The Chieftess

Chapter 111: Chapter 100 – strength or weakness


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 A cool breeze stroked over the head of the Chiefess. Muttering to herself, she nuzzled her face into Charlie’s jacket. Her eyes were fixated on a communication crystal and a blank sheet of paper.

 

“Your majesty,” The gentle voice of Nolkonoe whispered into her ear. Jumping slightly, she turned to look at her. Using her tail to gently smack Nolkonoe on the side, she spoke.

 

“Yes?” A downtrodden tone filled her voice.

 

“We have word that counters communication post is set up, and now the warriors are in place to begin the second phase,” Nolkonoe reported, her fingers gently running her the stump where her hand once was.

 

“Thank you,” The Chiefess answered as she turned her gaze back to the paper.

 

It was meant for emergencies. When Charlie had left, she had thought he wouldn’t need it. Despite her hate of Ourupadia, there was still respect amongst them for each other’s strength and battle capabilities.  As well as their mutual love for him. Yet still, the feeling of worry held her heart. Burying her face down again into her jacket of Charlie.

 

Sighing, Nolkonoe moved to her side. Placing a gentle hand onto her shoulder, Nolkonoe turned the Chiefess to face her. Gently, Nolkonoe wiped the hair of the Chiefess to the side. Leaning down, she placed a kiss on her forehead. It was best to keep her calm, but ever since yesterday she had been panicking.

 

Nolkonoe had felt it as well, but decided it was best to keep her fear hidden. She didn’t want to spread this dread though, she decided to suppress it.

 

“Your majesty,” Nolkonoe began before the Chiefess cut her off.

 

“I know I shouldn’t worry, but… it felt so real! His pain, suffering, his ambition… I just can’t ignore that Nolkonoe! I still think I should have gone with the Huntresses,” Etasose said, her words slightly muffled as she cuddled her face against Charlie’s jacket still. Moving closer to Nolkonoe, she placed a soft hand on her head and began to gently rub her tall ears.

 

“It will be fine, I am sure,” Nolkonoe stopped as a flood of air flowed over her hair. A beam of light fired down into the crystal on the paper. The light pooled over the paper. As the light dissipated, the Chiefess leapt onto the paper. Silence held the room as her hands trembled. Standing, she turned and began to move past Nolkonoe and towards the door.

 

“Umm…. your majesty?” Nolkonoe muttered, her eyes shaking as she saw the blank expression on the Chiefess’s face.

 

“Get all available warriors, and my best short sword… and my skinning knife,” Nolkonoe picked up the piece of paper as the Chiefess left. Immediately upon leaving, she began to scream orders to the tribe. Glancing over the paper, Nolkonoe’s eyes widened before daring out of the door to assist in rallying all available fighters.

 

Forgers dropped their work while remaining huntresses quickly began to break open their armouries to give out their weapons. Weapons were only ever used by the Huntresses.

 

“Pycleia is going to yell at me!” a Huntress moaned as she allowed Forgers to sweep in and begin arming themselves with bows and quivers of arrows.

 

What warriors and vultures remained also quickly began to arm the large group of Forgers with easy-to-use weapons such as native spears, short swords and shields. By the time Nolkonoe had even a unit of fighters gathered, the Chiefess was already mounted upon her Desert Strider. From the temple, a woman ran franticly through the village and to the side of the Chiefess. Panting, the woman offered up a long piece of cloth.

 

Leaning down and taking it from the woman, she peered inside before grimacing.

 

“Meet me with as many reinforcements as you can!” Etasose yelled to Nolkonoe as she turned and began to ride. Fear struck Nolkonoe as she saw the Chiefess charging off alone. But before she could speak or beg for her to see reason, she saw the glimpse of a knife under the cloth as she rode. The knife of her mother.

 

 

Another explosion shook the ground. His blood hands pressed down against the back of Ourupadia as he kept whipping his head around to stare at the communication paper for a response. Nothing. There was no response now for an hour. Vultures applied as much magic as they could to Ourupadia as they pulled large chunks of metal from her back. The problem lay with how much blood she was losing.

