The Protector and the Peacemaker

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Three

(Misty)

"Misty, on your right!"

Misty's ears perked up at her brother's warning, and dodged to the side just as an axe cleaved open the ground where she had been standing. While the Mythic recovered, she pounced on it and sank her teeth into its shoulder.

It didn't scream or even bat its black and red eyes.

Misty let go just as it raised its hand to swat at her, and scrambled backwards to make some distance between them. To her right, Ozzie was dueling a sword-wielding elf with his knife. She and Porter had both been worried about Ozzie bringing such a tiny weapon to the battle, but he was quickly proving them both wrong. Ozzie knew his knife was most effective in close range, and that longer weapons were ineffective when their wielder didn't have room to swing it. As long as he was close enough to use his knife, most of their enemies wouldn't be able to touch him.

As skilled as he was, though, he would never be a predator like Misty. With her lean, strong wolf form, she weaved in and out of their enemies like a shark in an ocean of bodies, biting and clawing anyone who let their guard down. She had no armor, but it didn't matter— Mortoph had given her everything she needed to survive this fight.

Speaking of her adopted father, she turned to look up at the Fear Feeder and snarled. If she hadn't already disowned Mortoph as her father, this would have been more than enough to convince her. The creature that was unhurriedly trying to crush the Mythic army smelled like dead people, and looked even worse. Day after day, year after year, she had spent her entire life being told that anything inhuman was a monster, including herself. To find out now that Mortoph had never been human at all made her blood boil with rage.

A quick look around the field told Misty that her side didn't seem to be doing well. The Slayers could barely hold their own against the mindless Mythics, and they still had Uthas Drall to deal with on top of that. If they couldn't beat him, they would have gotten nowhere. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind, though. For now she had to focus on fighting. She snarled as a wyvern came to challenge her, and then pounced and sank her teeth into its wing.

Don't kill them, Azkular's voice warned her in her head. She tried to obey, but it was getting harder. The wolf in her smelled blood in the air, and that excited it. It wanted to bite, kill, and eat, not knock its prey down and move to the next one. Luckily, Mortoph had spent years teaching her how to control these instincts, and now they were little more than an annoying voice in the back of her head. Still, she couldn't deny that the Mythic blood in her mouth tasted good...

"Misty!" Ozzie shouted suddenly, bringing her mind back where it belonged. They were standing back to tail now, each of them facing down a different Mythic. Ozzie's was a naga, her snake tail coiled underneath her, ready to lunge at the young man and sink her venomous fangs into his skin. Misty's was, to her surprise, another werewolf. This one was a male, full grown with fur as black as midnight.

Okay, Misty thought, lowering herself down to pounce. Let's see what he's got.

The other wolf didn't wait for her to strike first. He lunged at her, jaws snapping. Misty backpedaled, trying to keep him from getting at her throat, and almost knocked Ozzie over in the process.

"Hey, watch it!" he complained, dodging to the side just as the snake lady came at him.

"Sorry!" she said quickly, never taking her eyes off the black wolf.

The other wolf growled, pulling his lips back to show her his teeth. A primitive threat, but one she was perfectly capable of understanding. Repurposed or not, this werewolf considered her a threat and wouldn't stop fighting her until either she ran away, or died. Misty gulped, forcing her fear to the back of her mind, and threw herself at her opponent.