The Devil's Cage

The Origin Force!

Kieran’s heart clenched for a while when the thought came into his mind.

He still couldn’t understand what Origin Force was but it was undoubtedly powerful.

If it wasn’t for the arrogance of the Prairie King, he might have kicked the bucket despite him having [Ring of the Serpent King].

After all [Snake Molt] had a cooldown timer of a week!

A week’s cooldown time was enough for the Prairie King to tear him into millions of pieces.

Kieran didn’t once doubt the hatred of the Prairie King for him.

He carefully placed the [Unknown Goatskin] into [Crimson Ghost Stomach].

Although the Duke of Zilin beside him should understand the Prairie language, he wouldn’t ask for the Duke’s help. Kieran hadn’t gained enough to trust the Duke completely, despite him displaying a high level of honor and pride.

Aside from that, Kieran had a better candidate to aid him, Mary!

Mary was fluent in the Prairie’s language, Kieran confirmed it before he even went back to Riverdale for the first time.

In fact, not only the Prairie’s language, Mary knew a thing or two about all the neighboring countries languages as well.

It was all because of her mother’s teaching. Once the first seat of Raven Sect, Ellen didn’t spare any efforts in teaching her own daughter and she succeeded!

Through Fire Raven’s sight which had flown up, soaring over the battlefield, Kieran clearly saw what was happening outside Lightning Fortress.

An uproar occurred among the Prairie soldiers!

Lapierre didn’t die off silently, a lot of the Prairie soldiers saw his head fly off.

That fearsome Prairie general’s body lay straight outside the cowhide tent, his head was far away from his body and blow flowed out from his neck like a small stream of a river, soaking the ground red.

The white wolf that vanished struck fear in the guarding soldier’s heart.

They called in more soldiers and checked on the situation.

Soon, many more of them realized something wasn’t right during the calling.

Some of the leaders of the tribes didn’t appear.

The adepts of the Viper Sect carried out their assassination mission perfectly.

Those Prairie leaders died silently inside their own tent and those soldiers who checked on them had their forehead and back drenched in cold sweat when they saw the terrifying scene.

"This is the wrath of the Wolf God! The Wolf God forbid us from warring here!"

One of the guard soldiers who saw Lapierre beheaded by the white wolf cried out loud.

He then ran back to his tent, packed his weapons and rode his horse back to the prairies.

His action was like a falling domino as it started a chain reaction.

A small change triggered a series of desertion as many more soldiers mimicked the first’s action, including some of the tribe leaders.

The Wolf God has the highest authority and power in the prairies and almost all of the Prairies soldiers believed in it.

However, greed could corrupt their beliefs easily.

Some of the tribe leaders brought their men away but the majority of the surviving tribe leaders chose to stay.

They found it hard to ditch the immense wealth beyond that fortress.

Those who stayed, those who ran, the commotion drove the main camp into chaos, especially those minor tribes who lost their leaders even turned to the source of the whole mess. Their eyes were filled with rage when they saw those surviving tribe leaders.

Then, the words of provocation sounded.

"The bigger tribes want to take over our tribes!"

"Think of the attack a few days ago!"

"They sent our warriors to die and now they want to occupy our wealth just like they did last time!"

It was the handy works of the Raven Sect’s spies.

Those Prairie soldiers who lost their leaders became infuriated. The charge at Lightning Fortress a couple days ago happened before their own eyes and they even saw that some of the other tribes benefited from the death of others.

Harvested rewards were always good but once it was lost...

It would be hard for one to bear!

Puk!

Blood splashed as one of the Prairies head flew up high.

A Prairie tribe leader had his head cut off and the macho soldier who beheaded the leader was viciously smiling at the people around him.

"Zimorde, what are you doing!" The crowd shouted.

"What am I doing? People of the Thousand Wolves Tribe, are we still waiting here for the butcher’s knife cleave down on our neck? Our leader was killed by these jackals! Should we stay back doing nothing and wait for the others to plunder our horses, our weapons, our cows and sheep?" The man named Zimorde yelled loudly.

His cry was like a raging wave as it spread out silencing the others in an instant.

"No!"

"No!"

Scattered voices first sounded, followed by a vigorous uproar from the others.

"Very well! We won’t stay back and let them slaughter us! We will protect our cows and sheep, we will return to the grass of Thousand Wolves, the fertile lands that brought us up... Who dares stand before us is our enemy!"

The young and ambitious Zimorde hopped on his horse.

His mind already painted the picture of him dominating the entire tribe after leading his people back to the grasslands but an arrow flew in and crushed the young warrior’s dream.

"Argh!"

A poison arrow was shot on to Zimorde’s chest, toppling him from his horse.

The Thousand Wolves tribe was shaken.

Rage filled their hearts right after, they soon turned their attention towards the origin of the arrow.

They spotted their mortal enemy, the Moon Owl tribe which had waged war against the fertile lands of Thousand Wolves more than a dozen times.

What would happen when grudges and rage were mixed together?

"CHARGE!"

A sudden shout sounded and drove the Thousand Wolves’s warriors charging into Moon Owl’s crowd.

The Thousand Wolves were coming at them furiously, the Moon Owl too retaliated without showing weakness since Zimorde beheaded their leader a moment ago.

What else was there to say when the new grudge was added to the old ones.

The other tribe leaders around too looked at each other, spotting the malicious vigilance on respective faces.

At the times of chaos, only the Prairies King could calm his men down using his reputation and also his absolute strength, but...

The king was already dead!

Chaos was inevitable as it swept across the Prairie’s main camp.

...

Lightning Fortress too saw the chaos breaking out.

They had prepared for this moment yet their hearts were still pounding in fear and anxiety.

Mary was riding on a white horse with a body of armor that barely fit her figure. She looked at her troops as her eyes glanced over all of their faces.

She too felt the anxiety and fear of her men but it wasn’t an excuse for her to give up.

Kieran had done enough for her and from there onwards, she had to advance on her own.

Mary took in a deep breath before saying out loud.

"Men! Our time is now! This is our only chance! Behind us are civilians who are still retreating, your families, neighbors, friends, or even lovers might be among them and standing in front of us is our enemies, fallen into chaos! We might strike them down with a single hit or they might destroy us all... I don’t have much to tell you but I assure you, if we couldn’t cheer as a victor on the battlefield, we will rise again from the land of the dead!"

"I, Mary James, heir to the Warren throne swear on my name!"

Her tender voice echoed around Lightning Fortress.

Tssk Gak!

As the capstan turned, the crude gate of Lightning Fortress was opened.

A white horse carrying a young female knight dashed out like an arrow let loose.

Followed by thunderous gallops behind her.