Novel & Cerita Krogan Without Armor

“There's an attack on the pack. Take care of Gianna. I’m going to check it out.” I give Gianna one last glance, wishing I didn't have to leave her side and dash into the woods. Duty calls. What I find is not a pretty sight. Most of our warriors are down. Huge chunks of their flesh have been ripped out. The rogues have red-demonic eyes and they smell like rotting flesh. It’s unlike anything I've ever seen. I see Reece and Zane fighting off some rogues and I join the fight. “What the hell are these things?” I ask just as I kick away a rogue that tried to sneak up on me.

Cygnus said as he kissed the top of my head. In my self-consciousness, I hadn’t noticed what they were wearing. Their matte chrome metal armor was larger and more elaborate than usual—fully equipped from neck to toe. Cygnus had his sword sheathed at his side, while Izar’s twin axes were strapped to his back. When I say fully armored, I mean completely encased in metal. They looked so cool—like fantasy knights ready to sweep me off my feet. “You guys look amazing. Is this your formal armor?” I asked, and they both nodded.

A weapon of choice “Well hello Princess!” One of the rogues steps forward taking his position in the middle of the three of them. The trio of rogues had long unkept hair, week’s worth of stubble, jeans with holes in the knees and trainers that had seen better days. Who on earth was leading them? They clearly weren’t being looked after and it wasn’t unusual for wolf rogues to be manipulated by withholding food, perhaps this was happening to the lycan rebels too.

Clayton heard a howl in the air and knew that it was from rogues, alerting them of a casualty on their side. “F8ck!” He muttered as he transformed again into Kragen, heading towards the sound of the howl’s direction. He zigzagged through the fracas as wolf against wolf battle for victory. He saw a pack of rogues teaming up to take down one of his seasoned warriors mercilessly. “Scoundrels!” Kragen launched towards them, taking them by surprised as he grabbed one on the neck while he thrown off one several feet away. The warrior that was attacked immediately assisted him, lunging at another rogue that jumped on Kragen’s back. There was a ferocious exchange of attacks from each other.

Sunlight streaming through the barred window. I scrambled out of bed, still wearing the clothes I'd put on last night. The door opened. A rogue stood there. Not the young one from yesterday. This one was older, bigger and scarred across his jaw. "Move," he growled. I followed him out of the room. Down the corridor. Down a set of stone stairs. Through another hallway. We ended up in what looked like a dining hall. Long tables. Benches. At least fifty rogues eating breakfast. All of them stopped and stared when I walked in.

I caught it by the throat, flipped it, and tore into it before it could blink. Blood sprayed across the dirt. And the battle began. We fought hard—every warrior, every guard, every wolf willing to stand between the palace and death. They kept coming. Rogues were never organized. They never fought with strategy. But these… these were different. They were wild, yes—but united. Driven. Almost frantic. And that made them easier to kill—but more dangerous too. I ripped another rogue off one of my younger warriors, snapping its spine with a quick twist. The warrior yelped a weak “Thank you,” through the link before turning to help someone else.

The rogues filled the air with their decaying scent, as they growled and snarled at soldiers, who were clad in their protective gears as they fought in their wolf forms. I joined Connor, Xander and Luke at the front line, who were all still in their human forms as they tore through the Rogues. "What's the status?" I asked, slicing through a rogue who tried to attack from behind. Connor cleared his throat. "We are winning. The rogues are easy to kill." My sword sliced through two at a time, and alarm bells rang in my head. "This is a distraction." A scream tore through one of the soldiers behind me, and the sight sent a shiver through me.

Fen surged beneath his skin, dark claws emerging as he threw the attacker aside. But the rogue didn’t stay down. It rose immediately, shaking off blows that should have shattered ribs. Pain meant nothing to it. Mira felt that unnatural endurance echo in her own marrow, and deep within the bond, Sera whimpered in shared distress. Darius froze for a heartbeat, staring at the creature. The crescent scar on the rogue’s shoulder pulsed with a faint, sickly light beneath the rain. This was no ordinary fighter. It was a vessel emptied of will, animated only by whatever dark ritual had carved that mark into its flesh.

As the final one was about to hit Olivia, a hand reached at from the barrier before it diminishes. Revealing himself to be a humanoid made with turquoise skin, fins for ears and large yellow eyes. The young folklore was a green cadet uniform, similar to Scott’s only with a white streak in the middle and a red Scarf around his neck. On the left side of his chest laid a red “L” shaped badge. “Roge Nest,” Scott smirked. “It’s been a while.” “Missed you too, Nollax,” Roge said as the spear shattered in his hand.

“And of course, you don’t want to mark me because you don’t want to take your throne back.” “I don’t know what I want to do yet. I have no support. No army. It’s not that easy.” “What about these rogues Monty spoke about? What is a rogue anyway?” “A rogue is a packless wolf. It’s not that easy. Rogues aren’t warriors. By the time I have them trained and ready for a war, Caspian would know and we’d all be dead. Well, not you and me…we’d only wish we were dead.”