"I'm Aranea," the scout forced out the words. This thing. There could be no escape. She was bigger than Janine and Alpha combined.

"You have the appearance of my descendants, yet your scent differs." The Wolfkin tilted her head left, examining Aranea. "You bear the footprint of my power in you, though it is a distilled version. Not weaker, however, for the gifts of my siblings compensate for the difference." The head tilted right. "One eye of my lineage and another of theirs. What are you, cub? And why are you refusing the reward? Who damaged you so?"

"Your name first," Aranea demanded, squaring up and refusing to be cowed.

"Me?" the creature chuckled. "Forgotten at last. Ah, the glorious whiff of freedom. Ravager greets you."

The name shocked Aranea. Ravager. The unfathomable force, the unstoppable champion of the Dynast, the end and the beginning combined in one. So many titles, and every single one earned—both noble and terrible. The progenitor of the Wolf Tribe, she was the former commander of the Third Army and the one who had nurtured the Reclamation Army in its infancy. Here. Speaking to her so casually.

"I am the daughter of Kalaisa and Gregor Wintersongs. Kin to the Order and a soldier of the Tribe, ma'am," Aranea answered, dropping to one knee. A pinky touched her chin, lifting her up.

"Ah, I understand now. I sensed a funny smell, thought it to be another monster, found you instead, and prowled around, too curious to let go. You remind me of another cub." Ravager nodded. "But unlike her, you at least bear a resemblance to me. No shaming. Just peculiar, that one."

"The other cub?"

"Not my secret to reveal. Ask her yourself if you meet her." Ravager spoke calmly, neither demanding domination nor trying to bite Aranea into submission. She sensed the never-ceasing rage burning inside the S-Class, but none of that was directed at her. For a leader, she displayed no regard for traditions. The Blessed Mother glanced at the knocked-out Sonya. "Will you eat her?"

"Of course not!" Aranea startled, both from the question and from the sight of the opened maw, full of razor-sharp fangs.

"Then I will help myself." Ravager's head loomed over the wolf hag.

"Back off!" Aranea faced the gaping jaws, displaying no aggression but refusing to bare her neck. She was unsure of how to react. Janine had shared a story of how Ravager had slapped her hard enough to crack a skull and then stripped her of an honorary name afterwards, and Aranea wanted none of that. Well, any titles could go to ass. A slap from that would murder her. She sensed no irritation and continued, "I won. Her life is mine."

"Then take it," Ravager said, waiting.

"No. I chose to let her go on," Aranea answered. Ravager blinked, raising her brows. "I won, right?" A flash of emotions, too fast for the scout to read, passed through the progenitor's gaze. "The decision is mine. I refuse to obey any ridiculous tradition, including this one. One day, I'll change the Wolf Tribe too. Progenitor or not, I won't obey your will here."

"You want to become this?" Ravager stood on two legs, her head reaching the top of the stone pillar. She extended her arm and snapped her fingers. An arc of propelled air sliced through the night, sweeping away wide swaths of sand. Aranea prepared to ignore it when the ground shook. An ideal cut gouged a canyon in the rocky soil, disappearing at the horizon. "I overheard your dream. Understand, to bring about change, you need power. It may stem from an individual and their personal qualities or be provided by a political system, but the demand remains the same. The greater the change, the more power you need. We humans are stubborn creatures, often refusing to listen to reason until you grab us by the ear and force us to comprehend and behave. Sounds simple, but the power—regardless of the source—warps you. Will you truly be happy ending up like me? An estranged bringer of ruin. Can you avoid pitfalls that swallowed countless rulers?"

"Screw your power!" Aranea shouted at her ancestor, baring her fangs and tightening the muscles. "I won today with my paws and claws without relying on any power. I'll fix it all without causing destruction or death." Aranea said, not backing down as Ravager landed back on all fours, placing her head on the ground.

"Silly, amusing, stupid cub. Once, I, too, dreamed of the same. Tried even. The result? Skinwalkers," she mused, exhaling. "Let me demonstrate the folly of your way. Attack me in any way you want, little one."

