Chapter 140: Chapter 132: The blue wyrm moves one more piece

The wings carried Ivar over Moon City. Out of bored curiosity, he spied a gathering of wolfkins on a square before the theater. They were busy partying, shouting praises to the winners of their brutish Challenges, engaging in contests of strength, eating, or singing. Minerva did well in confining this rabble of an army to the central square, doubly so because some of the locals started joining the fun.

Good. There is a lot of work ahead of us, but they will bow their heads to the state. In the midst of the exploding fireworks all around him, Ivar's scales briefly turned multicolored. He made a single beat, going higher and leaving the colored explosion below him.

Such strange things these New Years are. The world nearly died, clawed back, looks nothing like the Old World, yet people still celebrate this outdated holiday. To the point where both sides agreed on a ceasefire on this night. Struggle as he might, Ivar could never understand the point of this meaningless dedication.

"Yes, captain?" A chilly voice inquired from the communicator.

"I heard that you were injured, wolf hag," Ivar made a beat with his wings, sending himself gliding across the clouds at a leisurely speed of eight hundred kilometers per hour, "What is your condition?"

"Recovering," Leila hissed back. "Told not to walk or leave the bed for now. No doubt you know this, sir. What is this all about, really?"

"At ease, Leila." Ivar’s eyes saw the first defensive line of bentos.

A simple bunker embedded in the ground, its personnel are currently inspecting a trade caravan from Pearl. They didn’t even have a single heavy assault team member among them, all of these superheavy cyborgs were recalled back to the tribe’s center because of the uproar about King’s ‘death’. It would be a fitting show of force to flatten this pathetic excuse for a defense, but this was not why Ivar was here tonight.

Oh no. He will abide by the rules. Ivar positioned himself before the white disk of a moon, allowing the defenders to see him clearly. The people ran around the bunker, some even activated turrets to aim at him. This, too, was all right. He wanted them to know that he was here.

"Let us speak without ranks, citizen to citizen. "Aranea told me that you have a bright future in the tribe, and I agree," Ivar looked to the left of the bunker, seeing how some stones fell from the cliff of a distant hill. It is coming, "After your transformation, you will become a being unrivaled in the entire Wolf Tribe. Stronger than Alpha and Zero combined. Some would say, strong enough to steer the tribe in the correct direction."

"You would like it, wouldn’t you, old demon? To have another puppet dancing on your strings?" The stubborn woman coldly spilled back, clearly oblivious to the opportunities before her.

Ivar sighed and tried to illuminate this lump of flesh: "Be whoever you want. You can stay the egoistical, self-pitying, angry tool that you are right now."

"Choose your words, old demon, or I am cutting off this communication."

"Or you may ascend and become a person who saves lives," Ivar continued unbothered. He felt conflicted, and this feeling bred hatred in him. There were other tools to work with. Why had he wasted the time to save this drooling, cowardly lump of flesh? "By now, you are partially or fully aware of the cruel traditions behind the Wolf Tribe and about their almost divine reverence before the strong. I admit, it was a humiliating and unexpected turn of events that the wolfkins would accept an outsider like you into their ranks, but now we are presented with an opportunity. You and I can change them."

"And make them into your servants?" Leila mocked him.

"Into the state’s servants," He allowed a hint of steel to creep into his voice, "Leila, you are an adult woman right now, surely you can choke down your feelings about me a bit and look at the situation clearly. Minerva serves under my wing. Is she looks evil to you? The answer is no. Serving me doesn’t mean becoming like me," He sensed her hesitation and pressed on. "Believe me or not, but I owe everything to commander Ravager. She had saved me from my father, not unlike Aranea saved you from me. Surely you can see a connection here? I would never purposly harm commander Ravager or her kin; I must see them prosper for the sake of repaying my debt, to see them take the rightful prosperous future that they earned a hundred times over."

"See them prosper?" Leila asked quietly, "Like you have seen me prosper? Like you have seen the soultaker’s capital prosper? Like you have seen my mother…"

"Don’t you dare pile your sins on me!" Ivar snapped back, feeling rage rising in him. The worst thing was that this lump of flesh wasn’t unjustified in her mistrust of him. He messed up. First, the capital. Second, with Jekaterina, the sudden involvement of the new foes threw his careful calculation out the window. But hearing this... parasite borne from his carelessly spilled sperm disparage his devotion to his dearest, to the only woman who truly made him smile, was too much to bear.

Thankfully, the event that he had been waiting for happened. The ground before the bunker exploded upward, sending chunks of stone and concrete, each weighing no less than several tons, falling down on the bunker in a cascade of destruction. The traders, a caravan of six trucks and four armored vehicles, screamed, seeing doom fall on them.

