Adonis only laughed, dropping himself into a low stance, mimicking Kalaisa’s. Bottling down the grief about her wounded son, Janine became calmer, dodging the wide swings of her own opponent and drawing Iron Lord further away from retreating cubs. She focused on the battle instead.
Eight thunder bulls were felled, and six bodyguards of Iron Lord had been sent to the afterlife. Too few. This still left them against fifteen more, and already twenty-three of her own Tribe had been trampled, perforated, shot, or cut down. Ice Fangs fared no better, losing one-third of their force. But through this sacrifice, the Reclaimers have widened the battlefield enough, now fighting in the ruined buildings to the north and south, leaving Janine to safely duel against Iron Lord east of the Knight Academy. Ammunition was running low, bringing the inevitable all-out melee closer. Not an option. On Janine’s angry snap, the males darted to the pulse rifles.
The wounded instructor was still alive, or at least a defender reported so, although they had to break both of the instructor’s shoulders to even pull the poor soul out of the shaft. No matter. Broken bones can heal. The biggest problem was the unknown location of Brood Lord. She expected him to pursue the cubs. So where is he?
“Impatient One, Martyshkina. Watch over the cubs.” Janine commanded.
Adonis charged first. Janine saw his body become a multicolored streak of blur and calmed herself, remembering how well Kalaisa handled the situation back in Houstad. Parry both daggers and engage in prolonged melee…
Rather than blocking, Kalaisa advanced herself, seeking to bisect the clown with two mighty sweeps. Like a rope, Adonis twisted his body in the air, slithering beneath a raised arm, and cut open the armored plate with disgusting ease. His blade, coated in the same poison that disabled Anji, pierced both the hide and bone plates beneath it, finally scratching against the ribs and making the Wolf Hag gasp for air.
The man laughed, moving past Kalaisa, his voice echoing in the empty corridors and filling Janine’s soul with dread. The warlord had a hard time wrapping her head around it. How? How could Kalaisa make such an obvious mistake?
And the answer was revealed a moment later. The ceiling above Adonis exploded the moment he started making a somersault to turn toward the wolf hag. His sister screamed a warning way too late, and, in the air, the nimbly assassin had no way to dart away when legs locked around his neck and clawed paws pierced his wrists. Kalaisa turned in a violent burst, lunging at Adonis with all her might. The opened jaws bit deep into the man’s chest, breaking through bones and gulping down the heart, just as Anissa twisted the man’s neck, shattering it in one go. Adonis hadn’t had time to either scream or beg for mercy when Kalaisa’s paw found his head and popped it, sending the shattered remains of his mask over her shoulder.
“And that’s how… that’s how… the cookie crumbl…” Kalaisa spat saliva on the floor, reaching for a shardgun with the spasming paws.
“Adonis…” Heika dropped her weapons, picking up the bloodied mask. She pressed half of it to her face, creating the image of a half-scowling, half-grinning clown. “Brother dearest. I will get you for this. I will hunt you down and end your life. He was mine. His life was mine to take.”
“Sucks to be you,” Kalaisa laughed through pain and opened fire.
Heika retreated like a ghost, weaving around the shots fired by the wolf hags. The stone wall collapsed after being riddled with armor-piercing shards, showing an empty corridor behind it.
“Marco.” Anissa smashed Adonis’ corpse with a single step. She approached the shocked cubs, ignoring both, and checked the makeshift bandages before sniffing the wounds. “Thank the Spirits, he wasn’t cut by their poison.” Anissa took the little cub in her paws, cradling him, and tried to lick away the acid in his eyes, only making the young boy scream and try to shut them closer. Distressed, Anissa tried to collect herself and address the boys. “Grab my thighs. Hold as hard as you can; we are leaving with a different route.”
“Will he survive?” Gregor asked. “I-I am sorry, we were shown how to treat injuries, but never like these, and we hadn’t had a med kit, and could not clean the wounds and…”
“He will survive,” Anissa promised, still holding her brother to her chest. “He is a tough cubbie. And you did well. Both of you. No, don’t hold the steel with your fingers; release the claws too. Don’t worry about hurting me; secure yourself,” she started instructing them before throwing one look at Kalaisa. “Got to say, that was some insane plan. Heroic almost. Did a skinwalker replace you while I wasn’t looking?”
