Janine stomped. A ripple passed through the damaged concrete as if it were water; the impact shook the closest wreckages and drew groans from the wounded. The clowns merely leaped a little back, filling the air with their melodic laughter at what they perceived to be a futile attempt to stagger. But Janine never sought to achieve that. Her paw slapped a head-sized rock, spat into the ground by her stomp, into Heika’s face, and the warlord closed in on Adonis, hidden by a veil of dust.

Wide, precise arcs of blurry, fast-moving daggers rose in her path. Adonis never once dropped his guard, and he planned on cutting her arms and neck. But claws met the edge of his blades as the clatter of metal against stone behind Janine announced that Heika had blocked the projectile. It was fine; Janine ignored it for a time and bore down her entire fury at Adonis, hewing and slashing, trying to bypass his defense and drive him away.

She could see it clearly now. A green sludge, almost invisible to a naked eye, coated the entire length of her enemy’s blade. An unknown substance that easily overcame even a Wolfkin’s immune system and brought Anji to her knees. Janine went back and forth with the killer, equally growing annoyed at the man’s resilience and taking his measure. Anger wasn’t a problem. When wasn’t she angry? Her biological mother had abandoned her; Janine hated herself for letting Terrific get away with so many atrocities; she despised her paw for ending the life of the one she had come to call her mother. Every mistake, every display of weakness fueled the fire burning in her chest, never allowing it to become dying embers.

But embracing that furnace invited dangers, as Eled clearly demonstrated times and times again. To protect her family, her nation, Janine had chained that anger, channeling its energy to sustain her endurance and denying herself the rest to keep a cool head in battle. It didn’t always work, but today it saved her hide when Janine sensed Heika approaching from the rear and relaxed. Adonis refused to stand and fight, wisely dancing out of her reach so the clowns could perform a classic pincer maneuver.

And something else, a tactic that had eluded her for so far, but the previous actions had told enough. Fine then. Slow way it is. A growl left her lips, commanding to tend to the wounded and prepare for an ambush. Kalaisa relayed the message to the Ice Fangs while Martyshkina paused on the roof, her eyes fixed on the tense Bogdan. A dagger flew at her back and Janine blocked it, trusting her instincts and ears more than her skills. Her oversized and long arms easily reached the middle of her back. Her speed was superior to that of her opponent. They knew it too.

So where was the trap?

Heika and Adonis grew frustrated that their baits and deceptions no longer worked. Janine held her ground, concentrating on the defense. Adonis stabbed at her, and she counterattacked, stopping her thrust when his impeccable footwork carried him out of harm’s way. The warlord elbowed the clown, no doubt bruising him, but refused to give chase, blocking Heika’s cuts. Again and again, the two tried to lure her in by exposing themselves, and she disappointed them each time.

No longer they attacked her alone; the two teamed up and multicolored lines raced past her, from left and right, from back and front, stabbing and slashing, and inevitably retreating when a claw met a blade. Janine knew their type: youngsters gifted with incredible potential, their blood running hot in their veins. These clowns wanted to turn the battle into a spectacle, to take the leading role and end it on their terms, winning through coordination and cooperation where their individual skills could not prevail.

Only Janine stood her ground. Immovable. Indomitable. By denying them satisfaction and thrill, she made the battle dull and repetitive. Their speed failed to overcome her defenses, and when Janine saw the frustration in the slits of their masks, she allowed herself a smile, fanning the desire in their souls to end her soon.

Perhaps there was no trap? Janine disregarded the doubt. For better or worse, she had chosen the approach.

There were many ways to win a battle. Throwing your foe off their game, ruining their rhythm, and letting their frustration lead them into making mistakes was one of the most basic ones. Anything from simple insults to attacking the enemy‘s allies was beneficial to this. Kalaisa and Anji lost because they played the clowns’ game and forgot who the hunter was. It mattered not how long the hunt lasted, as long as you brought home the body. Oh well, it’ll come to them with experience; don’t be harsh on them, Janine. She chastised herself, remembering her own failures.

