First Sunblade crashed the tip of his sword into the ground, looking into the skies with calm content. Through the lens in his left eye, he saw the panic inside the pirate’s ship. The overseers were running back and forth in the dimly lit compartment. The prisoner in a separate cell stood up, shaking off the restraints from her paws, and walked out of her cell, throwing a makeshift explosive behind her to hide the fact that she was no helpless prisoner like the others. Amidst all the chaos and destruction that was happening on the ship, few would notice this eruption of flame that devoured the body of a dead prison guard that tried to have fun with her before anti-air guns locked on the ship.

The prisoner reached out to the ventilation shaft, pried it open, and slid inside, nimbly and elegantly, without producing a single sound. Not a single soul, not even other scared prisoners, had noticed her disappearances. And by the time the pirates even realize just whom they captured, it will be far too late.

First turned his gaze away from his precious ally and toward the sky. A large black dot appeared on the horizon, losing attitude at a rapid pace. A smirk came on his perfect snout, unmarred by any scars, safe for one over his left brow, the scar dealt to him by her. His soldiers contacted him, asking their liege to step back.

First paid them no mind, looking at how the flying ship almost kissed the ground. Its steel hull was riddled with holes, letting loose thick black smoke and flames into the nice and calm day and destroying the beautiful blue skies with its disgusting black smoke. The pirate’s crew tried in vain to keep their ship away from the ground, but anti-aircraft crews of the Reclamation Army knew their craft and were aided by the infiltrator. None of the shots were by chance; they were all fired with precision only possible thanks to the automatic systems and the operator's skills behind the console.

The inevitable finally happened. The ship’s hull touched the ground. The mighty beast from the past gave out a sorrowful screeching sound when it started leaving its insides across the green plains. One wing broke in two and was flung away. Knight captain Soros Sunblade once more contacted First, begging the sword saint to retreat.

"Be at peace, my friend." First chastised him lightly, looking with a smile at how the small hill made of steel was advancing upon him. To rely on someone else for the mission … What a thrill! He felt his heart beating faster, imagining if this is how she felt. If this was the reason why she trained them so.

His dear ally timed the chaos on the ship with her attack on the small control center responsible for supplying the turrets with energy. The two unlucky pirates within never had a chance. One had her head popped by a single kick, and another followed into the void, her neck snapped by two mighty, yet so gently looking, paws. Without wasting a second, the infiltrator dropped the explosives and maintained a perfect balance in spite of the tremors that shook the ship from top to bottom.

The ship moved on them, spitting out pirates and pieces of steel in the process. First relaxed his posture, welcoming a chance to test himself should his ally’s calculations prove to be wrong. His loyal knights formed a shield wall behind his position, unwilling to abandon their master in danger. Knight captain Soros asked for permission to open fire with heavy ordinance, and First raised his paw, silencing his great-grandson.

First found out that he should have never doubted her. The ship came to a stop a dozen meters from his position, leaving his white robes, lined with gold, in perfect condition. First tapped on the magnetic lock on the blade’s sheath and allowed his power armor to come to life, making a first step to greeting the intruders should they refuse to come out on their own. His every step was accompanied by the thumb sound of his sheath connecting with the ground and the melodic music of countless golden rings and other pieces of jewelry woven into his beard and a long mane of hair that reached all the way back to his waist.

A hatch at the very top of the ship was crushed from inside, allowing a gigantic figure to jump outside. First’s crimson eyes narrowed at the realization of just who had landed before him. The scum of the earth had a powerful physique that rivaled that of knight captain Soros. His shoulders were overly big for his frame, and his legs were a bit too short. His body was covered by armor plates held in place with countless chains and wires. Putting the head of his black axe on the ground, the pirate looked at First with his crimson eyes. Unlike First, who had a golden-colored sclera, this goon had a regular white sclera.

“I am First Sunblade of the noble Sunblade bloodline, the first of my kin to be given birth by the illustrious Twins. A scum like you makes for poor prey. Nevertheless, name yourself, peon, so I can at least tease the family that gave birth to such failure until the day the sun expires.” First called out the traitorous son of the North.

