.: Like I have said before, I struggle with battle scenarios. I have a feeling that this backstory will have its fair share of those. So I need to get my rear in gear and start popping these chapters out faster or else I'll be crawling for the rest of the year. I don't like putting myself on an uploading schedule, but I also don't like posting once a month. I'll figure it out eventually. :.

The Girl with A Half-Soul

Chapter 44:

The Wolf Woman: Kiyaya

Battles can be categorized depending on intention, context, and outcome. To some, they were viewed as forms of art. At the beginning of this war against the outsiders, the Lun'aecho organized planned battles to determine how deep their conflict over land ownership ran. It became clear that they did not plan on leaving, so the Lun'aecho rehashed their tactics. One thing that enhanced the warriors' potency involved poking sleeping bears.

The abrupt changes in biomes throughout the island did not spare the mountains. Most of them were covered by a deciduous forest, but one part was suddenly cut off by a desert. A river acted as the bridge by flowing between them. It carved out a canyon that eventually went out so far that they lost sight of where it ended up. Compared to the lively forest, the canyon was eerily quiet and empty. Its orange soil and rock walls failed to yield life. Since it could not sustain good things, it instead sustained bad things. The same river that fueled living beings in the forest instead fueled cursed beings across the boundary.

Those who crossed into the canyon unauthorized always returned because something happened. Whether they saw something, were touched by something, or even possessed by something, all of the accounts were just reminders to stay away. Evil spirits resided there. No amount of cleansing rituals or spells cast could purify it. Any animals who wandered in were said to become vessels because they did not seem to return. That explained why spirits were described with animal-like features. The scariest form so far was said to be a demonic deer-like creature.

Some occult leaders risked themselves to figure things out. Now, not only could they ward off spirits, but they could also lure them in. The Lun'aecho were not hindered for long. They had a new way of entering battles. It just required them to first have something enter them.

Lakota stood behind Cherokee in the middle of the long line of warriors waiting their turn for the ritual. They managed to gather quite a few together, but word spread quickly and soon the entire mountain range was made aware of the circumstances. This would be the biggest raid they had ever mustered. Lakota wondered if the canyon had enough spirits to offer for them all.

When Cherokee faced the Chieftain, she allowed him to lift her chin and proceed to mark her face. White smudges lined her cheeks and nose, and a medicine woman shook a staff with gourd rattle dangling from the tip. The moment her waxing half-moon adorned her forehead, the blessing was complete. She stepped around the two to follow the others into the darkness.

This was par for the course. What was once a drastic measure was now a required step in battle prep. Lakota let the running water next to them be his anchor as he shut his eyes to let the same blessing be cast upon him. Lines were drawn down his neck and across his cheekbones. He listened to the gourd rattle above his head. His waning half-moon was formed, and he was sent on his way. The next part of the battle ritual was unnerving: warriors basically stumbled across what spirit would possess them. The blessing was meant to protect them from harm, but it was not a guarantee.

Two days ago, when Lakota did this, he was greeted by a skittish rabbit that made eye contact with him before casting a shadow on him. He hoped to have a better encounter this time. Maybe this battle would not have him run away. He kept his guard up as he seemingly walked a path alone. The canyon was good at making intruders feel isolated even when others were present. It did not help that looking up at the cloudy night sky failed to share moonlight to help lead him the right way. Because of that, he looked straight and continued.

The clouds shifted a little bit to provide him with some visual relief. He was in a rocky corridor that appeared to be reaching a dead end. The sounds of the river were absent here. Lakota wanted to turn back, but when he did, company met him. A red-furred fox sat with its tail wrapped around its front feet. For being so out of place, Lakota was not surprised or frightened. Foxes were predators who did not display aggressiveness unless they were ill. It actually relieved the warrior to be approached like this. Some warriors had to fight their evil spirit, him included. This one appeared to have chosen him.

When he knelt, he saw it open its eyes to reveal red glowing red irises. Definitely a spirit using a vessel.

"I need your strength," Lakota shared sincerely, calmly extending his hand toward it. "Will you lend it to me?"

