Aranea caught the rail gun in her paws and immediately turned to Chort, feeling how her heart was about to jump from her chest. The mercenary still carried cuts and wounds on his body, but she could see how they were getting smaller by the second. The swollen skin, lacerated wounds, and even burns were all turning back to smooth skin right before her very eyes. Chort wore no armor and was constantly attacked by her pack, but he moved faster than she did, weaving like a quicksilver around incoming shards and dodging laser beams before they could be fired. The mercenary may be an enemy, but his ability to concentrate on numerous things on the battlefield made even Aranea feel awe. She wasn't sure if even Janine could match his skills. Chort moved after Olesya, slowly gaining ground step by step. The moment he reaches the ruins, the mercenary will be able to hide from incoming gunfire and massacre all three packs with ease.
Let’s stop him then, shall we? Aranea aimed at Chort’s head and fired. With the corner of his eye, the mercenary noticed her moment and jerked his head to the side, creating a blur motion in the air. The plasma projectile kissed his cheek, leaving a burn and setting part of his gray hair aflame. The mercenary’s face twitched in anger, he half turned to Aranea, dodging a laser beam that left a mark on the palace. Aranea’s own shot speared the broken roof of the palace before storming into the skies.
Chort kicked a car-sized piece of stone rubble in her direction. Aranea ducked, allowing the massive stone to pass above her head, crashing into the square behind her and trembling the ground. The moment Aranea tried to straighten herself up, she received a manhole straight into her chest. The metal disk bent itself upon coming into contact with her armor, but the impact behind it was strong enough to throw her all the way back into the rubble that landed behind her. The wolf hag felt the stone cracking underneath her back. She felt blood on her lips, either she bit her tongue, or her armor failed to dissipate the full impact of the blow. No matter. She thought, feeling how the ground was trembling from a battle that raged between King and Ivar. She dared not to spare even a glance at them, hoping that the blue wyrm will actually live up to his reputation.
When Aranea looked at the mercenary, she saw that both his arms were buried in the ground to the elbows. The wolf hag saw something moving down his arm, moving beneath the skin, like a host of worm parasites.
"Attention everyone, Chort is trying to create new allies. Expect an attack from underground." Aranea took aim at the mercenary, and he tore his arms from the ground, evading a projectile that took away his right elbow. With a frown of pain on his face, Chort started changing his fingers into tubes capable of firing bones.
A scorching beam came from Leila’s location, burning away Chort’s fingers to the bone before he could finish the transformation. The mercenary’s eyes looked behind Aranea, making a rapid throwing gesture with his skeletal looking arm. The bones beneath his wrist dislocated from his arm, changing into hooked bone projectiles, aimed at Leila and other soldiers. The speed at which Chort unleashed these projectiles far surpassed that of a normal bullet, and Aranea had little doubt that these bones would pierce both armor and flesh. She failed to even find time for a quick prayer when a wall of water rose in front of the projectiles, saving the lives of her soldiers. Ivar, still locked into combat with King, casually found time to aid them.
We can do it! Aranea thought, firing at the enemy and leaving a torn wound in his torso. Step by step, she was getting used to his movements. He was far faster than she was, but with fire from all sides, she could predict him.
A booming sound caused one of her ears to be suddenly deaf. The raging storm that was the battlefield between Ivar and King came to an abrupt halt, causing nearly everyone on the battlefield to stop and look at them. Stillness devoid of all sound fell upon both fighters, King unleased a crimson beam at his opponent, Aranea could see that the engine was roaring on his back, but no sound could be heard.
"Captain Ivar is in trouble." Olesya stated the obvious. Aranea could hear the straining breathing of the warlord somewhere near her and Svetlana’s curses.
Fuck him then… Aranea wanted to say, but bit down the words before they could come out. They were on the battlefield. Scum or no, allies had to help each other: "Sly, try to pinpoint whatever causes this thing. You remember the weapon with which King dropped the warlord? I bet he has another one like this. Leila, Velka, Ultis," She said, reading the names of the scouts who were armed with laser rifles, "If Sly can find the thing, light it up for the captain, once you get an angle! I will…"
She dropped to the ground when Sonya sent her a warning message. The enemy hover tanks have finally arrived and were now firing at the reclaimers. One of the shells flew above her head, hitting a nearby building. Aranea rolled to the side, firing another round at Chort and causing the mercenary to roar in pain when part of his leg to the left of and slightly below the knee disappeared. She wanted to fire another round when the rail gun sent a signal, indicating that she was left with a single round.
"Enough of this!" Chort reached to his belly, his fingers went through his flesh as if it was a water surface. He grabbed something and pushed it out, showing a remote device to Aranea. She cocked her head in surprise, and Chort pressed a button.
The palace shook, one part of the roof exploded, spitting out stone and flame. Through the roaring destruction, Aranea could have sworn to hear screams.