"Well, ain’ta it great for me to meet a mate with such a grand pedigree?" The pirate leaned on the axe, putting one leg back, and made a gracious bow, extending his left arm to the side. His once white fur was black, dirtied by the thick smoke and oil pouring from inside the bridge. "Captain Squak, son of a whore, came from nowhere."

"A rootless cur, dares to pester his betters?" First looked at the ship, noticing other pirates coming out and forming a pathetic excuse for a defensive line atop the ship’s hull. He turned his gaze back at the pirate, looking down on him. "My, the mere shame of it…"

"Argh, doubly shameful indeed," The pirate eagerly agreed. "Your ostensibly powerful land-grubbing nation had to send their best shiny poster boy to catch this ‘rootles cur.’ Not the best impression, mate. I heard that ya are pretty good with yer shiny blade. I wonder how it will fare against me axe?"

“You should have stayed in the skies, whoreson, and never dared to prey on the weak,” First Sunblade shook his head mockingly. “Squak, was it? What good is knowing the truth if you are dead?”

“Ah, but ya see, your royalness, highborns like ye, always underestimating us, dirtborns,” The wolfkin laughed, snapping his fingers, and his crew, mostly normies, started dragging people outside of the ship. Prisoners. Orais, humans, malformed, mutants, and even some ice fangs. Each and every one of them was either a teenager or younger. The pirate captain put his axe on his shoulder, looking smugly at First. “This is how it will go, First. Ye stay right over there, and I will be like a woodcutter, chopping ye down to a proper size. Then we will use whatever is left of ye to buy us and Itza a safe passage out of these waters. One wrong move, and Itza’s cannons will start speaking and our fishies will start dying.”

“What a glorious day!” First smiled warmly to the prisoners. A hundred meters at most. Yes, at this distance, some missteps might happen. I better let her make the move. “Most of their families have already said their goodbyes to their offspring.”

“Not my fault that yer country can’t protect its borders…”

“Be silent, degenerative reject. Can’t you see that I am busy envisioning what sort of laurels will be bestowed upon my kin? I will deal with you in a moment,” First cut him off, ignoring the rage in the wolfkin’s eyes. “What gratitude will their families have for the Order! What a joyous day it will be for the state when we bring them back, safe and sound!”

“Ya still don’t get who is in charge here! I am the one who decides who will live, not you!”

“So you were faking this whole ‘pirate’ speech,” First raised a brow, “Adorable.”

“Mates! Pick one or two fishies and crack them open like a barrel of ale…”

First only smiled, seeing how a lean figure rose behind the pirates, who aimed their guns at the prisoners. To fake her capture, his cousin had to drop a lot of weight, bringing herself almost to the point of starvation. Her ribs pushed the skin around them, cheeks became even thinner than usual. Her beautiful amber eyes were artificially made more dim through the use of special narcotics in order for her to pass for a teenager.

Upon capturing the omega during one of their raids, the pirates made a grievous mistake. Inside her belly, the omega snuck in both the small coordination device, allowing the tracking of the ship, and a small portable lens, allowing her to coordinate with her allies. It was thanks to her information that the prisoners’ compartment was left undamaged during the attack. She played the role of a frightened cub for too long. Now it was time for fury.

One pirate's windpipe was broken by a single thrust, and his gun appeared in the omega's paws. Leaving the foe to die, the wolfkin opened fire at his allies, making other goons look behind them, too shocked and slow to react in time.

First charged forth, allowing the civility to fall away from his face. A chilling roar of pure rage came from his lungs, hitting the pirates along with the shining energy of the Sunblade. The Sunblade’s sheath was decorated with a golden image of the Twins holding the sun, which was located on the sword’s handle, with their paws. With the press of a button, the maglock opened, and a new sun shone upon the green plans.

A single step brought the sword saint right before the pirate captain. His foe boasted about cutting him down to size, First judged him in the exact same manner.