The fox did not react at first. It stared up him without moving. But then its fur darkened to the point Lakota thought he was rejected by the spirit. The darkness suddenly shapeshifted and touched his fingertips. Almost immediately, he felt his skin grow cold and numb purely from the supernatural essence it carried. The numbness traveled up his arm and into his chest. The hairs along his skin stood on end. Despite the sensation of being possessed being unpleasant, he was not afraid. The possession was not ready to take its full effect as of yet.

Involuntarily, he drew in a sharp breath that pierced deep in his lungs. He pressed his palm to his chest as a heaviness resided. "Thank you," he croaked gratefully. Afterwards, he left the dead end to leave the canyon. It was suddenly as if he was part of a group. Others found their demons, pretty much announcing it as they reacted to various levels of aggression. Lakota walked past without anyone noticing his presence; however, it was impossible for him to ignore a particular one close by.

Despite having grown up with Cherokee, he had never felt an out of body experience with her. If she was in danger, he would not know unless he was with her. Their bond was just not the same as twins or star-crossed lovers. Something about the way he suddenly broke into a cold sweat and stopped in his tracks completely negated all of that, though. It was not the fox demon inside of him, but rather a malevolent force in his vicinity.

All of the disoriented warriors left his peripheral again just so one could catch his focus. Cherokee stood face to face with a deer that had gracefully curved yet sharp antlers. Its protruding muscles were most prominent in its shoulders and neck. She showed no fear when it reared up on its hind legs and leapt straight into her as a black mist. After choking and stumbling forward, she rolled her neck to pop her vertebrae. Then she looked directly at him with glowing red eyes and the deer's antlers having grown from the sides of her skull. It was no surprise that the worst spirit of them all deemed her worthy of its strength, but seeing it fully encompass her being left him speechless.

They planned to move while it was dark. The Chieftain and warriors who knew about the invaders' next plans led the huge battalion out of the mountains toward the east. Bison were left behind, along with families who had hope that this would be a big victory for their people. Lakota did not feel like he was leaving anything behind. He was bringing his only family along with him.

He did not expect high spirits or much conversation between him and Cherokee, but he also was not anticipating the overwhelming dark aura that radiated off her. Their matching strides did not falter the whole time they walked side by side. But something about the way she looked straight ahead the whole time and never paid attention to him made him uneasy. His fox demon remained dormant, but he wondered if her deer demon was in full control the whole time. She no longer had its antlers, so he had no way of confirming it.

Eventually, deep in the grassland, they traded their marching for crawling. Overtop their animal skins were carefully threaded ghillie suits. If they laid still, they would completely blend in. Everyone kept up with the person in front of them by not losing sight of feet as they moved on forearms and knees. Stomachs never left the ground. Bows were in hand. Lakota waited for a signal more than anything.

Their plan involved surrounding the invaders and silently picking them off. According to the previous scouting group who got ambushed, they were getting better at patrolling nearby areas and inspecting the outside of their established camps. The warriors would wait until one wandered too far to be noticed. As soon as one was assassinated, the body would immediately be dragged out of sight. The goal was to dwindle their numbers until their weapons were truly outmatched. After that, no survivors.

When the warrior in front of Lakota began drifting to the right with the others, he did not hesitate to follow. The only problem was that the warrior in front of Cherokee started drifting to the left instead. He instinctively reached over to her for a simple touch on her back that was supposed to convey a promise to see her soon, but the moment he made contact, the deer demon inside her rebuked. The suddenly freezing numbness that shot up his arm felt like a sharp impact. The fox demon fought back against the intrusion, making his heart palpitate and feel short of breath for a couple minutes.

The invaders either never slept or rotated monitors based on a schedule. It was the middle of the night, and tents were set up along with campfires. Some were patrolling as expected in the surrounding vicinity that had the grass completely flattened. Not many sat around the fires, but there were also the sounds of laughter. The oddity in the center was probably the source. It was a structure made from the same materials as the tents, but it was far taller and rounder in comparison. And while the tents were blue, this was orange. The inside illuminated to show silhouettes were active.

