“Lucky. She is alive.” Marty holstered her weapon, and Janine embraced her. “You look like shit, Jani.”

“Feel like one too. But I live,” Janine said. “Ice Fang. Immediately add the Wolf Tribe’s IDs to your identification systems and open full communication channels. We have brought your traitors with us. One of them is badly injured. To the infirmary with him. Warn the doctors: if he dies, your hide is mine. Next, malformed and some deserters came with us. Malformed are our trusted allies, but assign someone to keep an eye over the deserters…”

“Cousin…” Bertruda started talking.

Janine rammed the bitch into the wall, cratering a dent with her armored body and making nearby technicians and engineers jump. Nearby sages tried to step in, only to be stopped by Marty.

Bertruda did not resist, and this made this whole thing so much harder than it needed to be. Janine wanted to beat the life out of her; she wanted to break this elegant snout, to paint gorgeous hair with blood, and to see her fangs torn asunder. But they were at war, and Bertruda was an ally.

That’s right. Bertruda. She is a living being. Forget everything. Concentrate on the name. You are better than this, Janine. The lives of your cubs depend on proper cooperation!

“Never again call me like this, traitor.” Janine lifted Bertruda by the collar of her shirt.

“I am fully accepting the guilt, Warlord.” The Sword Saint did not try to break free. “Because of our actions, we have brought much pain to you and our kin of the Wolf Tribe…”

“A pox upon my pain! I am not special! And kin!?” Janine roared, slamming her into the wall again. The force behind the blow made Bertruda’s silken cape fall from her shoulders. “You dare to use this word in my presence? When have you thought of us as kin? Maybe when your kind refused to coordinate your mad attack with us, huh? The Blessed Mother had assigned Dragena in charge of the army, and the order spat into their faces with your insubordination! Or were we kin when Ice Fangs cut us off from coordination and we ended up falling into your trap? Kin? How come the order still hasn’t granted us full access to your systems? We nearly perished because of this when you fired a missile at us! My son died. My sisters in name had perished.”

Knights and sages started showing up from the fortress’s bowels, all belonging to various households. She felt their judgmental and arrogant looks, heard weapons being readied, and found herself not carrying in the slightest. She was done treating the order with cubs’ paws.

Janine struggled to keep her cool. “And how many of my sisters and brothers have perished because you keep us locked away from the communication channels? Wounded and strained, they were left alone. Because of your kind. And you yourself! You challenged me to a duel when I was injured and weak! Tell me, bitch, is this any way to treat your allies, much less a kin?!”

“I…” Bertruda looked at Janine, and genuine anguish appeared in her eyes. Janine wanted and begged the Spirits so they would prompt Bertruda to make any excuses. She would’ve killed her here and now. But the Sword Saint only nodded. “I accept the responsibility. On my authority as a Sword Saint, I will provide full communication access to the Wolf Tribe and face First Judgment later.” She nodded to a sage, and the man dashed into the land ship’s corridors.

“Why?” Janine asked tiredly. “Why has the order done it? Why the betrayal?” The Sword Saint was silent, and Janine pressed. “Look! Look at your precious Mountain Guard! At the soldiers bequeathed to your leadership! How many of them had fallen, giving their lives because of the order’s madness! This battleship of yours—do you really think its main guns would not have aided us in the battle for Defiance? What was it all for?”

“There was no betrayal! We… we merely sought to save the Knight Academies,” Bertruda forced words out of herself. “In the past, the Wolf Tribe always kept us in the rear, aiming to collect the glory of combat for themselves. First, Leonidas and Camelia had decided to seize the initiative because they were worried…”

“That we will let the order cubs die?” Janine whispered. Her eyes widened in disgust. “Glory? Is this how you view our pain, deaths, and sacrifices? The order thinks us glory hounds?”

“Janine, I…”

“It’s Warlord Janine, traitor!” Janine stopped herself from attacking. “Leonidas paid with his life. Macarius paid with his limbs. But you…” She let go of Bertruda, pointing a finger in accusation. “You ran. These traitors at least tried to remedy the crimes committed. How will you pay?”

