They walked in silence for some time as they came to a building that the shamans had taken over as a place to stay. Shamans had no real need for homes, aside from the tent where the dead went to rest. They could conduct rituals in the field if needed. To become a shaman, a female needed to remember every single name of the Spirit of the Tribe, every single prayer and be able to recite them without a single mistake. Books with all the information about traditions and prayers existed, of course, in the rare case where all the shamans of the pack somehow perished, but the spirit guardians of the Tribe rarely used them during prayer, it was considered to be a bad tone. Sonya once joked that it is easier to become a warlord than a shaman, you need to know less.

This simple two-story building was before the pair. Just yesterday it was badly damaged in a raid, but shamans worked themselves up, fixing cracks and the roof, replacing the windows. They even tried to restore the water supply to the building but failed and had to ask for help in this from the rest of the Tribe. As Kaleb explained, Janine wanted to send proper engineers to help, but the shamans refused aid from the normies, at least until they fixed the rest of the city. So now fifteen wolfkins are working furiously nearby, trying to restore the water supply to the building. Engineers brought massive devices capable of producing water with them. The problem was connecting such a device to the systems in the town. The ground around the building has been excavated, pipes and rubber wires have been revealed, the team was busy fixing them to ensure that they won’t blow up when water flows.

"Hey, Kaleb!" Yuki, neck deep in dirt, waved her paw to greet the wolfkin, "They let you out already. Who is your new girlfriend, is she from Siri’s pack or something?"

"Actually..." Kaleb began, but Aranea laughed.

"I will let this indignity slide, Yuki. Provided that you will wash yourself, before going to rest."

"Aranea?! No way! How the hell are you so huge!" Yuki blinked in surprise. Nearby, a wolfkin screamed in worry as one of the huge wires nearby snapped, mud shot out from the torn rubber.

"How is it looking out there! Is it water yet?" Aranea heard Sly's voice from inside a nearby one-story building. Several wires were going into the basement of the building.

"It’s mud. Muddy water!" Yuki shouted back, laughing, "For the record, I am not drinking it! And you said you'd wait until we fixed it..."

"Can’t sweat over every single detail! Now we know that this wire is not suited for our task, we can replace it. Let’s test the next one…" A loud noise came from the building.

The flow of mud stopped. In the next moment, a part of the wire near Yuki exploded, and a torrent of water hit her, throwing her facedown into the dirt.

"How about now? Is it clean water this time?" Sly inquired from the basement.

"Yes, you bastard! Now come out so I can drown you in it!" Yuki angrily shouted, trying to regain her footing, as water washed away the ground from under her and the warrior fell on her face again.

"I will go on alone, from here," Kaleb whispered, as Aranea was laughing, looking at how Yuki was trying her best to stand up, "Please don’t follow me. Do this one thing for me." The wolf hag nodded, and the small wolfkin moved toward the building of the shamans. He knocked on the door, and one of the shamans came out, a female in richly ornate power armor. She glanced with disapproval at the situation nearby, before looking at Kaleb. He tried to say something, but the shaman raised a single finger, stopping him. She put a finger on his forehead, uttering prayers for his future wellbeing, thanks to the people who treated him, and prayers for his speedy recovery. Deciding to trust Kaleb on this one, Aranea moved away from this place, just as a screaming and angry Yuki was busy dragging Sly out of the basement.

Aranea walked all the way to the temporary command center. This wasn’t much of a headquarters, just a place where both warlords could contact the command. The Wolf Tribe was not involved in military planning, they struck fast and then waited for new orders. Planning, rebuilding—all of this was new to them. The guards let Aranea go inside the single-story building, and she found warlord Martyshkina lying exhausted on the armchair, while Janine was standing nearby on wobbly legs, looking in the window. Martyshkina poured some alcohol into a glass and noticed Aranea.

"Oh. You really survived, girl. Congratulations." Martyshkina quickly drank from the glass, "And you are all beefed up now. Finally, you accepted your gift, I see. This deserves a shot of celebration," She poured more alcohol and swallowed it as well, "Also shot in memory of my dearest Sonya…" Another glass was filled and then depleted.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"You never even talked with Sonya." Janine calmly noted.

"Actually, Sonya is alive. She is currently in the hospital," Aranea quickly said, "And I pushed the power back."

"Well, that deserves another shot of celebration and one shot of regret." Martyshkina consumed two more drinks.

"Just drink the whole blasted bottle, will you?" Janine said with a hint of annoyance. She let go of the window and turned toward Aranea, "Aranea, was she the… Of course not. My congratulations on your victory. I approve your promotion. Now you are to rest until the evening. Try not to overextend yourself and eat more, such a sudden change is bound to have an effect on both your body and mind. I will send some engineers to you, to make adjustments on your armor. Tomorrow we are to rest according to the orders of..." Anger and hatred appeared in Janine's eyes, yet she finished her speech calmly. "… our masters."