Although the people inside were conducting business, the tone was not particularly serious. The Navy just brought new recruits in. They were mercenaries being paid for their services in this ordeal on the nameless island. No formal training did not hinder them. If anything, they were simply trained different. The Commander in charge of this contingent sat in front of a small table with his elbows pressed to his knees. A map of the island was being used to show the newcomers current plans and how the Marines were moving around.

"Our main objective right now is slowly push toward the mountains," the Commander shared as he dragged his finger across the map. "It's their fortress. Once we get inside, we clean it out."

Standing around were lower ranked Marines with arms behind backs and statures rigid. The information was classified, so they were just making sure these mercenaries were faithful to their contracts. So far, they were as normal as could be. Their leader sat across from the Commander with her legs crossed. Her boots were heeled and ended below her knees. Unlike how appealing the Marine uniforms were, this person wore a pink miniskirt and a teal crop top cardigan that tied across her bust. And it did not matter that she tipped her hat forward to shield her gaze because her triangular snout showed anyway.

After a small twitch of her nose and whiskers, the humanoid being looked up to reveal the face of a guileful rat. These mercenaries came from a civilization known as a dukedom. Found atop of one of the only remaining gargantuan elephants that walk the sea resided this dukedom. Its inhabitants were incredible products of evolution known as the Mink Tribe. Rodencia was one of many who possessed human characteristics such as female anatomy and silky long hair; however, her mammalian characteristics of a rat were far from lost. Every square inch of her body was covered by short gray fur that was soft to the touch, and a naked pink tail laid over the edge of her seat.

The two sitting on either side of her showed what the opposite gender in the Mink Tribe could look like. Gomer, a bear mink, sat with a slumped posture. He was the tallest and widest individual in the tent, taking up two thirds of the seat. Although he wore clothes, talked, and could walk on two legs, he did not inherently appear like a human male would. He simply had gruff brown fur with a darker shade of hair between his ears. Mogul, a baboon mink, was the opposite. His long, hairless face was the biggest giveaway that he was not human, but his body structure was very similar to the brawny Marines.

The rest of the minks stood behind them, listening. Fish, (male) the cat mink. Vencent, (male) the deer mink. Carlos, (male) the monkey mink. Monika, (female) the llama mink. Roxanne, (female) the fox mink. Fangle, (female) the hyena mink. Barb, (female) the boar mink. Stew, (male) the ferret mink. Spinach, (male) the hare mink. They all had just arrived this morning, but there was no time to waste. This conflict with the savages had been dragged out for too many years. The Navy planned on using them as the deciding factor of the outcome. The best way to start was getting up to speed on the current affairs.

The Lun'aecho moved in sync with each other and whenever the breeze masked the swaying of the grass. Lakota found himself next to the warrior he was initially following, and they were on the frontlines. The suspense of not knowing when they would be discovered started making him itch. Peering through the loose grass of his hood, he watched as a white sleeveless uniform started slowly coming around.

The clueless Marine stayed close to where the flattened circle abruptly ended. The dry grass stood above his waist. The handle of his gun rested in one palm while the barrel rested in the other. Knowing that savages could pop heads up anytime bothered him enough to make him gulp. It was not a good feeling.

All he had to do was look down to see that they were already doomed. Lakota could not help but think of the guy as lucky. If he was backed up a few paces, someone would have pierced his skull with an arrow by now. He was too close to have a good shot.

The Marine passed them, but that did not stop another warrior from standing up when his back was turned. The spine of his bow went over his head and forcefully squeezed against his neck. He choked and grabbed at the spine to fight against being suffocated, but his neck broke too fast. As soon as he went limp, the warrior responsible directed for his weight to fall in the direction of the grass so it could swallow them both up.

None of the other patrolling Marines noticed.

Fangle's ears suddenly flattened to hear in the opposite direction. She felt something within her Observation Haki that was subtle yet noticeable enough. Instead of making a big deal out of it, she continued to listen but tried to stay aware of the outside. Maybe the others felt it, too.

Lakota exhaled with relief. Now there was no stopping. Internally, he requested for the fox's power now. Foxes were sneaky creatures. If he was going to be useful, there was no better time.

Across the camp, another unsuspecting Marine dropped dead. A ghillie suit scurried to him to drag him away. Right when the scene was scrubbed, another patrolling Marine turned toward it unfazed.