Kalaisa stepped away from Anji, and Janine eased a bit. Rather than rushing back into a fight, the wolf hag decided to help the Ice Fangs save lives and was currently performing CPR on a civilian. I didn’t even know she could do it. The girl was learning from her past mistakes, and that widened Janine’s smile even more, finally cracking the clowns’ composure.

They came together as before; the male aiming for Janine’s legs and the female aiming for her spine. Their daggers were met by the claws, and ringing sounds filled the street. Only this time, the fools chose not to retreat. Heika jumped over Janine, and Adonis tried to slide underneath her swing on his knees. He was met with a knee to the face and an elbow against the back of his neck. Janine whirled, slicing Heika’s shoulder, and the clown screamed, ruining the laughing melody.

“Beautiful enough?” Janine asked, tensing up when she realized that Adonis’ body wasn’t at her leg.

She landed the blow with her entire might. The man’s mask partially shattered upon the ground, yet he himself was already beside Heika with his head tilted and anger splashing in his blue eyes. There was a cracking noise, and the clown set his head straight. He separated his vertebrae to spare the bone. Janine understood. She knew of methods to go limb to limb to disperse damage, even to dislocate joints, though such a master was beyond her. But vertebrae? That was too dangerous.

The man stood, legs shaking, left hand pressed to the ruined face, his nose caved in. “Sister.”

“Brother,” Heika responded.

“We are being underestimated.”

“Humiliated.”

“Bogdan!” Janine and Martyshkina yelled in unison, hearing din in the air.

There was a line above the soldier. It floated in the air, created by nothing, but Martyshkina tossed the sharp rocks at it simultaneously with Bogdan rolling to the side. It was what had saved him when the line widened up, creating a blue window. This tear swallowed the stones, and an arm scooped at the place where the soldier had been a second ago. Bogdan was already firing back, but another window opened and swallowed the bullets. Martyshkina cursed, sidestepping a hole in reality that opened behind her, spitting out Bogdan’s bullets, and a thin arm coming from a new portal grabbed Bogdan’s neck and pressed him tightly against a blue body while a finger ran over his gun, cutting it in half.

“Move an inch and the dog gets skinned,” the newcomer chuckled, coming fully from the shimmering blue portal, keeping it at as his back to shield himself for a sudden attack.

Thin as a scarecrow, his ribs threatened to break through the paper-thin blue leather skin. His eyes were sunk deep into the skull, the nose sucked in air loudly, and the mouth grinned, showing needle teeth. The tear at his back showed sewers and several corpses of the Ice Fangs. Gunshots, roars, and curses echoed from the walls of the tunnel.

“I don’t recall asking for help, Phaser.” Heika hissed. “You’ve been hiding the entire time, and now you decide to step out?”

“Recklessness can only purchase you an early grave, silly girl,” the blue-skinned man, Phaser, said in a voice that needled Janine’s ears. “The deed is done, but we might as well add another to the tally.” He smiled, standing naked, covered just by black tattoos in the shapes of flying birds that covered his arms, legs, and waist. “Yes, imagine the reward Mad Hatter will give us when we bring a warlord’s head to her knees! You!” he told Janine. “Stay and die. Otherwise, this thing.” He shook Bogdan and extended his arm to Marco, “and the puppies will die.”

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“Stay away from the children,” Adonis ordered icily. “The adults are fair game for us.”

“But killing kids is too low,” his sister added.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare to trouble you,” Phaser chuckled again. “I’ll be more than willing…”

Janine gave a deep growl, approving a cheeky glint in her son’s eyes. Marco tensed too, ready to dart away, and only stopped out of concern for his comrades. The Ice Fangs didn’t know. Jacomie didn’t know either when she tried to stand and fell face down from exhaustion. They had to stay away. On the other side of the street, Malerata pulled a string of wires from the place where her steel legs were connected to her torso and tossed away her damaged foot, looking decisively at Bogdan.

