A storm front of ruination swept toward the Reclaimers, and house after house collapsed, unable to withstand the stampede that rocked the very ground. Pebbles and steel chunks jumped up and down, waves ran in blood pools, and a yellow flash in the building ahead confirmed Janine’s suspicions. A trap was closing in on them. She elbowed an Ice Fang away, denting his gauntlet but saving the woman from having her head melted by a particle stream. Nearby, a defender threw up his shield, protecting Anissa from a similar fate.
“Kalaisa, Anissa, find a way inside and lead the survivors to the ventilation shaft. We’ll handle the situation outside.” She stopped their arguments, ordered the packs to split evenly to the north and south under the leadership of the scouts, and marched off to face the enemy alongside Bertruda and Martyshkina. A tap of her foot sent Impatient One off the front line to skulk behind a warlord.
And the buildings facing them exploded; the cinder blocks themselves, crushed by hide and steel, were reduced to dust, and out of them burst brightly ornamented forms: thunder bulls carrying riders entombed in the thickest armor, their plates shining purple, gold, green, and every other color imaginable.
At their head was a truly enormous figure, the gray-colored bastard who had murdered Eled. Where the plates of the other riders had smooth surfaces and curves, the leader’s was covered in dozens of black spots that covered his legs, elbows, and shoulders. His fingers gripped the handle of a long glaive, dragging the blade across the ground, where a shimmering gray field around its edge devoured the pavement. The lenses on his helmet focused on the Reclaimers, his armor more suited to a heavy assault tank than a battle, and the cannons on his shoulders stirred.
Martyshkina spun revolvers in her paws and fired, aiming at Iron Lord and a rider to his left. The bullet tore through the smaller rider’s helmet, exposing wires, bone, and brain matter, and the man shook in his seat but still tried to maintain the charge. The glaive swung up, erasing the bullet, and the khan snapped his fingers, sending the wounded back. His cannon gathered energy and fired, forcing Marty to dive to the side, dodging a blast capable of piercing even a warlord’s armor. A small sizzling orb struck a pile of rubble and expanded into a huge sphere, melting the entire thing.
“His movements…” Albert muttered.
Close range it was. Janine leaped ahead, creating a sonic boom that flapped the knights’ cloaks and trusting the scouts to lead the troops. Like a flying missile, she collided with Iron Lord, bringing her axe against the shaft of his weapon, and a thunderous bang rattled the remaining windows, briefly displacing all oxygen and creating a momentary vacuum. As the air flowed back in, she heard the whine of their servomotors and found herself in a deadlock. The man withstood the blow by holding his weapon with both hands, but as Janine’s snout closed for a bite, he let go of his weapon and pushed her head up, exposing the throat.
“Predictable.”
“Best things in life usually are, creep,” Janine growled, planting her feet firmly on the bull’s head. Not trying to win the strength contest, she simply grabbed his side, pulling the khan from his steed to the ground, and the deadly shot from his cannon flew into the sky.
Iron Lord rolled aside, blocked a kiss of Elegance with his glaive, and nimbly retreated from a swing of the Taleteller. Bertruda gracefully dodged a spear aimed at her head; the afterimage left in the wake of her perfect dash faded before the rider’s eyes. A lightning-hot slash severed the animal’s jugular, and it stumbled, disbelieving its own mortality. But its rider had already slipped from the dying steed, and two spears met in the air, weaving and striking past each other. Deep gouges and cuts covered the hordeman’s armor, while Bertruda’s own armor remained unblemished as she drove her opponent back.
Martyshkina straight up bit a coming axe, scowling at electrical discharges irritating her lips, but stopping the weapon dead as she fired into the bull’s knee, bringing it low enough to fire at the ironclad sitting on it. The man was thrown against his seat, letting go of his weapon and reaching for his rifle. The warlord batted the weapon aside and elbowed the enemy in the face, shattering his helmet.
In the chaos of the battle, Janine stepped behind Iron Lord as he aimed his shoulder cannon at Bertruda. She raised the axe for the blow, preparing to slice through the bastard’s neck while he was occupied.
“The position of his helmet lenses, the black spots… Sword Saint Janine, this isn’t a suit! He knows!” Albert yelled as blue flames spat from the rear of Iron Lord’s backpack, rapidly turning him around.
It was her ally’s warning and her own instincts that saved Janine’s life. Iron Lord pressed his glaive tightly to his chest to hide it from the warlord, and the scraping of the shaft against his bulk accompanied the impossibly swift stab that shaved off part of her greave. She dodged the fatal blow by a hair, wrecking one of his two cannons, and retreated a step, ready to face the khan head-on.
“His is piloting his armor, not wearing it,” Albert said.
“Or he is a machine,” Janine said. “Like that boy, Mehmed.”