"You created the skinwalkers?" Ravager nodded, lying still. "Do… do you have any idea what you've caused? Because of you, because of the filth like you, Mom is, she is!" Aranea choked, releasing the claws. Ropes of muscle bulged, and blood spurted from her lacerations, but she didn't care. Ravager made no attempt to defend herself, content with the situation, and smiled. Aranea took a step and forced herself to stop, taking deep breaths. Dad or Mom would not approve of senseless revenge. This woman wasn't the person who ruined her life. Ravager was a hero responsible for saving many people. She had no right to judge her. "You want to pay for your sins? Go right ahead; do community service or something. Don't expect to be absolved of blame just because you let me beat you to a pulp. Best of all, let's come back and reform the Tribe together…" She stopped at the rolling laughter that threatened to deafen her.

"Pay for my sins," Ravager howled with joyous mirth, remaining on her belly. "As if such a thing is possible. Girlie, there are truly bad people in the world. I am one of them—a monster, not a human. From the first day of my life, I have suffered. No one saved me, because no one helps monsters, so I had to save myself. A dawn will come when someone will end me, and that will be the end of it. There is no redemption or salvation for me. Never was and never will be. No, child, all there is for me is fighting and butchering, thinning out the number of monsters plaguing our world, so the people can build a future where creatures such as me cannot appear."

She wiped the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes and continued, offering a paw, "I am telling you to attack me to educate you. For you see, unlike me, there's potential in your future. You can do good. But you must learn the harsh truth to be aware of your limitations."

Ravager flicked her finger, touching the scout. It was enough to fling her off her feet as if she were standing at the epicenter of an explosion. She flew into the protruding part of the hill, hearing her left arm snap between her shoulder and wrist. The excruciating pain stole her vision, and she dropped to her knees, fighting for every breath as her organs shook.

"This. This right here is the limit to your dream. You are weak. Frail. Incapable of protecting yourself, let alone your ideals."

"Shut it!" Aranea growled, reeling, falling, and standing up at last.

"Make me." Ravager grinned. "Why should I listen to you? You can…"

"I said be silent!" Aranea roared, charging at the looming being.

Lost in rage, she slashed at her ancestor's nostrils. Her sharp claws, capable of opening power armor and gouging lines in metal and stone, bounced off the skin of the first of their kind, bringing no harm. She kicked to the same result and unleashed a flurry of stabs with her working arms, ignoring the pangs of pain as the broken edges of her bone scratched upon the muscles. Lips, the spaces between fingers, and the neck. Nothing. Not a scratch, not even the slightest reddening of the unbreakable hide. After a full minute of relentless and futile attacks, Aranea backed off, thinking.

There were two spots where it was bound not to be that tough. She chuckled, grinning from ear to ear. It was a crazy idea, but if her ancestor wanted the scout to go all out, she'll be glad to oblige. Aranea grabbed the nose with her right arm, pulling herself up, and swung the broken left arm on its wet surface, ignoring the agony. With heavy panting, she climbed onto the snout, facing one of the amber liquids. "You will feel this, you…" Aranea let out a frustrated howl, stabbing and falling on her ass as the sclera straightened up, denying any attempt to penetrate it.

"You're done?" Ravager asked with a yawn as Aranea tried her best to claw the progenitor's eye. Ravager didn't even bother to blink. The enormous paw rose, closing a gentle and firm grip around the scout. "Any apology from me would be hollow and fake. I never felt bad about inflicting non-lethal damage." Ravager admitted. "This humiliation was necessary. If you sincerely want to help the Tribe grow, you will need to be so much stronger."

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"Why do you care?!" Aranea shouted back. "You invented all these stupid laws and traditions, forcing us to fight and compete against our kin! Do you have the slightest idea how many cubs had to die for the crime of being 'weak' before the shamans amended your insanity? Or how many more ended up maimed or crippled because being cruel is apparently beneficial to success among us!" Bile and hatred rose in Aranea, urging her to go on. Strength? Their ancestor was unrivaled, and what had she done with it? Left her offspring in the dark and let them rot. "What kind of mother are you?!"

"I am a mother to no one. No one had ever cared enough to rescue me until I'd done so myself, so why should I care for anyone?" Ravager asked, shoving back the ghost of aggression in her eyes and lowering the heavy curtain of her lips upon the bared fangs. "Child. I've set no rules, laws, or traditions, except for not killing one another. My head hurts and spins, occasionally forcing me to mumble. I often forget things, only to remember them decades later. But through the nightmare of my existence, I know it for sure. I only taught the lesser me how to persevere and survive. Eat this, don't eat this, strike like that, don't bully civilians—they are our friends… Nothing more. Once, I talked heart-to-heart with Little Sis, and later with Dragena and Alpha. That's all."