 

The Vultures managed to stop the bleeding in many areas, but if they wanted to remove the metal the buckets of blood would again begin to pour. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he held his hands down onto the wounds, yet his mind stayed strong as he kept his head on a swivel. The language barrier kept him from commanding, but slaps onto the arms of Vultures and pointing to either weapons or positions kept them strong.

 

Or as strong as they could be. For a while now the artillery was silent, but the war wagons circled them. The machine guns which peeked from metal doors peppered them in gunfire the second they perked up. Even as he focused on keeping the pressure on Ourupadia, he had the women still peak.  Judging from their reactions, he would see if his theory was correct.

 

Remembering what the book Wrench had given him had taught, this was a common thing done by Northern Mercenary groups. Considering these attackers were probably the same who worked for Mr Green Water, then he could apply the theory of what their tactic was. At it is core, this was a job to capture them. They bombard an area, then circle with the war wagons until the target surrenders.

 

Since they had the protection of the Desert Claimer, there was a high chance they were going to advance and take them from close range. Dreadful rattling and screams of gunfire sound as huntresses would dare for a moment to peek over the edge of the Desert Claimer. Several shrill cries shook his ears as gunfire knocked several Vultures to the ground. Yet he concentrated.

 

“Can you heal her?” He muttered quietly.

 

“No,” the softer of the voices answered, her tone sympathetic yet not comforting. Racking his mind for ideas, Charlie could almost feel a light bulb appear above his head.

 

“Put a small amount of heat into my hands. Not much, but just enough,” He muttered as he placed his hands over some of the wounds

 

“Why?” the deeper voice of the demon added. Takes in a deep breath and shakes slightly. He committed.

 

“I am going to cauterize her,” From inside the emerald field, the Angle glanced at the demon.

 

“Fuck off,” he said as he saw a wide grin across the lips of the Angle.

 

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“I told you he was a good choice,” she said with a smug grin.

 

Heat swelled into the palms of Charlie’s hands. Smiling through his tears, he began to push the heat down onto the wound. Wincing and biting her bottom lip, Ourupadia shoved her head against the sand. All concentration was gone as her tall ears and her tail were now on full display. The magic which she usually used was now dissipated as she attempted to divert it towards the wounds. 

 

Through the small flicker of silence between shells, he heard the twang of bow strings. Huntresses yelled as they pointed up. Several men just peaking over the top of the Desert Claimer leapt down into the fur. Blood trickled over the white fur as some of the arrows landed on the targets. Bodies slumped and fell forward onto the sand.

 

His heart sank. Staring at the ears and tail of Ourupadia, he looked up to see a man staring down at them. Fuck. Seeing coins appear in his eyes, he aimed down at Charlie and Ourupadia. Placing the stock of his gun against his shoulder, he began to gently pull on the trigger. Yet he did not fire as his eyes widened. Turning, a look of far came over his face as he stared out.

 

Blood-curdling screams that shook even Charlie to his knees flowed around them. The screams of men. Just over the top of the Desert Claimer, Charlie saw sand flowing into the air. Like a stream of water, the sand curled above them. Raising high, it began to curl into a ball above them. From this ball, spikes began to form.

 

“G…Get down,” Ourupadia said through tattered breaths. Ducking his head, Charlie kept his eyes on the sky. A voice rang in his ears. The voice of the Goddess.

 

“Blazing Sun of the Sand,” the voice muttered as spikes of hardened sand began to fire from the orb.

 

Indiscriminately the spikes fired around them. Not hitting down into the Desert Claimer, but rather firing around it in all directions. A tear rolled down his cheek as he stared up at a white-haired woman. She stood upon the back of the Desert Claimer with a large, decorated knife in hand. For what felt like the first time, he was ecstatic to see the Chiefess.

 

“Down here!” Charlie yelled while waving a hand above his head. Looking down and seeing Charlie, a smile spread across the face of the Chiefess. Leaping down, she sprinted to his side. Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her face against his neck.

 

“OH! By the Goddess!” She yelled; her voice strained as she cuddled him. Gently placing his hands around her body, he smiled.