Squak barely had the time to register what had happened, realizing that he had lost his paws only when First was already among the hostages, bringing death to those who dared to raise a hand against the citizens or his cousin. The pirate captain boasted about his axe. First, First made sure to cleave through it as well.

His sword, made in the times of the Old World and gifted to him by his dearest Mother and Father, burned with the never-ending fury of a true sun. Nothing, no armor or flesh, could withstand its slashes. No pirate was even fast enough to see the sword saint.

To the sword saint’s eyes, everything—even bullets fired by his kin—was now moving in slow motion. He culled the closest foes with his weightless weapon before they could be hit by the bullets. The hungry energy of his weapon devoured the bullets as well, dancing and weaving around the hostages, allowing them to feel warmth and see the radiance of the Sunblade, but never any heat. Not a single drop of blood, flesh, or dirt fell on the hostages, all of it was devoured by First’s blade. His blade cauterized all the cleaved parts, preventing the insides from spilling all over the ship's hull and saving the hostages from this horrifying sight. A perfect weapon for a perfect warrior.

"Does anyone else want to harm the citizens!?" First roared to the surviving pirates. All of them, sixty-five of the hundred that left the ship, dropped their weapons and knelt. All, but Squak, who was roaring from anger and indignation and was trying to lift the ruins of his axe with his leg. "A poor show indeed. Knights! Capture the ruffians and deliver them to prison. Bring their captain with us, we might squeeze something of value out of him," First sheathed his blade, locking the Sunblade once more with the magnetic lock that answered only to his blood. Reaching out, he grabbed the omega, putting her over his shoulder. The woman smiled to the knights, waving her paw in embarrassment. "We dedicate this victory and the rescue of the hostages to lady Csonka and to our dearest kin!"

"Hail lady Csonka!" His warriors roared, streaming forward to secure the ship. "Hail the Wolf Tribe!"

****

"I noticed that you are not riding anymore," First opened an eye, throwing a sidelong glance at Csonka. "Is this no longer bringing you joy, lady?"

He, knight captain Soros, and omega Csonka walked by the side of a river that ran around the Sunblade’s mansion, splitting his lands in two. Several drones were soundlessly flying around First, some were trimming his claws as he unleashed them, others were making sure that his fur was still the same size. A pair of drones were busy working on his hair, cleaning it from any trace of dust and dirt, while one more drone was busy working on his eyebrows. First himself was dressed in a doublet with long silk pants and a loose shirt, walking barefoot across his lands.

Csonka dressed herself in a pristine white body suit that covered her all the way to the neck. The zipper on her neck was opened, showing a white scarf with a symbol of a panther on it. No doubt she wore even more clothes below her suit, the Wolf Tribe found the atmosphere of the Core Lands too cold for their taste, although Csonka assured First that she was adjusting just fine.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

On her head, Csonka wore a black cap that covered her ears perfectly. Her once magnificent hair was cut almost all the way to the skin, causing dismay in First. To see such beauty destroyed… He already spoke with Csonka about it, the best stylist of his household will work with her to make sure the omega will look gorgeous again.

"It's not like that, sir," Csonka said, looking to the side, where former hostages were riding six-legged horses or swimming in the blue river under the supervision of maids. First patiently waited for her answer, and Csonka finally gave up. "Nothing lasts forever, sir. I don’t… I don’t want to get used to the good times. They disappear all too fast."

"Our doors are always open for you, lady Csonka," First kept walking, closing his eyes to allow drones to paint his eyelids in gold. "This stallion that you like? A magnificent horse. He is yours. We will care for him and keep him healthy, but it is your duty to ride him. Don’t keep the poor being locked in for too long."

"Sir, I am thankful for your support."

"Pay it no mind, it is the least I can do for my kin."

"But I am not worthy of it!" Csonka said with passion, making him open his eye anew and wave the drone away. "The state gave me a mission! Not only had I failed it, but I had also told our adversaries everything, crying like a little cub in order to survive."