"What are these sounds and screams?!" Leila demanded to know, "Fa… Ivar, where are you? What are you doing?!"

He ignored her bleating, focusing on people below. They could not bother with fear, no deaths, safe for one, were in Ivar’s plans tonight. The water appeared above the bunker and vehicles, catching the falling rubble and throwing it aside. Hearing the roaring sound of the working turrets, he looked at the newcomer.

The towering body was coming from the hole, reaching higher and higher, accompanied by the sound of demolishing stone and buildings. Countless black chitinous plates covered the segmented body. Numerous sickle-like legs twitched, while the sand reaper leaned forward, looking at the bunker with pitch-black eyes, tracing every movement, every single bullet, and every laser beam fired against it.

The bullets harmlessly crashed against chitinous plates, leaving not even a crack. The laser beam dissipated against the armor that was meant to endure traveling through magma. Four gigantic mandibles, each matching the length of the defensive bunker, spread wide in anticipation of the feast.

The sand reaper came here for one purpose only. It was not to feed on the traders or cyborgs, they were the gnats compared to the mighty creature reaching fifty meters in length. The people here would not even be able to serve as appetizers. No, the reason for its presence was the trucks. The traders were carrying a true rarity to the Bento Tribe. Sugar—over two hundred tons of it. The moment Ivar learned about this caravan, he decided to follow it, knowing full well what would happen in the absence of the heavy assault team.

Ivar looked with a minor amusement at how the defenders were firing everything they got into this massive creature, trying to buy time for the traders to leg it. An admirable showing of duty, all things considered. The insect cast its shadow at the tracks, preparing to burrow into them and eat the metal, along with everyone around it. At this very moment, one of the cyborgs shouted a plea for help, and the wyrm moved.

Gliding through the air, he crashed into the tower of chitin, pushing the oversized centipede back. Even he, for all his size, looked small compared to this being. His tail struck on, amputating a dozen sharp insectoid legs and eliciting a chirp of rage from this monster.

The creature coiled around him, and Ivar hissed, feeling one of the legs pierce the flesh between his scales and his back.

"Ivar, talk to me!" Leila demanded, "Are you hurt? What are these sounds…"

"Merely working out." The blue wyrm told her, severing the connection. He had planted the seeds of doubt in Leila. He will nurture them later.

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Ivar engaged in melee with this foe for a simple reason. He was getting rusty. He had failed to kill King, and in his later battle with the weird creature, it took him too long to end it. No more, he relied on his power far too much.

Feeling dozens of legs pierce his scales and feeling the creature bite on his shoulder, followed by the injection of dissolving poison into his body, Ivar let go of his usual elegance, returning to the barbaric nature that he left behind. The clawed arms tore away the mandibles. His wings and arms pushed, breaking the coiled hold over his body with a thunderous sound of broken chitin plates all around him.

The blue wyrm felt his heart racing, the blood flowed faster and faster across his veins, joined by adrenaline that brought a surge of renewed strength. Ivar refused to take to the sky, grasping the insect head with two arms and mounting himself behind it. The sand reaper thrashed, trying to shake him off in futility. Ivar’s blood painted some of his azure scales red, acidic ichor pouring from the cracks in the creature’s body covered both of them in acrid fog.

The blue wyrm looked to be a deity or a demonic creature plucked from the pages of an ancient tale. His claws sank deep into the sand reaper’s head, liquidating compound eyes into nothingness. A fierce grin was on his lips, while Ivar tried his best to twist the head away. As two fighters ravaged the surroundings near the bunker, his legs pushed into the upper part of the creature's body, maintaining a firm grip.

And finally, the neck snapped. The creature went limp, falling to the ground and sending a new sandstorm into the skies. Ivar stepped out of it, carrying the head in his paw. His wings were slightly torn, the blood coming from his wounds created pools of blood around his legs. But none of this was significant or life-threatening.

One of the cyborgs stepped forth, bowing to the captain and offering her thanks for salvation. Ivar threw the head to the ground, fighting off barbaric impulses.

"It's always a pleasure to assist." He smiled to the traders’ cheers and made a bow.

"Can we help you somehow?" The officer asked, taking off her helmet, "Treat your wounds, maybe call your side to help you get back?"

"Thank you, but no," Ivar looked at her. Proper manners in this backwater and no fear of him. What a nice surprise. Hopefully this officer will survive being his unsuspecting tool, "I only asked for a single thing. Soon, Tlaltzin will undoubtedly recall you. Ask him this. ‘Why did you let them die?’ Do this, and this debt is no more. Now, I wish you a happy new year and bid you adieu."

