Ignacy dropped the injured Wolfkin. The tradition was clear on this: leave the crippled to live another day, and save lives where you could not. But the boy didn’t abandon the soldier for this reason. He rolled to the left, right into the middle of the road. The targeting system of his armor ected directly to his prosthetic arm, transferring trol of the in-built fmethrower to a cold and rudimentary mae intelligehat operated on far higher levels of perception than a male Wolfkin could ever achieve. And thanks to the linked vision and IFF system, his arm stayed firmly poi the oppo, no matter the speed.

  “Need cover!” Ignacy called, sealing his helmet, and Janine’s ughter echoed through the ruireets of the settlement, quieting even the nearby bedm.

  Colt. What cubs have we given life to.

  Ignacy aimed to save a life. But not at the cost of losing his own. He could never match the rider’s speed, but the clever boy had opehe direct el to the Alpha Pack scout, and the female listeo him, tossing a gre Ignacy. It blossomed into a caustic cloud that hid Ignaough for the shots of the pulse rifle to miss him entirely. A shot nded in the scout’s stomach, bug her knees as the rider panicked and fired madly.

  But it was too te. In her eagero ram Ignacy, the invader accelerated her hoverbike too fast, driving the ehing into the mist left by the grenade, and a new, crimson flower flickered ience as the automatic system directed the limb and unleashed a stream of searing fme. Shrieking like a banshee, her legs merging with the melting parts of her metal steed, the rider left the cloud, engulfed in fmes, and crashed into a distant ruined building.

  “I ’t believe it worked!” Ignacy yelled as he rolled from the cloud. “I lived; thank you, Spirits; we lived, wo-hooo!”

  “What… what else did you expect from ae…” The scout vomited on the ground. “Damn it, my guts, not again… Stop fooling around!”

  “Yes, scout!” Ignacy tried to salute, cursing the touch of acid on his exposed biological fingers. He shook them, rushing to help his rades to safety.

  Camelia faced the chargi head-on, uncoiling and hardening her on. The tip of the on faced the massive forehead and sliced through the horns and unusually tough hide. Then it stopped, stu the outer yer of muscle and bohe beast grumbled, as if in satisfa of its victory, and pressed harder, cutting deep gashes in the pavement with the Ice Fang’s feet.

  A smile touched the sword saint’s lips, and she let go of the shardgun, taking the spear in both paws. Bundles of artificial fiber muscles tightly g to her body like a sed skin. Servomotors on Ygrite’s battlepte roared, boosting the woman’s strength into airely new realm.

  The spear moved in. There was no ce the beast didn’t notice it; had it been a normal animal, its instincts should’ve taken over and driven it to flee from a deadly frontation. But it persisted, perhaps due to the training or perhaps because of the domestication that had dulled the instincts of its species. Whatever the reason, it certainly wasn’t intelligence. Even a cusack had enough wits to uand what would happehe sharp point of an ioid drone pierced its bone.

  The bde plunged deep into the beast’s brain, and rivers of blood gushed from its nostrils, ears, mouth, and us small eyes. In a single, swift motion, Camelia pulled the on free and spun the Moon in her arms, and a blinding arc cutting first the ground and then the massive head to the lower jaw. She bowed curtly to the dead areated to stand guard nacy as he teo the wounded, still cursing from the bitiions on the exposed parts of his body.

  Sarkeesian yanked a male out of the way of the hoverbike, and the soldier threw his grenades, c the road in acid. The rider made a U-turn, skirting the cloud. Energy orbs flew into the mist, but the wolf hag and the soldier were already hiding in the ruined building. As the enemy ceased firing, looking for another victim, the wolf hag broke free of the building and cratered the ground, narrowly missing the raider’s vehicle. The rider turned and took a shot to the back from the ruins, knog him off his seat and into the wolf hag’s cws.

  The same picture repeated itself throughout the battlefield. The Wolfki go of their rage a go of the usual direct approach, where males and warriors were expected to give their lives for their superiors to secure a kill. Wolf hags and scouts worked in coordination with the lower ranks, stalking the night and ambushing the opposition, shooting and tearing them apart.