"There are a number of civilians in the palace, locked in several secured rooms, filled with explosives, by accident, I assure you," Chort smirked to Aranea, docking momentary, evading a shell coming from one of the hover tanks, "Careful you idiots! You nearly hit me!" The mercenary hissed, looking at Aranea, "Here is the choice. All our civilians are ready to give up their lives for our noble cause. You can attack me, and this will cause further deaths. Or give up Martyshkina and call Valerye here. Then I promise this to you, you can all leave. Even that winged bitch. I only want these two now."
I don’t know any of them. Aranea quickly thought, ignoring his boasting. Chort had to be mad to even hope to beat Valerye or Ivar, and Ivar would never, ever allow for negotiation with any terrorist. The blue wyrm will undoubtedly kill the mercenary once he has dealt with King. Or else Valerye will kill him. If I stay near him, he will kill me. If the Resistance wants to kill their own, why not let them If I die here then what about my rev… She remembered the dead in the hospital and the family that Annie managed to save. Right now there, in the palace, are new tragedies being made, the families that are torn asunder, the same way her family was torn. The halfbreed bit her tongue all the way to the blood. Is this the kind of person my parents would like me to be? No. She decided.
"No, you won’t blow up anyone else, you stinking asshole. Not if you care about your precious legacy." She smiled at him, noticing a tendril of flesh coming from the ground. The tendril disappeared before she could focus on it. She wondered if Chort made it somehow.
"Oh? But if I kill you all, I…" Chort stopped when he heard a booming sound coming from the site of the battle between King and Ivar. A howling wind moved past Aranea, moving in the direction of the captain.
"Dumbass!" Aranea mocked him, showing him the middle finger, "Our power armors have installed cameras! We recorded your every word and action. Just you try to press the trigger and I will release the footage! Actually, I will release it either way, just to spite your ass!"
"You… Your kind really angered me enough for one day, doggie!" Chort’s face changed into a mask of rage, "None will leave this place now!"
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"There are ways to kill someone who is stronger and faster than you. A well placed ambush, coordinated efforts…" Aranea remembered lessons of Janine, when the mercenary made a step toward her.
"What about one-on-one?" Aranea asked Janine back then. She and a few other cubs were sitting by a fire, eating cooked insectoids. Janine always tried to teach the youngest members of her pack whether she could, and on this night, she was overseeing a hunt instead of Sonya. Janine was far stricter than Sonya, the warlord rarely stepped in to help cubs hunt insectoids. Unless their lives, limbs, or eyes were at risk, Janine only watched them hunt, uncaring of any slashes they received, unlike Sonya, who was always there to block a hit.
"Well, in this case, you will most likely die," Janine bluntly told to Aranea, "Flee if it comes to such situation. Surrender if you can’t flee. Beg for your life, for honor is fleeting, but duty is eternal. But if you can’t do any of these things… Try to quickly figure out what triggers your foe. Can you rile up your opponent with words? If nothing else, try to use insults. If your foe loses a mind in a fit of rage and makes a mistake… you just might have a flicker of a chance. Even a difference in speed can be mitigated if you can force your opponent to go in a straight line towards you. But beware! For rage can also unlock hidden reserves in one’s body. Never mock a dying opponent." Janine warned all the cubs sitting before her.
These were the words that Aranea followed now. Enraged, Chort leaped at her. His right arm transformed into a bone blade. The blade arm lifted to the sky, intending to cleave Aranea in two. His eyes were locked on Aranea’s rail gun. His rage clouded his mind. He was only worried about the rail gun. Chort was sure that he could kill Aranea with ease if he just stayed away from this weapon.
Everything that she knew about him was now coming back to him. Chort wanted to kill Leila because of his vanity. His pride demanded the death of Valerye. His ambition drove him to claim Martyshkina’s head. She made her bet and tried to read his attack based on what she knew about him. Chort never viewed her as his equal.
And her bet paid off. She sidestepped the swing and slammed the elbow of her right arm into Chort’s chest before he could land on the ground, sending him back several steps. His rage made him predictable, even she could dodge such an obvious swing. As Chort's body moved backward, the blade missed the mark. The wolf hag raised her rail gun, aiming at his chest, and she saw how a look of surprise came onto Chort’s face. He could not believe that he was outsmarted. He was hit by laser shots, that left burning marks on his body, shells and bombs rained all around him, however he was looking only at Aranea.
She could have killed him rather easily at this moment. But the moment he moved his arm with a remote device and placed a finger on the button, Aranea switched her target. Instead of shooting him in the chest, she shot away his left arm, preventing another explosion and destroying the remote device completely.
And now I will die. She understood this with clarity, seeing how Chort landed on his feet, regaining his balance and composure. Chort looked at her, all rage was gone from his face. The mercenary's body shifted, with his torn arm regrowing and new eyes, like scales, covering him from neck to arms. He moved forward like an angel of death, his footwork allowed him to evade explosions and fire around him. Some of his newly grown eyes were popped out by explosions anyway, but the ones that remained allowed him to track the wolfkins, adjusting his advance. Aranea tried to back off and tried to reload her rail gun for another shot, but he was too fast now! This fighter, who was far stronger and more skilled than she, was coming for her. She made her choice and now had to pay the consequences.
