Chapter: 752 - Reuniting and the Final Muster

Tala looked upon the twenty-four arch-wolves behind the three god-beasts, together representing thousands of years of Vidarra’s children—the plurality of the Pack’s most weighty hunters—and she smiled. They were just the foremost of the horde.

It was unfortunate that two of the god-beasts of the Pack had to remain—with some of their siblings—in the far north to ensure that neither of the domains of Botulf or Conri were under threat, along with their own. They’d also gotten some help from a few of their more powerful siblings to ensure there wouldn’t be a mid-fight issue for the two as they assisted their sire.

With them were numerous packs of arcanous wolves under the sway of the Pack, under the Alpha’s eyes. Those numbers were in the form of hundreds of burn-wolves, rime-wolves, and other less prolific sub-species.

The smallest was up to a man’s chest at the beast’s shoulder. Proving that they’d clearly brought their best and strongest.

Tala’s eyes went over the integrated packs, any potential animosity between the lupine strains clearly set aside before the twenty-seven titans of their shared lineage.

Humans and wolves didn’t always get along, but they were more amenable to non-confrontational encounters than essentially all other arcanous beasts.

But that was the lessers, and she was needed to engage with the three.

She moved forward, not flickering, but not walking, simply willing herself forward in a way that would look entirely unnatural… because it was. It was an overt exertion of her will and authority.

The Pack’s claim was pushing forward, outward from the innumerable gathering lupine forms, threatening to wash over—or under—the authority already here, mainly hers.

True, the allied armies were currently in the Pack’s forest, so the bedrock of the region’s hierarchy was Anatalis himself, but that was a loosely held thing. This was a long-absent king coming to an isolated village and testing if he were revered properly.

Tala would not abase herself, but she knew the score. As she arrived some fifty feet from the three god-beasts, she specifically did not armor herself. She had no need. “Great Anatalis, Botulf, and Conri.” She dipped her head slightly. “We welcome your partnership in our hunt.”

Botulf and Conri lowered their heads more in a combative crouch than a nod of deference, power shifting a bit within the wolves to become more prominent.

Anatalis chuckled, deep and resonant, making the whole world seem to buzz with the vibration of it. “Ahh, glorious pup. You are yet to pass the age of a sireling. Yet, already you near the peak of your kind. Well done.”

The two flanking god-beasts hesitated at their sire’s words, but they didn’t lift their heads as of yet. Tala’s next words didn’t help. “I see your own pups have diverged from the course of holistic power.”

That got a pair of dissonant growls, the temperature growing increasingly uncomfortable as it dropped, even as an ethereal sense of dread rose around them.

Rane strode forward to stand to Tala’s right and slightly behind, his face a placid mask. His presence brought a solidity to the near area, the temperature seeming to lock in place even as a sense of calm endurance fought back the shadows of dread.

Anatalis’s lips quirked up in the facsimile of a smile that looked more threatening than many an angry man’s glower. “How right you are, but I fear you’ve struck a chord of strife between we three.”

Botulf’s voice had an undercurrent of the roar of furnaces or the slow grind of flowing lava. “You are young to show such disregard for your own life.”

Tala grinned, knowing full well how the show of teeth would be seen. “My life is mine.” There was a thrumming chord in that final word, causing all of nearby existence to seemingly chime back in glorious affirmation. “This hunt is mine, and you are here at my behest.”

Conri chuffed, his voice smooth and cold as a crypt. “There is no room at any peak for even five paws, Iron Matriarch. Would you have us seek to unseat the Alpha?”

“Never.” Her response was clear and even.

“Then, we must find parallel peaks.”

She frowned at that. God-beasts were region-bound. They shouldn’t have restrictions about overlapping concepts… unless he meant that by binding to a region they were changed? She gave a slow nod. “Then, that is the way of god-beasts? You are altered by the region you claim?”

Anatalis gave a deep yip, one that resonated within her back teeth. “Indeed we are.”

Rane interjected then. “What, then, is the source of your disagreement?”

Botulf growled, but his growl was directed at his sire. “It is possible for the beast to master the region, and bend it to him, but such is as rare as air in the ocean.”

The foremost wolf chuffed and growled, causing both flanking god-beasts to drop to the ground, their heads lifting as they lay down, the tension of the moment passing. “We have spoken enough of such things. Unfortunately, we have one more fool to suffer before we can get to the hunt.”

Clearly on cue, a wolf came forward, it was the least of the great wolves in power, equivalent to low Paragon in advancement. Tala recognized the sireling immediately. “Ahh, I thought that was you.”

