Three-Eyes growled, rattling Liron. He dug his fingers into his fur. He hated when the wolf did this. They waited, ten minutes having passed. The beast was not fond of sitting around, baring his fangs. Zonis had to talk to him, calming him. But for how much longer would he accept this?
Liron, Gabriella, and Zonis each sat on a wolf. The pack consisted of five members now, the other two behind them. Unlike the minks, Three-Eyes offered more to grip onto. They hadn't crafted a saddle for the wolves as they lacked the time. But neither of them would have accepted one to be stripped to their back.
The wolves weren't truly tamed. Zonis had described their relationship as an allyship. The pack owed them their lives, but this alone wasn't enough. They expected rich prey from this attack. The pack would devour the fallen enemies. On their own, they couldn't win against Adenius and his men, but working alongside Liron and the Resistance, they had a chance. The death of the innocent brought them a glee that Liron couldn't understand. The wildness had taught them no empathy. Everything outside the pack was to be considered a threat or a meal. Ekon offered many wonders but most were of a violent nature. The first law above all others. The stronger will life. To lose means to die.
The deal with the wolves was a shaky one. They had beaten them into submission, but Three-Eyes and his wolves started to forget the mercy shown towards them. They were still beasts. Their instincts ruled them still, and they saw death and betrayal beyond all corners. Liron hadn't shown them an alternative. He had earned neither their trust nor their friendship. His moment of tenderness with Three-Eyes was real. A connection that could have been. Given time, his former enemy might have become his loyal friend. One he could rely on always.
His nerves were neither friend of his nor something to rely on. Liron's forehead glittered, drenched in sweat. His greasy hair had lost all volume, sticking to his head. He had opened the collar of his shirt, struggling to breathe. After clashing all throughout Kupferrang with his enemies, he had hoped to have grown from it. None of his skirmishes had required waiting beforehand, imagining how he could fail. Thousands of scenarios of how he made an ass of himself, dying in cruel and ridiculous ways. The laughing face of Kasper above him, mocking him in parting moments, echoed throughout all of them.
Angin's speech, as lacking as it was, had boosted his morale. The effect had worn off. To stay sharp, Angin had brewed him the potion he had drunk when they drove towards Kupferrang. All exhaustion would vanish, and his focus would clear. His fingers brushed over the bottle's lid, scratching at it. He had to wait for the sign.
Though, he feared he wouldn't keep it down. His stomach felt like he had eaten hot coal, burning his insides. Liron danced on the edge of adorning Three-Eyes' back in vomit. His bladder rebelled against him, too. He had gotten to the bathroom before heading out, but he still feared he might soil himself in the middle of the fight. Not that this would be a new experience. It took him an eternity to wash the stench out of his hair after he woke from the battle against Kasper and Anna. How long would it take Three-Eyes to cleanse himself from Liron's shame. If there was any doubt left, their potential friendship would die at this moment.
Kupferrang was empty. The city had suffered greatly in the last two days. The signs for the horror lay scattered around them. Liron kept his eyes forward, never glancing down. He might spot the dead otherwise. Though the wolves licked all the gore they could find off the ground, giving the innocent their last rites. These folk would never know a proper burial. Their loved ones would never say their goodbyes like how they were owed. But all their loved ones rested alongside them, though. Who was left to mourn them?
The ones that still drew breath, trapped under Adenius' influence, had gathered at the marketplace in the bureau's shadow. They were a few blocks away, but they could hear the echoes of the celebration. The Hunters roared, chanting something. Their choir ceased, and a single voice spoke. Enhanced by his mask, Adenius started his speech. Liron pricked up his ears, but he couldn't make out any details.
The thought of the man alone pumped hot iron through his veins. His anger rose, but Liron had learned his lesson. He steadied his breathing, exchanging a look with his companion. Zonis appeared tense, but his experience numbed the distress Liron struggled with. In his years, he had shaken hands with Sister Death, but he had always escaped her grasp. Gabriella examined her nails. She sighed, sharing the restlessness of the beast she was sitting on. Hearing the speech start, she smiled bright.
That was the signal.
Liron downed the bottle, his senses coming to new life. Energy flooded his limbs, demanding to be spent until collapse. He pressed himself into Three-Eyes. The wolf raised his head, his ears standing up. The air crackled, Angin's Machina hissing like Drom's fiercest soldiers. Flames roared, and the Machina shot forward. Liron caught glimpses of it flying towards the marketplace, but he couldn't focus on it.
Zonis howled, and the pack shot forward. Liron kept low, hugging Three-Eyes. The wolf would not stop should he fall off. And the beast darted forward, instincts silencing all but what he needed for the hunt. Zonis and his wolf led them. He told his wolf how to move, having memorized the route they were supposed to take.