“Hmm?” Iron Lord stopped in the middle of the fight, blocking a shardgun shot with a swing. “You’ve met him? How were his last moments? Was his performance in battle after the upgrade an adequate improvement?”
“Upgrade…” Janine whispered. “You. You are the one who did it to him. How could you violate your own flesh and blood so much?!”
“Father.” The rider who had fought Bertruda escaped their duel to let two other ironclads fire at the sword saint. The towering figure asked in a familiar female voice. “What is the mutant talking about?”
“It is nothing important, Zulfiya,” Iron Lord answered. “Your brother died, and I used his remains for one of my pet projects, trying to resurrect him and further my knowledge. It was in everyone’s best interest.”
“You used him, took away his ability to feel, drove him insane, and discarded him, you monster!” Janine reached for her back and aimed the laser rifle at Iron Lord. The beam splashed against a force field that appeared around the khan.
“The only monster here is you, cannibalistic filth.” Iron Lord’s figure charged forward, propelled by the force of his engines. Janine blocked his glaive with the Taleteller, heard the devouring field choke as it tried to damage the ancient alloy of her weapon, and then his fist crashed into her chin.
It was as if she had taken a siege artillery shell head-on. The blow broke one of her fangs, concussed her brain, and cracked the side of her visor. The damaged area swelled instantly, and the khan shoved Janine to the ground, with Albert trying to shout a warning as Iron Lord knelt and raised his glaive. She deflected the thrust with the Taleteller, and Janine forced herself to move after noticing the energy gathering in the remaining shoulder cannon.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
She headbutted him. Weakened as she was, it didn’t do much damage, but it moved her off the cannon’s trajectory, and the orb dug itself into the ground, ready to explode. Iron Lord’s force shield bubbled back up, trying to shake Janine off, but she clung to him like glue, and the khan activated his thrusters, escaping the danger zone of his own weapon.
Blinking through the pulsing agony of her trembling mind, Janine climbed behind the khan the moment he stopped and chopped at his back, ruining a set of thrusters, and punched the bastard in the jaw, denting his helmet a bit and forcing Iron Lord back.
“An interesting alloy,” he said in a mundane tone, oblivious to his predicament, blocking two incoming swings and holding his ground. “Tell me, if the Reclaimers can produce such weapons, why is your armor not up to par? Who among you has the knowledge to replicate the material of your axe? Answer me honestly, and I promise to treat your prisoners humanely and give you a clean death,” he chuckled. “The same as I gave that other mutant… Eled.”
“Not even going to offer me a chance to survive?” Janine grinned. “Afraid I will escape?”
“No, my wife wouldn’t understand. Not after what you did to her son.”
“His name is Mehmed!” Janine snapped, growing infuriated against her will. A family was one of the most important things in Wolfkin society. And this creature treated his offspring like an afterthought! “He was your son, too! Say his name!” The downward swing beat his boots deep into the ground.
“Why waste words on a broken tool?” Their weapons clashed, spewing dissipated pieces of the field around the khan’s weapons.
Devastation widened around them, brought by the colliding forces. The shardguns had a partial effect on the enemies; most of the armor-piercing projectiles stuck in the thickest plates or barely nicked them. The Ice Fangs fared little better, and the battle spilled to the outnumbered defenders and knights. Betrayers though they were, the Wolfkins never abandoned their allies, and the packs rushed into the fray to support their hard-pressed allies. Even trapped in the open and outnumbered, these hordemen proved to be incredibly tough opponents, trapping the Reclaimers.
The gyrating and stomping forms of the thunder bulls struck harder than a speeding truck full of ore; their simple treads occasionally broke limbs or brought death. Their riders unleashed their own energy weapons, melting the state’s alloys and immolating the soldiers inside, forcing the soldiers to retreat from the academy’s exposed main entrance or risk endangering the APCs carrying civilians. Two knights, smoke billowing from their bodies, collapsed to the ground dead, followed by seven Wolfkins, and the invaders lost two soldiers. Kalaisa and Anissa glanced down against their will and resumed climbing to the rooftop of the complex.
Relying on training and decades of experience to fend off Iron Lord, not even concentrating on him, Janine turned her attention to the battlefield and closed her helmet briefly. Albert relayed her instructions for the Wolfkins to aim for the animals’ eyes and for the Ice Fangs to break up the fight and use their own cannons to concentrate on the wounded steel-clads. The Wolfkins were to create gaps for the Ice Fangs to destroy the meat within.
The glaive slashed, and the warlord nonchalantly slashed upward with his axe, sending the incoming blade flying. Iron Lord calmly adjusted his grip and stabbed three times with the lower end of his weapon, denting Janine’s shoulder and chest armor into her body, before firing his cannon. As she stepped away from the deadly orb, he launched a horizontal swing to decapitate her.