“In any way I can,” Bertruda replied sternly. “Name your price, Warlord. Anything to restore the broken bonds between our people.”

“Nothing will repair what the order has broken. Left arm, now!”

Bertruda readily offered it, and Janine started painting. A claw came from her finger, and Janine plunged it into the woman’s flesh, writing names. Bogdan. Eled. Predaig. And more. The Warlord wrote the name of every Wolfkin who had died in the hospital and during the capture, tarnishing the woman’s skin with her writing.

The Sword Saint raised her other paw, stopping all attempts for aid from her soldiers as Janine had finished her bloody tapestry. Once rich in fur and carefully combed, Bertruda’s limb no longer had any former beauty. Janine acted carefully, avoiding damaging any muscles, bones, or veins, but she had ravaged as much skin as possible, tearing through whole swaths of fur and leaving letters all the way to the shoulders. A small pond of blood has gathered in the Sword Saint’s palm.

“I will never remove these scars,” Bertruda promised.

“Irrelevant. You are dead,” Janine told her. “Either the war sees you perish, or after it, you and I are going to the circle. This time to the death and damn desires of the Blessed Mother. The military court may aim to preserve your life, but I will have my retribution. Justice will be served! Be glad that you aren’t the first one on the menu and pray that my anger has subsided enough to grant you a simple death. Medics! Bandage the traitor before she bleeds out! What is the status?” she demanded, pushing Bertruda away.

The Sword Saint allowed a medic to work on her as she was walking and gestured for the Warlords to follow. Martyshkina gave Janine a military coat, and Janine eagerly put it on, happy to wear something at least.

She had more words to spew and more curses to throw at Ice Fangs and their blasted order, but upon seeing a cub, younger than Marco, standing in a doorway, she bit her tongue. Yes, this young one will grow up to be a traitor. But this doesn’t excuse her snapping and maiming his supposed leader before his scared crimson eyes. With a snarl, the Warlord commanded a knight to lead the boy away, feeling burning shame at her outburst.

Who is she turning into, Alpha? What was the point of scarring Bertruda? When you want to kill, you kill and move out. Justice is not torture, and torture is at best a tool and at worst a waste of time. And she just wasted her time, only confirming the order’s fears before officers from the ranks of both new breeds and normies.

No more. I am in control. Janine promised herself.

Inside the supermassive vehicle, exquisite rugs and paintings covered the walls, turning the fortress from a military vehicle into the weird form of a mansion or museum. Precious pieces of antique history were placed on display, secured behind screens made of armor glass. Ancient suits of armor, vases, musical instruments, and weird-looking weapons.

The further she came, the more surprising the place had become. Marty kicked Janine in the side, pointing at a room to the left, and Janine saw an actual greenhouse inside a spacious compartment. And not just a regular one. Several translucent spheres were placed inside the spacious compartment, containing various biomes each. A desert one, a lush green field, the harsh rocky soil of the Outer Lands, and even an actual snow and ice biomes were all present here, with several squires working on plants and small trees under the supervision of their elders.

Marco was in the snow biome, dressed in an elegant fur coat and thick pants, steam coming from his mouth as he, along with two other cubs, was enthusiastically tending to a strange tree, whose leaves could endure the coldness of the far north. Janine quickly passed by the room, unwilling to be noticed by her son. Her first instinct was to drag the boy out of the cold Abyss, but at the same time, she did not want Marco to see her now or know about Bogdan’s fate for a while. Let him have a small measure of peace and happiness. Maybe it could convince the boy to leave the tribe and live.

Tokens and money, like power, were just means to an end. For the tribe, their end was their survival and completing their duties. The order, ever expanding in both the economic and military spheres, has become obsessed with something else.

Their goal was preservation. Their knights worked hand-in-hand with the state’s scientists, keeping watch over terraforming facilities and investing colossal sums in various time capsules near indestructible bunkers. containing seeds and history records in case another Extinction happens, and in some space missiles, carrying similar packages to the outer reaches of their system.