“Fuck off, Anissa.” Kalaisa vomited on the floor. “I am going to dunk you after the mission.”
“Anyway, thanks for the help. Now wrap your arms around my neck, really try to choke me. I am carrying you all out of here like little cubbies.”
“Go. I can survive on my own.” Kalaisa made no movement, and Anissa growled.
“My brother is injured, and we both have packs to watch over, you insufferable bitch! Swallow your Spirits-dammed pride and do as I command!”
“Sorry,” Kalaisa mumbled. After stumbling and nearly falling, she finally did as told. “Heh-heh. Reminds me how mommy and daddy used to carry me on hunts when they were alive.”
“Do not hallucinate on me, you delirious idiot! Choke me with all your might; imagine that I have stolen the last slice of cusack’s meat or called you weak!” Anissa grunted after the metal around her neck whined slightly beneath Kalaisa’s paws. “But since you saved my brother, just tell me, and I’ll carry you like this to any mountain.”
“I’d rather die,” Kalaisa coughed out blood. “Spirits, really feeling like dying. Can’t see a thing. Sis? If you hear me, should I die, you are in charge.”
With the people secured, Anissa jumped onto the second floor, picking up two wounded instructors that she and Kalaisa had found on their way down. Holding them both in one paw and gently carrying Marco in another, Anissa kept on retreating to the top of the Academy, ignoring the frightening gasps of the cubs.
My son lives. Janine breathed out, taking the halberd’s edge on the handle. Iron Lord’s might buried her all the way to the knees, but the warlord felt elated. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making her heart rush by speeding up the blood even further. The dusty ambers in her eyes shone like newborn suns for just a fraction of a moment, giving her the appearance of something else, a distant ideal looming over the Tribe. And Iron Lord saw it too. Faster than a bullet, the halberd rose, striking horizontally, trying to snuff away life and the potential for future problems.
Marco will need her by his side when he wakes up. Janine leaned back, allowing the distortion field to slice a part of her chest plate. She counterattacked at once, shattering the stone shackles around her legs. Marco lives! The Taleteller’s bite tore a chunk of steel from Iron Lord’s leg armor. I will nurture him back to health! A crisscrossed strike drove the khan back. The thunder bull rammed Janine in the elbow, and this time she simply pushed the beast a step back, letting go of all doubts and fears and allowing pure rage and excitement for battle to take over. My son will run again! On pure instinct, the warlord dodged an overhead strike, which left a road cleaved in two.
Live! Live! We will live! Janine’s mood slowly seeped into the packs. The Wolfkins could not really put their claws on it; the warlord would die rather than outright tell anyone of the emotions swirling without her. But the sight of their leader, weaving and cutting back, advancing like a raging sandstorm, formless and deadly, unburdened and resplendent, drove them to new heights.
“Kill! Shatter! Reclaim!” A unified howl left the throats of the surviving Wolfkins as they surged forward, and the traitors joined them, picking up the battle cry. A steel raider found himself isolated from the others after his beast was killed. Concentrated fire opened his legs; sword strikes disabled the massive gatling gun in his hand; claws and weapons brought the raider to his knees. The superheavy power armor got torn piece by piece, revealing a human-sized figure within. A single shot ended his life.
Impatient One has finally torn the leg of her opponent and has now buried her claws in the oculars, holding the man’s arms with her legs and ignoring the shrieks of pain. Martyshkina blocked the approach of two riders, stopping them dead a dozen meters from the APCs. The barrels flared, spitting out hypersonic bullets. Upon contacting the heads, the projectiles made the very air scream, leaving gaping holes in the already cracked helmets. Marty reloaded her weapons, looking inquisitively at the halting thunder bulls, and the beasts decided to retreat.
The sound of cracking stones behind her broke Janine’s concentration, making her retreat from Iron Lord. A wall that endured both energy splashes and raging gunfire has cracked. Another loud tremor has widened the crack, allowing the sun to come inside. And the third one has utterly shattered it.
Accompanied by pieces of stone and metal, Brood Lord almost flew out, spinning in the air, his sword flashing in the sun.