Ivar jumped in the air, beating his wings with full force, flying, a little bit clumsily, toward Moon City. Naturally, he wasn’t relying on just one messenger. He had already orchestrated a swath of many more. He took his time interrogating the captured flesh carver and elder, forming a psychological portrait of their remaining foe, learning and deducing what makes him tick. One or more will reach the elder’s ear and say the words that will hasten an end to this war. No need to leave anything to Scorpio, after all.

Ivar. A soundless call boomed across the rocky plains, flowed over a few hills, reached into every crack and ravine. The blue wyrm bowed his head in acknowledgment, flying toward the caller. Ivan, stupid, soft, gentle Ivan was waiting for him, leaning against a mountain range.

Brother. Ivar swooped down onto the ground. They spoke through the mind speech, leaving no chance for anyone to overhear them.

I am in anguish, Ivar. The golden eyes found him. The recon teams returned from the soultakers’ lands. The capital… It is the smoldering ruins. So many lives had been lost… Images came before Ivar’s eyes. Hundreds of people hang from every blackened tower. The streets were covered with the dead—children and adults alike. Marauders were sweeping through the destroyed city, preying on the weak, followed closely by the Cartel’s scum in search of easy slaves. Museums and works of art, precious beyond all worth, were reduced to ash.

I will fix this. Ivar swore to himself. Ravager would be rightfully disgusted with him now. It was his duty, his sacred duty, to lessen civilian casualties in any way he could. And he had failed. He will help the survivors in any way he can.

The fault lies with me and me alone, Ivan. I failed to predict King’s intentions.

There are no great intentions behind his movements! The golden wyrm stood up, spreading his wings. Ivar expected an outburst of anger, a mighty hit to remind him of their father… Instead, a soothing calm fell onto him, helping him ignore the pain of his wounds. Ivar, there are… You are starting to make mistakes. This war took a toll on you. Ivan looked at his brother with love and care.

I know that there is something that we are still missing. King is losing on purpose.

Ivar. Enough. Look at yourself, bleeding all over because of a scramble in the middle of nowhere. Brother. Reflect on your actions, think closely about all you have done in this war. The golden wyrm raised a finger, stopping the arguments. You saved thousands. Over the course of your life, you preserved the lives of millions. Between us, you are the greater ruler, I do not dispute this. I respect and love you like no other person. But now you are slipping and trying to turn it all around by pointing at a nonexistent plot that will exonerate you of all guilt. There is no plot, there are no hidden motives—just plain human stupidity. King ended up being pettier and more foolish than we had expected, that’s all there is. We failed. Not you, not Scorpio. You showed me the plans, and I approved them. The guilt lies with me before anyone else. Go back to the Wastes, rule over it in my stead, while I am busy here. Be my herald, my own champion in bettering the lives of the state’s citizens. Find anything you can about these mysterious guests. If my deductions are correct, they were behind the kidnapping of ice fangs’ cubs, and they certainly were behind Alsyn’s attack. Trice they had hurt us unprovoked. I want to see them dead.

Of course, brother. Ivar bowed his head. Ivan, poor, little, trusting Ivan. Ivar and Scorpio only consulted with him about their biggest plans, not about countless small decisions. Ivan’s gentle heart could never bear the weight of full responsibility as a ruler.

I know that you have been talking to Leila. Ivar's blood chilled as he saw the massive head stop an inch from his own face. Twin suns looked into his very soul, demanding his attention. Yes, Ivar, my ears are not just for show, nor am I a fool. If you ever hurt my niece again, physically or otherwise, I will kill you. Is that clear, brother?

Crystal clear, sir.

The blue wyrm returned to the city shortly after, leaving his brother sleeping in the open. He had little doubt that Ivan had his own guards near him, and his superior senses would warn him if any sand reaper tried to chew on him. And lastly, there was a familiar smell in the mountains. Ivan was the commander’s responsibility. And quite often, he wasn’t as alone as he seemed.

He was taken aback when he noticed Leila standing in front of the hospital, dressed in a hospital gown, and holding one hand against her bandaged belly.

"Wolf hag. Weren’t you supposed to be confined to your bed?" Ivar tilted his head, and blood dripped from his shoulder, splashing against the concrete.

"Ivar," Leila breathed heavily, looking him over, "We weren’t finished talking, and I decided to go and see what’s going on with you. Care to have a small talk?"

Ivar raised a brow, before picking up the idiot with one hand and carrying her to the hospital guards. And then he did something that he never thought he would do. While he sat outside of the hospital, waiting for medics to clear his wounds of dirt and poison, he started a small talk with Leila, answering her questions about the dearest.

Could I be the one who is wrong about King? Ivar reflected, off-handedly telling Leila about how he met her mother. For some reason, he didn’t feel like nudging the wolf hag toward the favorable outcome right now. Ivar decided that he was simply too tired.

No. It is everyone else who is wrong.

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