DREADWOLF - Chapter 118

The crowd only seemed to grow louder and more bloodthirsty as the Ranker sentenced those put before him, the prisoner’s screams on hearing their fate barely heard over the cheers, the volume rising with each mention of the ‘pit’, fists thrust into the air, the square echoing with the roar until chants of PIT! PIT! PIT! were rolling across the space in waves.

Elzodium didn’t react in the slightest, he may as well have been in private for all the attention he paid the excitable crowd, casually waving a paw for the next prisoner to be brought forward before reaching out for another fist full of candies from his harem.

The line wasn’t small but, eventually, the longboat full of prisoners had all been sentenced, some sentenced with just a grunt and the word “pit” by the lazing Ranker, but all given at least a word. The last was dragged away and then the crowd was left with nothing to cheer, only Elzodium yawning, as though he couldn’t care less that he was surrounded by tens of thousands of people, resting his paw on his chest as he slouched in his giant throne.

The Ranker’s eyes closed and everyone watched, waiting for something to happen.

Instead, the Ranker began to softly snore.

A few awkward minutes of murmuring passed by with the crowd wondering if their Ranker had really and truly just taken a nap and forgotten all of them were there. But then once they realised that was exactly what had happened they slowly began to dissipate. The energy that had charged the crowd a moment ago subdued as they realised they weren’t even an  afterthought to Elzodium. The excitement was over.

Which was fortunate as Lyra was on her last legs, panting and sweating as she hung onto Opal, hands on the Goblin’s shoulders as she tried to keep herself upright and the crucial wool space Skill active.

Rain was more than a little worried. If Lyra fainted right now he would be trapped inside, and if she did not wake up quickly, well, he would most likely die. He could climb free of her wool, but the problem with that was he would be immediately attacked by the bloodthirsty crowd of levelers, and more importantly the Ranker.

He held no illusions about the strength of Elzodium and his chances against him. He might have had hard-fought success against Bane but there was no guarantees with this one, especially as Elzodium was the Ranker of an entire Mega City and presumably far far far higher leveled than a mere town Ranker.

He couldn’t leave, so that left him stuck and hoping for a snatched chance to escape out of view before the sheep girl collapsed.

It seemed that he had made the right choice as the crowd rapidly disintegrated, the many streets that fed into the square syphoning it away in every direction, the varying species eager to get on with their day.

Opal was leading the way now as Lyra was focusing on just staying conscious, carefully winding her way around and by the flows of people. Luckily Opal seemed to understand that they were in a dangerous situation and was moving Lyra along quickly, Rain’s recent near-death experience clearly leaving an impression on her.

They made their way through the streets and then through alleys until they found safe haven, an empty alley amongst a cobweb of deserted alleys well away from the heaving city streets, the buildings tall around them and muffling the sounds of the city. The sheep girl stumbled across the cobble as she was part carried, barely hanging onto Opal’s shoulders.

Then with shaky legs she slumped against the wall.

“O-Okay Rain y-you can come out now.” she managed to get out between breaths.

Rain, waiting on the other side, heard her, but he didn’t move. His eye was peering from her black wooled thigh and had just caught sight of a number of levelers entering the far end of the alley.

“Wha-what are you waiting for?” panted Lyra, her voice directed at her wool covered arm.

“Levelers,” hissed Opal, watching the group of levelers approach and causing Lyra to look up in surprise.

There were three of them. One a Lapine, that is to say a black-furred rabbit folk with chevron styled clothing, and the other two Human, two men in scuffed leather armour.

Unlike other Lapine that Rain had seen this Lapine looked… significantly rougher. Old scars that hadn’t been treated with healing potions made long ragged tracks in his fur and there were many triangular knicks and knife cuts on his ears. He was the same as the two men in that way, like they’d seen a lot of fighting with blades.

They carried themselves casually, cocky in their self confidence, as though they owned everything they walked on. It only took a moment for Rain to get the impression that these three were part of some kind of gang.

Their steps slowed as they approached and paws and hands came to rest on the pommels of blades hanging from hips.

The Lapine eyed Lyra.

“Do you know what dye is little sheep?”

Lyra’s head wobbled as it moved, breath coming in pants.

“Wha-?”

“You’re a white wooled half-woollie-half-elf, there aren’t that many of that mix around. A little bit of dye and you’re nice and disguised. Which is likely a pretty important thing to be doing if, hypothetically, there were a large bounty on your head. It’s the first thing I’d do, and since I’m me, a dyed half woollie is also the first thing I’d be looking out for. Right, Lyra Bellerhorn?”

It took Lyra a few seconds to grasp what they were saying but when she did the outrage seemed to give her life and she straightened from the wall, taking a half step toward them.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying!? Half woollies are being attacked randomly? Even those who have nothing to do with that bounty!? Those who are a completely different shade of wool!?” She looked on the verge of tears. “Innocent half woollies being harassed or worse killed?! No! No…That- that can’t be…”

The gang seemed taken aback by her sudden emotional outburst.