Lakota felt the fox alleviate any hesitation he had coming here. His last battle was much different from this one. The more his body grew numb from losing control, the more assured he was. His survival instincts were now not his own. His senses screamed at him with every individual within a certain radius. From warriors to Marines, he felt them. The way they moved, breathed, and slept. He focused on another Marine who was patrolling. No attention was paid to him, so he loaded an arrow into his bow as it laid sideways on the ground. He aimed and held his breath as he stared down to the arrowhead. He let go, and the side of his temple was pierced through his hat. The arms instantly slacked to drop the gun. Knees bent. He dropped like a ragdoll. What a perfect kill.

Fangle barely turned her head when she felt the same disturbance. When she met eyes with Vencent, she knew that she was not alone. Now she wondered if they should say anything. The deer mink was not as concerned. If something was brewing, there would have been an alert by now.

"Should Kiyaya be hearing this?" Monika wondered.

The final member of their group was excluded from the meeting since it was held behind closed doors. It was not because she was intellectually challenged or too immature to handle it. She was simply…built different. Due to that, she stayed out to aid in surveillance.

"We'll get her up to speed soon," Rodencia claimed. "Besides, she should be doing her job right now."

The matter-of-fact tone she was using made Fangle purse her philtrum. Something was definitely happening outside. They must be waiting to see what would happen next.

Impressed by Lakota's courage, Cherokee waited for a warrior to swoop in to clean up the mess. It was her turn to cherry pick. Maybe after this phase, they could move in and surround the big shelter. All they had to do at that point was simultaneously shoot through the thin walls to finish the job. It seemed simple enough.

With the deer's intent to cause harm still simmering in her soul, she stared across the way and quickly offed the next victim. The range she hit was remarkable. After that, a single Marine sitting next to a campfire was taken out by someone else. Two sat close to each other at another campfire, so it would be tricky to get past them. Two warriors looked to each other in nonverbal understanding, and they took care of it together. Neither of the Marines could react to the other being killed because it happened at the same time.

When the yard cleared after a few minutes, Lakota stood up with other warriors to creep out in the open. There were no stolen horses to free or evidence of bison being hunted. It was odd but relieved them. Ghillie suits were stripped off as they listened to the occupants inside the shelter.

"So these natives are killing your men, taking your horses, and trying to drive out anyone who 'doesn't belong,'" Rodencia summarized.

"Basically," the Commander replied. "The World Government wants to establish a country here, but we can't until we take care of this resistance first."

"Sounds simple enough." She glanced around the space to see that the minks were standing close to the fabric walls with blades drawn. It was obvious that the balance shifted in just a few minutes. "Thanks for telling us just in time."

The Commander lifted an eyebrow because he could tell she was hinting at something but did not know what.

"You-teia might wanna grab your gun, Commander. You-teia would've lost today." Then she snapped her hairless fingers.

Upon the signal, the minks effortlessly slashed through the shelter to barge outside. If they had known attacks like these were prevalent, they would have helped the Navy awhile ago. The Lun'aecho watched in slow motion as fighters of a completely different species came to meet them. The confusion of seeing mammalian heads with human-like bodies frightened them. Luckily, it did not cause them to freeze up to take a blade to the chest. They jumped back and recognized that combat was about to turn hand to hand.

Lakota's fox demon influenced him to retreat farther back to at least distinguish what this unexpected threat was. They did not look like the white-clothed invaders. Despite not being human at all, they still wore garments of various fibers and walked upright like them. Some faces seemed familiar because of animals that lived in the island, but others were so alien. Regardless, the other warriors thought they were way too similar to the evil spirits in the canyon. It was like the invaders found out about their possession and harvested these beings from a different location.

"Demons!" they began chanting, drawing knives and charging.

The label did not faze them. They had never met the Lun'aecho until now, not thinking much about how barbaric they came across. Their small knives and machetes were dwarfed by their swords. Carlos easily dodged a direct attack so he could grab the wrist and force an arm behind the back. He sliced the front of a neck in one fluid movement as a warning, but nobody hinted at hesitating.

