After Wendigo's report, I didn't wait before ordering Pest to teleport me to the same coordinates I previously threw her squad at. There was no time to waste. I had no illusions that my army will last for long, as a distraction or as fighters, and had to strike before the enemy could unite again.
My wings carried me over the half-thawed planes like an arrow towards the columns of smoke on the horizon. I saw them long before I reached the city where Wendigo and her soldiers had their fun, and knew that there was a lot of fun to be had for them. And not only in the city—the wind brought the scent of smoke and blood from other directions, too. This wasn't the only settlement in the area.
Isn't that just great when people love their jobs? I was anticipating mine. Anticipating the moment when my fangs will bite down on divine flesh again, when my claws will tear the bastards' bodies… I forced myself to fly faster, at the same time sending outward my mental projection.
