10
The strong gusts of winds rippled over us without mercy, the cold slowly creeping on us from the feet up. The snow on the ground had increased greatly by another few inches, making our journey even more difficult. Together with our new comrades, the Vandrel Guards, we hiked through the snowy terrain, cutting across the trees, rocks, and a few, annoying depressions in the ground. Siron, along with three guards, returned back to the town, to alert the mayor and the remaining residents of the new developments. Mrs. Craft was concerned that her escaped prisoners would reach the town first, plundering whatever they could get their hands on, before slaughtering the defenseless men, women, and children.
But the weirdest part in all of this, I noticed, was that we hadn’t encountered a single mutant chimera for more than two hours. It was rather strange—almost nerve wrecking, considering how close we were getting to their hideout. Were they baiting us to approach? It was simply too easy. An animal howled into the wind, a shadowy figure standing over the peak of the mountain in front of us, the moon behind it making it more ferocious. It stood on its hind legs, resembling a wolf in nature, howling into the moon, before a dozen or so joined it. The monsters looked our way, barking in a threatening manner, before storming swiftly in our direction.
“Wolf mutant chimeras are the worst,” Salyanna commented, nudging me from the side, her rifle drawn out. “They are strong, fast, and very agile, a truly lethal combination.”
“Alpha formation,” Mrs. Craft boomed, drawing out her bow, and placing an arrow on it. “Do not let them break our ranks, okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Craft,” they all replied, standing still, saluting her.
The moment she passed by them, they broke stance, darting off in pairs, their guns anchored above their waists. Two of them took the position in the back, the other two taking the western direction, as they hid themselves beneath the bark of trees, using the branches to conceal their presence. I could no longer see the other three guards, because they had turned on their advanced cloaking devices, making themselves invisible to the naked eyes. The mutant wolves howled, the sound closer than before, their noisy approach easily detectable, even in this accursed blizzard. And thanks to the direction of the wind, we had the advantage in terms of stealth and power. Our only problem, at hand, was the unavoidable hypothermia.
“Are you ready?” Salyanna shook me, looking at my trembling hands, and a look of worry on her face.
“Don’t worry about me,” I replied, turning away from her, and picking up my fallen dagger before it was completely buried in snow. “I am much stronger than I look.”
Two shots, coming from the right, felled a heavily furred mutant chimera into the ground, instantly killing it. The beast, with long, white fur, was almost as big as an elephant, with two long teeth like a saber tooth tiger, and had long, sharp claws. Like the bear chimera, it also possessed some sort of armor on its abdomen, nullifying any attacks to its heart or stomach. A tree fell to the ground, snow exploding into the air, as two massive, mutant wolves charged towards us. Grabbing Salyanna, I threw her to the side, rolling out of the way before one of the beasts could trample us to the ground. Mrs. Craft stomped forward, the snow on the ground unable to restrain her, and she shot one wolf in front of her in the snout. It growled in pain, taking a swipe with its claws at her legs, but she twisted her body up, avoiding the lethal attack. And as she straightened up, she reached into her pocket, retrieving some sort of blinking device, and loaded it onto the tip of an arrow. She fired the arrow, striking a mortal blow beneath the mutant wolf’s chin with a remarkable precision. The wolf roared in pain, its white fur turning green—and slimy bubbles oozing from its mouth. She shot it with some sort of parasitic acid, I thought. The wolf ceased moving, several second later, dead.
“What are you doing?” Mrs. Craft screamed, watching two of her men fending a black, furred wolf that had appeared out of nowhere. “Do not attack without caution.”
The dangerous creature stood on its hind legs, towering over them, making a great effort to intimidate them. It dropped its right paw on the unlucky man, on the right, swashing him down like a bug with ease. It ended his life in the cruelest way possible.
“Altigun, no,” his partner screamed, his judgment consumed by his grief. “I will kill you, you vicious beast.”
Moving left, taking advantage of the trees, he opened fire on the powerful creature, hoping to avenge his fallen comrade, but his bullets could not penetrate the creature’s tough armor. Unaware, he was being watched by another creature, which suddenly appeared behind him, like a phantom. He literally walked into its jaws, the poor fool, his life ending when it sunk its teeth into him, and chewed him down. These mutant chimeras were unlike the others we had faced up till now; they were powerful, cunning, and massive. It was going to take everything we had to bring these creatures down. I welcomed the challenge with open arms; however, considering this terrible environment, it was not a wise decision to engage them on equal terms.
“Formation B, everyone,” Mrs. Craft yelled, waving everyone towards her. “They will tear us apart if we don’t stay together.”
Four of her remaining men heeded her advice and regrouped back, but the remaining soldier, aching to prove himself, fell victim to the savage beasts. He removed the cape from his back, drawing out with backup sword, making his final stand against the creatures. Four mutant wolves circled around him, snarling at him, torturing him by taking light jabs at his back when his gaze was drawn elsewhere. His comrades, angry and grieving, were forced to watch from the other side, unable to offer him aid. The black, furred mutant stood in our path, plodding through the snow on its hind legs, exhaling warm air deeply. It was shortly joined by two other wolves, which came from opposite directions from it, and also stood on their hind legs. Just great, I thought, rabid mutants that want to act like humans.
“Petros,” a soldier cried, reaching his hand out to the lone soldier. “Look out behind you.”
The poor soldier was struck in the back by one of the beasts and was hurled into the tree, the snow falling on top of him. The mutant wolves acted as if they were enjoying what they were doing. One of them paced towards the fallen man, pulled him out of the snow, and chucking him back into the middle. The lone soldier struggled to get up, and from the way his left leg was twisted, he was highly unlikely to be unable to stand, let alone fight them off.