Don’t do anything reckless, girl. Janine pleaded. Nothing was over.

“Touch a child and you’ll die,” Heika promised, surprising Janine. What were they talking about? A body of an Ice Fang cub lay on the ground; there were little ones scattered around, dead or wounded, and these creeps tried to pretend to have principles now?

“How dare you talk to me like that?” Phaser took his eyes off Janine. “You weren’t so eager to say anything to Brood Lord!”

“Unlike you, the khan we can’t stop,” Adonis said.

“You seem to forget who is your way out of this place,” Phaser struggled to speak calmly. “And speaking of Brood Lord, guess who is under his protection? Unlike you, unlike his whelps, unlike anyone, I am too valuable to lose!”

“Can he protect you all day long?” Heika inquired. “What will the khan say after he hears how casually you address him, mhhhm? Or what about giving gifts to the Khatun? Nasty, nasty Phaser. Your plans are obvious to anyone with a half of a brain.”

“Do it,” Adonis asked. “Leave us. Cross the line if you dare, Phaser. See how long you’ll live afterwards.”

Whatever response Phaser had planned to give died in his desperate screams when Bogdan grabbed his hand. He didn’t use his claw, or a hidden knife. Two black round disks were attached to the palms of his hands, each capable of releasing a surge of electricity strong enough to knock out even a scout.

Bogdan had always been a troubled boy. He was biting Janine during feeding too hard; he was the first of his litter to stand on his feet, to her and Colt’s delight; and he was the first to almost kill another Wolfkin. Not in the pits. A girl was relentlessly throwing Bogdan and Ignacy to the ground, trying to get the males’ attention, not yet fully understanding that she was doing it the wrong way because of her youth. Well, she got her wish for attention when Janine returned to her tent after a day of service to find her grenades and explosives missing. All forty of them, and the answer as to where they went, came in a series of booms at the village’s edge.

Her son had challenged a girl to a duel and had no intention of fighting fairly. He forced the terrified cub through a line full of acid and fire, burying her under an avalanche of stone, and then found her under the rubble and dragged her to the surface by her ears, allowing her to breathe but still trapping her arms and legs. He repeatedly smashed her face repeatedly with a rock, asking what more he needed to do for her to get the message and leave him and Ignacy’s brother alone.

Janine and Soulless One stopped what was about to end in murder. They concealed the information from the tribe at large, sharing it only with the warlords and shamans, for it was unthinkable that a male could defeat a female. Elsewhere, Bogdan would face punishment. The laws of the Reclamation Army were strict, but the Wolf Tribe was given the privilege of living by their own laws, and Lacerated One herself absolved the boy of all guilt and redirected the boy’s mischief in a productive direction. The wounded girl later apologized and held no grudge for the defeat.

The girl herself told her friends about how awesome a tricker Bogdan was, and soon there was a cave named ‘Bogdan’s Great Den’ in the village, a training ground of sorts created by her son. In the darkness of this place, her boy put his natural reluctance to be bullied to work, constructing the most exquisite traps he could fathom for the girls and boys to overcome. Ignacy helped, but his duty was limited to making sure no one died in this hellish maze of acid grenades, swinging stones, pitfalls and collapses. It was a badge of honor for the youth to overcome these insidious traps.

But as he grew older and found a soulmate, Bogdan faced a natural barrier. Warriors he could stop, but what about scouts and wolf hags? His cave of wonders still existed, although he was now far more careful not to harm any cubs. Anissa made a mockery of his test, passing it at a walking pace, and later Elzada raced through the course without getting hit once. This caused Bogdan to sit and read, studying the workings of Wolfkins’ bodies. He dismissed the use of gas, as it cost an arm and a leg to get a canister of nerve gas for private use, and many scouts showed incredible resilience to toxic effects, but electricity intrigued him. He added grids to the parts of his cave, and Janine took pride in her role as the first ‘test subject’ when her sweet boy’s contraptions tickled her a little. Later, the shamans even copied it to other villages, so that the cubs and adults everywhere could hone their skills.

