The legend of a warrior; chapter 7 - The memory

Story by Killer Tiger on SoFurry

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#7 of The legend of a warrior


The answer to the questions of the present often is in our past...

Chapter 7: the memory of the past

Killer took a deep breath, closing for an instant his eyes, his powerful back leaned against a rock. He was in a low depression in the ground surrounded by rocks and old, fallen trunks which represent a fairly good shelter from the rain of burning bullets and mortar's bombs from the top of the mountain. He regained a bit of situation awareness with a rapid glance on his valiant soldiers, still about one hundred meters further down his position, in bigger difficulties than him on that terrible, steep rocky slope and under the merciless rain of projectiles and bombs.

That little mountain, that himself had baptized "Bloody Hill", was going to be remembered as one the bloodier places of the world, that was sure... losses were heavy, with a huge number of wounded for the action of shrapnel and slivers of mortar's bomb. But he had every intention of make it bloody especially for the enemies that were holding on fiercely on the top of the hill. The wolves that had threatened Kesteven for so much time... the general that had dared to challenge him and his nation...

The battle of Wycherley is remembered as one of the biggest and hardest battles of the long, warrior's History of Kesteven, probably the biggest. Coming out from a long period of battles against the near kingdoms, Killer's homeland was victorious but still surrounded of mostly untamed enemies, even if weak after the continuous fights. The same Kesteven had loses to weep, but especially it had his army scattered in numerous departments along his long borders and it was, paradoxically, weaker now as nation victorious than before, when at least his army was united, gathered in the same place and ready for fight.

In this situation, an army of wolves had probably signed an alliance with Wentworth and Edwards, two of the beaten but not tamed enemy kingdoms neighboring with Kesteven, obtaining help and permission for walk freely in their territory. So, this army had begun to carry out audacious and vicious raids in the Kesteven's lands, almost every night, daring every time nearer to the capital and every time fleeing again in the territory of Wentworth or Edwards.

The situation was rapidly become intolerable, but follow the wolves in the enemy territory was equal to a war declaration and beside it was like run whistling cheerfully in a huge ambush. Killer, returned to home with the bigger department of the army after a victorious campaign in foreign lands, had gathered in Kesteven the major number of forces possible, ignoring his own fatigue and the tiredness of his soldiers in front of the rapidly worsening situation.

In the same days, in fact, troops of Wentworth and Edwards had joined stably the wolves and a huge army of other species had reached them, too, shaping a huge army ready for a serious attack against Kesteven. The numeric advantage of this army against the Killer's own was of about 15 to 1, and the risk of other deteriorations was high.

Fortunately, tigers were stronger of both wolves, lions and everything else, but only in the hand to hand combat. Unfortunately, on the other side, the enemy was perfectly equipped with the latest fire arms, artillery and tanks and decided to fight the decisive battle with these weapons and not with swords and muscles like the tigers usually do... Besides, the invasion force was guided by a huge black wolf sadly famous for a long career of murders, crimes and rapes, merciless, unbiased and expert of fire arms.

Tall almost thirteen feet, he was much more impressive than the other wolves, even of the members of his army, a huge pack of arctic wolves of considerable sizes, weight and ferocity. He was famous for be an excellent warrior, even if not too fond of loyalty when in bad situation. His reputation was born during some battles against other packs of wolves, then when he had guided a terroristic group of warrior in a two years long bloody enterprise along some tiger's territories and then it was grown incredibly when he had guided a series of lucky campaigns against some tiger's kingdoms.

He was by now seen as a hero, a hope for the oppressed species for break the age of predominance of the tigers, even if he was one of the more despicable guys in the world. He was strong, he was smart and able of create bolt and effective strategies and the promise of power and wealth was enough for control him the minimum indispensable for exploit his abilities. Stupidly, kingdoms of tigers like Wentworth and Edwards had seen in him an easily exploitable cog in the wheel for destroy Kesteven... that was, all in all, the biggest and strongest bulwark of the tiger's dominance.

On 3 January, the ex terrorist wolf known as "Dark", that was probably only a nickname, was probably the strongest man in the world. Under his command, he had virtually Wentworth and Edwards, controlling their two armies, a huge pack of arctic wolves and an enormous army of wolves, lions, horses and much other, with a great fleet of artillery and tanks.

Fortunately, Killer had introduced this kind of equipment from long time in his army... so, at the eve of the decisive fight, he could count on a little but well equipped and trained towed artillery, a recently founded group of self propelled artillery and on two regiments armed with huge and really powerful tanks, plus a regiment of fast jeeps WMKRV for reconnaissance and light cavalry's tasks. He was in huge numeric disadvantage, but he could trust in his men and his equipments and in the common determination of save the homeland. His soldiers were almost all veterans, forged by the battles, heavily trained and well equipped... but Killer had available only three companies of his elite force, the Predators, each with 100 men, and about 13.000 soldiers of the Line's Infantry divisions for face an army of almost 200.000.

On 4 January, at the end of a terrible snowfall lasted for three days, Dark moved rapidly forwards from Edwards, entering in the Kesteven's territory. Finally aware of the position of the enemy, Killer gathered every vehicle available in the capital for move his own forces towards the invasion force with a march with forced stage, as fast as possible. An interminable convoy of tanks, armored transport vehicles, civil cars, trucks, everything, leaved the city of Kesteven, every vehicle full over every limit of soldiers, munitions and supplies. The objective was fight the enemies far from the capital for protect the population and possibly contain the damages. The two armies entered finally in collision in the zone around the little village of Wycherley around the 10.00 pm of the night of the 5 January.

The battlefield was a little uneven plain cut in half by a large river frozen and covered by a thick layer of ice. The left half of the zone was defined by a rocky hill at the west-southern extreme and by the little village of Wycherley at the east-northern one. A road from Kesteven pass in plain and overcome the river with two bridges, one in correspondence of the village and one about two kilometers north of it. Everything was covered by a thick layer of fresh snow, the temperature was terrible and the night foggy.

The first meet between the rival forces happened at the bridge at the village at the 10.06 pm, when an advanced patrol of Kesteven found Wycherley already in the hands of the enemy and tried in vain to keep the possession of the bridge with a short but furious gunfire against stronger enemy forces, before be forced to retreat. Neither ten minutes later, Dark ordered to destroy the bridge for gain time and avoid a direct contact with the always powerful rival army, placing a garrison in the buildings of the village for reinforce the side of his lines.

At the 10.15 pm, also the northerner bridge fell in the hands of Dark, who keep it intact and placed a great force of surveillance on it, beginning to place solid positions in forecast of a long resistance. He ordered also of place demolition charges of high explosives on the two pylons of the bridge for emergency cases. The bridge was indispensable for both the armies: Dark needed it for march on the other shore and open the road for the city of Kesteven, Killer needed it for attack his enemy and stop him from go further forwards. Cross the river on the ice was an invite for be killed: a single attack of artillery or mortars, and the few survivors at the bombs would end in the freezing water under the broken ice and die rapidly. The Dark's orders were to maintain absolutely the possession of the bridge or at least destroy it if really the enemy was too stronger and the position was in danger of fall in the Killer's hands.

