Lifting the skewered raider, Iron Lord observed how blood was running down his halberd. Only gasps were leaving the man’s pained face; his weakened arms desperately grabbed the halberd, trying somehow to save himself. The fool has dared to demand Iron Lord’s immediate assistance and paid the price for such insolence. In his annoyance, Iron Lord turned off the disruption field, making the fool suffer the consequences.
How does one defeat a country? In the ages past, armies marched against each other. Economic blockades were established, starving off the enemy. In fateful clashes between armies, in clever negotiations in high cabinets, new destinies were forged. Strategy, discipline, might, numbers, technology, flexibility—through these currencies, a future was purchased.
But in the present day, such notions are dubious at the very least. Starve the Horde, kill every last one of them, and what did you really achieve? Mad Hatter will still be here. Through her might alone, she would conquer all, forming another Gilded Horde. Demigods were walking the land, smashing hundreds with their might and shattering a false sense of security, casting doubt on both numbers and strategy.
So how do you take down a country in the current age? By taking down such individuals, culling them, and essentially disarming your foe before sending in your elite soldiers and lowering the curtain. A simple plan, but how do you ensure an opportunity to massacre a demigod? By luring them out in the open and cutting them off from their allies. How to achieve it? It depends on a demigod, but these Reclaimers… they cared for their young.
With the idea clear, Iron Lord contacted the traitor, wrestling this fool from the clutches of Brood Lord. The idiot knew very little, but through some research, the traitor had obtained once-secret information about places of study belonging to the white-furred mutants. After a careful calculation based on the known location of the enemy forces, Iron Lord had made his decision. And the Horde has gained a target.
Casting the dying man on the floor, Iron Lord allowed the thunder bull to feast. He and his elite guards appropriated the local warehouse in this small settlement. Built around a so-called Knight Academy, the settlement thrived thanks to the generous donations from the order. Placed deep within the Reclamation Army’s territory, fools even lacked a wall.
On this morning, hover bikes raced across the street, breaking the morning silence with the barking of pulse rifles. After them, the infantry charged in, lobbing explosives into the towering Knight Academy’s complex. The sturdy stone blocks endured the searing heat, only melting slightly as the riders encircled the place, ensuring no victim would be able to leave until the trap was sprung. The fool in charge of this invasion had led her soldiers in a headlong assault, ending up being bloodied by the defenders. Iron Lord paid these losses no mind; these soldiers belonged to Brood Lord, anyway.
He arrived in the settlement soon after, claiming a warehouse for himself and refusing to explain anything to the khan. Iron Lord grinned beneath his helmet, admiring the empty place. Barely a hundred or so people were left in the settlement meant to house four thousand, according to the traitor. The rest have taken the mayor’s advice and left on foot, most likely with some hunters as guides. In the thickness of the forest surrounding this place, they might even stay hidden long enough to reach Houstad. For all the good it might do for them.
The mayor hurried to him, pleading and begging Iron Lord to spare the kids at the Knight Academy. Iron Lord let the fool run his mouth, observing the events through the cameras of his troops, unmoved, unbreathing. Sustained only by the life-support systems of his armor. Like a true machine. Truth be told, he cared not about the mutants. Those who survive will be indoctrinated by the priests or killed. But to keep a pretense of the proper assault, the khan knew nothing about Iron Lord’s plan and kept bombarding the place, breaking the defenses in some areas and entering inside.
The once gorgeous complex made of black stone and mixed with chromium, with its magnificent and regal imagery, has now been reduced to a pile of collapsing rubble. Barred balconies were cratered by mortar shells, cascading down in an avalanche of stones. Doors bore marks of gunfire. A dome hosting an observatory had its roof broken down and now spat out a small inferno of flame. Arching passageways between the complex’s buildings were toppled by energy blasts and turned into ruins.
Within the complex, the raiders went blow for blow against instructors clad in outdated power armor. Iron Lord admired the dedication and efficiency of his foes, how they almost danced across the walls, jumping in the middle of the raiders’ ranks, slashing and hacking in the ensuing chaos, rather than making last stands. And in the end, all was pointless. The instructors still died under hails of bullets; their armor cracked and got broken, and their cowering wards met the same fate as the enraged soldiers broke into the classrooms.
Barbarity unleashed came here, introducing the foolish locals to the harsh truth of their shared world. And there was…
Iron Lord inhaled the air, stirred by another surge of aggression pouring on the street. An axe came from the forest, bigger than a human body. Spinning in the air, the weapon cleaved through five raiders and got buried in a hoverbike, exploding it and setting nearby soldiers alight. Their armors saved their lives, leaving only burns on the exposed body parts. But two shots from within a forest—the shots that speared through a dozen trees—ended their lives, tearing arms, breaking ribcages, and shattering heads.