The sireling growled, head dipped. “I promised you a rematch if ever we met again.”

Tala raised an eyebrow, her incredulity clear.

So, this was the fool they had to suffer?

-Let’s make this quick.-

Indeed.

The sireling came forward with obvious hesitation. “My word was given, and I will honor what I stated, though I know the folly of my boasts already.” He rolled his head briefly to the side, exposing a portion of his throat for a moment. “I will be the pup attacking his elder, learning under paw and teeth.

There was both long-sufferance and approval from all of the sireling’s siblings as they looked on, Tala’s threefold perception showing their spirits clearly enough to ensure there was no mistake in that. She sighed. “I can release you from your promise.”

The sireling gave a harsh growling bark. “No!” He growled a bit longer before clearly mastering himself. “No. That would be my eternal shame. I will face you and take whatever comes as my due.”

She grunted, then sighed. Different cultures, different practices…

-Indeed.-

Tala straightened. “To the death this time?”

The sireling shivered but didn’t look away. “If that is your wish, I will agree.”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

She sighed. “No, that is not my wish.” She considered. “To unconsciousness.”

The sireling chuffed in agreement. “I accept.”

“What of inscriptions?”

The sireling grunted. “I sense nothing about you that is not you. I’ve no right to ask for you to be hampered in using what you are.”

She gave a half smile. “Very well. Call the start.”

Rane stepped back, waving away several of the arcanes and Archons that had come closer during the exchange.

The sireling crouched. “Begin.”

He sprung forward, and Tala didn’t armor herself.

He was fast, without a doubt, and even as he came on, jaws opening before him, his magics touched the world around them.

Air hardened around Tala in such a way to hold her in place, but it did more than that. If she struggled, the hardening was modeled with the weakest side toward his oncoming attack.

Temperature shifted in a gradient, trying to freeze her feet to the ground even as it tried to boil her brain.

Rocks and dirt fired in from all sides, compacting and sharpening as it came in as an all encompassing storm.

Lightning crackled between his teeth, arcing out toward her as he came in for a bite to her throat.

Behind her, many of the arcanes who had just sworn to her tried to lunge forward to her aid, but Rane interposed himself before Anatalis, Botulf, or Conri were forced to.

This fight wouldn’t be interrupted.

The sireling tried to spin up voidmagics, but Tala simply denied them with an act of will.

In truth, her authority encountered Anatalis’ as she forbade voidmagics, but the great wolf didn’t stop her or oppose her will in the negation.

Tala lifted one arm up, utterly unhindered by the hardened air. She laid her palm almost gently on the incoming muzzle, forcing it downward, so that the giant wolf’s jaws locked around her middle instead of her neck.

The rocks and hardened dirt shattered or splattered against her, with not even the smallest bit finding purchase.

The lighting coursed over her clothing but didn’t penetrate below that, save to dance within her eyes, giving them an inhumanly blue glow for but a moment.

The teeth stopped on her elk leathers, the beast’s jaws clearly straining to no avail.

Tala stood like that for a moment, the sireling’s whole body straining and thrashing in an attempt to move her or worry through her defenses.

Then, left hand still resting on the side of the clamped jaws, she smacked the top of the sireling’s head with her right, the thwack loud enough to send a burst of wind outward, momentarily bending the grass away from them in an expanding ring.

The sireling stiffened, humorously biting harder than ever in the last moment before he slumped to the ground.

The entire pack threw their heads back and howled, it was an exultant sound. Even Anatalis joined in, though his howl seemed to have been projected high above them so as to not overwhelm the others.

One of their number had given his all. The outcome was inconsequential, it was his effort that mattered.

Tala huffed a laugh. Such an attitude made excellent sense for effectively immortal, reincarnating magical beasts, but it was still strange.

Anatalis came forward and picked up the sireling by the scruff of the neck. Physically, they were close to the same size, but the great wolf had no trouble moving the sireling back to his siblings.

The great wolf looked toward Lea, and Tala’s daughter bowed. Tala gestured toward the girl. “This is my daughter, Lea.”

Anatalis chuckled deeply. “I can see that. It seems there is much to discuss.”

Tala waved that off. “We can discuss her later, after we begin the march.”

He paused for only a moment before huffing agreement and coming forward to dip his head just slightly. “Very well. Our assessment of humanity was accurate. It is time to hunt side by side, to remove the blight on our borders.”