“Mine, mine, mine!” Brood Lord’s laugh turned into a snark of annoyance as a metal helmet hit him in the side, making the man land away from Janine. He rose to all six roads, facing Impatient One, who stepped away from a beheaded raider. “Why push your luck?” He asked with genuine curiosity. “I am after someone else today…”
“You touched the warlord’s son.” Impatient One released her claws to their very maximum, stretching the skin on her fingers to the point of tearing. “No mercy.”
Brood Lord’s brow rose when the shaman crashed into him, blocking his sword with both of her claws. A shaman’s claws were something else. Where every other member of the tribe relied on and trusted their weapons, the new age ultimately brought better tools for killing. Shardguns were slowly replacing claws, mines, and grenades, which were better suited for clearing vast areas faster. Shamans lived according to the old ways. In days of peace, they purposely shattered their claws, enduring pain and discomfort in exchange for receiving thicker and sturdier natural weapons. They gnawed on metal and hollowed out caves in the mountains, training both muscles and bones.
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And Impatient One was one of the most excellent fighters among shamans, denied a rule over a village only because of her temper and inexperience. But her martial skills? In Janine’s own view, the daughter had long since surpassed her mother, held back in line only due to Janine’s physical superiority. Healthy, unhinged by any disfigurement, Impatient One turned the very air before Brood Lord into a net of cutting slashes, engaging the khan like a fighter armed with several short swords.
Brood Lord spewed acid, only to bare his teeth at a pain in his leg as Impatient One kicked him, piercing the chitin plate. With his blade caught with both paws, the shaman brutally bit the opponent, eating a nipple.
“Wait, so the little squid was her puppy, too?” Brood Lord asked, pushing Impatient One away. “Amazing! Janine, I am working through your family, one person at a time! You know, anyone else would’ve been dead by now, but with you, I sort of grew an attachment. Seeing you writhe helplessly as I pluck members of your family one by one like vine grapes from a plate… What a thrill!” He investigated Impatient One. “Well, as fun as it was, you owe me a blood price. Time to collect.”
His hind legs moved, bending impossiblely behind his back. Like two scorpion tails, they arched behind the khan’s back and, with insane agility, struck down, breaking the shaman’s pauldrons and bringing the groaning Impatient One to a knee. Still pinning the opponent down with the hind legs, Brood Lord freed his sword.
We are monsters. Janine remembered Ravager’s words, words said to her years and years ago when the Blessed Mother found the scared girl all alone, surrounded by insectoid warriors. It is in our blood. Everything else is just pretense. Your fear is holding you down. Abandon it. Let the world hear your roar and tremble at what it has birthed.
And just like back then, this is what Janine has done. Along with her bone-chilling howl, she felt a surge of long-forgotten strength. Battle plans, tactics, dominations, a place in the pack, even family… She discarded them all. Leaving just an urge to kill. The most basic thing a monster can do for humanity. Destroy those who harm the weak.
Iron Lord was sent back, propelled by a single strike. Before the halberd could counterattack, Janine was already before Brood Lord, dragging the Taleteller across the ground. With an upward swing, she took away the tip of his leg, leaving a bloody cut across his body, rupturing the gilded armor, and bisecting flesh. The malformed stumbled back, freeing Janine’s paw just in time to block Iron Lord’s attack.
“You… you weren’t that quick before,” Brood Lord stated, running a finger across the torn gap in his armor. He licked blood off his fingers, never once leaving his gaze of the warlord. “Is that because you let another son die?” Janine growled, struggling against Iron Lord’s pressure. “Angry at me? Oh, come on, Janine, what’s a few dead children between friends? But, since you are intending to be so annoying, it’s time to lose your limbs!”
Brood Lord moved toward the warlord, almost dancing, his hind legs still looming behind his head. Impatient One stood up, preparing to shield Janine with her life, when a bullet flew between the fighters, almost tearing the sword from the khan’s hands.
“Hey, whoreson!” Martyshkina shouted, coming closer and reloading her guns. “We seemed to have unfinished business from before.”
“Oh, piss off. Go play with Iron Lord’s whelps or something. It’s Janine whom I want,” Brood Lord barely glanced at her.
“Too bad.” Marty leaped forward, evading a strike that should have taken her head off.
When has she gotten so fast? Janine wondered in astonishment. Marty wasn’t a slouch by any means, but this jump of hers… For someone who disliked close fights, her friend sure had some good instincts.