Dark lined up his army along his shore of the river, placing furiously mines and large fields of barbed wire in front of his line, then ordered to the soldiers to dig a trench for prepare a long resistance. Behind all this formidable, deadly system of defense, he lined up his artillery. A cannon every five meters, for all the length of the battlefield. About 800 guns, placed between the hill and the village. In the rear echelon he placed also his reserve and his huge fleet of tanks, ready for intervene everywhere along the front or for charge on the bridge and open the way for Kesteven at the right moment. The same general, with his elite force of arctic wolves, reached the top of the hill at the other side and established there a fortified camp, spreading barbed wire and mine fields and placing smartly mortars and machine guns for cover the slope. With the huge number of guns available, he had only to defend that perfect line for win and erase Killer and his army from the face of the Earth. Probably overvaluing the number of the Kesteven's soldiers and underestimating the Killer's ability as strategist, Dark chose a defensive tactic instead of exploit his huge numeric advantage for charge immediately the tired Kesteven's army. The first, heavy mistake.

Killer understood immediately the gravity of the situation, but also his chances of victory and designed immediately a complex plain for overturn the fates of the battle, already largely against him and Kesteven. He exploited at maximum possibilities the fog and the darkness, ordering to his soldiers of dig trenches and holes in the plain... Not for resist there, but for hide a good part of his forces and appear still weaker than he really was and protect his army from the fire of the enemy artillery as best as possible.

Behind the first line, he placed all his artillery, hiding the guns still better, with every smartness and notion of camouflaging. He was well aware that he could use it only later, recognizing the right moment: the enemy artillery was much bigger and well supplied with counter-battery radar and sensors, capable of find the position of the enemy's gun observing his fire. Besides, Dark could see easily the Killer's batteries fire from the camp on the mountain. Killer had absolutely need of the artillery... but make a mistake was a sentence of Death.

Still behind, he hidden the Logistic Tanks of the engineering regiment, vehicles equipped with special systems for open passages in the barbed wire and mine fields and his smart tanks bridge-layer, fulcrum of his plan. On the road, he leaved in waiting his tanks and jeeps, ready for charge. Yes, charge. He had every intention of attack, despite the disadvantage.

At the 11.40 pm, a squadron of 20 tigers of the 1° Company of the Killer's elite force, the Predators, reached silently the shore of the river, about half kilometer south of the intact bridge and opened a hole in the thick ice. They were equipped with a thermal skin diver's wetsuit and little water-proof submachine guns with silencers. Their commander had also a radio on his shoulders and a smart board with watch, GPS receiver and magnetic compass in his hands.

Despite the freezing temperature, only softened by the smart wetsuits, they swam under the layer of ice in the cold water, silently, everyone with the hand on the shoulder of the man ahead, in the complete darkness, the commander first in line, his eyes on the table. When they finally reached the position under the structure of the bridge, between the two pylons, they broken the ice from under the surface, slowly and silently, then exited from the water as dark shadows in the darkest night.

That was the second fire contact of the battle. At the 11.50 pm, the Predators killed silently the two sentinels, one for pylon, and rapidly checked the structure, cutting the cables of the detonators and removing the explosive charges. Two of them undressed the two enemy killed and took their places with their uniforms on, dissolving every suspect in the rest of the enemy guardian force, that was solidly placed on and around the entrances of the bridge.

At the 00.00, on 6 January, the bridge was virtually clean from any explosive charge, even if the certainty was impossible. One of the Predators had given a careful look around on the bridge and seen the main detonator, placed in a position reinforced with sand-sacks and full of soldiers, but they were only a few and their only hope was remain hidden under the bridge. No possibilities of success in a mad attack against that garrison... The other defenses were other positions similar, each with machine guns and even anti-tank cannons. Even without can attack and take the detonator for grant the integrity of the bridge, they had already done much more than forecasted in the best hypothesis. The commander of the squadron transmitted the message of success with his encoded radio, giving to Killer the first good item of news of the day. After the message "Hammer", the commander gave a detailed report about the defensive position of the enemy on the bridge, giving to Killer incredibly precise, amazingly precious, and unexpected situation awareness.

At the 00.25 am, the rest of the 1° Coy Predators reached the bridge from the sky, on board of two black glider, silent and stealth, invisible on the enemy's radars, that had waited flying some miles far away, towed by two aircrafts. The first, huge but light winged body glider landed directly on the right entrance of the bridge, the second landed on the entrance at the other side. Every glider had on 40 Predators heavily armed with assault rifles, grenades, anti-tank rocket launchers, a few machine guns and an heavy anti-tank cannon.

The huge tigers with their white uniforms jumped out from the gliders, shooting furiously and throwing grenades. They knew exactly where shoot thanks to the report of the comrades that now were emerging from under the bridge like demons, causing other panic in the enemy's lines. The defenders, terrorized and disbelieving, tried a defense, but all was vain.

The third fire contact was furious and bloody, but rapid. The Predators killed in a few seconds of fight the incredulous defenders, taking no prisoners. At the 00.28 am, the bridge has changed owners and a first line of defense was already placed, with twelve machine guns (four captured from the enemy), 6 anti-tank cannons (4 captured) and a total of 72 soldiers. Five loses and three wounded soldiers has been the price for Kesteven. The enemy had lost at least ninety men, probably more. A perfect blow of surprise. Killer received with incredible relief the message "Pegasus", which means complete success. His genial, bold and incredibly cheeky plan was gone perfectly.

At this point, the Predators answered at some calls on the radio from the enemy headquarters, talking with the same Dark, sometimes. The noise of the battle for the bridge was gone far in the night and the enemy was suspicious, but the Kesteven's soldiers managed of deceive the rivals until the 01.15 am, passing themselves as the Dark's garrison that they had killed and telling, surprisingly cheeky, to Dark and to his officers the bullshit that they had "...Repelled a Kesteven's attack of valuation on the bridge."

When finally the enemy understood the trick and the artillery begun to thunder, throwing a rain of burning steel on their positions, the Predators entered in the legend giving to Dark and his general staff some insults very creative on the radio. A way as another for keeps high the mood during the rain of Death of the cannons.

But the very important thing, in these first hours of the second day of battle, was that Kesteven was owner of the bridge and that they had gained enough time for clean the road and to permit at the Killer's Cavalry to charge forwards and cross the bridge without meet resistance, at least for a bit, opening a leak in the differently unassailable Dark's front.

Killer was in his mobile command post, surrounded by his better officers and an army of radio-operators, nervous. His spirit was roaring for the wish to run and go in first line with his boys, but he was well aware that in these decisive hours, his place was bended on the maps, as head of the army and not as his heaviest punch. But at the 02.30 am, the battle around the bridge has become a Hell, and he had feel the sensation of be a coward, there, in an armored trailer-command post, far from the place where the fight was burning, where the Death was kissing...

The Predators were in huge troubles. The enemy artillery was the hardest problem... there were no possibility of defense against the rain of steel from the sky that was plowing literally the ground all around them. Enemy infantry was attacking them furiously from the near village with the help of a good number of armored vehicles, but Predators were well equipped for face them. Besides, the enemy had thrown forwards his tanks, littler and weaker than the Kesteven's model, but much more numerous, so the Cavalry was really busy in one of the bigger battle of tanks of the recent History, really too busy for help them. At the very least, fortunately, also the enemy's tanks were stuck, instead of charge on the bridge.

This the decisive moment. At the 03.00 am, Killer, well aware of the deadly risk for the 1° Coy "Predators" and for his two regiments of armored cavalry, played three bold, cheeky moves.

First, the Predators charged forwards instead of remain motionless in defense, attacking the village of Wycherley directly. It would be an hard battle against much more numerous forces well placed in the houses and buildings, but at least the enemy artillery was cut off from the game: shoot on Wycherley was for them friendly fire on theirs soldiers.

Second, Killer dared with his self-propelled artillery, a little regiment of heavy howitzers placed in made-on-measure turrets with automatic charging system, inserted on the body of a normal tank. He made outline the position of the enemy artillery and then ordered to this unit to open fire on the perfectly determined co-ordinates, every time fleeing at full speed after the first shot, for take again the attack from another position, avoiding the furious enemy's reaction.