Fish was light on his toes as he tore down warriors and quickly moved to the next victim. "Are we taking prisoners?" he questioned, catching an arrow just to snap it half with a single grip.

"Should we, Commander?" Rodencia asked, standing next to the wide-eyed leader. They were completely and utterly surrounded by savages, yet he had no idea it was this bad. The Mink Tribe was truly amazing to have predicted it. Not only that, but they were also driving them back.

"Y-Yes, take the strongest prisoners you can find," he answered.

"You-teia heard him!" Rodencia conveyed. "Measure your enemies before you-teia hurt them too bad."

Barb scoffed at the ridiculous notion. "They don't seem strong to me," she taunted between her oversized tusks.

"I wouldn't underestimate them," Stew suggested, letting a warrior try to land a hit but struggle. "They gave Kiyaya the slip, after all."

"She's still not here?" Gomer growled with impatience.

"We don't need her," Monika insisted. "I mean, would you-teia really call this a battle?"

"Warriors like these deserve more respect than that, Monika," Vencent droned.

"Alright, alright."

"Regardless of context, she's still one of us," Mogul reasoned. "She should fight alongside us."

"I'll call her," Spinach volunteered, retreating from the fighting so he could jump on top of the shelter. The most secure post kept him anchored as the rickety structure made his feet want to slip out from under him. "KIYAAAYAAA!"

Out in the field, farther than she promised to go, the absent mink was out of sight as she lay on her back under the starless sky. Peaceful snores reverberated among the tall grass. The silence, warm temperature, and gentle shine of the moon lulled her into a deep sleep. It was almost impossible to have a good view like this back in Zou, let alone find a place to be completely alone. This was the best nap she had ever taken.

"KIYAAAAYAAAA!" Spinach's shrill call carried.

The bubble shrinking and inflating from her nostril suddenly popped as she awakened. Her jaws pulled apart for a large yawn and her limbs stretched as far as they would reach. Then she groaned and rolled over to get up. Instead of looking toward the camp, she lifted her gaze toward the impressive moon. It was truly a beautiful sight for her canine essence. And it seemed to think the same of her because her pure white fur shimmered the most divine silver against its light.

But someone was calling her, so she had to admire it later. When she finally turned around, she had to stifle a gasp. The camp was being attacked! The confusion of when it started got her realizing that her nap prevented her from sensing new presences in the area. So, this was technically her fault. Now she was being called to clean up the mess. Well, what was she waiting for?

"I'm coming!" she called back, breaking into a run.

Lakota went on the defensive instead of trying to combat swords. The fallen proved that having those brought them to a disadvantage. There was no point in trying the same thing. Warriors passed him, but he backed away. He was not planning on running away; there was just a need to regroup. If things continued like this, they would lose and be on the path of damnation.

A hand caught his shoulder to turn him around. Unlike last time, the deer demon did not reject him. Cherokee pulled him back. "You're okay," she breathed with relief. "I need your help."

He looked over her shoulder toward the moon as it nearly rested on the horizon. "With what?"

"Well, I can get those demons to drop their weapons, but I need you to attack them right after for it to be worth it."

He nodded, seeing something disrupt the moon's shape as he listened. Then he noticed the rumbling under his feet. "Keekee, I think we need to get out of here first."

"We can't run away from this!"

"I beg to differ." Then without asking for permission, he threw her over his shoulder and escaped to the grass.

"Kota!" she protested furiously. But then she saw what he had and suddenly quieted. The moon was almost shrouded by something moving. The rumbling was getting audible. "What's that?"

"I don't wanna get a close look!"

"Ready or not!" Kiyaya announced, jumping forward.

The warriors swarming the camp suddenly looked up from the newcomer and yelled in surprise. For some, it was too late to avoid her.

"Here I am!" Then she flattened a huge section of the camp with a bellyflop. DOOSH! Everyone's footing wavered from the intense quaking. A group of warriors were unlucky as they were crushed under her weight. Her fur was extremely soft, but her muscles and bone structure made her feel as heavy as a giant. When she lifted off, unconscious bodies littered the dirt.