This was what Bogdan used. It was his trump card, a device looking so non-threatening that when his charm and trickery failed to pit one female against another, he would offer to shake his paws or desperately grab his opponent, shocking her just long enough to press a pistol to her eye or a claw to a jugular vein. It had a lesser effect on wolf hags, but Phaser yelled and writhed as the electricity shook his internal organs.

Janine was distracted by this event, and it almost cost her her life. With the stone exploding beneath their legs, Heika and Adonis disappeared out of sight, turning into a whirlwind around the warlord. Left, right, a strike aimed at her right knee, immediately followed by one aimed at the back of her left knee. This time, Janine had to move, walking back across the street, blocking strikes from the maddening whirlwind of steel and rage. Their speed, the accuracy with which these two were striking, and their sheer endurance to maintain this assault without slowing down were sublime.

This was a dance and one in which they took the lead. Their blurred forms almost overlapped; the non-stop onslaught of constant dashes, cuts, strikes, and graceful evasions was mind-blowing. Even in her power armor, Janine would be mildly challenged to keep up with this speed. Without it, worried about the safety of her sons, plagued by thoughts of the dead and dying around her, she had known fear.

She channeled her fear into power, releasing adrenaline into her bloodstream. There were many in the tribe who viewed fear as something to be shunned, an unworthy behavior. Not her. Fear was a natural human emotion—it was honest, if nothing else. She was outmatched, but she had to win. Accepting fear sharpened Janine’s senses. By relying on her skills, honed by years and years of combat, she knew when to defend and when to push back. And now it was time to defend.

Even though Bogdan’s devices had an energy supply, they gave him enough time to free himself and dart away, trying to save himself from Phaser’s long fingered stab. But it was of no use. The difference in speed between the two was too great, and the stab that was destroying the very space neared Janine’s son, and Marco cried out his desperate warning. That’s when Malerata took flight.

The absurdity of it shocked the clowns and the warlord, halting their struggle for a whole second. Malerata Summerspring blazed raging flames and sparks from her damaged legs, somehow turning herself into a living rocket, overloading the internal reactor supplying her artificial limbs. Carrying a round shield in her paws, the knight crossed the street in the blink of an eye, spinning in midair to douse Phaser in the searing fury emanating from her stump.

Phaser stopped his stab and swung his hand, opening the portal to block the flame. He moved his other arm, and another rift cracked and opened above Malerata, engulfing the Ice Fang in her own flame. But the smirk on the Horde’s teleporter didn’t last. Malerata, hidden inside the flames, cast her shield at Phaser’s ankles, and the man tumbled into his own portal, disappearing inside.

“Reckless like us,” Bogdan cheered, pulling Malerata away to hide behind the car as the portals disappeared and the woman landed heavily on the ground, unable to move her legs. The sparks and fiery stream coming from her ankle stopped. Once she was safe, Bogdan blew on his paws.

“But not useless.” Malerata said. Her armor blackened but held. The woman was shaking from the burns from several holes in her combat plate, but her voice was clear and as cheerful as Bogdan’s. “She was right. I am not cursed at all!”

“Thank you for saving our hides! You’re the best, cousin!” Bogdan humorously glanced at her. “But just to be clear. I have already found my soulmate. So if you had any ideas…”

“I would never have dared to hint, sirrah,” the knight mumbled and leaned against the car, gathering her strength to help Marco.

Time to win this. Janine beamed, unbothered by her worries any longer, and stomped again. Caught by a tremor during their fierce assault, both clowns tripped, their overlapped shared blurry form separated in two, and the warlord clawed at Heika’s mask, fully intending to shave the woman’s head off this time, when a loud crack to her left announced the arrival of the new enemy. Janine’s claws, her pride and joy, left her left paw and drummed against the ground, leaving just stumps on her fingers.

“Enough toying around,” Phaser roared, stepping out of a portal. “Warlord dies!”