“Stick together, you fools,” Mrs. Craft commanded, placing a arrow on her bow, facing the black, furred chimera. “Don’t let his actions be in vain—stand together as the Vandrel Guards, the most powerful guards in this galaxy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they muttered, the strength and power in their voices gone. “We shall do as you command.”
Petros, the lone soldier, stuck his broad sword into the ground, using it to support himself up, as he turned his gaze towards us. He stood still, amidst the foul beasts, proceeding to salute with his right hand—his final salute.
“No, Petros, don’t use it,” a soldier screamed, attempting to run to him, but was stopped by his companions.
Upon turning my head, I saw a bright, white light, and, then, a massive explosion that engulfed a forty meter radius in a fierce blaze of blue fire. The explosion took out more than six mutant wolves, but left the black, furred wolf and two others unscathed. Several trees were laid to waste, the fierce fire burning through the blizzard like a small storm, before dying out a minute after. This unexpected situation was spiraling out of control, and if things progressed at this pace, we were all going to meet a similar fate. Salyanna, leaning closer to me, raised her rifle above her chest, halting her breath to steady her aim. She stopped herself from making any unnecessary movement, a thing that would be even impossible for most seasoned, veteran hunters, waiting until the creature was close, and fired three shots at its head. She maimed the creature on its forehead—however, it was not enough to kill it for good. And as she reloaded a new magazine into the gun, the creature swung down, forcing us to jump in differen
t directions.
“You were a good fellow, Petros,” Mrs. Craft hissed, pulling off her cape from her shoulders, the bow on her back. “You gave up your life, fighting like a true honorary Vandrel Guard, without using your true power. I shall not let your sacrifice go to waste.”
The mutant wolf, with the black fur, rushed towards her, jaws wide open, displaying its massive, sharp teeth. Mrs. Craft ignored the dangerous beast, as she began to take her helmet off with ease, acting like the monster was a harmless pet. From my perspective, her actions seemed rather stupid and bold, and it was daring display of power for the foolish. But she dodged the creature, leaping into the air, and vanishing at an astounding speed. I looked left and right, up and down, but I could not even sense her presence.
“Members of the Vandrel guards, I have given you permission to use fifty percent of your restricted power,” she screamed standing on top of the creature, with her sword raised in the air. “You are allowed to use any means to kill the creatures that stand before us.”
“Yes, Mrs. Craft,” they cheerfully replied, removing their helmets, and tossing them to the ground.
One by one, the four guards took off their caps and threw them to the ground, and they also removed the bandoliers around their waist, placing them against the caps to stop them from being blown into the wind. I watched in my amazement, admiring their newfound courage and strength, as I paid close attention at every movement they made. Learning everything I could about this powerful group was necessary, especially, when considering my affiliation to the underground world of mayhem, and assassinations. I had suspected, deep down, that a situation like this could emerge, which is why I saw it best to keep my special abilities a secret from all of them.
“This is for my colleagues,” Mrs. Craft spat, burying her right hand the wolf’s forehead, and pulling out a chunk of its innards. “We shall have our revenge for our fallen brother and sisters.”
The monster cried out, reaching out of swipe her off its head, but she grabbed the claws with ease, a smile on her green face, and broke its wrist bones apart. She instantly knelt down, planting something into the fresh wound of the beast, before leaping down to the ground. The black, furred beast shook its head for few seconds, growling with rage, and glanced down at her. It trudged forward, on its back legs, attempting to bite her head off, but as it got close, it exploded apart. Chunks of flesh flew in every direction, the fresh blood sinking deep into the snow. I blinked once, turning around, just in time to see another mutant wolf fall to the ground, split in half by a very sharp object. The remaining wolf was set on fire and burned alive by one of her soldiers, whose body seemed to be ablaze. I could honestly conclude one thing—they were incredibly as strong as I had predicted. If it came to a serious fight, with me using my true power, they would have me on the ropes, assuming they were attacking me at the same time.
“Let us continue,” Mrs. Craft yelled, picking up her cape and putting it on, and walking over to also pick up her headgear.
She had bright, yellow eyes, with really large pupils, thin purple lips, high cheekbones, and really long, braided hair of a blue color. She was also of a slender physique, standing over six feet, with unusually long, thin arms. She placed her headgear onto her head, fastening on the safety clips on the back of the helmet, glancing at the remaining chunks of flesh from the mutant wolf she had killed. Her soldiers rejoined her, the capes already donned and flapping on their backs, and the helmets held tightly in their hands. Stopping a few meters from their captain, Mrs. Craft, they lined up, placing their helmets on, and arming themselves once more with their rifles and blades.
“We broke our code of battle, and I will take sole responsibility,” Mrs. Craft muttered, passing by me, her hands on her waist. “It was unavoidable, and from now onwards, I will give you permission to use half of your strength to battle anything that might do you harm. You have been given permission to kill any prisoner you come across, so prepare to move out.”
“Yes, Captain,” they yelled back in a synchronized manner, saluting her with an unyielding amount of discipline and respect.
“And are you three ready as well?” Mrs. Craft asked, walking towards us, both of her hands holding onto her long bow. “We are moving out right now, whether you are come with us or not.”
“We are coming with you,” I replied her, turning my head to Salyanna, and giving her a quick nod.
“Good, let us go,” Mrs. Craft yelled, turning around, and trekking forward, her soldiers pacing behind her.
What is this day turning into? How much more of this distraction and madness must I endure?
I rubbed my hands together, attempting to bring back some feeling into my numb fingers, as I began to plod through the snow, following behind Jutcer and Salyanna.