The game worked wonderfully: thanks to their mobility, the 27 self propelled guns begun to be a serious problem for Dark and his much more numerous and powerful but fixed artillery. The projectiles were fired with great precision on his cannons, every time destroying a precious gun or more and despite the perfect localization that he was able to do every time with his radars, acoustic sensors and even with his eyes, he was incapable of destroy the enemy's SPGs, because the answer of his own guns landed always in an already leaved position. After some minutes of this, he ordered of reduce the use of the artillery and the creation of a group of guns and sensors with the lonely task of try to kill the hateful SPGs. Finally, Kesteven's forces had relief from the furious bombardment.

The third move of Killer was launch his Light Cavalry Regiment in a long, bold attack behind the enemy's lines. The forty jeeps WMKRV roared in the night, getting around the large zone were the tanks of the two armies were fighting and then running down towards the mountain at the other side of the battlefield, bursting into the long line of cannons of the Dark's artillery, shooting with every weapon available for kill the servants and destroy the weapons or the huge piles of projectiles.

The battle lasted all the night, with terrible ferocity and more than a time Killer must fight himself for remain in the command post instead of reach the cauldron. The first company Predators was paying a high price in Wycherley, conquering house after house the entire village and already repelling the first counterattacks. The 1° and 2° Cavalry's regiments were fighting furiously in the plain all around the city against an enemy numerically advantaged and Kesteven was counting heavy loses. The awareness that enemy was paying a still much higher price was a consolation, but not at all.

But the three Killer's moves reached the target, almost hissing the enemy's artillery, reducing drastically the number of the enemy's guns and forcing Dark to move all his reserve and all his tanks against Wycherley for stop the terrible Predators and the powerful Kesteven's cavalry. A side of the battlefield was already in the Killer's hands, and that was going to be very nasty for him.

On 6 January, at about 08.00 in the morning, the sun broken the fog on the battlefield and Dark seen from his camp the other shore of the river, finding out that the Kesteven's army was still weaker than what he had imagined. He had committed a fatal mistake... he had chose a defensive tactic and had lost the control on it, too. He was no longer owner of the left side of his lines and had given a night to the big of the rival army for rest and prepares the fight.

Wycherley was completely in the hands of the exhausted but still combative 1° Coy "Predators", reduced to only fifty or so men but still equipped, trained and strong enough for resist in the conquered city against much more massive forces. The Kesteven's Cavalry was maintaining solidly the rest of the side, offering to the enemy a wall of shooting guns and gaining laboriously and bloodily ground. The Dark's artillery was reduced to a shadow of what was been only a few hours before, by now in numeric disadvantage against the Kesteven's one. Dark had still a great vantage in term of number of soldiers... but the general advantage was rapidly shifting towards Kesteven.

But at the 08.15 am, Killer found that the main offensive was by now indispensable. He had sent some little troops in reinforce to the 1° Coy across the bridge by now ruined after the long fire of the artillery, but for decide the battle he had to launch the decisive, frontal clash and broken the stall's phase.

Kesteven's artillery opened his fire on the trench of Dark, on the mountain and especially on the rival's gun's batteries in a furious attack. At the 09.30 am, a part of the Kesteven's cannons begun to shoot smoke-grenades in front of the enemy's trench, raising a thick curtain of artificial fog along the entire front line.

At the 10.00 am, a wall of smoke covered the movement of the first part of the Killer's army: all the gunners and the snipers of his army reached the best position possible on the shore for cover with their fire the successive phase.

At the 10.30 am, the logistic tanks charged forwards, reaching the shore in accurately selected points, beginning to shoot across the thick artificial fog their special explosive charges for destroy the fences of barbed wire and clean the opposite shore from the mines.

At the 11.00 am, all the Kesteven's infantry raise from his hiding places in the snow, lined up perfectly and marched towards the river with his flags proudly waving in the freezing air, Killer this time finally in first line, just behind the bridge-layer tanks, under the steely umbrella of the continuous fire of the artillery.

The tigers advanced roaring and beating their swords on their rifles or on their armors, together with the solemn, slow rhythm of drums along the line. The racket was terrible for the Dark's soldiers, lacking of sight on the enemy cause' the fog, scared stiff by the terrible bombardment of the artillery and for the roars of the huge warriors, the trench shaking every time when a powerful explosive charge landed on the shore and exploded, destroying the mines and tearing apart the barbed wire... the panic begun to wind in the Dark's lines.

For the exhaust, blood stained and often wounded Predators besieged in Wycherley and for the men of the Cavalry, instead, that was the music of Heaven, and they joined cheerfully the impressive voice of their comrades. Someone later written "that was the voice of the Hell".

At the 11.30 am, 96 bridge-layer tanks reached the shore near at the still working Logistic Tanks and launched their long, steely gangways over the broken ice. The Kesteven's army launched the attack across these passages, being welcomed by the heavy fire of the enemy. Despite the heavy loses, the tigers continued the attack with high mood, 96 floods of warriors emerging suddenly from the fog directly in front of the enemy trench, on a by now completely lacking of mines but plowed, moon-like shore.

At the 01.15 pm, Dark received the notice that the army of Kesteven was solidly landed on his shore, on his side of the river. Every attempt to stop the charge of the tigers has failed, and the fight was becoming a bloody hand to hand. In some points, the enemy warriors were already penetrated in the trench. All the huge army of Dark was already busy in the fight. A reserve was inexistent, apart from his personal army of arctic wolves that was ready in his camp on the top of the mountain, with the mood already destroyed by the impressive sight of the wave of white uniforms that was gaining ground in the plain.

Despite heavy losses, at the 03.20 pm Kesteven was owner of the major part of the trench, the 1° Coy Predators and the Cavalry were advancing with renovated vigor, crushing the scared, exhausted enemy army backwards in the plain.

At 04.45 pm, Dark thought of have found a weak point in the confuse line of Kesteven at the feet of his mountain, that Killer had baptized "Bloody Hill", and launched the arctic wolves at the attack. But the battle was already lost and in answer Killer advanced directly against the wolves with the 2° and 3° Companies "Predators", beginning to destroy the last troops and climb the hard, rocky slope of the hill. That was the beginning of the end.

Now, 05.15 pm of 6 January.

Killer seen again the long battle in his mind in the few seconds that spent so, leaned against the rock. Despite the sorrow for so many good comrades lost on that battlefield, he couldn't repress a grin of cruel satisfaction... he had overturned another time the fates of a battle impossible.

Under his eyes, down in the plain, the white uniforms of his army and the flags of Kesteven were gaining inexorably ground on the by now broken rival. In front of him, despite the terrible terrain and the fierce opposition of the wolves still on the mountain, the Predators were advancing.

Killer had on the black armor of general and two black combat pants in Gore-Tex, all his swords at the belt, a good few long tapes of powerful projectiles for the heavy machine gun in his hands still wrapped around his waist, crossed on his chest and wrapped tight around his muscular right arm. The terrible, huge legendary sword known as "Wyvern" was placed on his back, temporarily useless in the long range fight... but he had on the blood proof of his good work in first line during the bloody crossing of the river and the successive hand to hand. By now was hard guess that his fur was white as the snow around and his armor was black... he was red of blood almost everywhere.

The huge general turned back with a rapid move and a snort, placing the big machine gun the he had in his hands between two rocks and shooting a long burst towards the top of the mountain, searching with his expert glance every little sign of the presence of the enemy. The flash of a shot, the shinning of a barrel or a blade under the sun... everything was good for him for spot a careless enemy and shot him down with a burst.