  This was not done for the sake of efficy alone. Every girl and boy of their tribe deeply ingraihe rule that a warlord knows best, to the extent that cubs would obediently sacrifice their lives for the be of many. When Janine rescued a male, she took a different approach, and the pack followed suit, proteg the lower-ranking members from the pulse rifle shots and cooperating like Normies.

  “An unknown object is approag the battlefield. Altitude ten thousaers, rapidly desding, no visual on target,” said a dispassionate operator ba the crawler.

  “No ces. Shoot it down.” Cristobo joihe unication.

  “This could be a rare archeotech piece, Captain,” argued Till Ingo. “Its speed and size are…”

  “Corre. It might have been a potential archeotech piece,” Cristobo interrupted in a firm tone while warnings fshed on Janine’s HUD, signaling the start of surface-to-air missiles preparation. “Whatever it is, it is about to bee ashes. Operator! Clear the Recmation Army’s aerospace!”

  “Long live the nation! Long live the Dynast!” the operator responded, and unleashed a salvo of missiles directed at the target.

  Crawlers bore every ceivable on. From the absolute death that were heat ray ons to the impressive array of artillery, rockets, and missiles. Equipped with chemical, ballistid energy ons to turhe most unfavorable situations around, these maes were the lyns of any war. They were desigo have no weako exploit, and they could find aroy any soul that resisted the noble goal of global reunification.

  But there was one on, oype of ammunition, that had not been used in over fifty years, not sihe Great War of age when Ravager led her forces against the Iternian bastions. This was not due to a ck of restraint or humanity, unlike chemical warfare, which was limited to use against mindless bioons and ioids after the Great Nations signed a preservatioy banning MAD and cruel onry. Its disuse was because of a ck of suitable targets. Tonight, that ged, and missiles took to the skies, aimed at the flying target.

  On the ground, the rag hoverbikes began grating at Janine’s heir ons posed a threat to evehickest armor ptes, and she and Predaig had to block the ining shots, ag in a manner unbeing of a warlord, while their own swings and shots missed as the riders spread out in a wide circle, avoiding passing near dwellings and no loaking ear a possible ambush pte while firing shots at the Recimers from a distance.

  “I have an idea. Warlord Predaig, could you py along?” Impatient One inquired over a secure el.

  The shaman’s howl shook a few surviving windows, and she leapt into the st remainireating raider group, ripping the head off the raider. A hoverbike raced past her, its bde cutting a sizeable k of metal from the shaman’s back. She roared in rage and chased after it, abandoning the ranks.

  “Wait! Shamaurn at once!” Predaig yelled worriedly.

  From the interse, another rider piloted his flying vehicle, aiming the front bde at the shaman’s bad sh Predaig with pulsating orbs that hissed against her raised bde. The intruders also cooperated, though to a lesser degree, and the one being pursued informed his rade of the potential kill opportunity.

  The bike’s bde almost touched the seemingly maddened shaman’s back when she slipped a paw under her armpit and grabbed uhe sharp edge. All ostentatious fury vanished, and Impatient One flipped the hoverbike’s nose skyward, spinning herself along with it. She stabbed into the ter of the vehicle as it passed over the falling shaman, and Janine heard Ignacy’s groan, followed by a bop against his head by the ughing and coughing scout.

  Impatient One’s arm passed through the hoverbike, breaking its engine, and her paws grabbed the raider by his groin, squeezing with all their might. It wasn’t a pretty way to go, but it was a swift one, as the shaman pulled the desperately shrieking man through the entire hoverbike and cast his broken form to the ground, fttening his head.

  A horizontal swing above her head drew sparks from the helmet and blocked the ining pulse energy orbs. Predaig, tent to appear slow until this point, disappeared from view, crossing the distao the shaman in the blink of an eye as the sed rider attempted to avenge his panion’s death. The warlord’s bde cut his head off, and the explosion of the first hoverbike bathed both women in fme, burning away the blood and dirt of the night off their ptes.

