"It's over," Aranea told herself. Nothing could've survived this hell. She won.

The edges of her armor sank deeply into her wounds, and the raging heat glued them and flesh together. It was of no bother; a few more scars mattered little. The bleeding had stopped, cauterized by the flame that licked her body, and the internal systems of her suit had saved her life, while the organism itself pumped out adrenaline to keep her conscious.

All in all, not the worst outcome. A pile of molten rubble to her left cracked, and another mechanical soldier rose from the ashes. His left hand was severed, the human eye was scorched. His remaining mechanical limb twitched, producing a single jolt of electricity running up the blades.

"Surrender?" Aranea offered, and the thing limped on. "Let's dance the pain away, then," she mumbled, gathering strength for a strike. Damn it, she was weak. No chance but to take on the first swipe. She should be able to survive it and cut at the neck.

She was still weighing her options when a Wolfkin cannonballed onto the cyborg. Legs pierced its shoulders, the weight drew spurts of oil and blood, and clenched fists smeared the robotic head. The scout blinked, wondering if she was hallucinating.

"Hey, how're ya doing?" The cheerful voice of Olesya sliced through delirium. She stepped closer, catching Aranea before she could collapse from exhaustion. "Girl, you look like shit, lemme tell ya that!" The scout blinked again. Yes, it was definitely her friend, even bigger than before. "Now relax and let me and my pack take care of the rest. We will show you how it's done," Olesya teased, holding Aranea with one arm.

"You always excelled at the janitor's job," she teased back, grinning. "Planning a career change?"

"Don't worry. I won't steal your honorable role of an undercooked barbecue roll."

Stop. Aranea's fingers spasmed. Why doesn't my power tempt me with a reward? Didn't I win?

"Retreat!"

The ground quaked. Once. A ripple of fissures passed through the rock, breaking it. Another tremor rolled the two, and the giant of metal broke to the surface, slamming his fists with the force of a rocket. His frame blackened by the eruption, Allahkoliken no longer had his cameras, but he climbed out without any problems and tossed the truck's wreckage aside, turning his cracked humanoid head to the Wolfkins.

"You ruined my paint, flesh bag," he said, adding a maniacal cackle wrapped in static.

"On the other paw, the teachings state that thou wilt share with thy fellow kin regardless of gender in the trying periods," Olesya's voice cracked, paw closing around a shardgun.

"No, no, he is all yours. I insist," joked Aranea, gulping. That blasted machine seemed to be impervious to anything she had.

"Don't argue. I am fully equipped to accommodate everyone." Shots landed upon his shell, and acid clouds engulfed the giant. He passed through them unharmed. "Well, Reclaimers! You came thinking us barbarians and found the brilliant artisans of the future!"

"Brilliant? Try murderous. Traitorous," Aranea said. "Technology doesn't make a man. It's how we act that defines us. Your gang harmed civilians and raided a caravan, killing without mercy. No different from the lowliest pillaging gang. Even barbarians have more honor, more foresight. At least they don't destroy villages that feed them!"

"And don't kill cubs, you sick zombie!" Olesya said.

The Wolfkins of Siri's pack surrounded the machine, firing their shardguns point-blank. Without turning, Allahkoliken's massive shoulders shrugged, opening up to let the long metal ropes whip out from the compartments within. They wrapped around the trapped soldiers, eliciting screams of pain as the restraints tore through their armor and bit deep into the hides. Siri and Sonya flashed their claws, liberating two trapped troops by hacking through the thick ropes, while the Wolfkins scratched at and fired weapons into the tendrils to no avail.

"Drop me and run. He wants me," Aranea whispered, shuddering under the emotionless gaze of the crimson optics.

"Hogging all the attention yourself. Typical."

"I am serious, Oles! Look after my pack if you can. Sly needs an occasional bonk to the ear to remind him about food, and Kate's bile needs periodical venting. She is bound to loosen up one day…"

"Eh, too much work. Let's escape together, and you handle it," Olesya whispered back, tossing a grenade at the foe.

"This thing has lasers."

"Oh, then we are dead anyway," Olesya said, drooling. Aranea could not recall her ever being this terrified.

Not that she could fault her. She herself was quaking in her boots.