Killer shot furiously towards the enemy's positions, supplying cover fire to his men that were climbing on the hard terrain. He counted at least eight shooting machine guns on the top of the slope and done his best for answer to their attack better as possible...

"Here I am... sorry for be late, general." Exclaimed a tired voice at his side. Killer raises his eye from the aiming sight of the machine gun with a soft smile.

"Alright... you are the first, in any case."

The soldier at his side smiled a bit, panting and shooting a burst with his assault rifle. He was a young male with a lithe but strong, quite muscular body and a fur strangely black. Completely black... and he was the only tiger in all Kesteven with that characteristic. Beside and still odder, he had on his knees, elbows and shoulders some little, still not so developed bone-spikes... so strangely similar to the much bigger on the body of the legendary general. That was very rare, but not unique... Killer wasn't well aware of the cause, but the Kesteven's breed had gained this genetic strangeness years and years ago and sometimes this characteristic emerged in the new born in the kingdom. Killer had inherited everything, from the leonine features to this strange modification, even if his father, the king, had instead almost no signs of these genetic modifications. Strangeness of the genetic...

In any case, the resemblance with the prince and general were limited to the spikes... With his scarce twelve feet of height, the young corporal was probably the shorter soldier of the entire army, surely the shorter of the Predators, and very far from the more than 15 feet of the huge, powerful general. He wasn't really strong, extremely odd for a Predator: in every fight hand to hand against other tigers he loses and often there were enemies of other species stronger than him, too... For all these reasons, he was a sort of... mascot, for the unit of strong giants that were the pride of Kesteven.

But the young Lance Corporal wasn't in the Predators for sympathy... The same Killer had wanted him there, because the black male was an incredibly determined guy. He had a great wish of do well his duties and be always of help... besides, he was very, very able with swords. Probably the better fencer in the army after Killer. But especially, he was extremely agile and fast.

Killer had found out during a training that the young corporal was able of keep his step and follow him closely almost everywhere, a thing unique... no one else was able of sustain the furious rhythms and efforts of the prince. So Killer had chosen him as radio operator on the field. The black male was his shadow, always with a powerful radio on his back, ready for transmit the orders of the general Wyvern from any point of the front line, in every moment.

The young corporal had on the usual, completely white uniform of Kesteven, with the large, green combat belt full of pockets for ammo, grenades, the ordnance sword and the sheath of the bayonet. That was actually inserted under the barrel of his rifle and largely blood stained... the young corporal has fought really well during the assault in the plain. On the white jacket with the rank's signs on the left shoulder and the coat of arms with the winged sword of the Predators on the right he wore the usual green bandolier for the magazines of the assault rifle. On his back he had a huge green rucksack full of all the rest of the equipment, especially the powerful, encoded radio that was the main reason of his presence on the field. As every Predator, he had on his head a red beret with a little winged sword of silver.

"I have a few messages, corporal." Said Killer over the racket of the battle.

The smaller male at his side knelled down immediately with a nod, taking the radio from the customized rucksack on his shoulders, hidden as best as possible behind the rocks, bullets screaming all around.

"I'm ready, general. Tell me, sir." He said respectful with a nod, headphones on and mike in his hands, a reverent glance for the huge, powerful prince.

"Call the third platoon and say to them to slow down a bit their advancing and move the weight of their attack on theirs left side: the second platoon is in troubles and is remained behind. We risk of see ours line broken, with the enemy that exploit that weak point for divide us in two parts." Wyvern exclaimed over the noise of the machine gun in his hands.

Around them, the Predators were finally reaching the position, exploiting every possible shelter and beginning to thrown bullets towards the top of the mountains.

"Call the 1° Predators and say to them that we are winning thanks to them and theirs blood. They have fought enough... if they want, they can stop and relax a bit."

The black corporal transmitted diligently, saying proudly the name Wyvern at the beginning of every message. He was honored of be at the side of the legendary defender of Kesteven, of be his voice, in some way... and say that famous name was for him a way for feel himself strong. He had always admired so much the huge general... envied him, as well. Always. Killer was a kind of... of god, in all Kesteven and especially in the army. For his soldiers, Wyvern was a god, an example and a precious, severe but always fair comrade. And he was still more for the young lance corporal that had lived in his legend from the first moments of his life.

Killer thanked the black male gently, watching with a smile him put away the radio and reopening fire with the rifle against the enemy, with his usual determination. The enemy fire was becoming furious, the rain of mortar's bomb terrible and more and more accurate... they were running the risk of be put into the sight and destroyed. They were stuck.

Wyvern watched forwards. They had in front of them about other 200 meters of hard climbing on the rocky slope, but the way was blocked by a field of twisted barbed wire and probably of mines large at least 40 meters. Impossible cross it...

"Where are the engineers?" Roared Killer over the racket of the explosions and over the obsessive, deadly sound of the machine guns.

"At least a man has been killed and there were some wounded, general. They had a heavy load of explosives... is not easy climb this fucked hill, especially not with all that shit. They are still somewhere behind!" Shouted a soldier from behind a rock, charging a new magazine in his assault rifle.

Killer cursed under his breath, then jumped on his feet and ran down the hill, diagonally, across the positions of his men, giving words of encouragement, cover fire and orders to the valiant Predators stuck under the tempest of bullets and bombs. The young corporal followed him bravely, shooting with the assault rifle towards the enemy's position, trying to protect the fearless general.

"What's up here, men...? We are going to die here if we don't open a passage in that fucked field, and I mean immediately!" Exclaimed Killer when they reached a group of exhausted engineers that were trying to carry a sort of rubber dinghy full of explosives, detonators, crate of munitions and heavy, ten-feet-long metallic tubes.

The engineers were largely covered of blood, as every soldier of Kesteven by now was, and they had on a uniform almost identical to the others. The lonely difference was a green helmet and the impressive quantity of pockets for almost... everything, it seemed. The officer and his second in chief were pulling the platform with the heavy load holding a thick rope in their hands, at prow. On the left side there were four soldiers for six handles, the other died or wounded badly during the climbing under the enemy fire and on the left there were by now only three soldiers. Another was in a puddle of his own blood on the ground, trembling furiously, gaping at the devastation in his body, filled up with slivers of a mortar's bomb exploded near. Killer watched him with great sorrow, but also with a sort of pride. The soldier was watching him, don't releasing neither a whimper for his pain, carrying a trembling hand to his forehead in a perfect wave. Killer answered with incredible emotion.

"Corporal, help that guy. Use HIS morphine... you could have need of yours before tonight..." Ordered softly Wyvern to the black male, who immediately ran forwards and reached the neck of the wounded guy, searching the phials of morphine and inject it in the body of the unlucky man, whispering encouragements for the comrade, who was gaping, still conscious, trembling madly but still without releasing a sound.

The black male used all the morphine. They were been trained by Killer to hold always the phials around the neck of the uniform and the bags of disinfectant powders in the pocket on the chest of the jacket, so everyone was able of found them and help, at least a bit, without waste his own supply. Then he reached extracted the bags of disinfectant and spread the fine powder on the wounds, carrying the wounded on his shoulder in a more covered position between a pine and some rocks.

"I... I have... to carry..." Babbled the wounded, looking much more relaxed, almost pacified, with the morphine already working on his body.

"I' going to replace you in the work, soldier... be quiet. You have done your duty... the doctors will be here soon, hold on!" Exclaimed Killer, grasping the huge bundle of long tubes from the dinghy and placing it on his right shoulder as if it was weightless. The engineers gaped disbelieving to him, breathing in the same time in relief, free of the huge weight of these explosive tubes.

