---
Chapter 24
"PAPA!!!"
The anguished cries of the Volkov brothers echoed across the blood-slick clearing as they rushed to their father's side. Nikolai lay slumped against the cold earth, his breath shallow and wheezing, a stream of dark blood bubbling from his lips. His face was battered—one eye swollen shut, his split lips leaking crimson.
"Papa! Papa!" they cried in unison, shaking his shoulders, gripping at his arms, desperately trying to stir him awake. Their fingers smeared his blood across his clothes as they clung to him, their sobs slicing through the air like knives. But Nikolai remained unresponsive, his body limp, his life teetering on the edge.
"Nikolai!" Rosseweisse stumbled forward, her face as pale as the snow. Her hands trembled as she knelt beside him,"Can you hear me? Gods… I'm sorry! I didn't mean for this to happen! It—it all happened so fast!"
From the moment when Sigrun arrived to reaching this moment it took only twenty seconds, just twenty for things to go south.
Sigrun approached cautiously, her expression grim. "Rosseweisse, what is going on here?" The Valkyrie now looked shaken as she took in the scene—the two children, crying so hard their voices cracked, their bloodied father clinging to life.
Sigrun's face paled as the weight of her mistake settled in. She tried to approach the children, hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. "I… I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was a misunderstanding. Lady Eir can heal him, if you'll just—"
"DERZHIS' PODAL'SHE!! (STAY AWAY!)"
The words were spat with such venom that Sigrun instinctively took a step back. Though she didn't understand Russian, the fury in their voices transcended the language gap. The rage in their eyes, those blue eyes shifted to obsidian black glinting with grief and hatred, said more than words ever could.
She quickly cast translation magic, her voice softening. "Please… I mean no harm. I just want to help."
Her attempt at diplomacy failed spectacularly.
"Help?" Artom snarled, "After what you did to Papa, you dare come near him?!"
"Listen, I understand you're angry. This is all just—"
"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" they screamed in unison, their voices twisting with hatred and pain.
The air around them crackled as they transformed—black feathers erupted from their bodies, their hands turned into clawed talons gripping large sledgehammers they had just summoned, and their limbs elongated into a grotesque hybrid of man and crow. Though their size was not that big, but their appearance was disturbing and monstrous, identical in fury and form.
"You tried to kill Papa! We'll smash your skull and tear you apart!"
Even for a Valkyrie like Sigrun, the sight was chilling. The synchronized speech, the unnatural transformation, the intent in their words—it was unnerving. Even the other Valkyries who had only recently been freed from Nikolai's cursed chains couldn't help but shudder.
Rosseweisse rushed forward. "Artom! Igor! Please stop! They're not trying to hurt him anymore! Lady Eir can heal him—she's the best healer among us. Please, just… calm down."
The monstrous brothers hesitated. Their obsidian eyes flicked from Rosseweisse to their barely-breathing father. A pool of blood had begun to soak the ground beneath him, and his skin was growing deathly pale.
Artom clenched his beak-like teeth. Igor's grip on his weapon loosened.
"…Okay," they said, voices low and tense.
They lowered their weapons, but their posture remained defensive. Trust was not given—it was loaned under protest.
A gentle wind signaled the arrival of Eir, who descended from the sky like a falling star. Her violet eyes scanned the scene, focusing first on the bloodied man on the ground. Then her gaze hardened as she turned toward Rosseweisse.
"We will talk later," she said curtly, her voice calm but firm. "First, this man needs immediate care. Prepare a transport. We're taking him to the village."
She turned to the Valkyries behind her. "Carry him."
But the moment two Valkyries moved toward Nikolai, Artom and Igor growled.
"DON'T TOUCH PAPA!"
Rosseweisse stepped between them again. "They're just going to take him to the village so he can be healed. Please… let them help."
After another tense moment, the brothers gave a silent nod. Then, without a word, they hoisted their father themselves, cradling him with surprising gentleness despite their monstrous forms.
The group used flight magic, and leaped into the air and flew away from the horizon. The setting sun bathed the sky in hues of crimson and gold, as if the world itself mourned the violence that had taken place.
---
The group touched down in the centre of the village as the last light of day faded behind the dense forest. The first to greet them was the stalwart Einherjar, Erik the Ironhide.
"Welcome back!" he called out with a broad grin—until his eyes fell upon the grotesque crow-children carrying a broken and blodied man between them. His smile faltered. "And… who are these? Did the undead do that to him?" he asked Eir.
Eir immediately replied. "This man is the one who rescued miss Rossweisse. And these two are his sons."
Erik's brows furrowed. "I need a little information than that."
"There were some misunderstanding," Sigrun added, stepping forward. "We mistook him for an undead because of the armor he wore. He was injured because of me."
"Gods," Erik muttered. "Then let's not waste time." He motioned toward the healer's hut. "Eir, you know what to do."
Eir gave a brief nod and motioned for the brothers to follow. They carried their father into a modest wooden house at the village's center. Inside, they laid him on a simple.
"Leave me," Eir said calmly. "Let me focus."
Rosseweisse gently led the children out, though they fought her every step of the way.
"Papa?" Artom whimpered, one clawed hand reaching back as the door shut.
"Don't worry," Rosseweisse whispered. "Lady Eir is a gifted healer. One of the few personally trained by Lady Freya herself in the art of Senjutsu. Your Papa will be back on his feet, cooking Borscht for you two by morning."
"Really?" both asked, hopeful eyes locked on her.
"Yes," she smiled. "But for now… how about we get some food? You two haven't eaten all day."
---
Inside the healer's hut, a soft green glow pulsed beneath Eir's palms. She focused on Nikolai's shattered mouth first, mending the torn flesh with quiet precision.
His wounds were severe—split lips, broken ribs, internal bleeding—but what shocked her most was how quickly the injuries were being healed.
"...That's odd," she whispered, drawing her hand away. The wound had not only closed but had already scarred over.
She checked the time. "Twenty minutes…"
That was all it took to heal an injury that would've required hours with senjutsu. She blinked, stunned.
"Just what are you?" she murmured, studying the unconscious man. His body was still battered, but healing at a rate that made no sense especially for a human. Even the fractures left by Sigrun's mighty blow had mostly fused.
And then there were the auras inside of him, that she had sensed.
Two of them.
One was calm, grounded, almost paternal. The other… was wild. Violent. Like a storm chained in flesh.
"What… are you hiding?" Eir whispered, brows furrowed. She placed a hand over his chest again, but the questions only deepened.
---
Author's Notes
Thank you all so much for sticking with me and my story, Rise of the Baba Yaga. I know I haven't been posting as frequently, but your support means the world to me. Every power stone, comment, and review helps this story grow and reach more readers.
Please continue sending those stones, sharing your thoughts, and above all—leave reviews! They're the lifeblood of this series.
Until next time, stay safe, and keep reading!
— Your Author