"I've had enough of your impudence," said Allahkoliken. "Scream incoherently as you perish without a trace, wretches." The machine was upon them, and his arm reached out, glowing red.

The wheezing and groaning of the trapped Wolfkins ceased as four shots bisected the wires, sending waves of wind propelling across the battlefield hard enough that even Aranea felt them in her wounds. The monolith of steel startled, trying to turn as two forms landed around him. Warlord Martyshkina, a large, bareheaded Wolfkin whose pauldrons held an actual long fur coat—a true rarity in the Ravaged Lands—reloaded her custom-crafted revolvers without haste. Not bothering to turn, she pointed one of her guns at a rock formation on the side of the boiled road and fired. The shot obliterated the formation, turned two greenies lying in ambush behind it into a mess of disemboweled arms and legs, and opened a fresh cave.

Janine's axe swatted aside the burst of flame aimed at Aranea and Olesya. Though her legs appeared comically short for her sizeable body, the warlord blurred, spinning around and leveling the flamecaster. The rings on it turned, positioning two rubies above the barrel and one below it. A stream of white-hot flame doused the two remaining cyborg troops as they tried to hit the Wolfkins in the back with their laser weaponry. Their metal parts turned into streaming clay as their flesh and bone darkened, evaporating away in a cloud of ash.

"The laser guns!" Sly howled from the cliffs, and Yuki's loud slap at his helmet cut through the noise of Allahkoliken's engines. "Oh, right. Stay safe, everyone!"

"More playthings," Allahkoliken laughed. "Who plans to be first? Or will you attack together? Like a swarm of drones biting my feet, while larger insectoids try stabbing me. A word of warning: my legs squashed finer beasts."

Olesya slung Aranea over her shoulders and darted to safety. On the other side of the field, Siri repeated the same with Sonya, while her troops evacuated the wounded. More members of the warlords' packs arrived, staying at the upper part of the canyon, their red lenses shining in the dark.

"Ah, I see. A noble and futile sacrifice, for I'll tear through you and reach…"

"He's boring me. Shall I kill him?" Martyshkina yawned. She spun a revolver, deflecting a bullet fired by the irritated plunderer. Then she tossed one weapon in the air, reloaded the first gun, caught the second, and repeated the process.

"What was it that you told my kin before?" Janine advanced, never raising her voice.

"A melee, then?" Allahkoliken's laughter broke into a cackle.

Crimson rays grazed the warlord, splashing upon the plates. Janine didn't even bother to defend herself. The machine raised his hand, unleashing a stream of white flame. One axe swing cleared the space for her, sending the flames aside with the sheer wind pressure. Janine placed the axe on her shoulder, edge facing the sky, never hurrying or slowing her pace. Allahkoliken's hands reached the back of his head, and his spine flew up from his torso, revealing itself to be an oversized sharpened sword. The hands caught the handle.

"I enjoy a proper melee," Allahkoliken said. "Thrill me if you can, fleshie."

"Scream incoherently as you perish without a trace, wretches. Were these the words uttered by you to my troops?" asked Janine, ignoring his boasts. Her voice was calm and devoid of threat, accompanied by a metallic click with every sentence.

With the roar of the thrusters, the steel behemoth charged like a rocket, slashing overhead. The sword almost touched Janine's forehead when she acted. Only once before had Aranea seen such speed. When Mom faced the sword saints. Then, she couldn't make out the clear picture, but today, she witnessed the scene in full. Janine lacked grace and fluidity, but she compensated with overwhelming physical might fueled by controlled, unrestrained rage. The Wolf Tribe never shied experiencing hatred and rage, embracing every facet of their being and teaching the young cubs how to control and manifest it to reach their full potential.

Normies and Wolfkins alike spoke legends of how the warlord once cleaved through the enormous gates of a walled city. According to the tales, the gates were as wide as a battle tank and durable enough to withstand anti-bunker missiles. Yet when Janine brought her axe to bear, they shuddered and toppled, destroyed in a single blow. Janine no longer had one of her paws, and many decades had passed since that occasion. Even her deeds during the defense of the Core Lands and her defeat of Brood Lord had been more recent, and it had been almost a hundred years since then. Nonetheless, rejuvenation technology kept the woman in the prime of her youth.