They were ten feet long tubes of fine steel full of explosive. They were studied for be jointed one to another and form a long-as-you-please explosive device perfect for tear away the barbed wire and make detonate the mines in the ground. They were called "Bangalore" and were a very old system... but always effective.

Killer grasped with his left hand the platform and nodded to proceed. The engineers felt the load suddenly light, most of the weight sustained by the lonely, huge general, and they ran forwards as fast as possible across the hell of screaming bullets and explosions. The young corporal was always around them, giving cover fire and help and when they finally reached the Predators hidden behind the rocks, the soldiers yelled of joy, giving furious cover fire, someone helping with the load. The munitions were a vital bless, and disappeared rapidly in the hands of the soldiers, that were by now with rifles empty and without grenades.

Wyvern distributed the Bangalores after have torn easily apart the iron spring that kept them united in a bundle, forming four operative squads with them. He and one engineer ran towards the field of barbed wire as first squad, and the other three groups, each with three engineers, reached other points of the obstacle, lying down on the ground and beginning to make slide the tubes under the barbed wire, connecting the Bangalores. They were terribly exposed on the steep, rocky ground, but fortunately all the Predators were shooting furiously against the enemy for keep him down and so the wolves were often incapable of shoot on them. Or at least of shoot aiming properly... Beside, a few cannons in the plain begun suddenly to shoot smoke grenades on the top of the hill, blinding the enemy, and a good few others shot good High Explosive rounds on the Dark's camp.

Killer turned back in amused surprise, connecting another Bangalore to the long one under the barbed wire and seen the corporal smile to him with his thumb on, the radio still in his hands. Wyvern understood easily, smiled back and roared in sign of approbation. All the Predators roared in answer.

A few minutes later, the Bangalores exploded, opening four wide, safe passages in the last obstacle, opening the way for the last charge of the great battle of Wycherley. The Kesteven's artillery ceased his fire for don't hit the friends, leaving to the best warriors of the North and probably of the World the task of annihilate Dark and the last survivors.

Killer ran forwards in the smoke, the heavy machine gun thrown away and the loved, completely blood stained Wyvern in his hands. Around him he can hear and almost feel the presence of his comrades. In front of them, still invisible, he can smell the enemy.

When he finally exited from the artificial fog, almost fell in a little trench where three scared wolves tried immediately to aim their machine gun for hit him. Killer slide agilely in the trench, exiting from their firing range and thrown a sabre cut of the terrible Wyvern, snarling. All what he seen after was a wave of dark blood, two bodies falling on the bottom of the hole almost cut in half, dead without thrown a scream. The third man survived, only the sharp point of the sword brushing him, tearing easily the bullet proof jacket and the grey uniform, leaving him terrified. He tried immediately to aim his pistol towards the enemy general, trembling...

Killer raise immediately a foot for a deadly, fast kick, but the enemy literally exploded in front of him, plowed by a furious burst of projectiles in the head and in the by now uncovered, already hurt chest. Wyvern smiled back to the young corporal, that was proudly standing behind him, the rifle still aimed.

The general jumped out from the trench and ran towards a few arctic wolves that were trying to defend a position of mortars, by now useless in the close combat. His faithful "bodyguard" was at his side, shooting with his weapons... But the fight lasted only a few seconds. The terrible, ten-feet-long blade of the Wyvern was a weapon absolutely scary, and Killer killed two wolves with a lonely sabre cut, then pierced the huge sword in the chest of the third, his left, free hand running to his belt and unsheathing also the eight feet blade on the back, carrying out immediately with it a deadly sabre cut towards his side, mowing down a fourth soldier that was trying to reach him with a much shorter and weaker weapon. Another, scared stiff, screamed madly, closing shut his eyes in panic and threw his arms up in sign of surrender... but too late. The deadly projectile was already departed from the rifle of the black male.

Then Wyvern walked forwards, the two huge swords in his hands, his eyes fixed on the enormous, absurdly luxurious curtain that was obviously the apartment-command post of his rival, Dark... three wolves ran towards him, but one fell immediately on the ground with a ridiculous, shocked expression when the young corporal placed three bullets in his chest with coldness. The huge general walked calmly forwards, at the last moment raising the Wyvern with a fast move in front of the first wolf, who decapitates himself on the red blade, without reach with his much shorter one the body of the rival. The other wolf tried to sink his sword in the neck of the white tiger from the other side, snarling, but Killer bended on his left side rapidly and threw a formidable lateral kick in the legs of the enemy, making fall him heavily forwards. The wolf neither touched the ground: at middle road he met the spiked knee of the right leg of Killer, which destroyed easily his head in a scary spray of blood and crap. A fifth soldier, still some feet away, seen the terrible show leaved his sword and fled madly, screaming.

But then Killer seen the same Dark walk slowly out from the curtain, and huge, grey sword of simple, strong steel in his hand, a grey bullet-proof armor on his bulky, muscular body and an impenetrable glance of both fury and cold resignation...

They were separated by maybe thirty feet, surrounded by a still furious close combat between tigers and arctic wolves, a primitive clash of giants... but Kendrew was clearly winning. Behind Killer, at his right side, appeared a soldier with a long, steely spear in his hands, with a threadbare flag of Kesteven attached who waved lazily a bit in the freezing air. At his left side, the young corporal was still with him, watching up at his cold blue eyes with veneration and curiosity.

The two generals watched each the other for a little time, without talk... the soldiers around begun to understand the situation and all the battle slowed down, the men of both the armies watching nervously theirs commanders more than try to kill the direct rival.

"Ceasefire!" Roared Dark to his men. Killer done the same and them both raise their swords, Killer sheathing again the eight feet one and bowing his head a bit respectfully. Dark done the same and the tigers and the wolves begun to gather around the two, forming a tight circle. A tiger, a wolf and then again a tiger, as they weren't enemies, in a ritual old of centuries. The last duel. No withdrawal, no surrender. One of the two would exit from the circle only died.

Killer watched the rival, searching immediately his weak points, trying to read in his mind... the wolf was screening himself with his thick sword raise in front of his chest, snarling furiously towards him. But Wyvern was too used to fights for notice a snarl more or less anymore and remained impassive, moving only his cold eyes, analyzing the rival.

Dark charged forward, aiming clearly at his right shoulder with his own, sabre cutting his grey sword towards the low, left hip of Killer, only point almost uncovered from his defense. Wyvern reacted fast, throwing the huge red blade of the Wyvern against the wolf's sword and lowering his shoulder, opposing to the charging rival a wall of spikes. Dark released a cry of pain when the sharp bones torn apart badly his shoulder, sending him to the ground with violence.

The circle moved forwards, the tigers advancing of a step, snarling, the wolfs with more hesitation... but Dark jumped immediately again on his feet, almost as if he wasn't neither knock down. His right shoulder was reduced to grinded meat, with a deep, large wound that let see part of the bone inside, blood straining along his muscular arm, but he was still able of fight and determined. The circle stopped his move, returning to wait for finish the first of the two warriors that would give in.

Dark fought at the pure wolf's manner, trying to send the rival to the ground and open the way for bite directly at the throat, were the life is so near to the surface, often using the sword more for keep under pressure the enemy defense than for kill. And he was a master in this style...

But Killer was used to this and other kinds of attacks. He was general from ten years and in ten years he had faced wars almost one after the other. He had fought almost everywhere in the world, meeting different species and different stiles of fight, learning to face them. Learning to use them... His fury was always cold, never blind. In the passion of kill, in the research of the victory, two things were always in his mind: loyalty and the awareness that the enemy was searching the same victory as him.

