Janine calmly gave herself a word that she would murder any invader coming closer to her. Unfortunately, it was Drozna who came upon her, dragging the Warlord by her leg across the long halls. Her claws left barely any scratches against his damnable bone plates, and she wisely decided against trying her fangs and instead relaxed, allowing wounds to get closed.

Brood Lord was a fool. Years, is it? Soon, very soon, the Blessed Mother will wake up from her slumber. Outsider and Devourer had both, no doubt, already received the news. The Horde is finished; they are now just dead men walking. She had half a thought of staying a prisoner, just to see firsthand the panic in Brood Lord’s eyes at their approach. But no. There were other captives. She had to get them out. She must keep Ignacy safe!

Janine groaned slightly when Drozna threw her into a cell, holding her arms and legs, while lesser raiders were busy locking her in thick chains and putting oversized shackles on her wrists. Letting them do their job, Janine looked around. Once, this place was a cold storage facility. After the conquest, the winners took most of the food out, leaving just scraps, and put it in several cages. One for normal soldiers. One for Wolfkins. And the last one for Janine. With relief, she saw Ignacy secured to the cell’s wall with iron chains. Her son blinked several times.

I am fine. He said it with gestures, bowing his head in a sign of acceptance and grief. In the days prior to receiving communication and gear from the state, the Wolf Tribe invented their own system of signs and touches at certain intervals for silent communication. Created by the joined efforts of Dragena and Alpha, this type of communication is meant to imitate a state of confusion as closely as possible, making it hard for outsiders to spot it.

Your brother. My fault. Janine blinked back several times and sneezed at Drozna, earning herself a hit. She spat at the cretin’s shoulder in response, enduring another punch to the stomach.

Fool. Stop messing around. Love you. Ignacy bit her lip several times, transmitting the message. The last part of the wordless dialogue meant an admission of love between two soulmates, but Ignacy purposely wounded his lower lip with a fang, showing that he was speaking about blood ties.

They didn’t dare speak to each other out loud. Not after what happened with Bogdan. This was a cruel lesson, but one Janine has taught all her cubs ever since their birth. Never reveal family ties if the enemy has captured you. A lesson she learned through the deaths of the four children. A lesson that she has failed to uphold.

Bogdan. I am sorry. So sorry.

“Keep an eye on her boys,” Drozna hiccuped, stepping aside. He briefly pulled at the chains, making sure they were properly secured, and turned around.

“Won’t you be staying with us, Drozna?” A raider asked.

Drozna moved, cratering the raider’s head into a nearby wall.

“Drozna? Drozna? I am an officer in Brood Lord’s employ! Address me by name once more, and I will eat you alive!” He let go of the man, turning to the other guards. “I met a real cutie tonight. He and I are going to spend a night at the city’s edge.”

“But… the woman, Brood Lord has said…” the raider stood up, shaking blood off his ears.

“The big bitch is beaten and bloodied. Just keep her in chains; she ain’t running off. As for the rest, have fun…” Drozna walked out of the room, and the raiders hurried after him, pleading with the big man to reconsider.

“Warlord?” A normie asked, moving closer to the bars of his cell. Unlike the Wolfkins, the guardsmen were not tied up in their cell. “You saved us. We owe you our lives.”

“You owe your lives to the state, soldier,” Janine replied. “For its eternal glory, I will see you survive and put them to good use.”

She looked at her shackles, testing them with a claw. A rare alloy of some kind, one that resisted all her attempts to leave a mark. But… She turned her paw around, calculating the size of the shackle’s hole. If Janine could just break her paw, she should be able to pull it out. Sure, it will hurt a bit, but the bone structure should recover itself eventually, keeping her in a fighting sha…

“Cousin,” the ice fang said, bowing her head. “I am sorry about your…”

“Shut up, bitch,” Janine told her, allowing the rage boiling in her son to come out. “Take your fake condolences and shower them down your ass. Your damned masters brought this upon us. Call me ‘kin’ or ‘cousin’ ever again, and I will murder you, Ice Fang. I am Janine of the Wolf Tribe. And I am no kin to your honorless kind.”

“C… Warlord,” the Ice Fang corrected herself. “What has happened was horrible, but I…”

“I, I, I, it’s always the same with you, parrots, always I and your damn honor. Shut up. Let me think.” Janine snapped her fangs, ignoring the Ice Fang.

Sword Master Macarius was tied up next to the knight. His arms and legs were missing, along with his armor. The wounds were badly bandaged, and the bandages were soaked red with blood. The man’s head was hung low, with a tongue sticking out of his mouth. Janine looked him over, noticing swellings in his shoulder and near his waist. Infection. No doubt he is sick, too. Another difference between a Wolfkin and an Ice Fang. Their immune system was crap. A dead weight in the coming war, but with the state’s medical services, he can be saved. If she can get this traitor out fast enough.

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If. Too many ifs. Can she really pull it off? No. No more doubts. The Reclamation Army can’t afford to lose any more Sword Saints or Warlords. Her tribe can’t afford to lose lives in vain. That and… Janine really wanted to see Bogdan’s cubs one more time and apologize to his soulmate. So. What does she know?

Drozna is out for tonight. Brood Lord is one of their major khans; he will have to leave. How long can he afford to stay? The Horde was never stationary for long. Does this mean he plans to take her along? Not necessary; with this Phaser fellow, he can come back and torture her at his leisure.

