Chapter 59: Chapter 52: Meeting on the Road

“Form up!” Alpha snapped, stepping onto the crawler’s deck.

Janine straightened herself, paws at her sides. Today, she and the other leaders gathered in front of the main elevator. The sword saints, along with their knight captains and warlords, and their wolf hags, stood in two equal opposite lines, without any weapons or armor. The Ice Fangs wore their finest doublets and elegant capes, while the Wolfkins donned the sturdy officers’ coats. Together, they formed a welcoming committee to greet Houstad’s mayor, a man named Jaquan Kruger, and the local commander of the Provincial Army.

The elevator doors opened, and the Blessed Mother strode outside, flanked by Captain Cristobo, who was little more than a cub compared to her massive bulk. Ravager moved on all fours, sniffing the air and glancing at the assembled Wolfkins, looking more like a caged beast than an honorable leader. Where Cristobo’s steps produced a metallic thud upon the surface, Ravager traversed in complete silence, occasionally licking her lips and blinking slowly.

“Why are you shaking?” In a burst of speed, Ravager appeared near Anissa and Melina. The light from her eyes illuminated the women, and they gave up a scent of fear and submission as the giant fangs neared them.

Anissa gulped and said: “It’s cold here, Blessed Mother.” Ravager tilted her head, observing the speaker as if she were just a gnat. Her amber lights had completely erased the tiny crimson of Anissa’s artificial eye.

“We don’t enjoy being around here,” Melina supported her. “The weather is cool; water comes from the sky, and there is no prey or danger in sight.”

Ravager lifted her paw and released a single claw from her index finger. Janine broke ranks, positioning her body to shield her officers, and bravely faced the amber eyes.

“If my pack has caused you any displeasure, take it on me, Blessed Mother,” Janine said. The floor shook as Alpha and Ashbringer joined her, forming a wall.

“Is that so?” Ravager stretched out the last word; her claw twitched.

“Yes, Blessed Mother. You had taught us to respect the military command. I am responsible for the well-being of my pack.” The claw came down, and Janine thought her soul was about to leave her body. But instead of cutting, the claw merely tapped her chest, unfolding the folds of the official uniform.

“Good girl,” Ravager said nonchalantly, standing on two legs. There was a honeyed edge to her voice. “I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t hate our situation, too. We were born for war, slaughter, and feasting upon tyrants, for finding warmth in the guts of our foes as we cleave them open. I find calm in the shattering stockages and facing incoming fire head-on. The glory of felling a prey is energizing, the sight of liberated people is intoxicating. My heart sings with joy when I see my brave girls bleeding out an arrogant enemy leader or tearing a fortification apart. Bullets flying past our ears, claws weaving the deadly melody, sisterhood and comradeship on the battlefield... These things are known to us, ingrained in our souls. Spirits, I almost wet myself when I heard about our vacation. No wonder we all feel uncomfortable, stuck in the crawler like food in a refrigerator.”

Chuckles met Ravager’s words, and even Leonidas Summerspring smiled, nodding in agreement.

“But the joy of battle is finite!” Ravager raised her voice. “Every battle, every war ends. Change is inevitable. The age of turmoil is nearing its end. Mighty is the Reclamation Army, and few dare to challenge us anymore. But what do we know of the peace we fight for? Little, my warriors. But love a life without war we must, for we claim to fight and die for it. And we are not liars! The Dynast, in his wisdom, has decided that it is time for us to know peace. So heed my orders. Partake in civilian activities; read these…” She moved her paws, struggling to find words.

“Books?” Zero offered.

“Newspapers?” suggested Macarius Voidrunner.

“Yes! Both!” Ravager nodded in thanks. “Visit what places you can afford. Play games, eat food, speak to the people, learn of their customs, fears and hopes, cooperate…” She trailed off, inhaling to stop. “Live. Live, my soldiers. It is time for the Ice Fangs to take the lead for once and help us adapt.”

“We will obey your wish, oh Blessed Mother.” Leonidas fell to a knee, but a huge black paw raised him and gave him a friendly pat.

“I rely on you, sword saints, as I ever relied on the Twins.” Ravager said. “As for the cold, the blood of my blood, you’ll get used to it in a year or two. Alpha and Zero can attest to that. Don’t worry, we won’t be here that long, so I recommend wearing warm clothes. At attention!”

