"You two… were dating." Janine spoke slowly, her gaze fixed on the bulky man in front of her.

"More like we had a night of passion," Alek scratched the side of his face, where the metal on his left side was intertwining with the flesh of his natural face. "Scarry and I had drinks, hugged, and overslept all the way until the morning."

Janine opened her jaws, then closed them, trying to process the information. She and her troops were in Ash Forest, a place so named for the countless dead trees still standing here after the demise of the Old World. Apparently, they were genetically engineered to endure almost everything, and, well, this was an obvious lie. Although the eggheads claimed that there is life deep within these trunks still.

Ashbringer was supposed to join them by now, but Ivar contacted the forward party, reporting that this idiot nearly got herself killed. Janine immediately gave the command for the rest of her forces to slow down and retreat, leaving herself and Olesya with little forward force to hold this position. Another report came in, this time from Scorpio. Jekaterina launched an attack on one of the crawlers who had advanced too far, killing all who resisted and allowing prisoners to flee. When the soldiers arrived to retake the crawler, the Soultaker triggered the explosions, burying herself and the state’s soldiers under tons of steel. So far, there has been no sight of her.

The black wyrm asked the Wolf Tribe to hold this position, if possible, in order to ensure the integrity of the front line. Without the supplies and protection of the crawler and without the aid of Ashbringer, Janine felt the soldiers exposed, taking up the front position herself and sending Olesya in the rear. If Jekaterina is sneaking behind their lines, Aranea and the others will need all the support they can get. Annie was no true warlord, no matter what others might say. Olesya was another thing entirely.

The Reclaimers were spread too thin, having advanced too quickly into enemy territory. Ivar was wounded and could no longer turn the situation for now, and Scorpio was busy weaving his webs, releasing prisoners of the Soultakers for some future gain. This left Janine at the tip of the spear with no one to support her.

And now she had this bastard, making the warlord unsure of what to say. Sergeant Alek asked for a chance to speak with her, and she gave him this privilege, inviting him to her tent. She expected a complaint about the long march or the need to ration food and water or about the fact that they had to stop their advance, waiting for the other forces to catch up.

What she didn't expect was for this jerk to date her deceased daughter. She felt a boiling rage inside her, the veins pulsated beneath her neck. This? This speck? Dared to touch her honey, her precious? At first, Janine didn’t believe this bastard, but he told her some… intimate things about her daughter that only her really close friends knew.

He called her Scarry, for Spirits’ sake?! The warlord wanted to jump at him, laws be damned, to feel his blood in her throat for the mockery and lies that he had dared to speak to her…

She breathed out instead, calming herself. Alek came to tell her about what Scarred One told him. About her shame. Oh, honey, if I had only known. The warlord let out her claws, piercing the cloth of her pants and biting into her own flesh.

The warlord recalled the day her precious child was born. A single girl, along with four brothers. On that bright day, she was caring for and whispering to her cubs, sitting at overheated stones, and smiling at the clouds. Her sons were no longer with her in this world, but each of them left an offspring, and Janine always checked up on them, although she was worried about the youngest of her grand granddaughters. Nagaina always found a way to get into trouble.

Janine was a horrible mother. When Anissa lost her eye to the insectoid warrior, did she comfort her? No, she berated her for being weak, only smiling after Anissa passed the test. She forced Anissa to get a prosthetic eye instead of respecting her decision to be crippled. She forced her daughter through training course after training course, earning numerous scars. For Spirits’ sake, she made her dominate others and cheered her on! Is it any wonder that her daughter wanted nothing to do with her and kept the distance between them? Janine always stormed out, assured that her precious was now strong enough to stand up for herself, and it was always so…

It was until one day it wasn't so.

No, Janine would never blame Anissa. Never, ever. She would have supported her decision to keep the cubs alive, for fuck’s sake, she would protect Anissa if… If… She did stand by her daughter’s side at the Gathering, right? It has to count for something. If only Anissa would have trusted her, if only they… They… The warlord cursed herself wordlessly. She blamed her daughter again.