In vain Dark tried furiously with every variation on his style to overcome Killer's defense and sink his fangs under his white mane, in his neck. Every time, instead, Wyvern has been able of parry out the attacks with skilled, fluid moves of the huge sword that gave to him his nickname, often overcoming the defense of the rival. Dark was already largely wounded, his shattered shoulder was weakening him... Killer instead had only some insignificant wounds on his arms, for the major part gained during the confused, furious phases of the huge close combat in the plain after the crossing of the river.

Dark moved on another charge, sinking the sword towards the abdomen of the huge rival and jumping towards his throat, but instead, at the last moment, meanwhile the huge, red sword moved for bar the ways for the abdomen and the jugular, he lowered his head towards the shoulder, throwing out also a punch towards the tiger's muzzle.

Killer parried out the punch and used the flat of his blade for stop the enemy's one, but snorted in rage understanding that he had made a mistake, overestimating the threat of the punch... he tried to stop the wolf with a rapid, venomous whip whit his tail, but despite the violence of the blow, which opened easily a good part of the armor on the back of the rival, leaving a bad, deep wound with the spike in the final tuft, Dark attacked furiously. The big wolf lowered snarling on his right shoulder, just where the armor ended, and his powerful fangs closed on the Wyvern's muscles.

The white tiger roared in pain and rage, stepping backwards, the wolfs around growling threateningly... but he snarled and raise the Wyvern, ramming the sharp hilt in the wounded back of the wolf, again and again, taking out from him high cries of deep agony. But Dark don't gave in, trying to close his jaws on the steely, working muscles of the rival, trying to tear them apart... trying desperately to hit with his punch and all his strength the huge tiger, but was like try to stop a running train.

Wyvern grasped the right wrist of Dark and snapped easily the bone with a growl, the sword falling from the trembling hand of the wolf and he contracted his powerful shoulder's muscles for match the strength of the enemy's jaws and avoids serious damages. Then, with a growl, he rocked his opened muzzle towards the exposed neck of the wolf.

The ex terrorist leaved the hold and jumped backwards, but the scary fangs of Killer torn away from his body a good part of meat around his neck, missing for a puff the vital artery in an explosion of blood.

But Dark missed the time for cry for this. Even the time for think to the next move. Wyvern hadn't leaved his broken wrist, and the huge strength of the tiger had easily stopped his jump of retreat... He wanted to go away and save himself, Killer instead pulled him furiously directly on his ready, spiked knee, sharp bones shattering easily the armor and then the abdomen. The wolf cried in agony, but, with incredible coldness, he managed with a supreme effort of free his destroyed wrist from the rival's hold.

The wolf fell on the snow red of blood with another cry, watching with terror the tiger charge forwards, the Wyvern ready for the decisive blow... but Dark suddenly grinned cruelly, his safe hand reaching fast an hidden object on his belt, unsheathing it rapidly and rising it in front of the rival...

Killer understood just in time, raising the huge, thick flat of the Wyvern in front of his muzzle as a shield, growling in fury. Another one had broken the Laws of the Glory, another page of the ancient, glorious Warrior's Code has been outraged by a maggot asshole... the age of the loyal heroes was really dying.

The heavy automatic pistol in the hand of Dark barked rapidly three times... but the grin on the face of the wolf died immediately when the first bullet screamed uselessly in his hit against the thick Wyvern and the other two sank in the black armor of the white tiger, who continued to charge, ignoring the hits on his chest. It was like throw tennis balls against a running train...

Killer roared in fury, his kick destroying literally the still stretched out hand of Dark, sending the weapon away in pieces, then his foot strike against the lower muzzle of the terrified lupine, cracking the jaws in a wave of blood, slivers and crap and sending the ex terrorist in the air.

Immediately, a huge hand of the prince of Kesteven grasped rudely the almost unconscious body from a hip, and Dark screamed in agony, feeling other bones creak and then explode in slivers inside his body... but he missed the time for worry about.

The huge, incredibly sharp and dangerous sword called Wyvern shinned in front of him with his deadly, blood-like reflection. Dark snarled furiously for an instant, almost trying to scare the Death that was coming... but Death is extremely hard to seduce and still more to frighten off.

And then, with a spray of dark blood, the blade traveled cleanly across his neck and his head fell on the ground with a funereal sound. Killer snorted with an irritated glance, throwing rudely on the ground also the headless body and sheathing the Wyvern on his back, watching his soldiers broken the circle and aim the rifles directly at the muzzle of the survived wolfs, who were already putting down their weapons with resignation. The battle of Wycherley was won.

At 03.16 pm on 6 January, the hard, bloody fight was end. Kesteven had suffered loses, in terms of life, of about the 12%, with a 15% of wounded and loses of material almost insubstantial. At 10.00 pm of 5 January, the wolf named Dark, ex terrorist, murderer and general, was the stronger man in the world, ready for crush Kesteven, conquer the throne and erase probably forever the domination of the tigers. At 07.16 pm on 6 January, Dark was only a headless corpse on the ground, his army reduced to a faded memory: the losses of life were around the 75%, with almost a 20% of prisoners and loses of equipment of 100% between destroyed, abandoned, damaged or captured by the enemy.

Killer watched the wound on his shoulder, sighing and thinking with rage that he could avoid it... it was quite deep and bad locking, but wasn't nothing too worthy of worries. It was the worst wound gained in all the battle, and wasn't so much... it was surely going to heal without leaving scars. Sure, it was bleeding and was hurting like hell, but he had seen and felt much worse things. He thought that it could wait... he had a raid to do and, especially, the military doctors would be extremely busy with much more important wounds on his valiant soldiers. They had the precedence.

They lowered and removed the black flag of the New World's Order Army, NWOA, the pseudo-terroristic group that was the army of Dark and that was become a point of reference for the extremists of all the world and replaced it with the red cross in white field with the golden, winged sword of Kesteven, presenting the honors with commotion in the middle of the camp, completely conquered, surrounded and full by now only of terrorized females of various species and material of every kind in the curtains.

"You are all valiant soldiers... between the best men that I have ever met. Other men of incredible value unfortunately had returned today their glorious spirit to the sky, but... Several hours ago, we were lost in darkness, at the mercy of a much stronger enemy and of ourselves... thank to you, now, instead, we are victorious. I'm going to reward generously you all for yours bravery... But I want to reward my young, brave corporal right now for his impressive behavior of today." Told Killer proudly for his gathered soldiers under the waving flag.

The Predators shouted cheerfully for the young "mascot" of the regiment, who walked slowly forwards, shy, reaching the huge prince with a deep bow. Killer smiled to the young black male and removed one of his medals from his black armor, bending down on the smaller officer for pin the shinning Silver Star on the chest of his uniform. The boy smiled, grateful, feeling a great pride for himself... the same legendary general Wyvern had given to him one of his own medals!

"You are going to follow me in the curtain of Dark, if you want... you will can choose everything... and everyone you want for you." Whispered Killer with a nod. That was a huge honor, be authorized to accompany the general in the raid... even share the same loot. The same females... The young tiger gaped, babbling a shy, respectful thank to the giant prince.

"What's your name, lance corporal?"

The corporal smiled, pleased. His eyes, of the same red of the fire, shinned proudly in being treated with such attention and favor by the powerful warrior. "My name is..."

Killer suddenly waken up rudely, opening his eyes with a soft shake of his head. He watched the darkness around him with a snort, unused to that kind of awakening... he was in his bed, in the bedroom of his wonderful palace. It has been only a... well, not a nightmare. It's hard have a nightmare when you are a huge, powerful warrior and you have the luck of live a life all in all beautiful... no, it has been... it has been a simple memory that for months he had felt blurred in his mind every time he thought to Riaku. A memory that he had unconsciously tried to awake, not understanding... and now, in the night, he had seen it, finally. He had lived again all the battle of Wycherley, probably the climax of his legendary career as general.