She struck, forcing the air to scream and fissures to open on the smoothed sides of the canyon. The shockwave slapped Aranea across the helmet, and the tip of the sword flew away. Allahkoliken's right shoulder cracked under the immense pressure as the axe carved a path through it. The shortened sword missed the warlord, crashing into the ground. The cyborg tore it free, aiming between Janine's legs, and another slice severed his left hand.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Way to go, Warlord!" Kaleb howled.

"Draw it out, don't end it right away, please, Ma'am!" Sly chimed in. "The researchers would love the recording!"

"Make him suffer!" Kate cheered.

"Don't ruin him whole; leave a piece to be sold!" Yuki asked.

"Shut your traps! Act your rank!" Sonya said. "Sly, tend to the injured! The Normies take priority!"

"Already doing it, Wolf Hag!"

"You dare be distracted during it?!"

"How… What in coldness are you?!" Allahkoliken reeled, unleashing laser beams from his oculars and bullets from his lower jaw at the warlord. A single slash of the axe beheaded him, and sparks hissed from the resulting stump.

"Let's see you do the same," Janine said, ignoring the question.

"Don't get cocky, you overgrown, flea-ridden beast! Never, ever, will flesh be equal to steel!" Allahkoliken jumped over the stepped-aside Martyshkina, his barreled chest opening to expose a cannon inside. The spikes on his legs stabbed into the road, going all the way down, while the cannon's barrel extended.

"He is…" Olesya yelped, horrified. "S-soulless! A ghoul!"

Aranea distracted herself from the weapon and looked deeper, noticing a cistern nestled in a recess covered with wires. Inside the reinforced glass, a human brain floated in weird yellow juice. Needles studded the brain matter, with no spinal column or eyes visible. The folk tales spoke true. There were certain people in the Ravaged Lands who knew long-lost knowledge and desired to abandon biological existence.

"One blast. Not a single bone will be left for your puppies to gnaw on. Let me hear your prayers!" Allahkoliken cackled. Electricity danced on the cannon's barrel.

Janine raised the flamecaster. The metal circles arranged themselves so that the three rubies ended up above the weapon, and the cybernetic monolith twitched, with alarms buzzing inside its chest cavity, coloring the brain green.

"These readings... If you release it at once… Stop it, idiot! Ignorant fiend! Do you have the slightest idea what King will do to you for it?! Don't you dare!" Allahkoliken yelled.

For a fraction of a second a newborn sun welled in Janine's lost paw, turning the night into a day. A ball of white flame, spewing red and violet rays, left the flamecaster, growing in size and striking the multicolored laser beam fired by the cyborg. Sparks sizzled, landing on everything, as the plasma orb pushed the beam back. Occasional deflected beams cut long gashes in the rock, and Allahkoliken screamed in horror, his generator losing the struggle and the heat nearing him. The scream stopped in an instant as the ball consumed him, vaporizing the cyborg into steam and opening a new cave stretching half a kilometer into the canyon's side. The tunnel soon collapsed, sending the Wolfkins above it to scatter.

Janine's rubies turned dark as the flamecaster began recharging. She held it at a distance from her waist and turned to Martyshkina, who holstered her revolvers too fast for Aranea to spot.

"All done, it seems. Exemplary performance." Janine motioned, stopping the injured Sonya from kneeling. The joint packs climbed from the cliffs, carrying the prisoners and the caravanners. "Count the losses, alert Command, collect…"

"How long are you planning to hide!" Martyshkina roared, thrusting her snout up. A startled surprise appeared on Janine's face.

Aranea heard clapping. A figure stood on the emptied cliffs, wearing a simple leather coat of a sandy color, oversized pants fastened by a rope, a rich and pristine white shirt, and black boots. The stranger didn't have any anti-heat gear, but not a single drop of sweat touched his wrinkled skin. His receding gray hair was loose, and he looked like a typical Normie, no smaller or bigger than most. His most distinctive feature was that the whites of his eyes were dark green while his pupils were black.

"Most excellent!" said the old man. "Few can notice me when I don't desire it."

"Too bad. Only friends can sneak up on me, buddy," Martyshkina said, cracking her neck. "Judging by the fact that you were sneaking around and how you just happened to appear beside the Resistance scum, I dare to make a guess that you are one of them. Ready to give up, or should we shorten you on a head?"