  “Good job.” Janine smiled. She spotted the retreating hoverbikes slowing down a bit, inviting the chase. “Let’s do it again. Sarkeesian, gather a group at the turn, but be careful. We have an uninvited guest.” Her eyes narrowed at the sight of a stone falling off a ruined building, and she sent this image to the soldiers, warning them of the danger.

  In battle, there are a few reasons to retreat. One was to save your life, naturally. Another is to feign weako lure a hunter into a well-pced ambush so you finish them off.

  Dropping to all fours, the shaman charged after the bikers, howling at the top of her lungs. Her chilling howl didn’t fool the raiders this time, and they sped off, leaving her in their wake as she leapt into the air, grasping the empty space where the ughing raider was a moment ago…

  And in this span of a sed, the pile of rubble to her left exploded, and pebbles drummed against the diamodite alloy. A familiar shadow rose and propelled itself on all four limbs, wielding a long, curved bde, masterfully utilizing this brief distra. The blow would have sliced through the exposed rubberized prote, but it struck Janine’s axe instead as the warlord closed the distao her daughter.

  The impact of the g bdes shook the nearby windows, and the attacker cursed as the reverberation ran up his arm. Janine shoved her daughter aside just in time for the ambush team to open fire on the hoverbikes, riddling their bodies with armor-pierg shards. One of them even mao make a full turn to escape, ing right into Predaig’s culling zohe warlhe screams of the dying foes and focused on her oppo.

  He looked unique for a new breed. He stood on four long, needle-like legs. A hooked pincer was at the end of each leg. Up to the waist, the man was undeniably closer to an ihan a human, but above the waist was a very human body, giving the false impression of an ht balloon. But there was a real power behind the taur’s strike, and she remembered how fast he had scuttled away after killing Dragena’s scout. There were impressive muscles hidden by the folds of flesh and occasional chitin ptes growing over patches of skin. His head was shaved, he had a long mustache, and one pupil was regur while the other was normal.

  A Malformed.

  “Are you the leader of this rabble?” Janine asked, notig a hint of uanding in the oriental eyes. The new breed tried to make room for another ssh, and Janine brought the axe down, easily overp his resistand cutting through his right shoulder and two legs at their joints. Grunting in pain, the man spat blood against her helmet, and Janine licked it, tasting the usual human fvor, and bared her fangs. “Answer me. Or I shall devour your brain.”

  “I almost feel sorry for you,” the raider ughed. His two remaining legs smashed into Janine’s side as she grabbed him by the neck. He kicked again and again, breaking his pincers. “We only came here for a minor raid. To receive a tribute and sniff out if you know anything about him.”

  “Him?” Janine asked.

  “But you have dared to raise a hand against us,” the Malformed tinued, breathing hard and half-delirious from his wounds. “For this crime, it shall be cut off. You shall weep in unending misery as my father takes you apart! For this insult, Mad Hatter will see your kind quered and turned into a on fodder for our quest, and your nds turned into another feeding ground for the Horde! Rejoice! You are about to witness a living god in a. I should ugh…”

  “All you should do is fear.” Jaightehe grip around his neck, examining the gasping face, ign the nails that broke against her vambrace. “A night is not enough to list your crimes or to expin how big of a blood debt was incurred for despoiling dens of our citizens. I will see your horde broken at our feet and your leaders gutted.” She grimaced as Kit approached her. “Is this their boss?”

  “No!” the girl gulped. “There was another…”

  “Janine, ining from the south!” shouted the crawler’s operator.

  An artificial sun briefly shone otlement, banishing the darkness of the night and casting a long shadow from beh her legs. The anti-air missiles. They found their target, chasing it around the settlement. The target skillfully guided two missiles into each other, and the shock wave knocked another missile off course. But three remained, and the object suddenly halted in midair. Cameras installed in the missiles transmitted an image of a giant bow singing as it released three arrows that strud exploded the missiles. A rge hand grasped a metal cloak and ed it around the body to withstand the fiery explosion, and an arrow flew from hell in the sky, heading straight for Janine, followed by a deafening roar.