While paling in comparison, riding Three-Eyes reminded Liron of flying on Illaxia's back. The speed, the freedom. His hair whirled in the wind. He could forget his dread for all but a moment. The wolves carried them close to the marketplace within a minute. His euphoria died as he heard the sounds of the battle.
A cacophony of violence, Magic, Alchemy, and Ragner slamming against one another. Liron recognized Angin's attacks immediately. He knew the roars of his master's blasting rod and staff all too well. The first debris shot skywards, and something glittered on a house surrounding the marketplace. A singular ice pillar. Or the remnants of it.
Liron gulped. She was here then.
They reached the house wall encircling the marketplace. There were several openings they could have chosen to attack, but Zonis steered them further. They needed to create an exit leading towards the bureau. As they hurried past it, Liron saw pieces of the battle. Kasper and Anna were there, fighting Ragner and Jean. The Kin and the Homunculus fought well together. The styles shared the same nature. Brutish and direct despite their apparent intellect. They must have trained together. This was not their bout side by side. That much Liron could determine. Angin was battling the assassin, Emma behind him. Liron made a fist, cursing to himself. Seeing her fired him up more than the elixir. He wanted nothing more than to abandon their plan and reach her. But he was no fucking fool.
Aning wore his trump card. An armor fashioned after his gloves. Though it resembled another layer of clothing. A cloak, a long-sleeved shirt, pants, and boots of green. Liron knew little of what it did, but Angin had explained it would keep him alive for longer. The Nanium moved around his body, flowing like a river. He took several spells from the assassins, his Nanium shielding him from the strings.
Hundreds of people stood around the marketplace, watching the fight. Was that all that was left of Kupferrang? Liron only saw their backs, but each figure swayed, their legs weak and struggling to carry them. They would collapse soon. Thousands of people had died in the Raven Hunt, but this crowd was too small. Adenius had done something to the rest. The wolves eyed the masses, growling. Their instincts told them what to do, but they followed Zonis' command. For now.
The few slices of the fight Liron saw, he noticed something. Kasper and the assassin weren't fighting together. The Lordschaft threw a strike or two at her when a window for such presented itself to him. The assassin responded in kind, keen to kill both Kasper and Angin. This battle wasn't between two sides but three.
Kasper and Anna hadn't recovered fully from the reprocessing center. Their faces were covered in bruises, and their motions lacked the same fluidity that Liron had weathered. Did this mean that they weren't working with Adenius? Or were they on the same side, but the Inquisitor had no Alchemist on his side to treat the two? Too many questions without answers.
Liron had a few more he wanted to ask himself, but he forgot them all as a figure smashed onto Three-Eyes head. He had jumped down from a roof above, and four more followed, all landing on one of the wolves.
How many stories had he heard of these abominations? How many posters had depicted them fighting under Julius Kraft, their master and leader, the best of them. Beings of freakish strength and a thirst for war. Only the most devout soldiers of the Golden Procession would volunteer to become one of them. Trapped in a stage between man and Sinner, filled with holy wrath that demanded blood in the name of Harras Himself.
Adenius had unleashed his Wrathlings on them
The features of the man the Wrathling used to be were still visible. But the man's body had expanded, his frame carrying muscles that were meant for a beast. He wore shreds of pants and nothing else. Rage twisted his face, allowing no other emotions. Only Ragner could match them in size. But even the Kin could not surpass them. Golden veins spread throughout his body, threads to keep his body from growing further.
The Wrathling snarled at Liron. The warrior had forgotten all language, buried underneath his wrath. Angin had guessed Adenius had some of them hidden away. All Inquisitors of higher ranking utilized Wrathlings as bodyguards. For a mission like this, he would need more than the usual amount an Inquisitor is granted.
Three-Eyes shook his head around, trying to throw the Wrathling off. But the berserker didn't let go. He buried his meaty hands into the wolf's fur, roaring at the beast. Gabriella was the first to act. She summoned her Conduit. Her wolf leaped out of the shadows of a house, biting down hard on the Wrathling in front of her. The shadow fangs failed to penetrate the warrior's flesh, having his legs in its maw. But her Conduit had enough grip on the monster to pull it off, dragging it off the wolf Gabriella was riding on.
Zonis engaged his Wrathling, his fingers changing into daggers. Liron caught glimpses of Qilesh fighting with his Wrathling, constantly twisting his body to avoid his strikes. He didn't watch their bozt further, eyes on his intruder.