First stopped, putting his paws on her shoulders. The size difference between him and his cousin was immense even now, his single finger was almost as big as her shoulder.

"Do you think yourself the only one to ever fail a mission? Or perhaps the only one to show weakness?" The sword saint smiled gently. "Prepare yourself, for tomorrow I will tell you every embarrassing moment of my life, about every moment when I was brought low and dragged through the dirt, crying and whining. You will learn, in time, that these moments do not matter in the slightest, my dear cousin. What matters is walking on and on along the road of our lives and steering toward dignity, pride, and integrity. Had you died trying to preserve needless secrets and pride, who would have saved them now?"

First nodded at the teens and kids who were playing with each other. Csonka followed his look, allowing a warm smile to come upon her face. Wolfkins, normies, malformed, orais, insectoids, trolls… They were all playing together. Soros gave out a quiet chuckle, seeing how some kids played a push-over game in the river. One troll carried a mutant girl on his shoulder, instead of arms, she had knots of tentacles coming from her shoulders. First smiled upon seeing how skillfully the girl formed human-like hands by wrapping her tentacles around each other and pushed another girl off her ‘stead’. Before the falling girl could even touch the water, a knight gently caught her. The mutant immediately offered a hand to help her opponent climb back up.

Truly, a world worth struggling for. Thank you for this lesson, father.

The Sunblade household had several facilities on its lands. From the gigantic mansion built by the Twins themselves, to several training halls, two schools, and one hospital, the once-private residence of First Sunblade had everything to accommodate any number of guests. The rescued teens and kids hardly took any place in the guests' quarters. of the younger ice fangs under his tutelage had already attempted to sneak up from their chambers to spy on the visitors, curious about the presence of non-wolfkins here.

"If you say so," Csonka quickly agreed, evading looking in his eyes, "Still, are you sure that it is right to keep the cubs here?"

"Naturally! They will be reunited with their families at the parade!" First let go of Csonka, putting his paws behind his back.

Without a doubt, the omega has already deduced the reason for it. Ice Fangs lost their right to bestow punishments on their kin right after they confessed to the state about the treachery caused by one of their own. They fully deserved to lose these rights, and the sword saint was still furious about the whole mess that this cursed Tilden had dragged the order into. Now every time the sword saints or the elders wanted to send someone into the Ice Cave, they had to ask permission from the state’s judges. The order no longer had the right to kill its own for crimes, now each and every criminal among them had to be handed over to the state. A slight well earned. Maybe it was even needed, for today was a civilized era.

But a slight nonetheless! First took the matter into his own paws, improving the order’s reputation everywhere he could. Giving the kids back to their shocked parents on the parade will produce some genuine emotion, far more stronger than any staged play. This will swing the public's opinion. Step by step, the Ice Fang order will get their rightful rights back, their pride hinges on it!

"With all due respect, sir," Csonka stopped, looking for words, "Some of your people tried to segregate the cubs…"

"The seneschal has already been straightened up and reminded of his duties. All our guests receive an equally warm welcome, no matter their origins." The mere fact that this became an issue at all bothered First. One of his own! A man who served with him for a century wanted to send two malformed to sleep in the warehouse instead of the guests' quarters, simply because of their looks! First already apologized to the teen and the kid for this, intending to keep an eye on them in the future. It’s the least he could do to repay this indignity.

This situation irritated the sword saint far more than it should have. The Ice Fangs had to be perfect; perfection was their birthright, granted to them by their very blood. Bigotry had no place in the order. It would seem that some of the younger generation viewed their perfection not as a gift but rather as a sign of status, forgetting the need for humility and their duty to help lesser people. They will be found out and reeducated, this much First promised himself.

“Csonka, have you learned anything from this Squak?” Knight captain Soros, a wolfkin dressed in a strict business suit, asked casually, earning a glance from First. His great-grandson was acting too familiarly with lady Csonka.

Is it because he thinks she's below him? First wondered. Soros and lady Csonka often sparred together in the training hall, and the knight captain was very vocal about not allowing Csonka to join them in the hunt against the sky pirates. Could he too, like the seneschal, look down on his distant kin?