"As you command, warlord." Bowed Aranea. "Is everything alright? I've never seen you so... so..."

"Don’t lie, you saw me without my jaw." Janine snapped, calmness returning to her eyes, "As for right now, if you think me weak or unsuited to lead, then challenge me. I will show you the meaning of power."

"Don’t listen to her, girlie," Martyshkina hiccupped, reaching for the next bottle, "She just pissed that black and blue were using us as pawns once again."

"Pawns?" Aranea asked in confusion.

"Our dear leaders just contacted us," Ironjaw spoke calmly, turning back to the window, "Tell me, have you ever met the wyrms? In person, I mean."

"No, my warlord."

"Enough with the warlord for now. For the next ten minutes, I give you permission to speak freely and stand freely. Take away the bottle from Marti, if you want to drink."

"I will fight to the death for my precious!" The second warlord protested, "They are mine, all mine."

"Wyrms can make you talk," Janine ignored her and started to explain. "Not like "talk-talk", not with physical violence, oh no. They look at you, and you can’t help yourself but to do anything to please them. You know how you sometimes forget some minor detail? Well, wyrms can drag it out of you, because, deep down, you do remember it. This process is mostly harmless but leaves you in a mess for a while. And tonight, they questioned us, thoroughly about our encounter with the Resistance. Every single detail, every minor thing that we saw," Janine's paw moved from window to window, fist clenched, "And why do you think this is so? Why were all three of them, black, blue, and gold, in Uglo when we called to make our report? We're supposed to believe that they all just hang out all the time, despite hating each other's guts. It’s because they used us once again," Janine growled, "The wyrms needed information about the enemy. The blue one knew that the black one would never allow our troops to die in vain, so the blue one tried to play it all by himself, yet the black one ensured that Marty would be nearby just in case. The wyrms knew that I dislike the blue one, and they knew that Marty would support me, so they sent me here to tip me off by allowing me to see this carnage. Then they, or one of them, sent an unprotected convoy to tip off the Resistance, and here we are, everyone made a move, all without the wyrms ordering anything directly and without them breaking the truce. Now they know more, the Resistance has proven to be unreliable, raiding force destroyed as the blue one intended, the Resistance contacted their spies in various places demanding to know what the hell happened, allowing minions of the black one to locate and capture spies. And we are reminded that we are just pawns, pawns that can be easily predicted and controlled."

"To be fair, Wyrm Lord apologized to us. He too was kept in the dark about this." Martyshkina stated, "He promised to make up for…"

"Make up!" Janine roared in anger, before starting to whisper passionately, "Make up for allowing black and blue to use us! Weakling-in-chief indeed, he is unable to reign in his minions. Screw him. I hate being used as a pawn, I hate it! Ravager never treated us like this. We were the storm back then, we were the death!"

"Come on, it’s not all that bad," Martyshkina tried to cheer her fellow warlord on, "Our losses are vastly smaller under new leadership, we also have access to better gear. You said it, remember? Some changes are needed. Abyss, Wyrm Lord, even persuaded the shamans to let the wolfkins receive payment. We are no longer working for free, and now we can buy all kinds of stuff…" She went silent and smiled innocently as Janine looked at her.

"Trinkets. Trinkets for our honor. For our dignity," Janine breathed heavily, trying to hold back anger, "We are growing soft."

"Warlords, I have a question," Aranea said, not wanting to waste any more time on useless regrets about superiors. She had far more important things to worry about. Ironjaw looked at her, and the wolf hag quickly corrected herself, "Janine, Martyshkina I need your help, please. One of my pack, is reaching the age when he should go to tent to the shamans for the final farewell. I was thinking that perhaps there is a way to..."

"Yes, of course," Janine let out a sigh, "I will issue a declaration that will postpone the killing of our elderly until the war is over. I'll need the vote of another warlord for this. Marty would you…"

"Don’t even ask," The warlord saluted her with a glass, "You have it. I hate this stupid law anyway."

"Laws are laws. "They were put in place for a reason," Ironjaw said to the other wolfkin, but the warlord simply showed her tongue and drank another shot. Janine decided to ignore her and turned back to Aranea, "Until the end of the war, he should be fine. After the war, if he survives, he will have to face his destiny," Janine turned to Aranea, "There are still two ways to save him. One is exile…" Janine looked into the face of Aranea and nodded, "I see. No need to explain, I feel the same as he does. The second way is, if you will offer your claws for his life. The ritual of declawing."