Only unspoken words now lay between them. She remembered hugging her daughter when she was scared of the night, and after her first kill, feeling the small body shaking in her gigantic arms, worried sick about her future. Why didn’t Janine ever tell Anissa that she loved her? Instead, she scuffled at the little one, mockingly calling her weak. Punishing her. And now Anissa was dead. In part because of the stubborn faith in the old ways. Faith that Janine beat into her.

Janine saw her reflection in the steel of her axe. A broken mess. A relic of the old time. No more. No more, Anissa. I will change. I will never lay a claw on anyone from my Tribe, I will not dominate, I will inspire, I… I will be worthy of you. I can be better than this, I have to. For your memory.

The warlord stood up, and Alek warily stepped back. Janine smiled to him and put her good arm on his shoulder:

"Thank you for telling me, sir." She had a burning desire to ask him if Anissa ever spoke of her, if…

The scream from outside her tent caught her attention. It took Janine just a few seconds to throw on her power armor and jump outside, facing the rows of soldiers aiming their weapons at the surrounding forest, while shouts of excruciating pain were ringing somewhere from between the trees.

"Report!" Janine roared and sniffed the air.

Blood. From the south… No, from the north! West now… Traveling in circles around the camp, bringing the source of the screams with it, almost as if... The warlord frowned, failing to detect this foe.

"Warlord!" A wolf hag saluted her, "Three soldiers went missing from the middle of the camp. The soldiers report that they saw a gigantic man, armed with a sword spear, right behind them. The drones detected no approach to…"

"The drones are out!" Another soldier shouted. The man sat before the terminal, looking at the display in disbelief, "All at once, in a…"

The flame devoured the rest of his words. An incendiary artillery shell hit the ground next to him, exploding and turning the soldiers into screaming figures of fire. The wall of fire busted in all directions, and Janine swung her weapon down, creating a push of air strong enough to split the explosion in two, negating its range somewhat. The warlord's nostrils inhaled the smell of burning flesh, while all around her, soldiers tried to put out the fire from the tents.

"Cull the wounded," Janine pointed at the thrashing bodies of mortally wounded soldiers on the ground, "And begin the retreat to Alpha's positions, we're exposed here!"

The warlord threw her head up, seeing more flaming dots in the air. Bulging the muscles in her arm, Janine threw the axe up, ignoring the barking shots coming from the shardguns as the warriors shot the burning people in the heads. The soldiers covered in napalm were either dead or in so much pain that it was a mercy to let them leave this world unbothered by pain.

Her axe hit one of the incoming shells, creating a fiery explosion above the camp and detonating three more. Two more landed to the west of the camp. By the time the flame came from above, the soldiers were either in full power armor or were in the safety of the armored vehicles, thrown in by the wolfkins.

Janine noticed the shapes in the trees and caught her axe, raising it in greeting to these new foes. She did not question how they showed up here or what happened with the patrols. The patrols were undoubtedly dead by now, and the second question will wait.

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The soldiers, clad in silver power armors stylized after a human skeleton with black long coats over them, fired into the retreating soldiers from under the trees. There was no offer for surrender and no hesitation among their ranks, not even when the pack fired back, killing and wounding some of them. They moved in perfect unison, unafraid and undaunted, while their red lenses gleamed in their helmets. Soultakers. And not just anyone. The Old Guard. They send elites after her.

All the better. Power armors or not, weapons or not, you all are still normies. We are not.

Janine threw up her flamecaster, unleashing a stream of fire into the front rows of the foes. The laser blasts and gunfire left marks against her armor, but the warlord endured. This time, her enemies felt her rage, screamed in pain, and fell to the ground. The warlord snapped her fingers, and two shamans moved in, leaping at the front lines and covering the ground with the crimson blood of their foes. Janine moved to join them when she heard a faint scream to her right.

A gigantic figure stepped out from the trees. He alone was without power armor, the aggression and bloodlust from him could almost be tasted in the air. In his right arm, he held the sword spear with two soldiers and one wolfkin pierced on it. Their arms were missing, and Janine saw with horror how the big mouth opened, biting away all three heads in one chomp.

The cannibal. The one with whom Martyshkina fought. The one who mutilated Olesya. Huntsman. And he called out to her.