“Interesting reaction to the name,” murmured one to the side. He drew steel, the blade making a terrible metallic scrape as it came free from his scabbard.

The Lapine who had spoken followed his example, flicking free a scratched up short sword. “You know, it’s not like I don’t see your point of view girl. But fifty thousand gold in a city like this? There are gangs making marks of half woolies everywhere. One of us is gonna tag the genuine bitch at some point and get minted, just a matter of time. It’s a competition over our rivals see, we can’t let them get the real mark first or it’d be all over for us, that gold could fund an army.”

“That’s- that’s – all because of… I- I don’t want it to be like this!” Lyra seemed genuinely upset that half woollies were being targeted. Verging on distraught, her fists curled at her sides. This could not be allowed to go on.

“Now, I know you may not actually be her, but it’s just not worth the risk of letting slide such a prize on the off chance you are.” The Lapine smiled showing a shiny silver tooth. “Course if we can’t bag anything better than you I’m gonna try my luck dying your wool white and delivering your body to the lord like that.”

Tears in the corners of her eyes, Lyra gave the Lapine a defiant look.

“I’m not going to let you go after anyone else! Or-or well, that is, he isn’t, he’s going to stop you!”

The gang paused and glanced around, clearly wondering if there was somebody else sneaking up on them as there was clearly no male with the girls. The alley remained deserted however and their eyes returned to Lyra who was now holding her forearms together in front of her chest in an expanse of black wool.

“Care, she’s trying to make a play using her Class. Let’s just end her already,” snarled the Lapine, nose wrinkling in irritation.

He whipped his blade up and slashed down at Lyra, a diminutive sheep girl against a level empowered sword blow, impossible to stop, the blade meteoring down, air rushing, her knees shaking, eyes wide.

“RAIN!” cried Lyra, and a massive paw tore from her arm fluff and engulfed the Lapine’s entire head then ripped him off his feet and dragged him inside of her wool in one violent motion.

It took less than a second. The gang member was there, and then he wasn’t.

The remaining two gang members didn’t seem to have registered what had just happened, their gaze wandering from the muddy cobble where the Lapine had stood then up to the shaky hyperventilating sheep girl.

“I- I’m sorry! I- I can’t just let you go around killing random half woollies! I- I’m sorry! He’ll make it quick, p-probably!”

She took a step forward.

“What is this? Illusions? Is that your Class? You hid him from sight, that’s all.”  One of the two remaining spat wetly to the side and lunged for her, blade stabbing for her still held up arms.

The blade came on, but then disappeared inside a massive paw along with half his forearm.

The man screamed as he was dragged inside, the noise abruptly cut off as his head vanished into the boiling cloud of fluff, and then he was all gone.

The last of the three clearly thought differently of his comrade’s bravado and immediately turned on his heel to run, his sword falling from his hand to clang and clatter against the cobble, shoes slapping stone as he fled for his life.

He managed four steps before a small green leg was extended out at the perfect moment, colliding with his foot and sending him crashing to the ground in a heap, the air forced from his lungs in a rush with the impact.

He flailed at the cobble for a moment before scrambling to his hands and knees, frantically trying to crawl away.

His motions came to a sudden halt however and he sprawled across the ground once more as something latched onto his ankle.

The man turned horrified eyes back on Lyra and found her crouching on the ground, arms wrapped around legs, and a huge black arm emerging from her billowing wool, a huge black arm that extended across the ground and was latched onto his ankle.

The arm began to retract.

“N-No NO! NO! NO!” screamed the man as he was hauled across the ground. He clawed at the cobblestones with his fingers, using his level empowered strength to hold on.

It didn’t matter. One by one his fingernails snapped off and he was left scratching frantically at the ground with bloody fingertips as he was inexorably drawn toward the terrible fluff.

“Uhm, I’m s-sorry! J-just let it happen!” said Lyra, trying to comfort the man.

The man screamed even harder at that, that is until his head disappeared inside the wool, his arms and blood soaked fingers outside clutching at the ground for a moment longer before suddenly spasming and going as limp as wet rope.

His flopped arms were dragged fully inside.

Lyra’s face was as pale as a sheet, and she looked at her black wooled arms in an extremely unsettled way. Her paleness wasn’t entirely due to the sight of seeing three gang members disappear into her wool of course and the exertion of holding the Skill together for so long abruptly crashed home causing her to stagger across the cobble, barely keeping upright.

“Rain,” cried Opal grabbing at the sheep girl’s hips and trying to stop her from falling, “Sheepy’s going to lose it! Get out quick!”

Opal kicked the sheep girl’s hoof, momentarily pressing her legs together, and her wool boiled outward, a huge head ripping free from the dark along with paws and a chest then body as Rain crawled free of sheep girl’s cloud of wool.

Just in time too as her wool washed to white as his tail flicked free.

Lyra collapsed. Unconscious before she hit the ground.

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