A Wolf's Howl, A Fairy's Wing

Chapter 699 - Maghreb



After an abrupt end to the fighting, Erik straightened his back and surveyed his surroundings. Planting the haft of his hammer on the ground, he calmly inspected his shocked, former opponents. Blood streamed through holes and grooves in his armour, but he paid it no attention.

Astrid stood the furthest away, with Zahra's throat in her hand. The vampire paid this Arcnaist no attention, however, and glared furiously at Erik instead. Some might think she was annoyed with the risk he took here, but Erik himself knew better—she simply hated having had to sit out the fighting.

Enkai and Ankhur stood on opposing sides of the battlefield, arms crossed sternly, their gazes sharp and focused on the two Runebound enemies. They shot only a single, confused glance at Erik when they first appeared, likely wondering why Elora had ordered them to wait for Erik's signal.

Though they were both martial people, they weren't battle maniacs as Erik and Astrid were.

"I'm afraid there was never any chance for you to succeed," Erik hummed deeply, his gaze focused on Nasir. As he suspected, this spear-wielding man was a vampire—his skin pale, his eyes red. Though now shocked, his gaze was obviously used to being cold more than anything.

The man was dressed in thick layers of Arabian clothing covering nearly every inch of his body, including a turban for his head, and a golden mask for his face. Only slivers of pale skin and the blood-red eyes betrayed his nature. Erik wasn't surprised by his attire. Desert-dwelling vampires had to find ways of combating the sun, after all.

Panning his gaze slightly, he looked at Zohran, the twin-saber wielding shapeshifter. "You are in my home-territory, and most traditional methods of isolation won't work on me."

Now that the illusory veil was lifted, Erik recognized Zohran as a werejackal, which were sort of the werewolves of Africa. They were naturally smaller than werewolves, making them physically weaker, but more agile. Although this Zohran looked like a particularly large werejackal, he was still smaller than Erik.

As a polar opposite to Nasir, Zohran was nearly naked. Harem pants, similar to Erik's, covered his hock-jointed lower body, but feet, chest, and everything else was uncovered. Some golden jewelry hung from his ears, neck, and wrists. The earrings surprised Erik a little, and he wondered how that worked when changing back into human form.

Regardless, he turned to look at the struggling Zahra. With a single, long, black braid of hair, a flowing sarong to cover her legs, a halter top for her modest breasts, and a veil to cover half her face, she looked like a real Arabian princess—somewhat similar to Naeku, but taller and slenderer.

Erik's desire and lust reared its head for a moment, but he pushed them down. 'Gotta remember I'm in charge of my dick, not the other way around,' he chuckled to himself.

"Your illusory isolation worked well," he continued with a compliment, seeing no problem with sharing some of his thoughts. "But you can't break the connection I have to my family. My allies were waiting for my signal to interfere from close to the start of our battle. I was simply enjoying myself, and hoping I'd discover some information about you three."

Having recovered from their shock, Nasir and Zohran now glowered at him furiously. They felt like they'd been toyed with, and it didn't feel good. Then they glanced at Zahra worriedly, as their Arcanist was struggling and choking in Astrid's iron grip.

"It seems we were hasty…" Nasir muttered coldly from behind his mask. Strangely, despite being surrounded and one of their number having been captured, he didn't sound particularly concerned.

Erik, curious about Nasir's lack of concern, cocked an eyebrow. "It seems you were, yet you don't sound particularly concerned about your current situation."

"Don't you worry about our lack of concern!" Zohran growled, his furry chest heaving with suppressed anger, amber eyes flashing, snout trembling. "Why don't you tell us what you think you discovered about us?!"

Erik hummed curiously, but then simply shrugged and pointed at them with his free hand, as the other was holding his hammer. "You three are the trio of warlords ruling over the Maghreb Covenant in North Africa. You've always had conflict with the Europeans, but,"—he cocked an eyebrow again—"I'm guessing the Humanitas Sangh are now advancing through Egypt, and that's making you nervous."

Erik immediately saw the truth of his words reflected in their sombre gazes. A smug grin spread across his wolfish lips.

"So, setting aside the how this happened for a moment, why would you attack me?" he inquired curiously. "Even if you're unwilling to bend the knee to me, shouldn't you at least have tried diplomacy with the one kingdom that managed to fight off the hunters?"

Nasir, his stance cautious and alert, scoffed. "Hmpf, and what if that hadn't worked? We'd be forced to fight on three fronts? Europeans to the North, a power hungry emperor to the south, and hunters to the east? We'd be ground to dust!"

Zohran gruffly nodded, his fangs exposed. "We knew you wouldn't expect an attack this quick, so we tried to capitalise on that. Clearly, we failed… But don't worry," he growled, fierce determination rising in his gaze, "Maghreb will stand, no matter the odds!"

Chuckling, Erik rested his hammer against his shoulder and slow clapped his powerful gauntlets with the clear sound of metal rattling against metal. "Wonderful determination, my jackal friend. But did you three not just leave Maghreb defenceless and effectively hand yourselves over to me?"

A smug grin spread across Zohran's lips, and Nasir's eyes creased. They glanced at the struggling Zahra, her hands wrapped around Astrid's hand, and she squeezed out a difficult nod.

Frowning, Erik cocked his head. In an overabundance of caution, he readied a thundersnow shield, unsure of what was happening. He also prepared to lightning flash towards Astrid, despite knowing she could handle herself.

Yet, his beloved vampire wife didn't notice anything wrong until it was too late, as she was too busy glaring at Erik.

A white light flashed… and all three attackers disappeared into thin air.

Or did they?

"W— What the… f— frick?!" the woman in Astrid's grasp gasped, her eyes wide when she noticed her companions were gone, but her throat was still being squeezed by a powerful vampire. "Why… didn't it… work… for me…?!"

On a curious Astrid's forehead, a sigil flared up, as if in response.


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