"But the shamans claim…" Aranea said, shocked.

"They believe in whatever they want to believe, interpreting the craziest claims based on the most ridiculous assertions drawn from shifts in my mood. Little one, I can't even read. Do you believe I can be a creator?" Ravager giggled, her tone full of joy and grief. "No. The Tribe has made its own laws. It was the reason I left; I noticed that my savagery was hindering your growth. You've noticed that the shamans limited the opportunities to harm cubs. That would've been done so much sooner if I had shoved those rowdy girls and boys into an orphanage…" she chuckled. "Back then, there wasn't one, and I caused a blunder." She glanced at Sonya's broken form, turning Aranea so the scout could count the even breath of the rising chest. "Even now she can kill you. When she's healed, she'll issue a rank challenge. It's in our blood."

"Then I'll defeat her again," Aranea said. Was their progenitor insinuating that she changed her opinion and killed Sonya? Fat chance.

"No," Ravager said. "That's not what I meant."

"Do you…"

"Girl, your snout tells me everything I need to guess your thoughts," Ravager cheered. "Still so young and inexperienced. I love it. Study biology. Play cards. Changes in heartbeat, tensing, and scowling—these are all the details exposing the inner process. Never mind that. You'll lose. We both know that you won thanks to the accident. Let's change this fact, shall we? Release it." The last words were not a request.

It was a command that entered Aranea's mind, shredding her feeble resistance, and Ravager unclenched her paw, dropping the scout face down. She shook, trying to stand, resisting that sealed-away, never-ceasing temptation that flowed through the cracks done by the ancestor. She screamed, hearing her ribs cracking, and touched her mouth, finding the lost fangs growing back. They rattled as her jaw spasmed and elongated. Every organ in her body rebelled, swelling and sprouting more veins as the thickening bones joined in the pyre of transformation engulfing Aranea.

With a series of wet pops, fresh muscle bundles wrapped themselves around the broken arm, forcibly straightening the dusted bones. Blood was sucked from the swollen flesh; bruises smoothed out, restoring the elegant curvatures before the changes warped them with muscle. Aranea bit the ground, groaning from hunger as her belly sank to her spine. Her body used up every available calorie, hastening the process. The scout slapped her chest and heard the loud, altered sound of her heart. She punched the ground, sending stone shards flying.

They hovered, falling in slow motion. The transformation affected her more than her physical appearance; it altered her very mind to accommodate the process, giving her a renewed perception. She blinked, regaining control over her senses, and the shards dropped as they should have. Ravager's will no longer dominated every facet of her being. She exhaled, banishing the desire to embrace the reward from her mind. An image came to her mind: Ravager howling in a honeycombed catacomb filled with the corpses of Normies and New Breeds. The ancestor slashed at the walls to no avail, and the scout had become aware that the world outside this place was dying, leveled by the very weapons it had created for protection. Abandoned. Buried. Ravager's anger flowed into Aranea, preventing her from closing the lid on her power.

"Back," Aranea said, ignoring the visions. She throttled the intoxicating surge of ecstasy, forcing the images to fade. "I don't need your anger." Her growth halted, the fingers pulsed, no longer crafting additional phalanges or lengthening the claws. "I reject this abomination. I won't end up… like her." She coughed, pushing the gift back into the dark corner of her mind.

"Why did you stop?" Ravager leaned in closer, sniffing her. "There's still plenty of it stored inside of you. You've got the whiff. Quaff it in one go. Don't fear, I'll guard you. Release it." The command whipped Aranea, sending her spine shuddering during the attempt to level the erected barriers.

She bit her tongue, centering her attention on that pain, and pushed back with every ounce of her willpower. She heard a faint snarl, and two great shadows filled her vision, bringing with them no fear. They pushed at the demanding authority, joining the prowling thing that snarled in the back of Aranea's skull and empowering the woman to deny Ravager, driving her out of Aranea's mind.