"Riaku... that boy! That young, brave corporal..." Killer watched the ceiling, muttering quietly under his breath, almost disbelieving... but the image in his mind was by now clear...

"My name is Riaku, general..." Wyvern remembered. He was so proud to say finally his name to me... he was a bit obsessed with me, I guess... He grinned a bit, remembering how much the corporal admired him, almost revered him. I've gave him one of mine silver stars... gods, he had really deserved it, that day. He had followed me in every moment of the battle... his sword or his rifle was always at my side or just behind me, ready for help. And we have fought as never before, that day... then we have shared a female. He remembered with an amused smile... I think she was the mate of Dark, even... a very nice lioness, strangely. We have given her a very nice, complete treatment, no doubts.

Killer closed his eyes... Riaku, his rival... everything was right, suddenly clear. But also so incredible and surprising... comrades. Mates of pack...

Stepbrothers, probably...

The huge white male turned slowly to his right side with a wide smile... Alexis was sleeping quietly, a bit huddled up against his bigger, muscular body, hers left arm embracing tightly his huge right one, hers right hand still placed immodestly on his flaccid but massive black cock, hers wonderful breast rising softly, rhythmically with hers breath.

They were married from only from... from about 14 hours, said a rapid check on the clock on his bedside table, which signed the 6 in the morning... but everything was like if they had always been so, together, and by now was completely impossible for each of them think of their life without the other.

Killer watched her with a soft smile on his muzzle, devouring another time the beauty of hers body, the unsuspected erotic charm that even her golden hair spread all around hers head and on hers muzzle had... They were still naked from the long, good love that they had shared before fall asleep, their clothes spread all around in the huge room or over the large-as-a-square canopy bed. He had on only the necklace with the projectile of gold, she the wonderful jewel with the blue diamond and the perfect twin of the same golden bullet.

Killer gathered softly the blanket over the body of hers beautiful queen and bended down his head on hers own, kissing sweetly but almost imperceptibly hers shinning hair on hers forehead.

Hers wonderful blue eyes shinned immediately in the darkness, watching up towards him. They were smart, cheerful and always well awake, so full of life... was almost impossible understand that she was sleeping just an instant before... "What's up, my love?"

"Excuse me... I didn't want to awaken you... but you are so beautiful that I couldn't restrain a kiss." He said softly, blushing a bit and thanking the darkness that hides that.

"Kill...It's me. I've always had a light sleep. But what's up...?" She said sweetly, climbing on his muscular chest and watching him with affection.

"Nothing, Alexis... is.. is alright."

"Naaah. It isn't, my love... I see it in your eyes. What's in you?" She asked gently, stroking softly his cheek and stretching out hers tongue for a short, affective lick on his muzzle.

"I've... I've remembered a few things, my love. It's fair that you know them..." Said him with firm voice after have answered at hers affection. He told to her of the battle, holding her body on his own, embracing her tightly in his arms, hers own placed lovely behind his head, ruffling slowly and affectively his mane. Then he told her of Riaku.

"And so, Riaku is..." She begun slowly, still disbelieving.

"At the very least, a mate of pack. A son of Kesteven. Probably is one of mine stepbrothers... you know... in a pack, the 70% at least of the cubs is of the king... the odds are very elevated. But I'm sure we aren't brothers. Riaku would be an illegitimate son of my father the king and one of the females of Kesteven... surely not of my mother, the queen, of this I'm sure. If I'm really lucky, Riaku could be son of one of the couples of soldiers, officers and females... you know how works ours species...." He answered with a deep sigh. "Oh, Alexis... I'm so sorry. All that pain, because of a... of mine stepbrother."

Alexis turned back and kissed him with love, wrestling his tongue in his mouth for long time until break slowly the contact, fixing him in his eyes. "Is not you fault, Killer... is not your fault. You really can't be responsible of the actions of the others. Don't mind for this, ok? I love you. I will always love you."

Killer smiled and then kissed her with a grateful, hungry murr and she answered with sweet purrs, wrestling hers tongue against his own and moving hers hot body on his muscular one, sandwiching tightly his massive shaft between them, despite how tired she was... gods, he had mounted her so much times, so wonderfully just a few hours before...

"I love you, Alexis... I love you so much..." He said with a wide smile when finally their kiss broken and they shared simple, sincere affections.

"The battle of Wycherley... was so impressive. I remember I was already colonel, that time and I was one of the envoy of the Glacial's Army's delegation, come in the successive days for study the battle, talk with someone and gather information... shortly, learn some lessons from you." Said Alexis with a smile a bit later, stroking slowly his cheek with one hand and his enormous cock with the other.

"You were in that delegation...? Damn... I thought that they were all boring officers and I sent only some representatives..." Laughed Killer, even if with a bit of bitterness. "In uniform you have to be still more wonderful..."

Alexis laughed, too. "Yeah, male... I think you should like the sight. I remember... I was there only for see yours bigger triumph... hoping to see you. But you were somewhere on the battlefield still covered of corpses and no one has been able to say where to me."

"I was almost surely in the middle of the ruins of the village of Wycherley... we was recovering the corpses of died Predators of the 1° Coy, who gave to me the victory. I couldn't miss these moments... I still remember the names of all the 100 Predators of the 1° Coy. They are surely the best men that I have ever met... and 62 of them are dead in that battle..." Alexis made narrower hers embrace, feeling easily the shadow of sorrow in his apparently unchanged voice. "But even when I launched the authorization to cease the fight and take a bit of rest, they continued to fight bravely." He remembered then with pride.

"I remember... yours officers, even the youngest ones, leaved on me a huge impression. It seemed that everyone in yours army was able to give lessons to us... I think that, after you, is the major reason because Kesteven is considered a wonder." She stopped, stroking a hand gently on his huge chest, and then laughed softly a bit with herself. "Yeah, probably you don't know... I guess that they haven't the bravery for say so in front of you... but apart from the reverent "general" or "Wyvern", they were used to call you playfully "Bullet Magnet", cause you were always a vital target for the enemy, and remain near to you was very, very dangerous..."

Killer laughed, embracing her tightly on his muscular body. "Nice... I've never heard it before. But I guess it works perfectly, in fact..." They remained silent for a bit, caressing sweetly each the other in the darkness.

"Why you haven't founded a unit of Predators also here? Wyvern is not the same without his always faithful special army..." She suddenly asked softly.

"The truth? Is cruel, maybe, but... I've thought that those men aren't worthy of my boys of Kesteven. These were real warriors... even now, after all the work that I've imposed to them and shared with them, mine actual army would probably last only a few minutes in front of the old guard of Kesteven..." He answered with an enigmatic smile.

"Please, found again the Predators... I miss my life as colonel, and I've always dreamed of enter in yours legendary army, the wonder of the north... you can't really say that I'm not worthy, can you? Be careful with yours answer, I can still kick you in your balls if you act wittily..."

"I give in against this violence..." He answered amused. "You can surely knock down every one was in the original companies... and I'm sure that you will be able of mold a marvel out from those boys. Tomorrow I will found again the Predators."

Alexis turned back and kissed him with great passion, wrestling his tongue fiercely in his mouth, electing from him a pleased, surprised grunt.

"WE are going to mold a marvel... a lot of marvels, together, my love."

Killer blinked, awakening again with a soft yawn and a pleased glance. A well known, skilled mouth was working sweetly around his massive cock, which was already reacting with an imposing erection.