Proudly snapping her fingers, Ravager left to join Cristobo, and Alpha, along with Janine, returned to their posts. The column was nearing Houtstad’s outskirts, moving along the specially constructed road that had been built to accommodate the military forces. Despite this, cracks ruined the smooth surface, for the Inevitable’s weight was so great that even the reinforced concrete could barely support it. The cracks widened even further as the Ice Fangs’ smaller mobile bastions followed the massive machine. Behind them trailed artillery units, infantry trucks, and at the far end, tanks moved in to secure the rear. Their long journey was nearing its end.

All around them, a land of wonders was unfolding. Rich fields, teeming with wheat, shared borders with vast pastures where livestock grazed. And not just any livestock! Cows—actual, living, breathing cows, restored by genetics—grazed the grass, their tails lazily slapped at swarms of flies. Janine licked her lips, eager to taste their white milk, so supposedly soft compared to the tough green of the cusacks.

There were no lizard hens anywhere, but thousands of trees, carrying heavy harvests of apples, grew within sight. Far beyond them were greenhouses of the Oakster family, the largest food suppliers in the entire Reclamation Army. Colorful and nice barracks for migrant workers stood near the greenhouses where exotic bananas, lemons, and oranges were grown. Dozens of smaller trucks stood ready to take the workers to the distant slaughterhouses and tanneries, but for some strange reason they stood empty as the workers and several Oaksters on six-legged horses shouted greetings and waved their hats at the soldiers.

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Rivers appeared on the horizon, surrounding Houstad like trenches. Only instead of being filled with sand, sharp iron spikes, and mines, cubs of various ages filled the calm waters or swam to shores, fighting over binoculars to survey the approaching mountain of steel. Janine’s eyes weren’t as sharp as her cousins’, but she spotted people in green uniforms herding families away from the main bridge as the growing crowds flashed their terminals.

Above them, a plane, proudly flying Iterna’s celestial blue colors, descended to an airport in the city. Janine noticed Zero clenching and unclenching her fists, trying to stay calm. She sympathized with her sister. The Reclamation Army had almost no aviation, and the last time they had seen Iternian planes was when they had bombed them.

“Is this a delivery of sorts?” Predaig inquired, focusing her gaze on the plane.

“Nah,” Martyshkina whispered to her. “Iternian goods come by land. These are tourists.”

“The who?” Janine asked.

“My fellow citizens who travel to another countries seeking thrills, recreation, or for business,” said Jacob Makarevich. The obnoxious Iternian dressed in the simple clothes of a Reclaimer infantryman, but cut off all military insignia. His camera hovered nearby, filming the commander. “The Great Nations have signed many treaties, including treaties on the treatment of tourists, and Houstad has even reopened and rebuilt the ancient airport to accommodate planes. It works both ways, by the way. Drop by Iterna; it’s not that hard to get a tourist visa for our country.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, pal,” Zero hissed.

“The world truly becomes a less savage place…” Janine said proudly. It seemed that just yesterday, they were dragging Iternian prisoners from the downed planes. And now they welcome them as guests.

“It sure is.” Jacob nodded. “Anyway, if you change your mind, our embassy is in the south, close to the Oathtakers’. There aren‘t even queues compared to the lines to get a visa into the lands of your neighbor.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Zero mused, checking her helmet.

“The Oathtakers have an embassy here?” Martyshkina asked. “Jani, think Lyudochka …”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Marty,” Janine replied. “We haven’t had a letter from her in a long time. She probably moved on and is working in a lab somewhere.”

Janine could sense the curious eyes of her daughter and others burrowing into the back of her head. Let them guess—this secret didn’t belong to them.

A sound of a limousine racing from the city attracted her attention. The car stopped briefly beside the crawler to unload two passengers, then moved aside as the soldiers led the new arrivals to one of the outer elevators. The first to step onto the upper deck was a dark-skinned elderly gentleman in a stern gray business suit and a small gold key emblem on his lapel, marking him as mayor. He hurried toward Ravager; his scarless face flashed a broad smile to everyone.

His companion had a more serious and dignified look. She was a tall woman clad in a standard gray field uniform. A similar gray overcoat hid the carapace body armor; on her chest was a golden medal earned for bravery. Her skin had an unnatural pale hue, the result of a painstakingly long healing process from extreme burns. The top left corner of her head was hairless, briefly revealing ugly scars before the woman donned an officer’s cap.