At turns, statues of the Twins and other Sword Saints were placed, and tales of the order’s accomplishments were incrusted on the metal walls. Some paintings depicted Wolfkins and Ice Fangs working together, overcoming mighty foes.

One painting was dedicated to Leonidas and his mighty triumph over the cannibals and the salvation of the Wolf Tribe’s village. Janine half-expected to see her kin painted as mindless, snarling savages, but the unknown painter has depicted her people as loving parents, holding their cubs behind, while Leonidas was shown as a pillar of power, cleaving his way through the ranks of attackers, and standing tall atop the body of their leader.

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Another picture depicted Terrific and Dragena. Both women, with their packs forming rows of impassible walls behind them, were coming down at the mechanical drones attacking the Ice Fangs’ convoy, which transported their cubs to the safety of the Core Lands. Horror and emotionless incarnates triumphed that day, saving every single cub and ending the Steel Menace once and for all.

Why have you thrown it all away? Janine pondered, passing by sages and knight captains who formed a welcoming party on their way to the bridge. Once, she would be honored by this. Now she saw the Ice Fangs for who they really were. None of them ever trusted the Wolf Tribe to begin with.

On their way to the bridge, they met Kalaisa, who was rushing from the medical bay. Her arm was tightly bandaged, and the girl had a weird, calm smile on her face. Behind her walked her sister and her brother Kirk, both bearing slight injuries but filled to the brim with energy.

“Granny!” Kalaisa hugged Janine, lifting the Warlord in the air with some trouble. “I am so happy to see you back!”

“Granny? Kalaisa, you are not a Warlord, cut off on the familiarity.” Marty raised her brow and Janine laughed.

Her paws closed around Kalaisa’s waist, making the Wolf Hag croak. Returning the hug ten times over, Janine had made the girl bring her back to the floor, keeping holding Kalaisa in a bear hug and pushing the woman onto the ground. The Warlord stopped before the Wolf Hag’s knees could touch the rug and helped her stand, grinning at this quick contest. Neither went all out; they merely had a brief cordiality. But damn, it felt good to be home.

“Just this once, I’ll allow it. But try it again and I will skin you. Wolf Hag Kalaisa, where are you heading in such a hurry?”

“Ma’am!” Kalaisa stood at attention. “The order just gave us full access to their communications, and we received word from a Wolf Hag of Eled’s pack! She and her pack got stranded during the retreat and took cover in a mine, along with some guardsmen and civilians. Just two clicks away from us, we retrieve ‘em, Kirk will mine the nearby bridge, and we’re off, detonating it when a patrol tries to cross it and enjoying the fireworks. That way, the Horde will have to halt their expansion to the south and will have to funnel more of their forces to Houstad, like Warlord Dragena wants, ma’am!”

“Mine?” Janine raised her brow. It took all her composure not to bury her claws in Bertruda’s snout. Thankfully, the woman had the decency to look ashamed.

“All males of our pack are taught how to prepare traps and explosives, Warlord,” Kirk explained quickly, avoiding looking at his sister. He shuddered in panic when Kalaisa patted him encouragingly. “D-d-don’t worry, the bridge will fall, or my life is yours.”

“I would rather have you live it fully and happily,” Janine told him. “Wolf Hag, you have an hour. Take help from Predaig’s pack, just in case.”

“Sure thing, more’s the better party! And with all due respect, we only need half an hour, ma’am!” Kalaisa raced past them, accompanied by her siblings.

Janine found the command center much more to her liking. Normies and new breeds alike were working behind the terminals, receiving updates, and coordinating operations all around the HQ. Located deep within the belly of the massive land ship, this place was protected by tons of heavy armored plating, ensuring no sound or shockwave from outside would reach the professional crew. Bertruda took an update from an officer and turned to Janine, extending her wounded arm to allow a medic to work on the wounds.