She obliged of course, racing to him, and his smile widened while he looked past her. In confusion, Janine stopped looking back. A dark-skinned youth with no hair on his head, dressed in a black leather coat, came from the trees. He walked among the troops, coming almost next to the shamans. They ignored the weaponless opponent, and this was their loss. A wave of darkness emitted from him, touching both allies and shamans and transforming everyone within five steps into stone statues. The youth smirked and snapped his finger, returning his allies to flesh while the shamans remained statues made of stone. Only their flesh was that of the stone, the power armor and their clothes still existed as they were.

"Take the prisoners, strip them off the power armor and prepare a cell for them. Capture the warlord! Alive at all costs!" The youth commanded, and Janine felt pain in her left arm.

The flamecaster was gone. Huntsman raced past her, shaking off the bodies and slicing through her weapon. While Huntsman moved toward the retreating soldiers, the shattered rings and mechanisms rung across the ground.

Janine could have run. The warlord’s life was too important to be left on the battlefield like that. But when she saw how Huntsman was closing in on Alek, she made her decision.

I want someone else to remember her.

She charged into Huntsman’s back, and both of them rolled off their feet, kicking and pushing each other. They sent each other aside and jumped on their feet, axe against sword spear. Huntsman's attacks were vicious, he looked for any weak points in her defense to cripple her, and Janine responded with a methodical defense, trying to learn her foe and lead him to a mistake.

Huntsman never made one, always using the full reach of his weapon while he fought against her. The sounds of battle died around them, leaving only their thunderous hits against each other. They battled for a good hour, none managing to hurt another, and the daylight fell on the ground. The soultakers formed a wall around them, keeping their distance. Janine heard the movement of some vehicles within the forest and understood that Huntsman was baiting for time.

I want to live.

She battered aside the sword spear with her axe, smashing her ruined flamecaster into Huntsman's face, tearing up all the skin up to the nose. Huntsman responded in kind, punching her at the same time, breaking the metal of her lower jaw and leaving it hanging.

I want to change.

Janine and her foe kneed each other at the same time, throwing up air from their lungs. She recovered first, headbutting him in the face and pushing him down. His stupid hat flew off his head. Huntsman smiled at her, his teeth perfectly white, and pushed her axe away with his own weapon. With his free hand, he grabbed Janine by the left jaw, pushing the warlord’s head aside and sinking his teeth into her.

I must endure.

She felt heat on her shoulder, heat that appeared because her blood poured out in a fountain. The bastard gulped, drinking from her wound as if it were a cup. Using the adrenaline that shot through her body, the warlord overpowered the hold of her opponent, leading her axe toward his ribs. She felt how his jaws pressed even tighter into her flesh, the bastard was putting in every ounce of effort to overpower her.

Janine stubbornly pushed on. She endured countless battles. She defeated Brood Lord and protected Houstad. She will not give in. The axe started getting closer. Never. Now it was an inch from the enemy’s flesh. Her duty is to bring victory, to…

The axe slashed through the empty air, and Janine looked forward, dumbfounded. He could not escape. Not from this range. He wasn’t this fast…

The sword spear crashed against her wounded shoulder, nearly breaking the bone. Janine fell on her knees, rolling clumsily to evade the slash once she first felt steel against her flesh. She stood up to face the roaring fire and the Soultakers standing outside of it. No Huntsman.

Something hit her from behind, slicing through the armor at her waist. She gritted her teeth, turned aside, and her axe swung through the empty air, creating an arc of air strong enough to throw the Soultakers outside of this "arena" off their feet, bisecting some of them.

"You want to dance with Janine Ironjaw?!" The warlord roared and made a thrust with the lower end of her axe, hearing gasping sound behind her. I figured you out, fucker. Marti was on to something! "You better be praying for miracle!"

She turned around, bringing her weapon down in the arc. Huntsman, still standing on his knees, disappeared. Janine made a full spin around, landing a hit of the Taleteller on the foe who reappeared behind her. The axe tore part of his biceps from the right arm, and Huntsman cursed, grabbing his weapon with both arms.