Three-Eyes thrashed his head around, but the Wrathling refused to be discarded. It raised one arm, a hammer ready to be slammed down. Liron opened his mouth, spitting out clouds of smoke. Three-Eyes noticed Liron's spell, keeping its head steady so the Wrathling could enjoy the dark clouds.
The berserker coughed, snarling. As he swung his arm around, expelling the smoke, Liron summoned his black blade in his right hand. He couldn't use both, but one had to suffice. He increased the length of the blade and slashed down at the Wrathling. The sword hit him in the neck, rattling the warrior. For the first time, his Conduit failed to cut an opponent. The hau was flawed. Performed with one arm and from a bad position. The attack lacked the usual rotation. Nonetheless, his edge should sever. The Wrathling's muscles strained, but they endured.
The warrior slapped the blade away from him, eyes digging into Liron. The hau had hurt, enraging the monster further. Forgetting the wolf, the Wrathling leaped at Liron. The wolves had slowed down, but they were still hurrying forward. Liron whispered his finest curses to himself and shoved himself upwards. A fist meant to break missed him, but not by much. The wind hissed, revealing what ferocity was behind this simple attack. Even with a sturdier body than before, Liron would fail to take more than one of these strikes.
Liron struggled to keep a strong stance, planting his feet into Three-Eyes back. He couldn't dodge around as he wanted. As the Wrathling went for the next strike, Liron pointed his left hand at him, a gush of smoke erupting from his fingers. They hit the warrior in the face. Blinded and suffocating, the berserker moved forward nonetheless.
His strikes were savage. He raged, no thought behind his assault. Liron moved step by step, as little as possible. The reprocessing center had taught him well. Instead of continuing to shoot smoke at his opponent, Liron used what he had cast. He commanded the dark clouds to stick to the Wrathling's head, moving with him. Given enough time, he could have killed the berserker this way, but Liron lacked the skill to further command his smoke.
The warrior scratched at his head, failing to dispel the smoke. Realizing his failure, the Wrathling abandoned all self-preservation, throwing his arms around. There was little space to maneuver, and the berserker knew his enemy to be nearby. Liron ducked underneath a strike, stabbing the Wrathling in the gut.
Again, his blade didn't penetrate his muscle. The Wrathling twitched, his hand jerking forward. With his attack, Liron had told him where he was. He took a gamble, jumping onto Three-Eyes' shoulder. Liron vanished his Conduit, burying his fingers into the wolf's fur. For a fleeting second, he didn't know whether he would slip off his ride. Whispering his deepest apologies to Emma, Liron clenched up. He found a stable hold. He could have cried. Using all his strength he had, Liron sprung on Three-Eyes' neck.
Alone, he wouldn't win against this thing. But he had an ally in the beast they fought on. Liron summoned his blade again, slashing into the Wrathling's back. His sword left behind a red line. It would fester into a nasty bruise. One to haunt him for weeks. The berserker groaned, turning towards Liron. Good. The wolf couldn't help much without the fight continuing near its maw.
But before the Wrathling could fall for his trap, he straightened up, all aggression gone. He leaped off Three-Eye's back. The force of the jump destroyed Liron's spell, his smoke evaporating. His brethren followed suit, all abandoning their battle. None of them had done serious damage to any of the wolves.
Liron frowned, sitting down on Three-Eyes. He searched the surrounding area. They had arrived at the promised spot, a massive street crossing, allowing the thickest and busiest traffic. A connection point between the bureau and the marketplace. But instead of being near the Inquisition's headquarters, Adenius was on a common house's roof. He sat on top of a mountain lion. A massive beast. It paled in size compared to a wolf, but its presence alone convinced Liron that it would be victorious in a direct clash. A younger man stood next to him, wearing the armor of a Warpriest. Unlike the ones who had visited Eisenrahm, he wore a lesser version of their armor and garments. Sharing the same war qualities but lacking the same imposing nature. An apprentice, Liron guessed.
But apprentice or not, he was a Warpriest.
"Listen to me, brothers in arms," he said. He held a strange staff in front of his face. A Machina that enhanced his voice. He held the opened holy scripture in front of him. "We all serve our heavenly father, Harras Himself. Today we must fight as one. Today, we will strike down Drom's Scion. Ravenson."
Bland and lacking any charisma. Liron stopped listening, watching Adenius. The Inquisitor pulled out a golden baton. While Liron found nothing special in the man's speech, Harras did. A golden veil appeared around Adenius' shoulders, letting his baton shine bright. A flicker of his hands, a wave of the tip, and Liron felt thousands of eyes on him. The masses around the marketplace finally moved. Towards them. But there was more.
Scattered through the buildings, he noticed movement. Human figures stumbled outside. Now Liron knew where the rest of the city had gone.
They hadn't died. They had waited.