"Good morning, Nike..." He said with a large, amused smile.

"Good morning, Highness..." Meowed the tall female rising hers pleased glance from the huge black cock to the eyes of the king, then bowing immediately down hers head in complete submission. She was knelled down between his legs, hers left hand toying sweetly with his massive balls and hers right hand stroking the by now fully erected, powerful shaft. "I was a bit worried about... well, I wasn't sure if I could come also if your highness is... well, married, now... but..."

Killer placed one hand on hers head and ruffled hers red mane a bit, softly, then changed his affection in complete domination as he pulled her again on his huge cock, which was beginning to leak pre, electing from her a delighted, submitted purr. "You have done the right thing, there, Nike... you are still mine little bitch."

The female opened hers mouth and licked the huge cock, giving to the male a delicious, pettishly glance with hers beautiful green eyes... he remembered the first time that she had watched him. Insolent and haughty, so she was when he had found her as queen of Kendrew. But the lesson that he had gave to her has been learned perfectly. Now she was a delicious pet starving for satisfy all his desires. She was completely submitted to him.

Killer guided decidedly hers head on his massive shaft and she opened wide her jaws with a fast lick on hers lips, trembling a bit in fear and desire, before close her eyes with a soft murr and force his behemoth cock head in hers mouth, electing from him a pleased growl.

Alexis awoke softly, hers head placed on his muscular chest, and watched with a purr of interest the tall female suck the huge cock of his husband with great pleasure before turn back and watch in his eyes with a smile.

"Good morning, my love." She meowed with a grin, grasping gently his huge erected cock and stroking it softly from the girthy base almost to the lips of Nike that was sucking it. "So this is yours personal alarm clock, huh...? Beautiful bastard..."

Killer laughed softly, watching her sensual eyes with a wide smile as he pulled her close and kissed her hungrily, with a domineering but soft growl, wrestling furiously hers tongue with his own, daring towards hers throat and filling his ears with her affective purr. He raise his free hand for stroke gently hers perfect breasts, embracing in his fingers hers firm tit, toying softly with hers nipple as she masturbated him furiously and traced the other hand hungrily on his muscular, powerful body.

They worked their muzzles together for long time, exploring their bodies, their eyes joined with love and animal lust, growling and purring in pleasure with the wet, choked sounds of the furious sucking of Nike, hers delighted, submitted murr and the soft, damp sound of the masturbation that the two females were giving to him as background.

When they broken slowly theirs kiss, licking their muzzles hungrily and panting, watching each the other with wide smiles, she bowed down hers head in submission.

"You have said that you love this kind of things, my wonderful bitch..." He said gently, placing softly his hand on hers head. "And seems you like it also right now... don't you love it?"

Alexis purred with submission, lying down slowly on his muscular body with a delighted sigh. Then she turned towards the imposing cock and kissed it lovely. "I love it, master. I love it so much..." She said sincerely, she, the one always so cold and proud, the beautiful but freezing, smart queen-sniper of the north, feeling a love so big for him to... to feel the need of show complete humiliation in front of him. Of show a total submission. A total veneration for the huge male that, first and last, had defeated her loyally on the ring, made her fall in love... a total veneration for that enormous cock that was so able of give to her that unmatched pleasure. "I love it, my god, I love it madly..."

Killer smiled, bringing his hand from hers head to hers vagina, placing softly his fingers on it and feeling her pleasure, her juices and electing from her a strong groan of deep lust, hers body shivering in pleasure, hers body arching...

Alexis was masturbating him furiously with her hands, watching the immense, powerful shaft with lust and desire, with malicious, perfect ability of seduction daring sometimes only some soft kiss, leaving hers saliva largely leak on it, thick strings of saliva mixed with pre attached at hers mouth as proof of how many she desired him...

She felt his hand dance lightly on hers wet, hot vagina with a shiver and licked her lips, watching him with a pettishly glance, begging him of go on in hers gate and authorize her to show hers adoration for his huge black tower of steely flesh. "Please, my god... I pray you..."

Killer watched her with a pleased grin, feeling a wave of burning pleasure and power rise in his body, seeing that extraordinary female elect him as hers complete, all powerful owner... He pushed stronger with his hand on the head of Nike, imposing to her a speeding up notable in the rhythm of hers sucking, beginning in the same time with a domineering growl to move his powerful hips, pumping his massive spear of black flesh in hers throat with great power. He was remembering to every one that even when submitted, Alexis was always the queen, was always his love... the real bitch was Nike, who was choking and gulping on his humongous length, keeping also hers groans and purrs of deep ecstasy, trying to follow the furious facefucking of the huge, powerful male, hers tits bouncing madly, hers vagina spurting juices of pleasure on his crotch for being treated as a slave.

"My balls, little bitch... work with these sweet little hands..." Ordered him to Nike with a domineering grin, remembering to the female that she was only his pet, his toy, continuing to pump his hugeness in her under the delighted eyes of Alexis.

The queen kept humbly working with hers mouth on the gargantuan cock, not daring to follow hers desire and suck it without the permission of the master, inside her praying him of insert his fingers in hers boiling vagina and feed the huge pleasure that she felt... and she groaned, understanding with lust the humiliation of the moment for Nike.

She, Alexis, his love and queen, was in that moment only a slave... but Nike was still less. She was venerating the huge cock of the male, all her reduced to two working hands on his massive, heavy balls and a mouth around the scary pole of black meat... No, she was still less... a nice, dead or inanimate toy that he was using for masturbate. This awareness, the awareness of be a slave in his powerful hands and the sight of the choking Nike, of hers helpful mouth that he was violating more and more and almost with contempt, was feeding a mad pleasure in her...

He grinned and nodded to her, that immediately, with a hungry groan of lust, begun to suck his cock, changing hers skilled moves on it from affective to acts of complete adoration. That male, that cock was hers divinity...

He released a delighted murr and slipped suddenly a finger in her soaked vagina, electing from her almost a scream of satisfaction. Killer moved his finger in her for a bit, slowly, teasingly, then he withdrawal it and sucked it, tasting hers pleasure with a purr of approbation. Then he placed his hands again on hers hot gate, sliding two fingers inside and working slowly in her, reciprocating the pleasure that she was giving to him with hers mouth, hands and breasts.

The two females worked lovely on his cock, building up his orgasm sucking together his cock, teasing softly his huge balls and showing their complete submission for him. Nike pumped him furiously, moving hers tongue on the huge shaft, rocking hers head back and forth with his domineering hand as guide, Alexis licked and sucked wonderfully the rest of the long shaft, helping the ex queen in toying with his balls, until he finally exploded.

Killer comes with a long, satisfied roar, shooting dense, heavy jets of seed in the throat and mouth of Nike, who tried with pleasure to swallow all his huge load of cum. But after a few huge spurts, she released the cock with a lustful groan, the cock still shooting sticky white fluid on all hers face, until Alexis replaced Nike for take in and on her the rest.

When the male finally come to an end, they smiled reverently to him and bowed theirs head, his seed on all hers faces and on hers breasts, their mouths full of him, still stroking with adoration the huge cock.

Killer remained some moments at closed eyes, with a murr of pleasure, and then he stroked the muzzle of Nike and embraced Alexis, pulling the queen on his body.

"Thank you, Nike... you can go. I will see you later." He said with a satisfied smile, watching the female bow down respectfully in front of him and leave the room with a smile, picking up her scarce clothes and taking the way for hers room. Then he turned towards Alexis with a wide smile that she reciprocated, happy.

"A so good way to begin the day, huh?" He said playfully as she grasped again his fully ready shaft and stroked it, meowing for him to fill her. The day of the king was begun...