Nines stares at the metal bars in front of him.
This isn't the first time he is stuck inside a cage. He remembers when he was a fresh exile and got caught by a group of slave hunters. Lazy and stupid no-hives had thought him easy prey, clapped him in a set of manacles, and stuck him in a cage that was more rust than iron. It had been all too easy back then to pick the locks and sneak away in the dead of night with a bag of rations liberated from his would-be captors' supplies.
Unfortunately for him, Sho-Battai prison guards are neither lazy nor stupid and the cage he is locked inside is also strong enough to hold a Shek berserker.
Though considering how cramped the space inside his cell is, he is glad not to be born a hardskin.
"Come on, Nines!" Ezra whines from the cage next to his, "Stop being so glum."
Nines refuses to respond, keeping his eyes straight forward.
"I know our situation looks bad-" Bad? They will either be executed or sent to mines to work until the day they drop dread all she has to say is bad? -"But I promise that we will soon be out of this place."
If Nines had a nose, he would snort to communicate his mocking disbelief the way no-hives do.
When the stupid scorchlander female pulled him into a side alley during their escape from the Schnee Manor and offered him a way out not just from the city but also from being hunted as a criminal, Nines should have refused and rejoined the others.
Then at least he would have been still free.
But, at the time the situation had been chaotic and uncertain enough that Ezra's offer seemed like the better option. While Nines himself had full trust in Wolf's ability to reduce everything standing in his path to bloody chunks, that didn't guarantee safety for Nines or anyone else following Wolf. The trail of wounded and corpses the group was leaving behind had been the proof of that.
And Ezra had been a reliable companion up to that point so Nines had taken his chances which led to him getting locked in a cage at Sho-Battai prison.
As no-hives say, 'Hindsight is always twenty-twenty'.
"Captain!"
"Ezra."
It is not Ezra's annoyingly chipper voice but the even response she receives that brings Nines out of his own head. The sound of a cage being unlocked afterward has Nines turn towards Ezra just in time to see her cage being opened by a samurai in full armor. Another samurai, this one not wearing a helmet, watches Ezra from a step back.
But the way Ezra is smiling at the samurai puts his fears to rest. The stupid scorchlander seems familiar with these newcomers and even she is not stupid enough to smile at her own executioners… hopefully.
Which means that these samurai are here to either free her or take her someplace else.
His first guess is proven right as the samurai who opens Ezra's cage unlocks her shackles after she steps out. Once free, Ezra locks her hands together over her head and stretches her back while bending forward in a display flexibility that Nines didn't know was possible for no-hives earning whistles and a few offers to procreate with her.
"That felt real nice after being stuck in that tiny cage for so long," Ezra states after letting out a satisfied sigh.
The samurai without a helmet gives her an amused look, "If you are quite finished we still have work to do."
For a moment, Nines thinks Ezra is going to leave him behind. But she turns to him instead with a wide grin, her cat-like eyes almost glowing under the dim lighting of the prison.
"Captain, can you get my friend out as well?"
"Friend?" asks the helmetless samurai before turning to look at Nines as well.
He looks fairly young to Nines' eyes, with dark black hair and orange eyes that feel like they are staring into Nines' own soul. Unlike most other no-hive males, he doesn't have any hair on his jaw which makes Nines almost mistake him for a female. His armor, clean and well-made, marks him as someone above the average samurai.
This must be the 'Captain' Ezra has been talking about. Nines honestly didn't expect him to actually come, figuring that Ezra was simply overestimating her importance. After all, the samurai who captured them both had been the city's elites and they took their orders only from their own captains or the Lord of their city.
"Yep. His name is Nines and he is the cutest bug ever."
So whoever this captain is, he must be someone really important and the way Ezra is casually talking to him is starting to make Nines really, really nervous.
The captain finally nods to his subordinate who moves in front of the Nines' cage. Nines stands up and then waits patiently while the samurai unlocks his cage. When the cage door opens, he takes a tentative step outside. The samurai then passes him a key.
"Unlock your chains," the armored woman orders.
For a moment, Nines awkwardly stares at the key in his hand. Then, he returns the key before crouching down and taking off his already unlocked shackles.
"When did you pick them off?" Ezra asks with a grin.
Nines simply shrugs before turning to face the captain. Thankfully, rather than gutting him on the spot, the man looks amused.
"Well, this is interesting."
Nines remains silent. Unlike Ezra, he actually possesses common sense paired with actual self-preservation instincts. Unbothered, the captain continues.
"Nines, was it? I'm Ezra's superior, Jin."
The man gives Nines a friendly smile.
"It's nice to meet you."
Ahri glares at the cannibal corpse under her foot.
She has many reasons to direct her ire towards it, from the suffering she personally went through while held captive by their kind to all the damage and pain she has witnessed them cause.