  It wasn’t a random attack. The bastard had timed his shot, and if the operator hadn’t warned her, she would have missed the timing. Eveed, it wasn’t her skills that saved her. The arm-wielding Taleteller rose on pure instinct, fag up against a projectile that hit harder than any artillery shell that she knew. It smmed into the axe’s ft with enough force to open a bunker, ae Janine’s best efforts, if not for the aid of the arriving Predaig, who supported Janine’s bde arm, Kit would have died if not for the help of the arriving Predaig, who supported Janine’s bde arm. The ensuing bst of air threw the young girl away, spttering her against a wall before she colpsed, leaving a trail of blood oone.

  Janine’s legs trembled, struggling to keep her standing, and the arrow spli st, its tip crumbling. A piece of wood flew to the side, spearing the Malformed through the nose and emerging from the back of his head, instantly killing him. An arrow. Someone had aimed an arrow directly at Kit. An arrow that traveled faster than a missile; an arrow that impaled a missile as if it were little more than quid.

  This was something new.

  “Pack, take cover!” she ordered too te.

  Wreathed in fmes and r like a dragon, a flying bike raced through the air toward the settlement, desding from the torn clouds and emerging from the swirling smoke. Its rider, a man in a golden segmented armor modeled after scale armor, held a long bow in one hand. He stood as tall as a warlord, the facepte of his helmet stylized into a scowling human face. Vast, gilded wings spread to the sides of the helmet, bending slightly backwards; the unknown masters put their soul into them, artfully giving each feather a lively appearance, as if the bird erched on a man’s shoulders.

  Eled barely had time to scream the warning when the bike raced past her pack, ramming through two Wolfkins. This vehicle spared them its bdes, and the sheer speed sent them flying. The raging inferno p from the r vehicle cooked both soldiers alive, burning them to a crisp before they could seal their armor or even squeal in pain.

  The rider stopped, threw one side of his great steel-feathered cloak over his shoulders, and ptuously examihe assembled warlords.

  “Are you Mad Hatter?” Janine asked, keeping herself from lunging at the enemy. The souls of the soldiers who died under her and cried out for retribution. And so it shall be. But the posture didn’t fool her. His eyes, hidden behind pale lenses, sed them for weakness. She growled, and Impatient One grabbed Kit and disappeared into the ruined building.

  “I left to hunt the runaways, and Brood Lord’s whelp messed things up in my absehe rider said in a rough on.

  “You quered this pce.” Predaig the surroundings: at the ruined building, at the dead raiders and citizens, at the fmes burning in the ruins, at the emptied stores, at the destroyed vehicles, and at the withering pnts. “Was it worth it? To own a ruin?”

  “quest implies a desire for rulership,” the rider corrected Predaig. “I desire only the resources of this stinking hole and some information. Whoever remains in this desote asshole govern themselves as they see fit, as long as they abide by the Horde’s rules and pay tithes.”

  “Rules?” Eled asked quietly, jittering and drooling at an urge to draw blood.

  “Laws for free folk. Rules for serfs,” the man expined. He refused to firm himself to be Mad Hatter, so Janine named him Hawkhead.

  “Serfs,” Jaasted the world. Sves are called differently in different parts of the world. This word didn’t give her any hints about the invader’s homend. “Why kill the popuce if you ithes?”

  “This tribute is one of flesh. Old and young are not strong enough to survive the jouro the market. Not important to be preserved either. Burden. We would’ve been kindlier had the popuot fought back. Servile people are highly valued. Regrettably, the locals are anything but obedient. Doubtfully regrettable is their inability to provide passing amusement. No matter. Women will breed new children, and the rotting carcasses of these ones will serve as a warning to the batch of serfs. Irrelevant.” Hawkhead shrugged. “You stepped up to the Gilded Horde. There will be no mercy for this…”

  “Heard that already, peacock,” Janine snapped, lunging and sshing at him.