The balance shifted the instant the man armed with the spear appeared. He didn't jump or run. One second, a swarm of drones rained lasers and miniature rockets on the Soultakers. The next, the man in plain clothes was in the air, amidst the machines. His massive weapon swung, slicing through dozens of drones in an arc and using wind pressure to swat aside the rest. The UAVs scattered, adjusting their trajectories to fire at the surprising foe, but he disappeared. He reappeared atop a tank, plunging the spear's tip into the hatch and murdering two soldiers inside.

Aranea focused on him through the various cameras on the battlefield and again failed to spot a single movement. He simply vanished without a trace, and screams came from the trenches as he walked through them, slaughtering anyone in his path. At the turn, he blinked out of existence again, catching the hovering drones unaware.

The chaos sown by his involvement was small at first, but it kept piling on as he destroyed and murdered everything in his erratic path. The Soultakers' offense resumed, hammering away at the weakened frontline and seeking to smear the defenders across the mountainside, although Aranea wasn't sure to what benefit. It would be suicide to climb up…

Then, the advance came to a grinding halt. The black form leapt from the cliffs, landing in an explosion of sand that briefly concealed her. She charged out of the sand veil, jumping over trenches and allied soldiers and battering herself a path through several Soultakers, breaking bones in their bodies with a simple touch of her shoulders.

Clad in full combat armor, Warlord Martyshkina reached her target, stopping between two hover tanks, and with a thunderous snap, four yawning holes opened in the tanks' hulls: two entry points and two exit points. With pristine accuracy, she destroyed the engines, and the vehicles plowed into the ground, disrupting formations of their allies, and Martyshkina had already moved, firing again. Two officers simply disappeared in a red mist, while bullets carved pathways through them, ruining many. The warlord spun her revolvers, bludgeoning the opposition with the blunt handles.

There were no shamans left to accompany her; her troops remained on guard duty. Aside from the Normies retreating to another line of trenches, she ended up all alone. And a lone human proved to be too much for the countless foes swarming at her. She moved with blinding speed, making it impossible for the Soultakers to shoot her. Instead of hitting her, they wounded their allies. Hover tanks worried about friendly fire. The admirable behavior and discipline had cost them dearly as Martyshkina made way to a shield carrier and kicked its hatch open, disappearing inside. She broke out in a fountain of sparks and gore, disabling the shield, and the artillery hammered the area with its rage, sending corpses flying and damaging hover tanks. Martyshkina raced back to the mountains, halted, and joined an officer responsible for organizing the retreat. Two more shots brought further confusion and bought the time needed.

It was now that the man carrying the spear appeared behind her, thrusting a perfect strike capable of rupturing the warlord's lung if it were to land unopposed.

Martyshkina had once boasted that only friends could sneak up on her. The day tested the validity of this claim, and she passed with flying colors. Nothing betrayed the assassin's presence. His legs didn't even touch the dirt, and no smell could reach her nostrils faster than his fatal stab. She ducked to the left, and the blade passed between her arm and the side. Then she pinned it flat, caught the weapon, and spun, firing.

The bullet flew through emptiness and crashed into the mountainside, blasting a large crater in it, while the man and his weapon disappeared. Martyshkina gestured to the troops, appearing relaxed, and the foe rose at her back, slashing down with an overhead strike. The spear bounced off the revolver's barrel, unable to so much as scar it. Unlike Janine's or Jekaterina's weapons, Martyshkina's guns were not a discovery from a bygone era. They were cutting-edge tools designed and assembled by the state's top engineers.

Their simplistic appearance and outdated ammunition count had a simple explanation. It was because of the warlord's vanity and adoration of antique things. The man tried to push the spear down. Martyshkina leaned backward, parrying with her second gun and aiming the first. Without waiting, the giant blinked out of sight and reappeared on the ground, stabbing at the backpack housing the generator. Aranea clenched her fist, certain it was impossible to dodge from this position. Martyshkina proved her wrong, though, by jumping up and evading the strike.