"Your guesses are both correct and incorrect." The man smiled. "I am a member of the Resistance, true, but these attackers here are most definitely not from our ranks."

"Bullshit," Janine said. "What, have they just stumbled upon a weapons cache? Who do they work for, then?" She nodded at the unconscious prisoners.

"Not the faintest clue," the stranger said. "But I was sent to eliminate those who operated under our banner, besmirching our cause with lies. Thank you for making my job easier. Truly, there's a potential for cooperation between our nations. Now, if you would be so kind as to step aside so I could complete my task…"

He stopped talking as Janine and Martyshkina disappeared, exploding the road with the force of their jumps. They landed to his left and right, flanking the man.

"Friend, I think you misunderstand." Martyshkina returned the smile. "We insist on your visit to our camp to help clear things up. Our leaders have so many questions about the situation."

"Ah-ah. To my utmost regret, I must decline your generous offer." The man turned to her. "See, this road below is a neutral ground. No one really cares what happens there."

"We care," Janine said.

"Sure, let me rephrase that. No one has the legal authority to enforce our laws there. But these cliffs right here are the Resistance territory. Touch me and…" He placed his hands in his pockets. "…and bye-bye to any peaceful resolution of the current kerfuffle. We wouldn't want to add such a stain to your owner's honor, would we? He might tighten up the leash." Martyshkina kept smiling, and the man sighed.

Janine sniffed him. "You reek of the green creatures my troops had killed."

"Evidently, I am not one of them. Probably eradicated them recently. Anyway, I am a professional, so…"

Something shot through his pockets, tearing through the leather. White objects struck the unconscious prisoners with perfect precision, landing at their temples and hearts, killing both cyborgs and Normies. Several objects ricocheted off the troops' armor and the wreckage, hitting their targets. Eleven people died in the barrage unleashed by the weird man, and Kostya pulled one projectile from a limp body. It was a phalanx bone, glittering white despite the red and brain matter covering it.

Bones? Did he ruin his fingers, or is he carrying those around? Wait, why didn't they break against the plates? Aranea wondered.

"Much better. It is prudent to finish…" The old man paused as Martyshkina aimed her gun at his head, smiling no longer. He raised his intact hands to head level; his pupils moved to the sides, watching both women. "Come on, no need to sweat over the small stuff. I'll pay for any notches."

Janine slammed the axe's butt into the cliff, sending them tumbling down together upon a sizable boulder.

"Damn shame that we're now on the neutral ground, eh, mate?" Martyshkina said.

"Actually, I am glad," the old man said. "It is wise to learn at any age. And to dish out lessons to others."

The axe came down on the man, but he slipped from under the blow in a blur, reappearing atop the axe as its blade cut into the boulder. Martyshkina fired, and the man's hand backhanded the bullet right back at her pauldron, cracking it and marking her hide. The man's left palm stabbed into Janine's belly, turning the hand into a crescent motion as his arm sent a bulge coming from his shoulder to the wrist. Aranea was unsure what had happened, but the warlord flew backward with a handprint on her armor and drops of blood falling from the curled lips. A swipe of a leg forced Martyshkina to give distance. The stranger used this brief respite to leap off the fallen boulder back to the cliffs.

"I itched to 'taste' you, so to speak." His legs touched the ruined cliff without dislodging a single pebble. "Pardon the rude provocation, but I just had to know what the warlords are made of. I must confess that…" Suddenly, blood gushed from his wrist, from the same spot he had used to redirect the bullet. Part of his shirt and coat sleeve slipped down, revealing a long, crimson line from his shoulder to his nipple, to the old man's surprise.

"So what's the verdict? Were we adequate teachers, or what?" Martyshkina said, touching her wound with her fingers and licking the blood.

"Just be glad that I wasn't paid to snuff you out tonight." No longer smiling, the old man looked at them. "Or there'd be more than one corpse on the road. Enough pleasantries. I bid you farewell." He walked away from the edge.

"Phew. Quite the customer," Martyshkina chuckled. It's nice to know that the Resistance has worthwhile individuals. It would be a shame if something happened to him. Nights are dangerous…"

"No," Janine said. "The Resistance may be innocent of what transpired."

"You don't believe it."