He coughed up some black bile on the blade of his spear, bringing it down on the warlord. Janine and Huntsman gave it their own, bringing their weapons against each other with full might. Like an explosion of the oil tanker, the resulting sonic boom flung the Soultakers away from the camp, reducing every remaining structure to nothing. Janine felt the strain in her right arm, she had to use her left hand as well, clumsily applying the pressure just to keep the blade away from her.

Huntsman was insanely strong. She had a few encounters with such power. Valerye. Alpha. Brood Lord, but she defeated him thanks to both arms. And now he. And Janine no longer had both arms.

"The only one who will be praying for something here is you." Huntsman said into her face in an unusually melodic voice for someone of his size.

She kicked him with her right leg, right into the ribs, and the sword spear shook. A grimace of pain appeared on his face, and Huntsman responded in kind, kicking her in the ribs. They took turns kicking each other while both of them tried to cleave their opponent with their weapons.

Is this it? Janine wondered, feeling her ribs shatter along with her power armor. Kick. Kicking back. Gotta say a sorry way to go. Maybe Valerye will show up? Alpha? Anyone? Kick. Coughing blood. Kicking back. The warlord admitted to herself once more that she wanted to live. She wanted to change the Tribe, to make sure that no other mother had to go through what she had to to. She wanted… A kick, and the vision blurred. Janine shook her head, returning the pain.

"Live!" She roared, unsure to whom, and pushed her weapon upward, breaking the hold.

Huntsman fell on one knee, blood coming from both corners of his mouth, mixed with something black. He held his weapon horizontally, and when Janine brought Taleteller down, he charged forth, slicing across her belly.

Janine suffered a stroke. Her heart exploded with pain in her chest. It was strange, the blade merely sliced her skin, it failed to reach the stomach. The fire burned in her muscles, eating away at her strength and forcing the warlord to her knees. She gasped, barely finding the air, and fell face down, struggling to move even a muscle.

"Excellent!" A youthful voice shouted, and a black-skinned Soultaker came forward, rubbing his hands, "Tie up the bitch! She will win us quite a prize at the negotiation table…"

Pain speared Janine's back. She saw through the systems of her power armor how Huntsman bit her in the back, chewing through the armor and ripping away a solid chunk of flesh along with steel, devouring it with a disgusting wet sound.

"What are you doing?" The soultaker shouted, running to them, "Stop! Stop you maniac! Soldiers, fire at…"

Everything went silent. Janine found herself leaning against a massive tree, far away from the battlefield, with Huntsman standing before her. His power carried them through space.

And now she was at his mercy. He didn’t say a thing, simply biting her instead. When his teeth reached her right breast, biting it away along with the power armor around it, she shuddered from pain, unable to move. The cannibal took his time, licking his fingers, before pushing his left hand into her mouth.

Janine steeled herself, feeling how his hand spread in her mouth, tearing the palate. He tore away the augmented jaw along with her tongue, spearing her with another surge of pain. The metal flew aside while Huntsman threw the tongue into his mouth, gulping it down.

Sorry Marti. We're not going to steal some males or build that bar you've always wanted. We won’t have proper families. But don’t you dare give up! Find a proper male, like…

Next came the turn of the bones in her shoulders. Huntsman pulled them one by one. Then fingers paw and legs. Next her knees. Next, he started beating her in the face, prying away a piece of the skull next to her nose. Janine tried to bear the pain, but in the end, she pissed herself, coughing up pleas for mercy and a quick death, feeling how the blood drain from her body, encasing her in cold. Cold. In the Ravaged Lands.

Spirits. Spirits I beg you. Please. Sent me to Anissa. Let me fix my mistake. Let me be a mother that she deserved. Janine pleaded for mercy or death, locked in delirious pain and unable to see anything after Huntsman bit away her eyes along with the eye sockets. Her end was not something worthy of a song.

Warlord Janine saw not only Anissa but all her cubs, each and every one of them, perhaps as an act of mercy from the Spirits or perhaps as a result of her hallucinations. They smiled to her, waving her to a large dinner table, somewhere where war no longer existed. Males and females sat together, equally happy.

Janine died with calmness, slowly being eaten alive. And the war still raged on.