The man grinned, either amused by the prolonged combat or because he had lured his opponent off the ground. A second later, he scowled and jerked his head to see laser rays licking his boots. From the eastern mountain range came several crimson beams, fired by the scouts and Olesya, who had borrowed a rifle from a subordinate. Velka and her wolf hag landed their shots, but the heat capable of melting metal merely brought reddened spots on the feet.

Still, it bought the breathing room, and as the man disappeared, translating to Martyshkina's rear, she was ready. He slashed faster, no longer playing. Anger and irritation fueled his movements. The blade rang upon the revolver, propelling the warlord forward with the force of the blow, and Martyshkina laughed, mocking the stupidity. She landed in a roll, jumping up and blocking a stab aimed to skewer her from behind. The two ended up going up in desperate combat, where a single mistake could've cost a life. More laser beams connected the cliffs with the fighters, splashing onto the warlord's armor and causing the foreign champion to hiss as the sparks set his clothes on fire.

Meanwhile, the front was crumbling in the west, aching Aranea's heart. She had been given the best suit and an adequate weapon. Her place was there. Flames raged in the trenches, boiling people alive. The figure draped in a red cloak stepped forward and revealed itself to be a huge man in crimson armor. He motioned, and the inferno spread over the Reclaimers' positions. Shells and gunfire ripped holes in his body, but a flash of fire hid him from sight. Then, he stepped forward, unharmed, leading the Regulators.

Their charge was reckless, devoid of care for personal safety, and they paid a terrible toll, incurred by the drones. Unlike the Soultakers or the Bentos, the Regulators lacked an effective anti-aircraft countermeasure so far. Most of the UAVs, glowing red and steaming from cast flames, returned to the crawlers for resupply and basic repairs.

For an hour, the center held, but eventually Jekaterina pushed Janine all the way back to the pass. Four shamans had died, and two more had suffered grievous wounds and had to retreat, holding their own guts from spilling out. The cyborgs were gradually but steadily eliminating Janine's elite bodyguards, enraging Aranea.

Two warlords are simply not enough to contend with the bulk of the Resistance's forces! Those strategists bit off more than they could chew! Now she understood the perverted wisdom of Ravager's method of warfare. In concentrating everything in a single claw reaching out for the enemy's throat, she ended wars in weeks, lessening the casualties among the allies. If Murzaliev hadn't forced the civil duties on them, if he hadn't spread the Wolf Tribe so far…

We would never have become less wild. Came a chilling thought.

"Warlord, permission to join…"

"Silence," Janine uttered. "Steel your heart, Little One. Believe."

Jekaterina tilted her head, listening, and the warlord took a step back. Neither Janine nor Jekaterina had sustained any serious injuries, but while Janine's plate was covered in notches and gashes, her opponent's armor still had its initial blue, and the tattered cloak kept flowing after the blonde. Both sides had been firing at them during the duel, eager to score a legendary kill or to aid their champion. Mysteriously and without a single mistake, they had dodged at the right time, without exposing themselves or being hit in the surrounding fury.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Jekaterina tossed her weapon up, grabbing it at the lowest part of the shaft, and launched a long slash, aiming to bisect her opponent from the head to the waist. Janine retreated another step, evading the blade by a millimeter, and stepped on the scythe as it landed on the ground. Her axe cleaved Jekaterina's left pauldron, sending the cloak hung from one shoulder.

Aranea kept looking through the cameras, hoping to see desperation or fear on the icy face. Jekaterina gave none of the courtesy and yanked the weapon back, stabbing with its end at Janine's left vambrace, denting it, as the warlord used this opening to gouge another line across the chest piece of her opponent with the Taleteller. The Soultaker pressed on, weaving cuts, and Janine gained distance, widening her natural lip on the upper jaw in a smile. A trickle of blood appeared on Jekaterina's damaged shoulder, and the warlord was certain she had read her opponent.