On her hands and knees, Kiyaya glanced around the camp to see what else she could do. The night could not hide the fact that she was a wolf mink with the most luscious white fur. Even the white flowing hair falling from around her pointed ears shared its brilliance. When she looked toward her comrades, her big green iris gleamed. Standing at twenty-three feet tall, she was truly a force to be reckoned with. The Lun'aecho warriors were lucky to be as tall as the length of her arm.

"You-teia are late!" Roxanne reprimanded, ducking from an arrow whizzing from behind.

"Better late than never, Foxanne!" she replied, grabbing a warrior before she could shoot her and effortlessly tossing her away toward the dark grass.

"It's Roxanne!"

Lakota and Cherokee watched the scene with just eyes peeking over the grass. "That was close," he commented in a low voice.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Thanks for grabbing me."

"So what was your plan?"

"Um…" She averted her gaze but knew her little secret could not stay as such with this plan. It was the only thing she could cook up, too. The situation had flipped on them. And as more warriors failed to bring down a single one of those beasts, she knew their time was borrowed. "Well, this is a terrible time to admit I've been keeping something from you, but I ate a devil fruit."

The sudden information dump surprised him but not enough to have an adverse reaction. There had been a minute number of people in their tribe who had powers from a devil fruit. Although rare, it was nothing problematic. "What kind?"

"The Curse Curse Fruit. I didn't tell you when we were kids because I thought you'd be scared."

"Oh, it's been that long? You've had a lot of time to practice."

Hearing him be so accepting of it relieved her. "Yeah. You're the only one who knows. I was nervous everyone would see me as a monster because of it."

He smiled at her reassuringly. "You're Keekee. I could never see you as a monster."

She returned the smile, feeling warm inside from how easy it was to get along with him. Tonight's Kota seemed more like his old self, who had been drained of his spirit for quite some time. Whatever his inner demon was doing was working. Her deer demon, on the other hand, was currently being suppressed. She planned on letting it come out to play during this plan.

"Even if I can cast curses?"

"Of course. Can you speak curses, and they happen?"

"Sort of." A dark figure removed itself from her shadow to insert itself between them. At first, Lakota thought it was Cherokee, but then he realized that it was a complete stranger. The woman was an elder with skin as murky as submerged coal. Her gray dreadlocks were both dangling from and woven throughout a shambolic headdress full of raven feathers and raccoon skins. Her face was painted in white streaks that made her be viewed as predatory. When she stood up, she tapped a wood staff against the ground that was decorated with ascending deer ribs and topped with a deer skull.

So Cherokee herself did not cast curses with her devil fruit powers. It was her witchdoctor that did.

"If they drop those weapons, we can fight them better," she reasoned, watching the way the minks swung their swords and practically pranced over the dead. "They're too skilled with them."

"And then what?"

"That's when you come in."

He glanced at her with uncertainty. There was nothing about him that made him an outstanding warrior, but somehow, she was going to use him.

In the middle of the fighting, the minks started choosing their prisoners. If the first blow they took was their only one, then they obviously were not worthy. But if they stood their ground and made it a tiny bit challenging, then they would get booted toward Kiyaya, who casually caught them in her hands. The Commander avoided fighting so he could instead cuff the prisoners to make it official. After this was over, prisoners of war would be shipped off to Navy Headquarters. Someone else would be making decisions from then on.

The impromptu method was not a smooth process for the wolf woman. She would have only one prisoner tossed her way within a couple minutes, and then suddenly three or four coming at the same time. She was catching and releasing, trying to multitask by not demolishing the rest of the camp and maneuvering on her hands and knees. Warriors still hidden in the tall grass were targeting her, too, so she would get punctured like a porcupine sticking a predator with its quills.

"Ow!" she cried out, feeling an arrow impale her butt cheek. Her fingertips immediately pinched and removed it before flicking it away. "Can we hurry this up? It feels like I'm getting eaten alive by ants."

"We're only going at the pace they come at us with," Fish pointed out.

"Well, make them come faster!"