“I hate unfinished businesses and unpaid debts,” Marty continued in a careless tone, taking a blade onto the long barrel of her gun. The other revolver moved and fired, breaking the Brood Lord’s cut leg in two. “That’s one,” the warlord said with bloodthirst as the khan groaned in pain, the leg falling behind him. The pain made him sloppy, and Martyshkina pushed the edge away, freeing her weapon. “That’s two.” Another shot broke the second hind leg as it struck down. In a blurry motion, the warlord pushed both revolvers into Brood Lord’s mouth. “And that’s dead.”
The blade struck her in the side, beating Martyshkina aside just in time for Brood Lord to try to dodge when the weapons fired. Rather than having the back of his head explode, only his cheek got torn out, and the bullets flew forward, spearing a building behind it, collapsing its bearing wall, and causing the entire structure to fall. Moving on just four legs, Brood Lord retreated, closing the distance to Iron Lord.
“I got to say,” Brood Lord painted, using his sword to parry Marty’s shots. The bullets left deep dents in the sword, which endured the Taleteller’s touch undamaged. “This whole plan of yours…”
Fear. Horror.
Everyone felt this. Janine and Iron Lord both stopped, locked in a struggle. The packs hesitantly stepped away from their opponents, dragging the startled Ice Fangs away from danger. Bertruda tore her spear free from a downed enemy and made an uncertain step back to the APCs. The cubs screamed. Impatient One made a religious gesture, gulping down. Anissa nearly fell, jumping off the Academy.
And everywhere around the burning and damaged settlement, the situation was the same. Rodents and insects scurried away, whole living carpets pushing out of the ruins and running to the forests. They run, assured that if they stay back, fangs will come down, tearing into their bodies. Eyes—omnipresent eyes—looked at every fighter, trailing every moment. And midst it all, she came.
Warlord Alpha landed on the street, raising whole swaths of stone upward, disrupting foundations, and even making a part of the Knight Academy sink below the ground. Alpha, a sister like no other, kin accepted rather than kin by blood. Alpha, the Strongest Warlord, the Bane of Disbelievers, and the Punishing Whip of the Shamans.
Her impossibly long claws nearly reached the ground, and tons upon tons of her power armor were covered in thick, dried-up blood. Intestines entangled her shoulders, and sliced-off pieces of skin adorned the pauldrons, with cut-off faces forming a screaming, silent orchestra upon her chest. The topknot, pride and one of the few joys of this strange warlord, now became decorated with the freshly cleaned bones; traces of blood only added to the burning color of Alpha’s hair.
A claw moved down, plucking Brood Lord’s leg off the ground. Instantly, the sharpness of her weapon started destroying the limb, but Alpha had cast a part of it into her mouth, chewing it with two sets of jaws.
“Retreat. At once,” she commanded, burrowing her gaze into Brood Lord. Janine did not dare to argue. She picked Impatient One up in her paws like a cub, and the shaman accepted it wordlessly. Every Reclaimer rushed to the APCs, leaving their dead. Alpha addressed Brood Lord, her voice a sound of grinding gears: “You dared to harm a cub of the Wolf Tribe? The punishment is extermination. I shall leave not even a trace of your line in this world.”
“It is done,” Iron Lord said.
“Warlord Alpha! A moment!” Impatient One broke free from Janine’s embrace, racing toward the warlord, who leaned her head down, ignoring every other enemy. The shaman quickly started hushing words into her ear.
“Iron Lord.” Brood Lord moved behind his back. “I believe it is our cue to bow out.”
"Huh… I see. Piss off my battlefield." With a careless tackle, Alpha sent the shaman flying across the entire battlefield, landing the wounded woman before the APC. "Correction. I will just eat you alive."
“Stall her!” Iron Lord roared, pointing his weapon at Alpha. “A khanate ten thousand souls big to whoever brings me her head! Phaser, open the portal at once! Prepare…”
Alpha advanced. Two thunder bulls flanked her, their riders raising their glaives. Without looking, Alpha fired her wrist plasma cannons, turning the power armors into a waterfall of steel that melted away the bodies within and caused the beasts to cry out in pain as liquid metal burned away their eyes and ears. Another raider charged at the warlord, his spear in hand. He was met with massive claws.