Aranea had the same thought until she noticed bulging veins on Jekaterina's temples and ropes of muscles entwining the thick neck. Jekaterina's expression still reeked of pride and boredom, but Aranea was sure that she had entered a stage of quiet rage, as much as it was possible for a person such as her. The Soultaker struck with a simple slash, not using any hidden techniques or tricks. Nonetheless, the strike reached its mark, scraping a deep gouge on Janine's chest and even reaching skin beneath.

The quality of her attack remained the same. Jekaterina kept using a single hand. Her next blow pushed Janine's axe back, and Aranea understood. The blonde simply put in more effort. Up until now, she had never considered Janine to be a threat and held back, either planning to kill the enemy with minimum effort or trying to take her alive. No longer. The silent rage was unleashed.

Janine had to retreat all the way back to the pass, coming to a halt before the last trench guarding the entrance. There was movement in it, but both opponents ignored it, consumed with their duel. A kick from the giant cyborg sent Lying One over the trench; a machine-gun burst opened wounds all over the wolf hag. Her pack had left the battle or died, and the Bentos cheered, eager to recapture their fortification.

Covered in dozens of bleeding wounds, her hide slashed, Janine tried her best to withstand the cold tsunami with her own slashes. Her skills, acquired over centuries, were not enough to turn the tables. Blood continued to gush from Jekaterina's shoulder, but she was stronger, and each strike sought to murder, wound, or maim, forcing the warlord to focus on staying alive. At last, Jekaterina swatted the axe aside, and Janine knelt, evading the beheading strike that shaved off her hair along with a strip of skin. With a calm expression, Jekaterina raised the Reaper of Lies above her head, intending to end this.

Seven X-015 suits burst out of the trenches. Designed to be lethal at close range, they activated disruptors mounted on their shoulders, singing the song of destruction, which engulfed Jekaterina. The Soultaker stepped back the second she saw them, but it wasn't fast enough. Her eyes popped, leaking upon her face, and she reached out with her hand, trying to shield her face to no avail. Her skin cracked, the vibrations dusted her white teeth, blood fountained from her orifices, and the long hair was ripped from her scalp. The suits gained on the cyborgs, exchanging a single melee punch, before the sound waves shook the metallic carapaces, crushing both them and the soft brains hidden within.

Everything… From the roar up to this moment, everything had been planned.

Janine rushed. Blinded and deafened, Jekaterina still sensed her and made a clumsy swing, missing the target. Janine never permitted another attack, her murderous axe bit into the exposed chest piece, right at the weakened section. And broke through it, shattering the cranium, destroying the heart and both lungs in the process. The force of the blow sent Jekaterina flying and plowing into the rock. Her cloak tore into pieces, forming a trail of blue patches leading to the triumphant warlord. The Soultaker was dead. She never had a chance to survive a single, cruel, and effective strike.

"That's what it means to be a leader, Aranea," Janine said on a private channel. "In war, there is no place for individual hubris."

Aranea understood. The warlords were the ultimate warriors of the Wolf Tribe, exhibiting their best qualities and nurturing their personal traits within their packs. Unity was one such trait, and Janine prevailed thanks to both wits and brawn, testing and calculating the best method to eliminate the greatest danger and incur additional losses upon the foe.

"You've failed! Scram or turn to ash!" Janine raised her left arm, pointed the flamecaster, and unleashed a torrent of searing white heat, setting the lesser cyborgs aflame. Their metal parts heated, melting their way through the soft tissues, and the warlord moved her arm, eager to let the fires consume Jekaterina's corpse, to Aranea's confusion.

Why desecrate a worthy opponent?