Janine started counting seconds to herself, ignoring the knight’s words. Eventually, one of her soldiers told the Ice Fang to shut up. Can she afford to stay and wait for a more favorable time to escape? No, Macarius might die. Not only did he rank above her in terms of combat prowess, but he also had a power. Just because he is an idiot, do not devalue him in the state’s eyes. Foolishness is curable. Death is not. Janine looked at the shackles and chains of the others. Just at a glance, it looked like normal steel. It made some sense; an alloy impervious to her claws must be as rare as possible. Her fangs will do the job.

So, what are the options? Dokholkhu and the raiders she spared? Too risky; Janine can’t be sure of their help. The best-case scenario is to wait an hour and break her paws. How long will she be unable to stand and walk properly? Had she been in her pride, Janine could’ve recovered in an hour. Right now, she wasn’t sure, but two hours sounded about right before some mobility came back. Can she take the guards as a cripple? Yes.

By spitting at Drozna, Janine had scent-marked him. This will let her smell him from miles away, potentially allowing them to escape any pursuit. Where to run? Not Houstad, with two armies battling out, it would be impossible to cover the ground. Not to the south. Macarius needed urgent medical attention. Only one choice remained.

The Oathtakers. The corners of her mouth twisted. Janine had the displeasure of meeting them in battle, losing some and winning some. She even got herself captured once and traded back for a new breed of equal value. Oh, the Oathtakers were nothing like the Horde. They treated her wounds and allowed Janine freedom in the prison in exchange for word of her submission. Truth be told, the worst about them were the missionaries who tried to convert her and the other captives to swear the Oath.

The Oath was an unseen binding, keeping most of the new breeds linked among the Oathtakers. It was a power of the founder, and once sworn, its effect was impossible to remove. According to the researchers, the Oath subtly influenced people, prompting them to abandon thoughts of corruption and aggression against fellow citizens and commit themselves to the betterment of their country. A nice initiative, but still a form of mind control and thus unacceptable to the state. The Dynast was willing to tolerate many shady things for the sake of unification, but constant mind control over a population was too much, even for him.

Thankfully, the two countries are at peace now. With any luck, Janine would be able to convince the Oathtakers to let her go and join the final stage of the war while they were keeping Macarius and the others safe. Janine had her doubts that the Oathtakers would not use this to their advantage somehow, but at the very least their move would be aimed at purely political gains.

After half an hour, she heard the door slam and turned her head, seeing Dokholkhu approaching along with two guards.

“Leave us,” the malformed demanded, coming closer to Janine. Keeping a safe distance, he kicked her in the stomach with a long insectoid leg, causing her to twitch in anger at this betrayal. “She and I have a score to settle.”

“Dokholkhu, just because Brood Lord…”

Dokholkhu turned around, standing up on his hind legs. His front legs came upon the raider’s neck, grabbing it and holding the man in place. His comrade tried to reach for his weapon when Dokholkhu pressed two hooked knives above the first raider’s eyes.

“Either let me take my vengeance upon the whore, or I will extract a pound of flesh out of you. Which one will it be?” Dokholkhu asked calmly. The raider blinked nervously and nodded.

The malformed let him go, turning to Janine. His knives struck at her shoulder, piercing the skin, while the guards walked toward the exit. Janine tried to bite the bastard and only got another kick against her jaw. Dokholkhu chuckled darkly as the door closed behind the guards.

“So much for not wanting to be here,” Janine spat in his face, marking him and preparing to break her paws.

“I have spoken with the two guards,” Dokholkhu said in a calm voice, spinning the knives in his hands. When he spoke, his voice sounded both careful and nervous. “Is it true that your state accepts malformed?”

“Yes,” Janine responded, catching on to the game. “The state accepts pretty much everyone.”

“Even those who have done something truly cruel?” The malformed asked carefully.

“If you are tired, have a rest. If you sinned, repent. As long as you are alive, life offers all kinds of chances.” Janine tried to shrug her shoulders, finding it impossible because of the chains. “How old are you anyway, Dokholkhu?”

She felt stupid. Someone like Ygrite or Zero could build rapport with even the worst types of scum, making them confess without laying a claw on their skin. Janine herself had trouble leading a normal conversation, but she has tried her best to emulate them. Most importantly, was not to lead a prisoner to the thought that they were irredeemable. Always leave a little leeway, giving your prisoner an out to ensure better cooperation.

“I lived for two thousand and eighty-eight days. Today is my eighty-first day.” The malformed slammed himself in the chest.

“You are joking,” Janine looked at him, checking his size and the somewhat childish look in his eyes. “Eight years old?”

“We grow up really fast,” the kid said, glancing aside. “Die fast as well.”

“A cub? I was killing children?” Janine shook her head, remembering the malformed she had slaughtered back in Houstad. Damn it. How old was she? War was Abyss, but the Wolf Tribe held themselves to some standards. Standards she ended up breaking. I will turn myself in later. “Listen to me, Dokholkhu. Drop everything. Like literally, drop whatever you are doing and leg it. Now. Find a Wolfkin, any Wolfkin, and give up. No one will hurt you if what you are saying about your age is true. You can’t stay here. Your fucker of a father will kill you. But outside, there are people who can help you. If you’re afraid of Reclaimers, try to find some Oathtakers, or better yet, Iternians; they won’t hurt any cubs either.”

“I am sorry,” the malformed responded, taking a step back. “But it isn’t this easy. Give me… some time. We will speak again.”

“Boy…” Janine started, but he had already come to the door, calling the guards back.