It was not surprising. Soros preferred to spend more time managing the countless enterprises of the Sunblade household instead of mastering the ways of a knight or working on his manners. Even now, he was busy smoking a cigar, dirtying this beautiful day with a stream of smoke and setting a bad example to the kids. A drone was flying by his side, carrying an ashtray. For someone like that to start viewing their less fortunate kin as defective, it was most likely just a matter of time.

"Yes, once the doctors finished treating his wounds, I questioned the bastard."

"Did you have to use something special to make him sing?" Soros asked hopefully, putting away the cigar.

"Just drugs and standard threatening."

"A pity. A scum like him deserves a few more holes in his hide for harming the weak."

"Soros," Csonka said, turning to face the knight captain, "Pain is a poor interrogation tool. The subject can lie about just about anything in order to stop the pain, forcing you to spend even more time trying to discern truth from lies. Or the subject’s mind can break down during the interrogation. And lastly," Csonka scratched her forehead beneath the cap, "I know it might sound rich coming from the Wolf Tribe….

"From the Wolf Tribe, maybe. From you, I am willing to listen to anything." The knight captain smiled to her. First felt an itch to grab his grandson by the ear. Such poor manners! When a lady speaks, a knight listens!

"…But giving in to the desire for vengeance is wrong," Csonka continued, ignoring the interruption, "A desire to inflict pain onto others will worm its way into your very soul, twisting you, turning you into the object of your hatred, interfering with a mission… To be frank, someone like Squak doesn’t deserve your wrath or attention, simply give him to the state to be hanged and move on. What’s the point of felling the tyrants and madmen if you will simply take their place?"

“A wise lesson, lady. One that we will follow.” First bowed to her. She had taught her soldiers well.

"Regardless. Squak comes from the Ice Fangs, this much is true. From the Voidrunner household," The omega started her report. "From what I gathered, the Voidrunners are having trouble financing their scions, resulting in some of them leaving the family. Squak’s mother gave birth to a litter made up of himself and his brother. Then she died, leaving the cubs to fend for themselves, and Squak decided to join slavers for the easy tokens. Squak’s brother disowned him, and based on my brief research, he is a well-meaning individual, albeit slightly sickly. He tried to get into UNU four times, failing because his grades weren’t good enough for tuition-free courses."

"We will pay for his allowance," First looked toward Soros, "Grandson, locate all of our unaffiliated kin. Voidrunners may grumble, but this is a serious matter. If they can’t take them in, the Sunblade household will. No kin of mine will be left alone on the street to be recruited by criminal scum."

First stopped, listening to a buzzing that a nearby drone was giving out. He allowed the machine to project the message onto his retina, reading it very carefully. Finally, he turned toward Csonka with a minor worry.

"Pray forgive me for this question, lady, but have you ever heard the name Carty by chance?"

"Carty…" Csonka pressed a finger to her lips, "Yes, I recall her. A blue-furred wolfkin with an annoying temper. A wolf hag… No, a scout in Dragena’s pack. Alpha dispatched one of the omegas to sniff around and stage a few tests, checking if it was worth it to recruit her to the Omega Team. Eventually, the warlord decided against this. Carty is a team player, no matter her words. The Omega Team would only hinder her talent. What about her, sir?"

"One of my descendants… Zeke, wishes to stay in the Ravaged Lands to… court her." First admitted, noticing how Csonka raised her brow. Even though she had never met him, she was clearly aware of his less-than-stellar reputation.

"Zeke? But she is twice his age, sir!"

Oh, thank the Planet, he is not that notorious yet.

"Hardly a problem that can’t be solved with a rejuvenation shot or two."

"But the costs…"

"Pocket change, nothing to fret about, my fair lady," First took her paw, lifting it gently to his lips. "Ah, but I have taken too much of your time already. Your help was impeccable, now you are to relax and recover after this harsh ordeal. In light of this new development, I am sadly forced to postpone our talks about forming a new unit for a day or two."