"Lass, hurry up!"
Yet, the reason behind her anger at this one dead cannibal specifically is that fact she can't pull the stupid crossbow bolt out of its chest. It's stuck as if it's the old king's legendary sword, waiting for its one true owner to come and pull it out before ushering in a new golden age for humanity as its ruler.
"I'm coming Master Volk!" Ahri shouts back without looking. It may be just one bolt, but with how her mentor always goes on and on about the importance of recycling and scavenging leaving it be is not an option. Grabbing the bolt's shaft with both hands, she tugs at it again with all her might while pressing down on the corpse with her foot.
The only warning she gets is the bolthead budging before it suddenly rips free, unleashing a spurt of blood that launches straight up before splashing all over her face.
"Fuck!"
Letting out a frustrated growl, she checks the bolt. Its head seems in serviceable condition and there aren't any cracks she can spot along its shaft so that's good at the very least. Ahri quickly slips it into the bundle with the rest of the scavenged bolts before looking around for her mentor.
Two dozen cannibals lie dead, two slain personally by Ahri, with no casualty among the hunters. Though most of the cannibals were runts, it was still a good fight by her mentor's standards.
Speaking of her mentor, she finds the him talking to another hunter some steps away. The old man gives her a nod when she reaches her side.
"You recovered all the bolts?" he gruffly asks.
"Yes, Master Volk."
Her mentor grimaces, "Stop with that master shit! I ain't a fucking slaver, just call me Volk."
Ahri shrugs. In nomad clans, it is how apprentices refer to their mentors and even though she herself is no longer a nomad, she still carries with her habits from that life.
Besides, Volk is someone she respects genuinely. After she joined the Cannibal Hunters following their recruitment surge, it was the old man who took her along with half a dozen fresh recruits under his wing and taught them all the essentials of being a hunter.
Seeing that she has nothing more to say on the matter, Volk turns his attention back to the other hunter he has been conversing with.
"Look, we need food, fast. We are already stretching the rations we have left but there is barely any game in the plains aside from fucking Beak Things and most of their meat is inedible to anyone that is not a bugperson."
"I understand but it will take some time to reorganize our supply lines. With the Bastion gone not only have we lost its treasury and food stockpiles but we are also cut off from the Empire. Robun is planning to negotiate with the Okranites for food but…" the man trails off.
"Well, out with it!" Volk demands after a minute of awkward silence.
The other hunter leans toward Volk and speaks in a hushed voice, "There are also talks of pay cuts."
Ahri now realizes why the man has been so hesitant to speak. Unlike Volk or her, most cannibal hunters do their work to make a living. Without a paycheck, she can see many of them simply abandoning their posts and leaving for greener pastures which would in turn bring the whole Deadcat Reclamation movement to a halt.
"We can't afford to stop now!" Volk states hotly. "The savages are all disorganized and confused. They are fucking killing each other in droves out there for fucks sake! But if we don't wipe them all out, sooner or later a new leader will emerge, and then it will be back to the old status quo."
"I know, Volk. Believe me, I know and so does Robun. That is why he is going all the way to put his best foot forward with the zealots."
"Okranites also suffer from cannibal raids so they should deem our cause righteous enough," Volk states with a thoughtful look.
The other hunter grins, "Let's just hope they don't decide to send military aid, eh?"
"Their paladins would kill more of us than the fucking cannibals," Volk comments, a similar grin pulling at his lips.
"And send all the women back to the kitchen."
Both men then break into loud laughter.
Even though Ahri can't see what is funny about Okranites coming to kill them all, she admires the way they are able to laugh in the face of a dire situation. Perhaps, she can grow strong enough to be able to do the same one day.
A chill wind suddenly blows through, causing Ahri to shiver. She pulls her cloak tightly around her to ward off the cold.
It is cold on the Northern Coast.
Far colder than the Great Desert where Ahri was born. She can't honestly say she misses it though for the life of a nomad is a harsh one full of hardships and suffering. To live a migratory life among those dunes, away from all the cities and civilization, is to live under the threat of Slavers, Bandits, Psychos, and all manner predatory beats who dwell among the sand.
Which is why Ahri had come to the World's End, leaving behind her clan and everything she ever knew.
She had wanted a better life, one where she could live each day without fear, where she had a place of her own which she could call home, and perhaps… even a family if she ever found the right man.
Megacity had promised all that and much more.
A settlement founded by a group of colonists and refugees all seeking a new life away from the Empire and the Holy Nation, led by a man she now recognizes as having possessed more ambition than sense, it had nonetheless been a beacon of hope for many people searching for something better.
Then the cannibals came.
It all started with disappearances. Neighbors and acquaintances who were one day there and gone the next. People who left the safety of the walls and never returned. Their leader dismissed their worries, trusting in the settlement's walls and turrets to ward off any danger, even while their numbers continued to dwindle.