“Commander Ravager, what an honor!” The mayor said in a confident voice. “Jaquan Kruger at your service.”

“The honor is all mine, Jaquan,” Ravager said pleasantly, and Janine almost bit her tongue in surprise. The Blessed Mother’s voice differed from her usual self; she kept a paw behind her back and extended another for a fingershaking, as Jaquan could fit in her palm. As he touched her, Ravager’s left pupil collapsed into a dot and the lips parted, revealing fangs and drool. “My apologies,” Ravager said in a strained voice. “A headache. Still acclimating. Troops! Greet our guests!”

“No! No need for ceremonies, my friends. I will have none of that from the brave defenders of our safety.” Jaquan quickly spoke, preventing the Wolfkins from kneeling. “It is I and the people of Houstad who owe you and the founder a debt of honor for our city’s very existence!”

“I founded nothing!” Ravager snapped suddenly, stopping her fangs just short of the man’s face. His smile never wavered, and he put on his glasses to shield his eyes from the light. “I am jumpy today, Jaquan. My deepest apologies for the scene, but we had very little to contribute to the creation of this magnificent den.”

“Then only the brave defenders. You can’t dispute that,” the officer said cautiously, coming closer. She nodded to Ravager and saluted to the captain. “Captain Cristobo! I have heard much about your accomplishments in the reclamation efforts. It is an honor to meet you in person, sir. We have received word of an attack on a settlement in the Outer Lands. Do we know anything more about the invaders?”

“Negative, Lieutenant.” Cristobo shook her hand. “The raiding party was completely wiped out. Warlord Onyxia is currently trying to find any clues about the whereabouts of the attackers.”

“Jacomie, give it a rest. I am sure our guests will tell us everything later, after they have had a well-deserved rest.” Jaquan placed a hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder. “How about we all concentrate on the incoming parade instead? Ah, I can already see it! The Wolfkins of both groups marching side by side, with Commander Ravager at the head, giving a speech…”

“Not interested,” Ravager said in a hoarse voice. “Hail to you and all that, kind mayor, but just tell me where our dens are, and I’ll leave the city for a nap.”

“But this just won’t do!” Jaquan protested. “Some of your soldiers have families in Houstad, and the brave Ice Fangs own several enterprises. No doubt everyone would like to see the Third arrive in full glory, and this is also a perfect opportunity to show solidarity and unity among the people of our nation.”

“You have a point,” Ravager said, gently touching his back, drawing the mayor to the elevator. “But the Wolf Tribe seldom parades, and I myself will spoil the beautiful day. How about I meet you halfway? I’ll thank the citizens of Houstad for having us, and we’ll cut down on the parade.”

“Cut it short?” asked Jacomie. “Commander Ravager, this is a joyous occasion, and the mayor, the provincial army, the police, and the Investigation Bureau have spent considerable resources to secure the avenue leading to the base. If you respect our efforts in the slightest, then the least you can do to repay our efforts is to comply with the mayor’s idea…”

“Please, Jacomie…” the mayor started.

“Don’t ‘please’ me, Jaquan!” the lieutenant snapped back and stepped closer to Ravager. “Commander, despite our differences, we respect the Third. Your soldiers have just returned from this foolish endeavor; they are weary; the ghosts of the fruitless war no doubt still haunt them. Let them join in the celebration. No one even demands perfect footwork from your soldiers; just be yourself…”

Foolish? Fruitless? The fur rose at the back of Janine’s neck, but she said nothing, suppressing the desire to bite the impertinent female. Is this how the people of the Core Lands feel about their conquests? Thunder Emperor, Blood Graf, Techno-Queen… did they believe these threats would not reach them once they had finished playing with the Outer Lands? There could be no negotiation, no reasoning with someone planning to claim you, only an immediate response to prevent a future calamity from happening in the civilized lands.

She was honored to see the flash of indignation in the eyes of Macarius and Leonidas. But Ravager, surprisingly, reacted kindly, wrapping her second paw around the lieutenant’s back and nodding for the Iternian to follow.

“You won’t like it, believe me,” Ravager mused cheerfully.

“Commander, a show of force will instill a sense of safety…” Jacomie insisted.

“Mayor Jaquan, Lieutenant Jacomie, call me Ravager, please. I am open to negotiations,” Ravager sighed. “I appreciate your efforts to give us a warm welcome. We have something prepared on our side as well. Camelia! Cristobo!”