"Or," Mogul interjected, "we can go to them instead." With that, he flung his opponent with a heave and leapt toward the darkness. He purposely thudded against the ground hard enough to make it crack. Many heads lifted out of fright, making his Observation Haki kindle. He rushed the field with his sword in hand. Slash. Leap. Grab. Throw. Kick. Slash. Roll. Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Widened eyes were the common denominator for his nocturnal vision. The baboon mink weeded them all out.

"That works," Kiyaya shrugged with indifference, standing up straight finally. The warrior between her hands looked up at her with terror as he thought being crushed was going to be his untimely death, but she just pinched her fingertips against the back of his shirt and placed him on the ground at her feet for the Commander to take care of.

Once free, she jogged the opposite way of Mogul. The Lun'aecho warriors who were trying to shoot her down with measly arrows by the bulk saw that their luck was up. Through her nocturnal vision that appeared in many shades of gray, she went for areas that had more warriors compacted than spread out. All she did was watch them try to run away, but she got to them too fast. A single kick was like making a grenade go off with shrapnel spraying everywhere. The warriors screamed in pain as they went flying until she lost sight of them. And she would continue doing it until they were cleared away from the camp if she had to.

Her leg lifted so high in the air after the kick, and the force she used was so great that the initial poise she demonstrated was quickly ruined when her other leg slipped out from under her. She landed flat on her butt and made the ground quake again. Despite the impact traveling all the way up her spine, she could not say it was painful. One thing she was grateful for was how she did not land on her fluffy tail this time.

Stew's footing shuddered from it. When he looked, he saw how she was just casually sitting with some dust going airborne. He started cackling at her. For as long as he knew her, she possessed some troubles with clumsiness. But considering she was that large, it kind of did not surprise him.

The wolf mink got back up and dusted herself off, only to be met with another wave of warriors who decided to come for her with spears and arrows drawn. Instead of being intimidated by it, she just kicked them all away, too. But she managed to not fall this go around.

Out from the brush emerged the witchdoctor. Her gait was so sinuous that it looked like her legs did not move at all. The minks also did not pay much attention since her presence was not registering for them like normal people. They were too busy fighting at the moment to be bothered by something not actively approaching them. But she held up her staff to begin casting a curse according to Cherokee's wishes.

The curse was spoken in a low voice that was so specific that it sounded like a different language. A dark miasma exited her mouth with it, transforming into physical words. Once completed, she swayed the staff to direct which individuals would be targeted by the words, and they suddenly shot out to them.

All at once, the minks were assaulted by new tattoos across their fur. The words of the curse were imprinted, instantly taking effect. Their swords slipped out of their hands. Monika and Spinach juggled their slipping grips, unsure about why they could not hold on. The minks halted out of shock. Spinach leaned over to try picking it up again, but regardless of how careful he was, he absolutely could not pick it up.

Next was Lakota bursting forth. He looted a spear from a fallen warrior and went for a straight attack. He voiced a battle cry as he made his mark.

The minks looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and amusement. Arrogant ones such as Rodencia and Vencent did not even bother getting ready for him. They let him chuck the spear just so they could avoid it. But then the weirdest thing happened: Lakota disappeared. All eleven of the minks standing there had a lull of confusion. One second, he was coming straight for them recklessly. Then, he was gone.

Barb suddenly toppled over, trying to catch herself in the process. The others glanced to see nothing, but she was bewildered. It felt like something got hooked between her ankles and made her fall.

Roxanne gasped at an unexpected blow to her diaphragm. The breath was knocked out of her, causing her to stumble back and hunker over in pain.

By now, the rest were on edge. They had no idea who their current enemy was. But in the middle of Carlos turning his head, he saw the moonlight seemingly bent without explanation. He realized too late that Lakota never disappeared. The Lun'aecho warrior held an arrow and proceeded to jab it straight into his knee to incapacitate him. Rightfully so, he yelped and went down. The others watched him hold his leg as it started bleeding from a mystery wound.

"Carlos!" Gomer exclaimed.

"It's him!" Carlos warned them.

"Where?" Rodencia replied, taking a step back to watch out for behind them.

Nervousness settled in as they tried figuring out how Lakota was pulling this out. To make it worse, he was concealing his next move by not attacking another one of them straightaway.