Then one night, under the cover of darkness, they finally raided the town.
They scaled the walls and overwhelmed the watchmen before surging into the settlement. They broke into every building and dragged out the sleeping inhabitants from their beds. The few people who managed to put up any actual resistance were killed and considering the horrors that awaited the rest, Ahri couldn't help but think of those people as lucky.
When they finally left, not a single soul was left behind.
Ahri had been among those who were taken by the cannibals, too weak and scared to fight. She learned that night that the safety and the stability she sought was naught but an illusion.
In this world, danger is ever present no matter where you go.
And Ahri has had enough of living in fear.
"Moll."
The leader of Flotsam Ninjas raises her head from the empty wooden bowl before her, having just finished her lunch. All around the mess hall's table conversations come to a sudden halt as her ninjas turn their attention toward the newcomer who just stepped into the hall.
Moll recognizes her as one of the gate lookouts. Considering that she didn't barge in any hurry or panic and there aren't alarm bells ringing through the village, this can only mean one thing.
"The hunting party has returned," the lookout states, confirming her thoughts.
Moll stands up from her seat, a long wooden bench she has been sharing with one of her ninjas, and with one hand motions everyone else to return to their business before following the lookout outside.
Flotsam Village, though heavily fortified, is not a large settlement. What's more, the village's gatehouse is located right next to the dome that serves as the headquarters of her Flotsam Ninjas.
Thus, it only takes Moll a few steps to reach the open gatehouse yet she finds a welcoming party forming when she arrives there. As for how the news spread so fast among the village residents, she knows that it is the work of a group of certain, very loud and very annoying ankle-biters who she can still hear going from building to building and shouting at the top of their lungs.
"THE HUNTRESS IS BACK! THE HUNTRESS IS BACK!"
The leader of Flotsam Ninjas feels the corners of her lips beginning to curl up at the sight of their antics. She turns away before their cheerful exuberance can drag a smile out of her and directs her attention to the group approaching the gatehouse.
The first thing that catches her eye is the corpses of three beak things carried on sleds dragged by her hunters. Hunting the damn things is a difficult and dangerous task and Moll swiftly takes a headcount. To her relief, she counts the same number the hunting party has left with.
Then she turns her eyes to the woman leading the group.
Yang Xiao Long is a mouthful of a name. It is like three different names mashed together where one would have sufficed. That said, the woman carrying the name is worth at least a dozen of her jonin all on her own, though one couldn't tell by simply looking at her.
To call Yang beautiful would be an understatement. A clear, unblemished skin; a full, well-endowed figure with curves in all the right places; a luscious, thick, blonde mane that puts silk to shame; lilac eyes that are vibrant and full of life set in a face that can capture the heart of any man, and some women, with a single glance.
She stands out easily among the group of arrivals despite the ragged cloak covering most of her form. Yet whatever god, be it Okran or Narko or perhaps both, blessed Yang with such divine beauty has also blessed the woman with a strength that can shatter rocks and skin stronger than iron.
Whichever the case is, Yang is someone who is above normal men and women.
Moll watches as Yang and the ninjas following her reach the gates where they are welcomed with cheers by the village residents who gathered. There are hugs exchanged among friends and lovers. Many returning ninjas receive pats on the back from their sisters-in-arms to congratulate their success.
The group of little hellions who a moment were busy causing a ruckus all over the village rush over to Yang and try their best to tackle the woman onto the ground much to her amusement.
Moll allows them their moment of happiness and celebration, waiting patiently as the village welcomes its returning members.
Once Yang finishes wrestling the kids and manages to extract herself from everyone else, she approaches Moll with an easy smile on her lips.
"How is it going, granny?"
Moll scoffs. Having lived through over forty cycles, she is by no means young, but neither is she a weak and infirm elder. If it was anyone else speaking such words, she would have dragged them to the sparring ring and personally taught them the error of their ways. Unfortunately for her, Yang is not only her best warrior but also a combat junkie who in the blonde's own words 'is always down for a good fight". As such, it is often easier for Moll to bear with Yang's teasing.
"Worse now you are here."
Then again, Moll has never been the one to take things lying down. Even when her responses only encourage Yang.
"Aw, don't be like that." Yang playfully pouts. Then with a singsong voice she adds, "I brought presents~"
Moll rolls her eyes at the blonde. "Let's talk inside."
Mercifully, Yang holds her tongue this time, seeming to have finally noticed that Moll has important things to say. The scorchlander leads the blonde to the headquarters. Once inside the dome-shaped building, a curt command from Moll sends the remaining ninjas outside, leaving her and Yang alone in the mess hall.
The two women take a seat at the table opposite each other.