“This just in. The Provincial Army was crushed. Mad Hatter herself took to the field, aiding Brood Lord in overcoming the defenses. The post-chaos of the battle and minefields should delay the incoming army for a day or two, but they are coming directly to Houstad, and of Commander Ravager there is no sight. Neither will Commander Devourer arrive in time, and Champion Outsider got delayed by his own duel. Warlord Dragena announced the unified retreat to Houstad for one final line of defense.”

“Then we have returned just in time.” Janine went straight to a map of the Core Lands, which flashed above the command throne. She traced the distance to Houstad with a claw and read through the reports before messaging Dragena in worry.

A series of canyons separated Defiance from the southlands. Shortly after the battle, Dragena had commanded Martyshkina to detonate most of the bridges leading to the south, something that Kalaisa was about to finish right now. This left only the north and east directions for the Horde’s advance, leaving people in the south relatively safe.

The Horde split into several raiding parties, with the biggest of them being led by Brood Lord and Iron Lord. Alpha’s pack made quick work of several such parties before they were recalled. Onyxia toyed with Iron Lord for some time and had to retreat as well, saving her troops from the burning forests. Sword Saints fared worse; according to the list of incoming reports, Camelia Winterson ended up having her gut opened by Iron Lord’s glaive and had to escape. Currently, she is in a healing coma and being escorted to Houstad.

First has made his move too. The firstborn of the Twins had unleashed his own cruelty in response to cruelty, having his soldiers mercilessly cut down any foes in their path. He made just one declaration, offering clemency in exchange for surrender, and upon receiving a negative response from the foes, no further offers followed. Any attempt to surrender mid-battle was ignored, and after the battle, First’s knights mounted heads on pikes and placed enemy bodies on the roads. This too bore fruit, and some raiders outright turned on their khans, too afraid to advance further. Thankfully, First had enough sense to finally respond to Dragena’s calls, and the Sunblades were now retreating to Houstad, evading a large force of Iron Lord just in time.

Another small army was sent to the north. Janine half expected Dragena to command the soldiers on the wall to aid with the evacuation, but the Warlord made no decision to do so. Janine quickly sent her a message, pleading with the commander to make a decision, and Dragena responded.

Welcome back, sister. I put you in charge of the retreat. Worry not about the north; Alpha and they are taking care of it.

Fur rose at the Warlord’s neck at this message. They. She knew to whom Dragena was referring. She remembered that night, the darkest day in all the history of the Third Army, when Ravager and Alpha called the fallen ones. Two empresses, binding queens of carnage to their whim and setting them at the foes. For all her hatred against the Horde, even now she does not wish their troops to meet her fallen kin. And to allow them into the Core Lands? What were Alpha and Dragena thinking?! Ravager would’ve never allowed it!

“Make preparation. We are leaving for Houstad in an hour.”

“Civilians and stranded military units will be left without aid,” Martyshkina noted.

“They will have to fend for themselves for a while. Undoubtedly, the Horde had seen the crash landing of the Sky Striker, and now it is only a matter of time before they find us. Coms’ officer! Relay the following message to all allied forces in the area. This is Warlord Janine of the Wolf Tribe to all people of the state. Civilians are to hide and survive; soldiers are to either rally at Houstad or stay and protect the remaining civilians until relief arrives,” Janine looked in the eyes of the military personnel, steeling herself. “We were hurt. Our losses were great. And once we break the Horde’s back at Houstad, we shall see every village restored, every forest regrown, and every field sown anew! Cubs’ laughter will fill the streets once more. For this future, I order you to fight. This isn’t over.”

“Nice speech.” Martyshkina rocked her neck. “Leave the packs to me. I’ll whip them into action.”

Janine walked away from the communications officer, leaving the command throne to Bertruda. She wanted as little to do with the command as possible. The Ice Fang may be a despicable bitch, yet out of them both, it was Bertruda who was trained in the art of joint cooperation between new breeds and normies. Had Cristobo, Alpha, or Dragena been here, Janine would truly be at ease. But she will work with what she had.