"Right here," Lakota taunted with a smirk. Hearing his disembodied voice shuddered them. It was the perfect opportunity to throw dirt in Rodencia's face. At the same time, he scurried low to the ground to get behind her. He took another arrow and proceeded to stab her in the back with it.

Being blinded made her hiss, but the stabbing pissed her off. Instead of going down, she gave him a backhand with claws more than ready to tear through flesh.

And she connected.

Lakota clenched his teeth to stay quiet despite razor-sharp claws ripping over his arm. Four streaks gushed blood just from how deep she got him. And she somehow got him where Cherokee's curse on him was imprinted. Being defaced caused the curse to lose its power; he became visible again. A warrior with a fox tail stood in the middle of the minks.

It was a good distraction for an accident. Cherokee used the agility of her deer demon to lob herself across Gomer's back. She grabbed one of their swords and had it ready to swing as hard as she could muster. But Gomer sensed her before she could try. He saw deer antlers and red eyes before grunting and stopping the incoming blade with his bare hand. Because of the curse still on him, he was unable to hold on. The length of the blade sliced clear over his palm and fingers.

"Kota!" Cherokee called.

He did not forget about his fox demon. The camouflage curse was just a bonus, but he could still be sneaky. His hands touched the ground for a second, and he slid between Gomer's wide stance to escape being surrounded.

Stew tried hooking Cherokee with fists from both sides. His dark beady eyes darted as she dodged twice. She made him look like he sucked at hand-to-hand combat, which surprised him briefly. She was unlike the rest of the warriors. If anything, it was so natural to her that she made it look easy. When he tried once more to land a punch, she predicted it and blocked his arm from even pulling back far enough. At the same time, her elbow clocked him from underneath his jaw.

She grabbed his wrist to twist his arm behind him. Spotting a small knife strapped to his chest had her swipe it without hesitation. He had no idea it was taken until she jammed him right in his stomach with it. After a gasp, she released him so he could collapse.

All of the minks watched in horror. Even Kiyaya and Mogul had to pause and witness the aftermath.

And it awakened something in them.

The sounds of untamed electricity crackled between their fingers, turning their hands blue. "You-gara killed Stew," Vencent accused Cherokee with malice in his tone.

Kiyaya rushed back to see if it was true. Her rumbling stomps fazed nobody as they stared each other down. Cherokee did not feel the least bit sorry. When Kiyaya sensed it, she got angry.

Lakota gazed up to see her oversized claws going for revenge. All he did was push Cherokee hard enough to knock her down. The searing agony of being ripped open was so great that he could not make any sound. To protect himself, his body felt it was too traumatizing to acknowledge it. No pupils were visible as his mouth gaped open and he flopped harshly. The fox demon escaped from him as a black orb, leaving him without a tail.

Her antlers shriveled and red eyes blinked away. There were no words to describe what Cherokee felt in that moment. Devastation? Aghast? Her person was reduced to meat in an instant. As he lay motionless at her feet, she was so repulsed but could not avert her gaze. It was absolutely shocking. She shrieked.

Her witchdoctor suddenly rounded her as a personified emotion. The minks were startled by its unanticipated manifestation. She was right in Roxanne's long face when Mogul arrived to apprehend Cherokee with his hand of electricity. When she got touched, it cloaked her entire body. It paralyzed her to the bone from how potent it was. Her muscles locked up from the high voltage entering her. She lost control of her witchdoctor instantly, causing her to vanish along with any remaining curses still working.

The minks relaxed. They had prisoners, deceased enemies, and a won battle. It was over.

Monika quickly fell next to Stew and rolled him over. "He's still alive!" she announced with worry. "Hurry! He needs medical attention."

Barb and Fangle joined her while Fish instructed the Marines to retrieve a medic from somewhere.

Rodencia watched Mogul pin down Cherokee with a knee as she eventually stopped struggling from being electrocuted. Sea-Prism handcuffs were locked onto her wrists to disarm her. Whoever this savage was, she was the most dangerous of all their prisoners. A great fighter was one thing, but adding an intense devil fruit power in the mix was asking for trouble. They had to keep a close surveillance on her specifically until reinforcements arrived to pick them up in the morning.