rest of us continued over the range for nearly 500 kilometers before we saw anything of note. First, it was the coast. And with the coast came a scattering of prey-filled cities. Two packs went north to bring fire to the tundras and melt the glaciers near the coast. The next pack took to the southwest to rain fire on the six lakeside cities before they rendezvoused at the seventh settlement.

The rest of us turned southwest toward the forested bay in the southwestern-most region of the Freysian Empire. Onto the three larger cities dropped Marcel, Troy, and Serge with two canisters each. They were among the larger and stronger members of the pack, easily capable of handling ten thousand or so standard humans, given enough time. In turn, Orion and Caesar were freed to spare their munitions on the less-populated cities, bringing my count to six.

I did not wait for Orion and Caesar to rendezvous, however. Nor did I dive into battle headfirst, as I would have before. I took the yoke once Caesar took the dive and finalized my plans while I came upon the city from the south, studying the clustered groupings of towers from above. When the city finally loomed below me, I ascended. Up like an arrow, the metal bird flew on until it could fly no more, wherein all but one payload was released. Out the posterior ramp, they tumbled; chased and pushed forward by me, even in freefall.

Carefully, they were coaxed away from the airship plummeting behind us and veered toward the various regions or districts. One toward the docks and three around the surrounding forests to seal off the perimeter. One toward the tallest structure at the city center to weather it down before the plane descended upon the remains; and the last at what appeared to be a transportation center just south of the castle.

Methodically, they were primed and thrown toward their targets at speeds that forced the winds to whistle. But our altitude was high. Their time until impact was plentiful, yet they acted fast. Mechanisms within the canister caused the entire thing to rotate and blast off its cover to reveal 6 bands of 32 cluster bombs. With so many, they were undoubtedly small. Yet the punch Wilson packed into them impressed even us. Three bands contained high explosives that blasted the area with steel and adamantine pellets. The other three bands, on the other hand, were filled with white phosphorous.

They struck with little to no warning. Both those in the city's outskirts and the city center were shaken from their to the core as their emplacements, homes, and structures blasted apart, erupting into great conflagrations before aftershocks blasted them apart, sending a scorching rain falling on the survivors.

The bombardment bracketed the enemy between the ring of destructive fire at the city's walls and the pillar of molten debris at the city center, pushing them into a kill box that forced them to look at the falling plane in despair. But among the wreckage and debris was a figure of half-lupine form refusing the urges to rip and tear with his burning claws and scorched fangs.

As I've practiced over the years, I embraced the primal side without allowing it to muddle my mind, enabling me to take the time to notice the trolley network spread across the city, and more, to grab the rails and run around my kill zone like a child at play.

I stopped neither for the rails turning off in different directions nor for the walls standing in my way. I pulled with all my might until the rails either snapped or broke whatever was holding them in place. I stopped not once a wall of arcane steel and spiked balls of ice rose at the end of my kill zone. I did not stop once the tanks and cannons lined before that wall let loose.

I would not stop. Nor would I toy with my prey. Not against these foes or any other could I afford to give nothing less than my unbridled fury. For that was all the Black Wolf Brigade had to offer to those we fell upon.