With a roar of engines, two massive super vehicles, oversized parodies of the Provincial Army’s own APC, came crashing onto the settlement, breaking both trees and buildings in their path. One smashed its way through two hoverbikes, and another plowed its way across a group of raiders, leaving broken steel mixed with innards in its path.
Giant figures leaped into the fray. One was armed with a long spear; a single flick of her wrists had severed three necks, and the knight in shining armor moved forth fast enough to evade even a drop of blood falling onto her cloak. Another giant leaped across the roofs, firing her revolvers down and creating human-sized cracks in the pavement each time a bullet came into contact with it. No raider had managed to survive these bullets. Other, lesser copies of their leaders danced among the ruins, firing their ugly versions of shotguns into the raiders and slashing those near them.
And the last figure that jumped out of the forest. This one looked familiar. Clad in a light version of the order, she jumped over raiders, claws slashing, leaving bisected bodies to fall on the ground. Two unlucky raiders got trampled by rather short legs; their bellies busted like wine barrels, spitting out viscera and blood.
I know her. Iron Lord calmly observed the woman reaching out for the axe. He ignored the vehicles’ fire and the raiders’ screams as ramps came down, allowing dozens of Wolfkins and Ice Fangs to cannoned into the enemy ranks. This weird mutant. Oversized limbs, short legs…
The escapee. His lips spread in a predatory grin. Despite carrying a fake insignia, the way the mutant cleaved her way through the Horde’s ranks pointed to her being a Wolfkin. Not a hint of mercy, and all the aggression in the world. A snout lunged forward, biting off a woman’s head.
Two Warlords and one Sword Saint. And here he was, hoping to attract at least one. A real win.
“Prepare to fire Sky’s Wrath at my location!” Iron Lord snapped at the firing crew, opening a direct link to another commander. “Brood Lord! I need Phaser’s help. Get his ass ready to open a space rift at my command. Use the video feed of our troops to deduce our location.”
“Why? What are you doing, Iron Lord?” Brood Lord demanded to know.
“Fixing your mistakes, imbecile,” Iron Lord replied, raising his halberd and allowing sounds to finally leave his helmet, becoming audible once more. “Gilded Horde! To conquest and riches! Swallow the world!”
“Swallow the world!” the bodyguards roared back.
The thunder bull trotted onward, leaving the gaping mayor behind. Accelerating, the beast broke through the walls, letting stones and pieces of metal harmlessly thud against Iron Lord’s armor. A disruption field flared around the halberd’s edge as the khan pointed toward the slaughter.
They came down like a flood, making their way straight through the settlements’ buildings. Calm and collected even now, Iron Lord paid note to Brood Lord’s communication with the panicked lesser khan on the field. Relying on the cooperation of his rival’s minions was putting him at a disadvantage. What if they leave him stranded?
“Horkhudagh.” Iron Lord contacted the Flame Whip. “Stay close for support.”
****
Divide. The Taleteller came down, cleaving a man before her in two. Pierce. The claws struck, lifting the man gasping for air. Jaws opened wide, catching the coughed blood and drinking vitae like water. Tear. A bite ruptured the spine of a fleeing raider. Divide. Divide. Divide!
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Janine broke the law. Cold fury was born in her veins at the sight of yet another safe haven despoiled, and she cannibalized the foes, uncaring for any civility. The raiders surrounding the Knight Academy had tried to retreat, only for the warriors led by Anissa to jump at them from behind, forcing the cowards into the proximity of Janine’s fury. Roars and howls filled the streets, drowning out whispers and the begging of the dying raiders. Impatient One mounted a raider wearing a khan’s insignia, tearing off the woman’s limbs one after another, like a cub toying with an insectoid. Then the claws got plunged into the shrieking woman’s lenses, ending the raider’s life.
The Ice Fangs were shocked. The Warlord could feel this much. Bertruda had joined in the slaughter, but everything in her posture hinted at the hidden struggles against refusing pleas of surrender. The Twins and the Blessed Mother had instilled these rules, adjusting them as the state grew. But now, at the zenith of a grievous strike aimed at one of many hearts spreading civility and understanding within the Reclamation Army, its soldiers have abandoned the former principles, influenced by Janine’s cold rage.
She was the only one not to howl, getting too busy collecting a toll out of the invaders’ bodies.