"I got a message from Mani," Moll begins, pulling out a crinkled paper from her pocket and handing it over to Yang. As Yang reads it, Moll summarizes its contents. "With Bast razed to the ground and the recent disruptions to the northern trade route, there aren't any food shipments coming from the empire. What's worse, His ex-comrades, the Cannibal Hunters, have been buying most of the surplus food that reaches the World's End."
Yang puts the letter down. "How long do we have?"
"Our food stockpiles can only last a month, maybe two if we ration," Moll answers drawing a deep sigh from the blonde.
Yang lets out a tired sigh. "Give me a couple of days to rest and I'll go out hunting again."
"That won't work," Moll tells her. "The only game you can hunt up here are either beak things or river raptors. Raptor meat is inedible to everyone except the bugmen and only a third of a beak thing's corpse is safe to eat. Even if you range northward for better prey, the Cannibal Hunters currently camping in the plains would have left little for you."
"Can't we farm?" the blonde asks.
Moll shakes her head. "The soil around here is infertile and the winter will soon arrive anyways leaving no time to grow even the fastest crops."
"Then what are we gonna do?" Yang asks, all her previous cheer having long left her.
"The Okranite farms should be gathering up their last harvest," Moll begins and it's obvious from the expression on Yang's face, that she doesn't like where the conversation is headed. "If we move fast, we can hit them before they send their tithes to the granaries in Blister Hill."
"We're gonna rob farmers?" Yang asks in disgust.
Moll shrugs. "It's either that or starvation."
"…Fuck"
The cloaked man marches through the dimly lit corridor with even steps. Electric lamps built into the right-side wall with set intervals are the only source of illumination.
Unlike the rest of the Sho-Battai military headquarters, this level is built underground with the way behind him leading to the stairway that connects it to the main level above ground. The corridor itself curves right, forming half a ring before terminating in a set of metal doors connecting to the only room on this level.
Two samurai, each one a member of Sho-Battai's elite, stand guard at either side.
At his approach; the samurai at the right, a towering Shek clad in full armor, raises his fist and loudly knocks on the door behind him three times. Before the echoes fade, the doors open allowing the cloaked man entrance.
Beyond stand another pair of samurai who close the doors after the cloaked man steps through. Past the doors, there is a sudden turn to the right which then opens to a wide circular room with a single cage in the middle.
Aside from the occupant of the cage and the samurai by the door, there are five other people scattered around the room: A shek woman in heavy armor is leaning against the wall to the left. She meets the cloaked figure's gaze evenly until it moves on. A hiver and a greenlander woman, both wearing leather armor over chainmail, are seated on the floor by the far side of the room, engrossed in an ongoing card game. A scorchlander man is seated with his back to the wall on the right. He briefly glances at the cloaked figure upon their entrance before turning his attention back to the crossbow on his lap, tinkering with the weapon's mechanisms. The last one is a bearded greenlander man clad in heavy armor seated on a wooden stool by the cage.
"About time you showed up," the bearded man calls out.
"Where is Kumo?" the cloaked man asks him
"Dead," he responds before motioning towards the cage. "The sleeping beauty there gutted him with that toothpick of hers."
The cloaked man approaches the cage, taking in the sight of the woman inside. Weiss Schnee is indeed a peerless beauty. Even when unconscious and bound in chains, she manages to look elegant and graceful. Her skin is smooth, pale, and unmarred save for a single scar running over her left eye. Her hair, even when caked with dirt, sand, and blood, remains bright and vibrant compared to everything else around.
"I assume she is unharmed?"
"Pumped with enough drugs to knock out a god damn Gorillo but the physician says she will be fine," the bearded man answers. "Can't say the same for the dozens of samurai and the full squad of shinobi she went through. Poor bastards."
The cloaked man finishes his inspection, satisfied to find no visible marks or injuries on their prisoner. "Lord Takao will be pleased."
"And our payment?" the bearded man questions.
The cloaked man turns to face the mercenary, "You are to be paid upon delivering her to Lord Takao's mansion at the capital."
"Okran damn it!" the man loudly curses, drawing looks from the others in the room. "We captured the bitch and stuffed her in a cage like asked. What more do you fucking want from us?"
"He wants you to join the escort detail as an extra layer of assurance," the cloaked man explains, his voice calm and even.
"Assurance?" The other mercenary snorts. "They sent the bloody imperial guard here to take custody of her. She ain't getting out under their watch."
The cloaked man shrugs. "You will get paid extra."
The mercenary falls silent for a moment, clearly unhappy still but mollified by the promise of more money.
"Wasn't she supposed to stand trial first?" he finally asks after glancing at the unconscious woman inside the cage.
"That's just a formality," the cloaked man states. "The Circle of Nobles has already agreed to let Lord Takao take her."
"Okran blasted nobles," the man grumbles.