 

“I’m fine, but please,” he moved back and stared down at Ourupadia.

 

“I will get her next, I am getting you far from here first,” Grabbing him, she tried to lift him into her arms. Grabbing her shoulders, he pushed her back.

“Please,” he said, “with her safe, I can begin to command the people who can still fight,” staring into her frustrated and teary eyes. Pushing aside her pride, she nodded. Frowning, she grabbed her and lifted her into her arms. Taking a handout from under her, the Chiefess grabbed Charlie by the scruff of the shirt and pulled him closer.

 

“For the sake of the Goddess, if you die because of this, I will fucking skin her,” her words were harsh, but he saw her eyes. She was terrified.

 

“I…I will stay here. If I keep the order, I can try to save as many people as I can…” looking around, he saw the girl who he had sat on his lap on. She lay on her side in silence. Her eyes were open, her mouth agape and those who were trying to save her had moved on to helping others. Dead…She was dead.

 

“Please, just keep them at bay. Ourupadia dying would be a hit to morale,” Charlie said as the Chiefess stood. Closing her eyes, she began to focus. From her hand, blood tricked into the knife. It was a sacrifice, but it was worth it. Through this, she felt the sand itself around her. 5…no… 6 hundred meters away. The reinforcements were close.

 

“I will get her to the reinforcements, but keep your head low,” with these words, the Chiefess turned and began to sprint. Leaping up onto the side of the Desert Claimer, she then leapt off, disappearing.

 

Realisation rushed over Charlie as he turned to see where the man holding the gun once stood. For a moment, his eyes locked with that of the man. Turning, he leapt off. Holding his breath, Charlie realised something. He had seen the tail and ears of Ourupadia. If that information leaked… It would be a genocide. The value of demi-human blood was not something a mercenary would just look over.

 

Dragging himself to his feet, he stared at the Desert Claimer. Ducking as a bang rang out, and a bullet just skimmed past him, Charlie made his advance. Picking up a short sword as he moved, he tucked it into his belt before grabbing onto the fur of the Desert Claimer. In a sudden jolt, he found himself climbing. He had to learn to crawl… whether he liked it or not, thanks to Wrench he now had vastly more upper body strength.

 

Still stumbling, he dragged himself up. Hand by hand, make shit foot hole by foot hole he climbed. His chest was heavy as he reached the top. From between flocks of fur, he saw the man. Another man had his arm wrapped around his shoulder as the first helped him to hop away. Clambering further, he sat upon the back of the creature. The men were far…

 

Shaking off any doubt, Charlie threw himself from the back of the beast. Lifting his legs high, he moved quickly through the sand. But it wasn’t enough. Even though he moves as fast as he could, the sand held him back. The men got further and further until they leapt over a dune. Reaching it just as they disappeared, Charlie stared down.

 

Trembling, a tattered man stared at him. But where was the other?

 

“Please… surrender,” Charlie muttered, the click of a gun sounding from just behind a nearby rock.

 

“You are fucking savage beasts!” the man cried, as he pulled the trigger. Flashes of green blocked the sight of the bullet from Charlie’s sight as he raised his arms. A sigh came into his ear.

 

“There are no ways of peace with humans,” the deep voice of the demon muttered, all while the angel held silent. Ignoring his words, Charlie put a hand out to the man. Again, he squeezed the trigger. And again, the flames caught the bullet.

 

Glaring at the man, Charlie extended his hand further, and firmly said “Surrender,”

 

Again, the man fired.

 

Screams shook in Charlie’s mind. Screams of Ourupadia as the shrapnel was wrenched from her back. The blood remains of the girl he had sat on flooded his mind. Staring, he simple spoke, “Why?”

 

All they wanted was peace, yet how hard was that? Green flames flooded over the man. Agonizing screams roared from him as he fell to the ground. In silence Charlie watched, his eyes staring down onto the ash. Turning to the injured man, he stared into his hallowed eyes. Like Charlie, he was terrified.

 

Tears began to drip down his cheek the longer he stared at the man. Whether it was a moment of strength or weakness, Charlie raised his hand to the man. The emerald flames consumed the man.

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