"It doesn't matter what I believe. No aggression without concrete proof. Check the bodies. If any are still alive, rescue them; we need any prisoners to clear up the situation. Provide water to the caravanners before transportation; keep their temperature cool. Their suits are damaged. If any of them perish on the trip, I'll treat it as a challenge," Janine ordered with a disinterested voice. "How many of our kin died?" A hint of sorrow crept into her speech.

While the troops counted their fallen, Olesya bandaged Aranea's injuries. Her fingers pried open the steel traps, providing much-needed relief to the strained limbs. Sly offered her a medical gel, and Olesya poured a heap of it into the wounds, rubbing it in to Aranea's grimacing as the fingers touched her naked muscles. Neither Janine nor Sonya reprimanded her for daring to summon the warlord, so she hoped that she was in the clear.

"Just sew the torn ends together," Aranea said, wiping tears as Olesya extracted splintered metal. "It all comes out eventually." She stood up, sensing Sonya's presence. The wolf hag had taken off her armor; her wounds were tended to, but the scout saw red appearing on the bandages.

"Drop your armor. Your friend will bring it back," Sonya said. The warlords and Aranea's pack approached them. "It's time. Follow me."

"Is it reasonable to leave?" Martyshkina said. "What if our weird dude…"

"Marty," Janine interrupted in a kind voice. "Taste the air. This challenge is safeguarded by the one defying the end and is more inevitable than death."

Martyshkina inhaled a full chest, standing still for a long while. Her eyes opened wide, full of shock and awe.

"Holy Spirits," she whispered. "Is it really?" She looked at Aranea with pity, placing a paw on her head. "Girl, it's do or die. Not a simple ranked scramble. Two leave, one comes back. If you want to win, let loose your ancestry. Accept the power; let it turn you strong while there is yet opportunity."

"I don't understand," Aranea said. "Challenges aren't meant to end in death. One submits, another rises, and the tribe lives on, learning and maturing."

"Not this time." Janine shook her head, scowling. Her paw twitched, gripping the shaft tighter. "Sometimes, very rarely, we hear the call. One path must end for another way to open. You desire change." Aranea nodded to the keen look. "Two ideas clash. The old will be tested. The new will either prevail or perish."

"My warlords, it's not my place, but…" Olesya prostrated herself. "Scout Aranea is unwell. Hurt. It's unfair, not right, to force her to compete right now…."

Martyshkina's jaws closed on Olesya's neck, yanking her off her feet with ease. However, the punishment didn't go any further; the fangs didn't puncture the skin, and Martyshkina let go of the scout.

"It's not your place or mine to stop it," Martyshkina said, slapping Olesya. "But… I am human, too. Even we find ourselves caught up in the flow of nature. Trust in your friend. Should she fail, keep memories of her in your heart." She led Olesya away.

Sonya's friends gathered around her, whispering words of encouragement.

"It isn't supposed to be so," Kostya said. "I remember when you were just a short-nosed brat."

"Who cares about the past?" Kate hissed. She grabbed Aranea by the wrists. "Sonya's old. Use her age against her. She isn't healing as quickly as she used to."

"Yes," Kostya agreed. "Dance around her. Avoid going on the offensive. Let her stamina run dry."

"Use any openings to slash at her," Yuki said. "If that's a special, rules-disregarding challenge, then screw the traditions. Forget honor. Cheat however you can."

"Come back in one piece," Sly said.

"Don't die, Aranea," Kaleb asked, caressing his broken arm.

"Thank you," she said, hugging her pack. Kate tensed but returned the embrace, bumping foreheads.

"You are injured. Let me make your burden easier." Janine said when Aranea removed her armor. The warlord picked up both contenders and reached the cliffs in a single leap. "This is all the mercy I can afford to spare. Sonya," she addressed the wolf hag. "You served me well, and I was never disappointed in you. Be reborn into a happy person if you lose. Aranea." The warlord turned to the scout. "You are a half-breed, not wholly my kin by blood. And yet I always thought you belonged to my extensive lineage. If you die, may fate reunite you with your family in the next life as friends. These are my farewell words to one of you. Fear nothing, for nobody can interrupt your duel. Give it your all, my soldiers—daughters of the Wolf Tribe and citizens of the Reclamation Army." She left them.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.