Chapter 535: Book 8-19.2: Unusual Allies

Kassy froze for a long moment when she heard the Verdanians begin the attack.

‘It hasn’t been ten minutes yet!’ she thought furiously, but then, it didn’t matter much. All that happened was that they would draw more attention away from the family.

Her nose twitched as she caught her partner’s scent. Roland was a wolf-kin, of the A’sungit tribe, and he was almost as good at sneaking around as she was. He was in his wolf form at the moment but could shift to his hybrid war form in the blink of an eye. Behind them were half a dozen of the family, though all weaker than she and Roland. Younger, too, but that was to be expected. They were only at the Artisan level, unlike the two of them who were full Fighters.

The sentries facing them started to look towards the west. The only light came from the campfire in the middle of the wagon circle and no one was foolish enough to make a target of themselves by carrying a light source. Any night watchman would be competent enough to know some kind of vision-enhancing technique. That didn’t matter against the family though. Even if they couldn’t use their Animus externally, long practice and talent made stalking and sneaking incredibly easy for them.

Kassy managed to come within a couple of paces of the sentry without the man even noticing, though it was also probably because they were distracted.

With a power lunge, Kassy’s form shifted midleap, and her fingers swiped underneath the guard’s helm, catching the windpipe with an extended claw. Blood gushed out of the gaping wound as the sentry tried desperately to stem the flow. Kassy loped past him, already in her war form. Her nose twitched as she caught the scent of their captured tribeswoman, Tuska. She was inside the second wagon to the right.

Behind her, Roland and the pups and kittens took down the other sentries, though not as quietly as she could have. Thankfully, the Verdanians had provided a splendid distraction. Kassy, despite herself, found her thoughts lingering over Yuriko Davar.

Aside from the fact that Yuriko was absolutely gorgeous, Kassy could see under her hood even though she tried to hide her face; her scent was also incredibly tantalising. Kassy likened it to a cat just about to go into heat, but held back at the cusp. Frustrating and enticing at the same time.

Shaking her head, she took out another sentry before the woman could react. Leaving the body gurgling on the sand, Kassy looked across the campfire and found the Verdanians engaged in battle. She saw Yuriko killing the guards by the dozen, miniature glowing blades hovering by her side.

“Huh, so she really is a Sorceress,” Kassy muttered.

Her ears twitched as she heard someone rushing at her. The guard had a short spear and a buckler, wearing leather and chainmail armour. He rushed at her, point aimed at Kassy’s heart. With a casual glance, she caught the spearhead with her bare hand. The sharp metal should have cut her palm, but her skin was as tough as iron. She twisted her wrist, and either the metal would break or the guard would lose his grasp. A moment later, with a desperate gasp, the guard scrambled to draw his sidearm, a long knife. But he looked away from Kassy at that moment, and in an instant, she flipped the short spear and grabbed it by the haft, then she flung it at the guard. The spearhead crunched through his armour, and stuck out of his back.

She loped towards the prison wagon containing her sister. But as she came close, her nose twitched and she stared at a seemingly empty shadow.

“Show yourself!” she hissed.

“That’s so cute…” A woman with tawny hair and yellow eyes revealed herself as the shadows pulled back. She smiled. “We are on the same side as you’ve made a deal with my young mistress.”

Kassy nodded hesitantly, noting the almost feline features the woman had. “That wagon holds my sister.”

The woman smiled. “And my mistress’ friend.”

She strolled towards the locks and touched them. Shadowy stuff crept from her fingers and penetrated the mechanism, then a couple of moments later, the lock fell apart. It didn’t open but just got dismantled.

The woman pulled the door open, looked at Kassy, then swept a bow. “After you.”

With Tuska’s musk thick in the air, Kassy leapt into the wagon, only to be hit with the stench of unwashed and desperate bodies. Her eyes swept to the sides, where the prisoners were manacled and chained to hooks. Kassy immediately zeroed in on her packmate.

Tuska was a wolf-kin just like Roland, and unlike the others in the prison wagon, she wasn’t just manacled. No, her entire body was wrapped in chains. Animus empowered chains, from what Kassy could sniff out.

Tuska’s brown eyes widened as she saw Kassy, and she shifted and tried to get the chains off her. The chains tightened by themselves and left Tuska gasping for breath.

“The… Master Binder…” she managed to gasp.

Kassy growled in anger. She reached for the chains, her razor-sharp claws gleaming. Tuska shook her head but stilled her movements.

The tip of her claw slipped into a chain link and Kassy pushed at one end, then pulled at another. Her claws, which were sharp enough to cut steel, and tough enough to survive without breaking, couldn’t do a thing.

“Stubborn rotter!” she growled in frustration.

The Verdanian woman walked up beside her, and Kassy pleaded. “Can you get these off her?”

“I can’t. My Animus isn’t strong enough. I’d be drained before this comes off.”

“Then what can we do?”

“Kill the Binder,” Tuska growled.

“Easier said than done,” Kassy hissed.

“Then are you just going to stand there?” Tuska whimpered.

“No,” Kassy sighed.

She glanced back and saw that every other prisoner was loose and running away. She stared at Tuska’s bindings one more time before she sighed and loped towards the door.

“Wait!” Tuska yelled.

“Huh?” Kassy glanced back, and her eyes widened when her sister was suddenly able to flex and crack the chains.

“The bindings weakened! Hurry, help me out of it!”

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Kassy ran back, and with a swipe that she committed all of her weight and strength to, the chains snapped. Tuska slithered out of them and they both rushed to the entrance.