Time itself seems to slow down. She saw how his hand moved toward her chest again, but this time Chort was calm and collected. There will be no more tricks that she can pull at him anymore. A chill ran across Aranea’s spine as she understood that this was it, the end of the line for her. She has regrets, she will never avenge her family, she will never change the Tribe now. She had fears, she was afraid of what would happen to her pack and friends without her around.
With fear came content. As a child, she wanted to be a hero. But this was just a dream, one that will never come true. Heroes were strong, they always knew what was right and wrong. She was weak and was fighting in the bloody war that had already taken the lives of so many. But right now, standing here, she was glad about something. Given the choice to save her own live her, or the lives of people in the palace behind Chort, she would have made the same choice as before. Originally, she wanted to become a soldier to save lives and create songs about herself. Today, she managed to save at least several lives. Songs were irrelevant.
"Everyone, fire on my position." Aranea said her last order in a calm voice. She wanted to say some words of inspiration, ask for forgiveness for her mistakes, but found herself too afraid. All she could do was focus on the task at hand. Chort could dodge all he wanted. But if she could hold him in place just for a little while…
Aranea understood that she couldn’t. Chort was faster than her, pushing forward with all his might his left hand almost reached her breastplate before she even lifted her paws to grab him. She saw his fingers becoming sharp bones, capable of ripping through the steel. He made a thrust...
His hand shattered before it could reach her. Aranea blinked in disbelief, refusing to acknowledge that her heart was still in her. Chort’s humanoid eyes became wide open, he looked at her with pure shock. A black line ran on the ground, some unseen force pushed the stone way into the ground with incredible precision and might. The line was no more than a finger wide.
Chort’s body was flung away from Aranea and the ground by her side exploded, unleashing two blues who grabbed her legs. Still in shock from being alive, she tore her legs free from their embraces, taking a step back while they rose to full height. One clawed arm moved toward her snout, and Aranea leaned back, letting go of the empty weapon and allowing the thrust to come over her. Her claws struck, finding the sides of both creatures, hitting them where the lungs were supposed to be. This did little to hold them down, and the claws moved to her head, forcing Aranea to curse slightly. This will leave a mark, but at least I’ll live…
Two swords struck out above her, passing side by side like scissors' blades. The upper bodies of both blues were sent away, the blades cut cleanly through both muscle and bone. Aranea felt how two strong hands grabbed her by the armpit, dragging her back and putting her upright.
She felt genuine horror upon seeing the backs of her saviors. Their pristine white power armor. One was armed with a long claymore that he easily wielded in his right paw and a short shield that was mounted on the elbow of his left arm. Another was armed with a broadsword, a massive tower shield was behind his back. They turned to look at Aranea, and she wanted to scream, seeing the blue lenses of their helmets, helmets that covered their heads fully, leaving no place for their mouths to bite the enemy. One wore a cape of deep gold, another had a cape of deep blue.
"Knight captain Keyl Summerspring and knight Zeke Sunblade are at your service, kin." The wolfkin armed with a claymore said in a voice that Aranea never thought to hear ever again.
Ice Fangs. Ice Fangs. Ice Fangs. Ice Fangs. Ice Fangs! They will take me back to the cave, they will… Damn it, I have a duty! Aranea bit her tongue to the blood, feeling her fangs tasting her own meat and earning the looks of both knights. My poor tongue. Aranea thought, realizing just how badly she hurt herself.
"I assure you, kin, no dishonor will fall on you," The second knight, Zeke, quickly said, "If not for your quick actions, the future citizens could have been hu…"
"My thanks." Aranea forced herself to say, sounding like a stranger due to the wound on her tongue.
"Enough of this farce." A new voice spoke up, and Aranea turned to look behind her.
A figure locked in pure white power. This was no wolfkin, the voice sounded rough, coming from a round helmet with a single visor that showed a green-eyed face beneath. She was smaller than either of the knights, yet both of them immediately dropped on one knee, while she walked forward, a long white cape helped by her pauldrons, almost touching the ground. Unlike the bulky power armors of the Ice Fangs, meant to inspire awe and fear in equal measure by providing their users with the utmost boost to both speed and physical might, the power armor of this woman looked lean and thin, granting her the utmost freedom of movement. The woman cracked her fingers, covered by the elegant metal of her power armor. A serpent was painted on her chest, an almost perfect copy of Devourer.
"I am chief inspector Javenika. Thank you for your help, wolf hag, I will take it from here," The woman said to Aranea, giving a friendly pat to the wolf hag, before walking toward the mercenary, "Keyl, Zeke, you are to ensure the safety of our allies, while I am taking out the trash."
"See?" Aranea heard the voice of Ivar and looked to see how the wyrm was towering over King. King’s armor looked damaged, while the blue wyrm had not a scratch on him, "A true commander knows how to benefit even from troubled times. Only pawns are left in the dark. And you are still in my shadow. Time to end this."