The Strongest Warlord’s claws weren’t a normal thing. Its cutting edges were sharpened to a single atom, leaving them only slightly inferior to Ravager’s. In his research, Till Ingo once announced that Alpha can shave electrons off an atom. So prized were these claws that many scientists in the state tried their best to replicate them, aiming to create some of the most unrivaled weapons in the world. But nothing worked. Just like with Ravager’s body, every cloned part of Alpha’s body soon withered and broke unless it was grafted back to the main bulk.
This didn’t stop Ingo, of course. The man literally tried to cut away Alpha’s weapons, with her permission, of course, reasoning that Alpha would most likely regrow them afterwards. He failed. Alpha’s bones were tightly connected to each other, and the claws themselves were merged with arms, leaving Till with no other option but to try and sever the arms. An option he soon rejected out of worry for his patient’s wellbeing.
And the raider charged straight into these claws. He wasn’t as much cut as he was separated; Alpha made a hole through both the man and his beast and stepped forth, covered in crimson and eating bloody parts.
“Should’ve left long ago,” she told the falling head behind.
Janine pushed the last of her soldiers into the APCs and jumped in, almost tearing Marco from Anissa’s paws. She dropped to her knees, sniffing and licking the poison off the poor boy. A fur rose on the back of her head at the approach of an Ice Fang, a defender whose white fur went gray from age. The male bared his neck, and Janine relented, allowing the traitor to aid her in treating the wound. Together, they took the medical kit and began working, removing dirty bandages and cleaning the wounds. As the APCs started moving out, the drivers were whipped into a panic by Alpha’s fear wave, pushing for the top speed.
Iron Lord attacked with his halberd, and Alpha’s claws met the disruption field. Like Janine’s weapon, they endured. Unlike the Taleteller’s weapon, they went onward, breaking the blade, splintering the handle, and finally opening Iron Lord’s side, spilling out blood, oil, and hissing electric sparks on the ground.
“Horkhudagh! I need you at once!’ Iron Lord shouted, and in response, the sky answered.
The clouds parted, and a beam of crimson light came down. It looked like an advance of the accursed Lightbringer, an Iternian Elite, a new breed like a few others. But where Lightbringer came in a stream of photons, this beam came down like super-heated magma. It evaporated flesh and bone fetishes off Alpha’s armor, leaving the Strongest Warlord standing pristine amidst the pinnacle of heat. Ropes tying up her topknot flared and disappeared, and the hair covered the woman like a crimson cape.
From a crater between Alpha and Iron Lord rose an orb of blue flame, sprouting arms and legs and changing its shape to a humanoid form. Two dots formed eyes on a round face, and a thin black line created a mouth. Wings spread behind the floating man, with each wing colored in a different color of flame: red, white, and blue. The video coming to Janine’s HUD has become blurry, Alpha’s cameras began to malfunction because of sheer heat.
The khans and their surviving forces disgracefully rushed away. Parts of Iron Lord’s armor have started melting. The intense heat had made the blood on the raiders’ bodies start hissing and evaporating in streaks of steam. Flames erupted across the ruins, separating Alpha from her prey. And the figure kept growing, stopping at twice the size of the Alpha.
“It is done!” Iron Lord laughed as a tear in space opened, inviting the enemies away from this hell. Brood Lord gasped, reaching for his heart. His body spasmed when Alpha increased the strength of her fear wave. Iron Lord had to grab the falling khan, still laughing. “A high-value mark! Far more precious than all the others! Baited straight into a trap! Horkhudagh! Keep her busy until the Wrath eradicates everything! And if you could later finish off the others, I’ll grant you the richest lands in Houstad.”
"Keeping her busy?" The flaming man asked with a voice of cracking wood and hissing waters. His black holes keep surveying Alpha. "No. I have waited long enough. It’s a rare sight to see Iron Lord lose his composure so much. Did your power do it? It won’t work on me, you know." The living flame waited for some words or action from Alpha, but the warlord merely stood her ground. "Truth be told, ever since I heard of you, I have been itching from anticipation. Second strongest in the Horde! Second Strongest among Reclaimers! Whip versus Whip! Don’t you just burn from anticipation to find out who is the strongest between us?"
“Meh,” Alpha replied.
The two came at each other with full force.