****

It was a late night when First returned to his private study, leaving Csonka to call in the therapists and report about her condition and whereabouts. He could still hear the children, even all the way from the very top of his mansion. Little rascals were busy trying out one of Sunblade’s recreation rooms meant for the younger generation, having the time of their lives playing the video games. After some consideration, First allowed the younger scions of his house to join his guests, deciding that it was only prudent to let his students have some time off as well as socialize with other kinds of people. Perhaps Camelia was on to something.

Pouring some wine into a cup, the sword saint pondered Zeke’s decision. On one paw, there was nothing bad about it. If anything, it will probably mean that First will have to speak with Alpha directly…

Alpha. First was aroused by the mere thought of her, and his soul sang. Alpha. Beautiful, magnificent Alpha. His sclera was gold, while hers was purple. He met her once and spoke arrogantly to her, receiving a well-earned wrath and waking up in a hospital, covered in grievous wounds.

First always respected people who could have knocked him out, even when he wasn’t resisting. Give a child an axe and send him against a hundred-year-old oak. The child might damage the tree’s bark but will pass out before he can topple the tree itself. And Alpha was… She was… So vibrant, so magnificent, so honest in her rage!

They were destined for each other. Her infertility wasn’t a problem worth a fuss. Either doctors will solve it or they will simply adopt someone to cement the union between the Wolf Tribe and the Ice Fang order.

Over the course of his life, First had countless wives and was honest with each and every one of them. After meeting with Alpha, First only ever took concubines, never allowing himself to be bound. The sword saint was writing poems and letters to Alpha, receiving nothing in return. This only reignited the passion in his heart. No woman had ever rejected him before. He never had to court anyone. It was thrilling to think that fate had finally granted him such a magnificent opportunity to work for someone's love! No matter how long it takes for Alpha to notice First’s passion, he will never give up on it.

Allowing the tightness in his crotch area to disappear, First pondered further. The main problem was that Zeke was… Well, he was Zeke. The boy never showed proper loyalty to any of the kind souls that he met! Lady Svetlana would have been a perfect match for the fool, and truth be told, she was too good for him. Or lady Bel, now there was someone deserving of joining the Sunblade household! But no, Zeke had to metaphorically spit in the face of any chance to settle down.

"What have you found?" First finally asked Soros, who patiently stood next to his throne, waiting for the attention of his liege. "What of her lineage?"

"She is…" Soros came to a halt, reading the data in terminal with genuine desperation on his snout, like a drowning man grasping for something, anything, to keep himself afloat, "According to the official records, lady Carty is a commoner, sire. Her parents are hardworking soldiers of the Wolf Tribe, but their earnings are low, to the point that they had to take out a loan to celebrate one of Carty’s birthdays. Her mother has similar fur coloration. And… Sir, they live in a tent."

"Lady Carty has blue fur!" First put the cup aside. "Clearly, this means that there had to be someone unique among her ancestors. Some hero, maybe even a warlord!"

"And if she really is a mere commoner?"

"Then we will make her into a noble!" First breathed out, calming himself, "If Zeke wants to finally settle down, it is my duty to help him, no matter who his soulmate is. But the Sunblade household has a status to uphold. Carty is from a unit, or a pack, as our cousins call it, of a lesser warlord. With all respect to Dragena, she is…"

"Sire, if I may interject," Soros raised a finger, and First graciously waved his paw, allowing him to continue. "Warlord Dragena is dead. Along with warlord Janine."

"What?!" The sword saint grasped the edges of his throne, feeling how two magnificent lion heads made out of gold crumbled beneath his fingers. "Why were we not invited for a funeral… Doesn’t matter, are our cousins in trouble?!"

"The Third Army is waging a war, sire." Soros bowed, and First cursed slightly, chastising himself for losing his cool.

"Tell me everything, Soros. No titles, act as if I were a senile grandpa. "Like back in the day." First allowed himself a smile, reaching out for another cup and pouring wine for his grandson.