"Ha-ha! Can't believe that you also have them inside of you! Even if I and they inside of you are little more than ghost echoes, I have to admit, it feels so strange to share space with them." Ravager clapped her paws, laughing without any annoyance at losing the struggle for control.

From inside Aranea came a double chuckle. The beings who had helped her retreated, revealing another vision: the darkness choking Ravager was sliced in two, leaving her sitting, unhappy and waist-deep in the palest snow. She ignored the fury of nature covering her fur with ice and rime. Two tall Ice Fangs stood by her side, urging Ravager to talk with them.

The crimson-eyed Ice Fangs pointed at the hut, visible in that storm thanks to light in its windows, and Aranea felt she had seen that building before. Tiny footprints led to its doors, disappearing under another layer of snow. In warm and kind voices, the duo tried to persuade the growling ancestor to go inside and rest. She closed her amber eyes, pretending to be asleep, and a jolt of irritated adrenaline sent by the black form shoved Aranea from the vision back into reality.

"Oh well, it's your loss. At least now you won't die so easily and can bare your fangs at me without kowtowing to my shade," Ravager said.

Aranea looked at her huge paw, understanding that she had become bigger than Sonya. The muscles rolled under the skin, thick as cables and yet capable of stealth. With the newfound clarity, she looked into the night, spotting every detail, and her ears picked up panicking screeches of the insectoids, sent fleeing by Ravager's cut.

"How dare you?" Aranea growled on her knees, trying to keep the rage in check. "How dare you force it upon me? All these years I had kept it at bay! And now…"

"And now that casket is broken. You glued it back together, but it'll come apart, eventually." Ravager cracked her neck with the noise of a fired cannon. "You want to change the Tribe, but you rejected a part of us. I have no doubt that you experience that unexplained call to bend males to your claw and to exceed, no matter what. That is our curse, our flaw." She patted Aranea on the back with a single finger, easing the tension. "Your dream is nice. I would've been happy to see it become a reality. You can feel it, firstpaw: the aggression and ingrained sexism. We differ from the Ice Fangs. Will your dream survive this?"

"Certainly." Aranea nodded. "You are wrong, Grandma."

"Grandma?"

"Wash up your eyes and clean the wax out of your ears. I don't recall the shaman or warlord of my village ever dominating a male for fun. If they can control their urges, then anyone can!" Aranea beamed. She took several deep breaths to dispel her anger. "I was worried that my task could be impossible, but this? There's nothing to be afraid of. We are not mindless beasts to be guided by instincts. They complement us, not the other way around! Nurture can change perception, and where nurture fails, peer pressure will do the job. No matter how many years it takes, there will be a day when we prove it to you, Ravager. Then, we'll drag you back to our family from your exile by the ears. We won't let you damn yourself."

"Then stand up, Aranea. Stand up and prove me wrong." Ravager ducked.

"Wait!" Aranea yelled. The ancestor halted. "I have a request! Many settlements have been hit by raiding parties…"

"I won't risk joining this war unless it's absolutely necessary," Ravager said. "The slightest thrill of murder risks awaking a berserker in me. It was why I stayed away from tonight's brawl and cleared your path of predators."

"That's precisely what I want to ask of you!" Aranea licked her lips in excitement. "Wolf Hag… Sonya pointed out that your presence terrifies the insectoids, and I…"

"Insolent midget, did you plan to use me as a bug repellent?" The amber eyes opened wide.

"Yes," Aranea admitted. "What, you have anything better to do?" Ravager gave out a choking noise, grabbing herself by the paw. "Give me a second to collect my thoughts. The settlements are spread out. I'll tell you which ones had it worst…"

"No need. To me, distance doesn't matter." Ravager sucked in the air through her fangs and snorted. "I've heard countless requests. But you? You stole the cake even from the Angel. Congratulations. Your pigheadedness has won my favor." In a blink, Ravager disappeared. There was no hurricane, no vast destruction. The progenitor jumped too fast for her to comprehend, Aranea understood.

Wolf Hag Aranea stood up, looking at her oversized paws again. Then she calmed herself and approached Sonya, trying to avoid putting pressure on the broken limbs and swollen snout. She hoisted the woman onto her shoulder, took a deep breath, and darted toward the camp, smiling in spite of losing to her power.

They lived!

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.