Terry chose that moment to flicker forward, coming to Tala’s shoulder. He had gone out to meet the Pack as they came south, a representative and bridge from Tala to Anatalis. He’d also known that he wasn’t needed in that fight.

He was the size of a cat, perching on Tala’s shoulder, but his metaphysical weight was undeniable. She reached up to scritch under his chin. “Welcome back.”

Terry shimmied, sinking lower with contentment.

Rane chuckled. “If only we could get a few more of Terry’s kin to join us. Now wouldn’t that be a terrible force.”

Terry let out a self-satisfied squawk, before fluffing his feathers and looking back toward the gathering wolves.

A few Archons were working their way forward, so the gathered group was resting a moment in silence. Tala decided to briefly address Rane’s words, just so there wouldn’t be misunderstandings from others who had heard him. “Right you are, Rane. It is unfortunate that terror birds would be more likely to attack us than help. Very few have lived long enough to develop restraint and the ability to work with those outside their own species.”

Rane nodded, smiling. “Just so.”

Many of the most powerful among the allied forces were now gathering closer as everyone could feel that things were coming to a head.

In a humorous twist of fate, gated humanity—including that which was in the Wandering Wilds—was the least well represented group as none below Fused could be allowed on the battlefield, which limited their pool of warriors considerably.

Still, the Wandering Wilds had sent quite a few fighters, even if they couldn’t spare their ‘best’. Those were needed to keep the settlements running and protected from other threats. Those they had sent were easy to distinguish from the other gated due to being a bit more clean cut and…softer.

It honestly made sense. In their societies, they’d have been the upper echelon: protected, kept safe, and able to live in isolated luxury.

In contrast, most every Refined in the Cycling Cities spent a stint or two as a Defender, lending them a more confident air in regards to conflict.

Still, that wasn’t all that the Cycling Cities had sent. They’d reinforced their contribution with more Defender teams, of course, but they’d also gathered some few combat focused Paragons. The less combat oriented being shuttled around to cover the gaps left by the Defender groups.

Then, there were the Fused. Those had come in the thousands, nearly matching the soldiers and guards from the arcanes in number, swelling the allied army to be a match of the Black Legion in numbers… at least the Black Legion from history.

Now, unfortunately, the numbers would still be in their enemies’ favor, even with the wolves adding thousands more.

Tala had been a bit sad that Master Jevin wouldn’t be joining the clash directly, but she understood. His city was effectively besieged. Only his weight, will, and authority kept Makinaven whole and hale.

He was still coordinating through the Archive from within the forest—along with the other forest city leaders—ready to aid where and when he could without exposing his city unnecessarily.

Those who’d been working their way forward finally made it, and Tala smiled, knowing what was coming on both sides.

Two Paragons and a Refined—all from the Constructionists Guild—bowed toward Anatalis, the woman speaking for her colleagues. “We greet thee, Great Anatalis, Alpha of the Pack.”

Anatalis gave a chuff of acknowledgment and the three straightened.

“We are of the Constructionists, capable crafters of items of magic.” When the wolf made no response, she continued, “We of our guild have worked closely with our counterparts to outfit this army to the best of our ability toward the culmination of this war. We would offer you and yours the same. If you wish, we can craft arms or armor specifically suited to your kind, magics, and means.”

Anatalis shook himself as if shedding water. “Your offer is heard in the spirit it was made.” His voice was a wind through the woods, a power unmistakable in its inevitability. “But the Pack has no constructs. The Pack needs no constructs. We are predators, maintaining the herds for balance and growth. We are enough.”

The crafters bowed again, pulling back in acceptance of his decision.

Tala took a moment to realize… This was it. No more help would come. Every one of their fighters was as rested as they could reasonably be.

She looked to Anatalis, and the great wolf clearly understood her thoughts.

His presence rolled out across the army, very carefully overtop her will and authority rather than attempting to supplant it.

Tala worked to support his will, his presence, not deferring her purpose to his, but in acknowledgment that he was serving her end goal, and therefore worthy of her support.

The wolf grinned at her, showing his predatory teeth even as his voice rolled across their gathered force. “It is time for the Great Hunt. Tremble, all who dare oppose us.”

A second voice—as feminine and flowing as a great river—spoke the last sentence with him.

Tala felt a ripple in reality from the conjoined utterance.

Then, the two wolf god-beasts growled, low and powerfully, their power joining that of their parents, and existence shifted.

Tala felt as if some voice spoke in her ear, and a primal part of her responded.

A pursuit had been called, the prey set.

It was time to hunt the beast.