Anyways, the werewolf continued. "I came tracking this human. I found you with him." He looked at Stan directly, and the small, careful attention in his expression sharpened. "This human wields either a spatial technique or a set of artifacts that produce no detectable Qi or spatial fluctuation when used. Neither my pack nor I have encountered anything like it before. My proposal is this - if he possesses such capabilities, perhaps he can be used to force open a portal back to our realm through some method."
"Use?" Camilla pointed out in a cold voice upon hearing that word from the Werewolf...
The single word landed in the polar air with the weight of a scalpel.
The werewolf shrank back visibly. His diplomatic composure cracked. His eyes flickered with the sudden, unmistakable fear of a subordinate who had just realized he had used the wrong word in front of a superior who was not in the mood.
"I meant only - " He recovered fast. "I meant only to inquire whether he has something of use. He is a very strange being, this human. His techniques are unlike anything we have observed. His tools are unfamiliar. His capabilities exceed the parameters we would expect from a New Age human. I only wanted to know whether he could be - engaged with - in some way. Toward our shared goal of returning home."
Stan watched the exchange with the small, distant amusement of a man who was quickly realizing that the terrifying pack leader who had beaten him within an inch of his life was, in the presence of Camilla, a very different creature.
His mind, meanwhile, was working.
The Void Sovereign’s inheritance included control of the formation. From his inheritance chamber - the tea room where he had signed the pact with the Void Sovereign’s split soul - he could, if he wished, personally access New Terra. He could take the werewolf back there any time he chose. He could take Camilla back there any time he chose.
He did not, however, need to tell them that.
What he did need, in the moment, was payback.
He smiled slightly and looked at Camilla.
"I know this is out of place. But - what if I gave you a hundred times the volume of that Spirit Pool you have, if you could just beat this guy to near death for me? Until he can’t do a thing."
Camilla’s red eyes lit up instantly.
The werewolf’s expression changed.
He had been watching Camilla, tracking her body language, gauging her mood. He saw the moment her interest sharpened. He saw the small, delighted smile begin to curve her mouth. He read, correctly and instantly, exactly what was about to happen.
He transformed.
The transformation was faster than anything Stan had ever seen. In a single blink, the werewolf’s entire body erupted into fur, muscle, and lupine architecture - his mass expanding, his frame reshaping, his hands becoming claws, his face lengthening into the great gray-and-black jaw of his beast form. The transformation completed in a fraction of a second. It was the fastest full transformation Stan had ever witnessed.
The werewolf ran.
He blurred sideways at a speed Stan’s eyes could not track. His body vanished into the polar landscape in a streak of dark fur.
He crashed into something invisible.
The sound was terrible. A wet, cracking, distinctly comical whumph - the specific sound of a dog hitting an invisible wall at full sprint. The werewolf’s body compressed briefly against the barrier, his snout squashed against nothing, his front paws splayed outward, and he crumpled backward onto the ice with a startled yelp.
Stan blinked. ’What.’
The werewolf staggered to his feet. He looked around wildly. Then he ran again - in a different direction. He hit the same invisible wall.
The werewolf hit the invisible barrier and immediately understood. His ears flattened.
Slowly, he turned back toward Camilla.
"Royal Blood," he said carefully, "perhaps we can discuss this."
But Camilla wasn’t listening, he was sent flying that instant...
Seeing that it’s useless talking with her, he gritted his teeth and tried a third direction but he got blocked once again...
He was, evidently, contained inside an invisible box that Camilla had erected around him without Stan being able to detect its formation.
The werewolf pressed his paws against the invisible barrier and let out a low, uncertain growl. His eyes darted from Camilla to Stan and back again.
Camilla, still standing exactly where she had been the entire time, smiled slowly.
"There is no use running, dog."
She raised one delicate hand.
She waved it.
An invisible current of Qi - that Stan could now, thanks to his upgraded Comprehension of Space, actually see faintly as it moved - flew across the polar air and slapped the werewolf across his transformed snout.
SMACK!
The impact was not loud. It was, however, precise. The werewolf’s head jerked violently sideways from the strike. He tumbled onto the ice with a stunned whimper.
Camilla waved her hand again.
Another invisible smack landed. This one on his other cheek.
The werewolf staggered.
She waved a third time. This one caught him in the ribs. There was a soft cracking sound - the specific sound of a rib breaking under precisely calibrated force. The werewolf let out a wounded howl and collapsed sideways.
Camilla was, Stan realized, playing.
She was not, in any hurry, actually attacking. Her Qi could have flattened the werewolf in a single strike. She was, deliberately, drawing out the beating in a series of small, controlled, escalating impacts so that Stan could actually see what she was doing to him - and so that Stan could enjoy each moment individually.
Stan appreciated the gesture.
He crossed his arms and watched.
Camilla, having decided she was going to make an entertainment of this, got creative.
She snapped her fingers. A localized gravitational field - Stan could sense the Qi manipulation now - inverted around the werewolf. The transformed beast was yanked upward as though the sky had suddenly acquired the pull of the ground. He hit the top of his invisible cage with another loud, comical thump.
She released the inversion.
He fell back down to the ice with another satisfying, undignified thud.
She did it again.
Up. Thud. Down. Thud. Up. Thud. Down. Thud.
By the third repetition, the werewolf had begun to whimper - the distinctly canine, distinctly pathetic whimper of a very large dog that had realized it had made a very serious tactical error and was being punished for it. His transformed form, which had been terrifying on Stan several hours ago, now looked almost silly. His paws splayed helplessly. His ears flattened against his skull. His tongue lolled out one side of his mouth as he was thrown around inside his invisible cage.
Camilla laughed.
It was a small, genuinely delighted laugh - the specific laugh of a woman who was enjoying herself.
"I’ve missed this," she said aloud. "I’ve forgotten how exciting it is to toy with annoying weaklings like you...."