“Ice Fang,” Janine threw to Bertruda. “Oversee the preparations and reign over your kind. All civilians still in the area are to take cover in the troop’s compartments. Guardsmen are to join the armed ranks. No more running off and fighting on our own. We are servants of the state! Unity is our creed! And for the people, we shall fight as one!”

“Of course, J… Warlord.” Bertruda nodded and sat on the throne.

“Warlord!” Janine turned and saw Marco stepping into the command center. “Where is Bogdan?”

“I killed Bogdan, Marco,” she told him with a stone snout before snapping at Bertruda. “What is the cub doing here? All civilians should be housed and kept under watch.”

“Mother!” Marco gulped. “What is the meaning of this? You would have never hurt Bogdan.”

“And yet he is dead because of me. Guards!” The Warlord raised her voice. “I gave you the order! Take the helpless cub away and guard him!”

Janine ignored the shock and pain in Marco’s eyes at her betrayal. She made a step toward the exit when another figure stepped through.

“This is a lie, Marco,” Elzada said calmly. “Ignacy thought you might try something like this, Warlord. Ignore her words, Marco; our leader simply tries to carry the world’s weight on her shoulders again. Nasty habit. We should beat it out of her someday.”

“Wolf Hag,” Janine growled angrily, “fall in line.”

“A pack takes care of its own, remember?” Anissa stepped in, followed by Impatient One. Anissa picked up her brother and seated him on her shoulder. “The entire pack is gathering outside, Warlord. Enough of your self-destruction. Get some rest and show yourself to the medics, or we will make you do so. The pack needs its Warlord alive and well, Janine.”

It took her by surprise. She even smelled the air just to confirm that yes, hundreds of soldiers were gathering in the corridors, weapons ready. In the tribe's history, only two Warlords were ever killed because of outright rebellion. Both women were callous fools who refused to learn and wasted the lives of their packs like a junkie would waste her coins. One was shot in the back, and another got torn asunder in the melee. A rebellion was something Janine knew how to meet.

But this sort of rebellion? It was Warlord’s duty to watch over her pack, reigning in overly aggressive females, saying soothing words to struggling people, and assigning personnel to proper leaders. Packs should not have to worry about Warlords! Warlords were the pinnacle of creation, a step behind the Blessed Mother, all knowing war and obedient in civil war, an ideal to which any Wolfkin should strive! Other Warlords and the highest shamans were tending to the Warlords’ spiritual wounds. A show of weakness was not allowed.

It could not be allowed, no matter the cost! Janine was about to let her claws talk and beat down all insubordination when Martyshkina grasped her shoulder, forcing the fellow Warlord to halt in her tracks.

“They are right, you know? A wounded warrior is a detriment on a field of battle.” Mary gripped both of Janine’s shoulders and headbutted her mercilessly, sending a small shockwave across the room and making the metal tremble. Janine fell on her knee, feeling a trickle of blood running down her snout. A similar trickle appeared on Marty’s forehead. “See? Before, this would not even hinder you. Rest, Janine. Heal body and soul, and let me take care of everything in the meantime, ‘kay? It’s what friends are for.”

Janine touched her forehead and smiled sadly, accepting reproach. She stood up on her wobbly legs and nodded to her officers.

“Your little rebellion is noted and forgiven,” Janine appeared before all four of them, far faster than their eyes could track. Her jaws opened, letting drool fall on the floor, and Impatient One stood before Anissa, nervously returning aggression. “This time. Try it again, and I will break you, kin or not. At ease, all of you. Elzada, monitor Ignacy and ask the medics to send a doctor to treat my wounds. Any will do, as long as she or he is not an Ice Fang. I will not accept aid from them. Anissa and Marco lead me to my room. Impatient One, you join us as well. I need spiritual guidance as much as simple talk.”

“Mother,” Marco started, and Janine nodded, allowing him to continue. “Where is your room, by the way?”

“That’s…” The Warlord pitched the base of her nose: “A good question, actually. Ice Fangs! Where is my den?”