“Why did it weaken, though?” Kassy muttered. And the answer shoved itself to her face as soon as they got out.

The Master Binder had summoned all of his might, and was battling Yuriko. And he was winning.

_____________

The start of any battle always left Heron in a state of anxiety. His primary Facet was a floating shield, and his main duty was keeping his allies protected, and nothing quite screamed unsafe as charging into battle.

He had missed this, he realised. Fighting on the frontlines against foes at his level. Not like what he’d been tasked to do in Faron’s Crossing, where he either stood guard for hours at a time with nothing to do or fought Federation militia, who were, more often than not, unawakened or at the bare minimum. That feeling of guilt and unwillingness to fight those weaker than he was, in terms of Anima strength, was a common phenomenon, according to Professor Charlene Antiga from his classes in Agaza Academy.

Anima Pride. Or Arrogance, as some called it. It was born from how Animus reacted to Intent, perception, and of course, ambient Chaos. It felt like bullying children. Part of their class curriculum was learning how to temper and overcome that particular affliction, but it was never pleasant. But pride and arrogance often led to overconfidence, which could lead to mistakes and failure.

Yuriko occupied most of the attention from the guards, something he really wasn’t comfortable with, except he had to adapt to his circumstances as all the wishing in the planes won’t amount to anything.

Unless he was a Sorcerer.

He stepped towards a group and thrust with his collapsible spear. The point dug into the woman’s guts, and she grasped it in surprise. He pushed her off the point with his hardened air shield and deflected an attack from another guard, a young man this time.

His physical strength had grown by leaps and bounds, but he was still nowhere near Yuriko’s level. That was fine, he was slowly catching up. He thrust at another guard who sidestepped and closed in to strike. Heron whipped the spear haft and used it to club the side of the man’s head, dropping him to the sandy ground.

Using a spear properly means using the pointy end.

Armsmaster Byrne’s voice echoed in his head even as he winced. The collapsible nature of his weapon meant that the haft wasn’t really sturdy against sideways forces, so there was a dent in the shape of the man’s head near the tip. Animus reinforcement could only do so much, and when he had it collapse to the size of a dagger, the mechanism hitched and wouldn’t close fully.

The next moment, two guards took notice of him, and more importantly, they didn’t rush at him. Instead, they yelled and drew more attention. Four of them rushed at him, and he found himself feeling the same discomfort as before. Most of these people were unawakened.

With a sigh, he launched himself forward, scrunching his shoulders together and braced two air shields against it. He pushed, and wedged their formation apart. He braced his legs and pressed, then dashed, his momentum bowled over the guards, who yelled and scrambled away.

Lightning, black and red, flickered all around him, inexplicably curving away from his body only to strike at the guard next to him. Heron pushed against another group, toppling them over, if not flinging them away outright. He felt a heavy thud and the feeling of someone tapping him from behind. When he looked, a guard held out a broken truncheon in his hand, gaping at him. Heron backhanded him across the jaw and knocked him out flat.

“The wagon ten paces to your right.”

Asami’s voice tickled his ear and Heron turned. Amidst the fiery destruction Yuriko spread using her floaty golden blades, the wagons were looking a bit deserted. Except for the whimpering that floated out of the barred windows.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sheamus duelling with another guard. An Adept, he assumed, considering how well she fared against the foreigner scout. Sheamus, for his part, danced around with a dagger in reverse grip held out in front of him. He jabbed it at the Adept’s eyes, who flinched and jerked despite the fact that those attacks were obvious feints. Then, while she was distracted, Sheamus shot a bolt of incandescent light from his finger, which hit the guard on her leg. With a high-pitched scream, she fell on her knees clutching at her wound, only for Sheamus to stab her in the back.

Heron placed himself next to the wagon’s door. There was a heavy lock securing it, but it didn’t seem to deter Braden. The feistier Foster twin inserted the tip of his finger into the keyhole, crossed his eyes in focus even as black lightning flickered across his digits. A few moments later, there was an audible click and the padlock opened.

“How’d you do that?” Heron couldn’t help but ask.

“Well if you push the insides a little bit until it lines up with all the tumblers…” He winked.

“Right.”

Orrin pulled the door open and peeked inside. “He’s here! Come on, you need to break open the manacles.”

“Coming right up,” Braden climbed up while Heron waited outside.

Shaking his head with some amusement, Heron half wondered why he didn’t want to kill those two anymore. The strange intensity they had for Yuriko had toned down, somewhat, and more importantly, perhaps it was because he had changed.

Speaking of Yuriko, she was right smack in the middle of the camp, fighting a guy with prehensile chains. They exchanged middle-range attacks, and it looked like she was going to win easily. He looked back and saw the twins had managed to release their friend and the other prisoners. That was good.

Huh?

What was that feeling?

He turned back to the fight, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the twins do the same. Chains wrapped around Yuriko, while her opponent looked wounded. A closer look revealed that he was practically made of metal. She struggled as the enemy slowly constricted her.

“No…”

NO!

He lunged towards the chain-user, his hexagonal shields gathered towards himself. He wasn’t the only one. Black and red lighting flew from the twins’ outstretched hands, and they twisted and entangled, right before striking. And behind the enemy, the cat beastkin, along with two others, struck. All of their attacks rained on the metal man, but he knew that wasn’t enough. And he was right.

Then, Radiant light burst out from his entangled goddess, and the night turned to day.

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