The flame never touched the body as the standing-up Jekaterina cut the torrent of heat in two. The wind pressure parted the remaining flames, and the Soultaker used her weapon for a pole and leapt over the returning hell, landing next to the X-015 suits. Clutching the shaft with her hands, she transformed into a blur and sheared through the thick torsos of the walkers around her. Janine Forty-Seventh fired her shardgun and dashed aside as the scythe's afterimage neared her. Aranea's eye widened as the upper part of the senior wolf hag slid from her torso, and the arms, cut at the elbows, dropped into the dirt.

So fast! The wolf hag's sacrifice saved two of the seven suits and gave Janine the opportunity to attack. Two warriors clashed again, and through the cameras Aranea observed fresh black eyeballs that had grown in place of the lost ones. No more blood dripped from the Soultaker; her new blonde hair spread in the wind, and untouched tanned skin was visible through the cracks in her armor. A tingle of fear ran through Aranea as she recalled Kate's words about how the priests had failed to sacrifice this woman. She had used her power.

A loud explosion came from the eastern mountain range. The giant with the sword spear had abandoned his bout with Martyshkina and appeared near an artillery piece. He stabbed the artillery piece with his weapon, detonating the ammunition and blowing up the vehicle. He whirled around, murdering the nearby troops and catching a wolfkin warrior by the nape as she fired at him. The woman clawed at his hand, and he simply closed her teeth on her head, biting through the helmet and chewing on the flesh.

A cannibal. The Resistance is employing cannibals. Aranea shook with disgust and rage, wishing nothing else but to be there to shield Olesya's back. But her post was here, and she had to trust in her allies.

Martyshkina had already heard the commotion and snarled in frustration, holstering her revolvers, then jumping and climbing up the stone with incredible speed. Several Soultakers used jetpacks to reach and join their commanders, and their main force headed to storm the underground tunnels spreading below the mountain range.

The Regulators reached the edge of the mountain range. Blaguna and her personal forces kept to the rear, oblivious to the losses sustained by her front forces. It was a small mercy, as their numbers still were impressive. The bodyguard in green stepped forward, reaching for his belt. He tossed the thing close to the stones, and a large construction of metal stairs appeared on the wide swath of the ground, letting the soldiers walk up to the cliffs without climbing. Yasen commanded the onslaught.

Osero finally gave the order, and the tunnels opened, releasing fresh reinforcements supported by the precious X-015 mechanical suits. The walkers tore into the enemy ranks, crumpling heads, overturning hover tanks, and leaving a bloody mist as their disruptors wailed their merciless song of death. Steel, flesh, or bones—it mattered not. The vibrations reduced it all to dust, and lives ended so abruptly that many didn't have a chance to scream.

Run. Run, you idiots. Pleaded Aranea. Turn around and go. Don't make your children wake up without their parents!

"Heroes never abandon their allies! We may die, but we'll never surrender!"

Yasen rose in the air, using his kinetic power to levitate. He unleashed bursts, flattening several of his own soldiers and dozens of Reclaimers with each attack. Drones tried to swarm him, but a massive kinetic wave scattered them as he spread his arms. He landed, forming a shield that stopped the waves of sound closing in on his soldiers. In a line he crossed the distance to the nearest X-015 suit, punching it so hard that his arm speared the machine. His fist opened, dropping pieces of bone and gore of the pilot, and another pulse left his palm, toppling the nearest suit.

"Onward! Still the beating of their shield and the day is ours! To freedom! Ours and the future generations'!" Yasen roared, rekindling the Regulators' morale. "We dealt with two tyrants; let's choke out the third!"

Despite his encouragement, the Regulators' assault slowed. Their forces rolled off the tunnels while their core kept climbing up. The conjured fire engulfed recon towers on the cliffs to little gain, as Lieutenant Marveni Ursico had already recalled soldiers into the deeper defensive lines when the unusual siege equipment had unfolded itself.

The mysterious tremors kept touching Aranea's feet, but she pushed the thoughts about them out of her head, watching how the Regulators reached the cliffs and knowing that the shield station was about to be tested. The battle had reached them, and she intended to do her best to save as many allies as she could.

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