“Die, ghoul!” Elegance’s tip lanced near Janine’s helmet, striking the haft of the glaive and stopping the blow. In a moment’s notice, Bertruda and Janine fought side by side, assaulting the khan while Impatient One replaced the sword saint and kept the hordemen from helping their leader.
“Ghoul?” Iron Lord’s dynamics betrayed not a hint of panic as he retreated, trying to keep them at range. “You find my methods inhumane, not out of disgust, but out of fear. Born a Pureblood, a being superior to humans, you are naturally dreading the possibility of a genius mind capable of overturning your world and raising the common folk to your level, girl…”
“I view you as scum regardless of your sick inventions!” Bertruda said her plasma casters fired, and the orb fired by the khan exploded. Janine thought that she’d seen the woman she thought to be a sister once again as they both darted to the left and right, circling around the growing sphere of death and flame that danced on the Ice Fang’s cape. “How dare you threaten children?!”
“Woe to the conquered,” Iron Lord parried, stepping back heavily. “I must admit the inadequacy of my knowledge. I thought that after the Ice Fangs’ callous disregard for cooperation, no Wolfkin would ever fight by their side. Yet here you are, unafraid that one might sacrifice another…”
“Because you are worse!” Elegance and the Taleteller joined together in a unified attack. The blade of the spear, surrounded by a searing hot aura, slashed at the destructive field of the glaive to the khan’s left, and the axe sunk deep into his forearm from the right, trapping the man.
“Wrong. I am better,” he answered without a hint of pain.
Metal legs left the ground as Iron Lord spun in the air, carried by his remaining engines. He kicked Bertruda away and brought the glaive down on Janine, forcing the warlord to block or be cut in half. The ground cracked around her legs, and the khan’s steed crashed into the sword saint, sending her flying. Janine slammed a shoulder into his knee, stopping the man’s attack, and pushed hard, bringing him back to the road.
“Warlord!” Albert said, distracting her from the battle.
She was about to order him to shut up when the remaining part of her visor changed, showing the retreating APC. Marco. He dropped from underneath the vehicle’s belly and ran on all fours towards the Academy.
“Marco!” Janine screamed. “Get inside the transport!”
How was he here? Betrayal, obviously; the traitors had set the Wolf Tribe up again. But how exactly did Marco get here? The exosuit… Nonsense! A healthy female could have clung to the bottom of the transport long enough to weather every bump in the road, but her boy wasn’t that strong! He should have fallen off long before they reached Opul! Marco was supposed to be safe.
Her son. Marco was in danger. The thought stopped her long enough, but Iron Lord didn’t stop her, shifting his bulk towards the entrance, perhaps puzzled by her strange behavior.
“I’ll help!” The boy shouted, climbing to the airway. “It’s going to be okay, Warlord! I’ll lead everyone to safety; trust me.”
Light appeared in the khan’s cannon as it tracked the new target, and Janine lunged, ending up in a stalemate against his weapon and trying to push the giant aside.
“Marco! It is not safe; get back!” she shouted, straining her body to the limit and hearing the whine of the yielding motors of her opponent’s armor. Slow, not fast enough…
“Khan! Why are you targeting the flea?!” Zulfiya shouted, peeking from behind a thunder bull and firing a shot at the Wolfkins, melting Kirk’s pauldron. He gritted his fangs and rolled to the cover, supported by the fire of his family.
“I…” Iron Lord’s helmet shook, and the cannon stopped aiming at Marco. “Right you are, Zulfiya! Surprising and irritating. Ignore the gnat; he’ll die to the degenerates inside, anyway. We don’t care for children.” He heaved against the glaive, intensifying the pressure, and sparks jumped from the cut in his arm. “It’s the adults that matter.”
“Even, bitch.” Janine heard Zulfiya’s hiss. “I’ll make you pay tenfold for what you did to Mehmed and my humiliation!”
The danger inside… Terrific manifested into reality again, sitting on Iron Lord’s shoulders and clawing at his helmet. The dull eyes scowled at Janine, insulted by her choice of armor. Her withered lips curled, and her throat forced out a single word in a barely audible whisper.
“Restraint…”
Correct. Janine gritted her fangs, accepting Marco’s shoulder camera into the pack view and witnessing the darkness of the corridor unfold before him as the boy climbed in. Restraint. It was impossible to change what had happened, and her duty demanded her full attention here to preserve the troops and end the danger.
“I can guide the boy,” Albert offered.
“Do… don’t,” Janine said wearily. “You are an Ice Fang. And they don’t care about our young.”
I trusted them with one of my most precious…
“Lady, I’ll never…”
Terrific stirred and stood up as the time resumed back to normal, her lips flapping as she tried to say something as fear swept over the battlefield, shaking both fighters. Even Bertruda missed a step, and the thunder bull rammed her into the building with its ugly head.
“Ah…” Iron Lord said, and his shoulder cannon moved, pointing at Janine’s face. “The reports were inaccurate. Die.”