“You have come to our lands,” Janine thundered, spinning the axe in her paws to battle aside bullets. A rider tried to ram her, only to be met with the Taleteller’s lug, sending the man’s upper part high in the air along with the wreckage of his bike. “Bringing death into civilization.” The edge of her weapon flashed out, taking away the legs of three raiders. “You came as monsters.” She kicked, hitting a pureblood raider in the thoracic area. The metal of his armor bulged, but the fat within endured, absorbing the impact.
“Please,” the raider pleaded when Janine turned her kick into a stomp, collapsing the man onto the ground. Once more, his armor cracked, but the enhanced biology saved the bastard’s life, giving him only a few shattered bones rather than having his spine pushed through the chest. Bloodied lips moved. “Mercy! I beg…”
“And monsters you met.” The claws came up, tearing through the skin. Janine made a single step, collapsing the man’s chest beneath her weight and making the bastard spit out torrents of blood and gore from every orifice, pushing even his eyes against the helmet’s oculars. “Rip apart, Reclaimers!” Janine roared, sending a command for Kalaisa to lead her pack around the academy, coming down at the raiders trying to break in the rear doors. “Deliver retribution!” Another command saw Anissa stopping her ambush and her pack climbing at the buildings, forming two firing lines that downed the riders before they could charge into the Wolfkins’ ranks. “Let them taste our fury!”
One more command made the defenders slam down their shields, blocking incoming shells. The explosion rocketed the center of the Reclaimers’ formation, but on her HUD, the warlord saw the traitors enduring, saved by the shields’ field. Not caring about standing their ground and enduring the explosion, the Wolfkins rode it instead, allowing the impact to scatter them around. The knights behind the defenders lifted their blades, unleashing ranged hell at the grenadiers.
Plasma came from underneath Bertruda’s wrists, immolating a few brave enough raiders trying to mount a last defensive line. Martyshkina jumped off the building, landing in an explosion of stone and blood, the cloak flapping against the wind. Two shots ended the last riders. And amidst them came Janine, covered in blood and gore, the blue lenses flashing, a raider’s head in the claws of one hand. Seeing her approach broke whatever morale the raiders had, and they surged away from the building, trying to find respite in the settlements.
As if it would be granted to them! Shardguns spoke, and the APCs’ rotating cannons added to their fury, leaving fist-sized holes in the enemies. A few civilians showed up from the rubble, only to be pointed immediately toward an APC.
“Into the Academy!” Janine pointed the Taleteller’s eye at the broken-down doors, which collapsed under the rubble.
The packs and soldiers charged toward the Academy, only to find the main entrance sealed shut by tons of rubble, leaving just an airway entrance in the side, too small for either of the new breeds to use. Hearing shots from inside, Janine waved the troops aside, bringing the Taleteller high. She will shatter the damn stones if…
“Prey!” Martyshkina cried out, and a moment later, the ground trembled.
House after house started collapsing, unable to withstand the bulk of the advanced forces. Pebbles and steel chunks on the ground moved, and waves appeared in pools of blood at the approach of this thunderous foe. A yellow flash in the building’s wall alerted Janine to the worst, and with a casual elbow kick, she sent a traitor away from the searing beam, which flew through the space where the man’s head was a moment ago, dissipating with a hissing sound against the stones.
“Kalaisa, Anissa, find a way inside! Lead the cubs toward the airway; we will deal with the situation here!” Janine commanded, sending packs to the north and south, splitting them evenly under scouts’ command, marching forth along with traitors Bertruda, Impatient One, and Marty.
And the buildings before them exploded; cinderblocks turned to dust, broken by the hides and steel. Their foes showed themselves: thunder bulls carrying towering rides encased in thick metal armor, led by a truly enormous figure. Where every other had a gleam of steel on their armor, the leader raider had dozens of black spots across his armor—legs, elbows, shoulders—everywhere. Fingers, almost as thick as Janine’s paw, were gripping the handle of a long halberd, its blade dragging across the ground, the energy around its blade eating the very stones.
Where Brood Lord and Drozna were big, this fellow matched Mad Hatter in size. A round helmet fully hid the face, leaving just burning oculars to focus on the reclaimers. Armor plates, more fitting to be placed on a tank, protected hands and gave feet an ugly rectangle shape.
Marty spun the revolvers in her paws, firing at the leader’s head and at a rider to his left. Her shot tore through the smaller rider’s helm, exposing wires and blood beneath, making the man shake in his seat, but he still kept up his advance. And a field of energy formed a bubble around the leader, deflecting the shot with a thunderous explosion. Marty dove to the side, evading a cannon mounted on the leader’s shoulder. An energy ball sent by the cannon created a hissing sphere of energy, turning the pavement within a meter radius into a molten pool.
Close range it is. Janine jumped ahead of her troops, giving command to the scouts to fire at will, aiming at the exposed enemy’s flanks. A sonic boom formed behind her jump, billowing knights’ cloaks and adding to her moment. Like a flying missile, she came upon the enemy, meeting the hissing halberd with the Taleteller.
Two weapons met each other, and the air screamed, pushed aside by the fighters’ might. Both the thunder bull and Janine halted, their momentum arrested, as fighters struggled to overcome each other. In the brief, perfect vacuum that airlessness created, all sounds vanished. As it poured back in, Janine heard the whines of the armors and the barking of weapons as both sides came upon each other.
Bertruda dodged a spear aimed at her head, making a full, graceful spin in the air and cutting the carotid artery of a thunder bull. The massive beast stumbled, its legs weakened by sheer disbelief that a single cut could possibly bring it low. But its rider was already leaping, unbothered by the loss of his steed. Two spears came against each other, and the spears’ blades flickered against each other, leaving cuts on the raider’s armor and missing Bertruda altogether.
Marty had dodged an axe swing and had away a thunder bull’s leg, making the beast fall on one knee and firing into the steel-clad raider. The man bounced off the bull’s back, bringing his axe at the revolver’s barrel. The warlord battered the weapon aside, breaking the enemy’s faceplate with an elbow hit.
“An interesting alloy,” the leader said in a calm tone, paying no attention to the situation. The light of his oculars intervened with the light of Janine’s lenses and devoured it. “I am Iron Lord, great khan of the Gilded Horde. Tell me what sort of metal your axe is made from, and I promise you a clean death."
Janine said nothing, switching a side of her vision to witness the devastation brought about to their forces by the enemy. Each of the newcomers was a hard opponent. Shardguns failed to penetrate their armor, leaving dents and notches. The traitors’ weapons fared little better, marking the raiders with burns. Even after meeting the Horde in the open, the Reclaimers were the ones to find themselves trapped.
The gyrated and swinging bodies of the thunder bulls hit like a whole truck filled with cinderblocks; their mere steps left behind a flattened limb or outright killed soldiers. Wielding energy weapons, the raiders set the entire area on fire, making the defenders hastily retreat to safety, abandoning the protection of the main entrance. Two smoking knights’ corpses fell on the ground, soon followed by three Wolfkins, and the raiders had yet to lose a single life. Kalaisa and Anissa looked down, climbing on top of the Academy.
Janine ignored Iron Lord, sending a command for the wolf hags to proceed. On her orders, the packs spread even further, aiming at the bulls’ eyes. Her second command put the traitors to the test, wielding their long range weapons and APCs’ cannons, they fired at the wounded steel raiders. Widening the gaps and hitting the soft metal within.
And then… Her heart stopped, grasped by horror. Janine saw him. She saw Marco. The boy dropped from underneath an APC, rushing toward the Academy on all fours.
“Marco!” Janine screamed. “Get back in the vehicle!”
Questions rushed through her mind. How is he here? Betrayal, obviously, the traitors had set up the Wolf Tribe again. But how exactly is Marco here? He was wearing an exosuit, but for a cub of his gentle age and for someone with his sickness, it should not be possible to hang on the APC’s belly for so long. He should have fallen off! Marco should have been safe!
Her son. Marco is in danger.
“I can help!” the boy shouted, climbing to the airway. “It’s going to be okay, Warlord! I will bring others to safety!”
“You idiot! Back! Back to safety!” Janine shouted in desperation, trying to push against the bind.
Her son… Terrific appeared once more, sitting on Iron Lord’s shoulders and tapping a long claw against the helmet. Dim eyes looked at Janine with contempt, dissatisfied with the choice of armor. Withered lips spread, uttering a single word in a barely audible whisper.
“Restraint…”
Yes. The warlord bit her fangs, noticing Marco’s shoulder camera joining the pack’s view. A dark corridor of the airway appeared on the screen as the boy climbed inside. Restraint. The hallucination was right. Janine is a leader. And her duty lies here, in ending the danger before her and preserving the troops. Restraint.
Terrific shook her head, as if trying to say something else, but another surge of fear made both fighters tremble. Even the thunder bull stomped, snorting angrily.
“You… how are you doing this?” Iron Lord asked, and his shoulder cannon moved, pointing at Janine. “I see. The information was wrong. Die.”