[Elsewhere]
Gruger and the two agents at his side advanced toward a firelit patch the place where the unit had been ambushed.
From the shadows, a pack of corrupted wolves lunged.
Before they could close in, a massive hammer-drill smashed into them, shattering bone and flesh. More wolves leapt from hiding, but the old man unsheathed his broad sword. With a single sweeping arc, he split them clean in half.
"Whoa… they all died just like that," Miss Kenny muttered, wide-eyed. She recalled how, not long after Coroules' scavengers had left the settlement, the five of them were assigned to assist Lord Gruger. And she'd heard rumors of the infamous Roar duo Scalar and Margie. They once served under the former vice head, which explained why Margie, the old swordsman, despised Gruger so deeply.
Gruger paid no mind to their amazement. He kept walking, toward the blazing wreckage. Shattered Metabuses lay strewn about, bodies crushed and bloodied.
Then he heard it a muffled cry.
"Flien… no, Flien! Please, hang on!"
But the boy was already dead, drained of blood in his father's arms. The man knew it, but clung to denial, rocking the lifeless body as if willing it back.
Gruger sneered. "Will you stand up?"
His voice cut through the grief like a blade. The man lifted his head, meeting Gruger's disgusted glare. Recognition spread across his face, followed quickly by desperation. He crawled forward, collapsing at Gruger's feet.
"Please, my lord… help my son! He's just a boy the wolves, they please save him!"
Gruger bent, seized the man by the arm, and hoisted him into the air with one hand. His voice was flat.
"Where is it?"
The man froze. He knew exactly what Gruger wanted. But tears spilled down his face as he shook his head.
"No… I'll tell you where your weapon is if you save my son!"
Miss Kenny stiffened. She knew Gruger's temper; one wrong word could end this man instantly. She stepped forward quickly, trying to diffuse it.
"Your son is gone. But if you tell us where the item is, we'll help you we can treat your wounds, maybe even promote"
"No!" the man screamed, his grief snapping into rage. "Help Flien, or you'll never see it!"
Gruger's silence was more chilling than his voice. Slowly, he ripped the man's bleeding arm from its socket.
The man's scream echoed into the night. Gruger tossed him aside like a rag doll, then stepped on Flien's corpse, crushing it underfoot.
"Vermin. You thought you had the right to bargain with me? Your pathetic brain lied to you. Lied when it told you that you could talk back."
He kicked the boy's body toward the broken man.
"No! Flien! Why?!"
Blood splattered as Gruger crushed the man's leg with a single stomp. Miss Kenny blinked she hadn't even seen him move.
The man screamed again.
Gruger seized him by the head this time, lifting him like nothing. His voice was low.
"I'll ask this only once more."
Miss Kenny tried to protest. "Sir, please "
But Gruger's gaze burned into her, a silent warning. Her words died in her throat.
The man's will broke. "It's… it's there… over there!" he gasped, eyes darting to a point beyond the wreckage.
Gruger dropped him like trash.
"Kenny."
"Yes, sir."
"What about Scalar and Margie?"
"I don't care," Gruger said. His words cut like steel.
"…Understood, sir."
Together, they walked in the direction the dying man had indicated, leaving him bleeding in the dirt.
But fate had not abandoned him fully. A figure shimmered into view, as if he had been there all along the assassin, John Beecroft. He lifted the broken man into his arms, meeting his desperate eyes.
"If you want to live… tell me what they're after."
---
Not far away, Scalar's voice dripped with contempt.
"Where were you?"
Gruger turned, his expression unreadable. Scalar and Margie were soaked in wolf's blood, their weapons slick.
"We know where the variants are," Gruger said flatly. "If you want them, follow. Or stay here and rot."
Without another glance, he continued walking.
"Fuck!"
A grunt tore from Toga's throat, her body battered and bruised.
"What how? It's too strong even in this state!" she gasped, her fists slick with blood.
She and Ronal had tried to hold their ground, but the bleeding Variant was relentless. Worse still, the swarm of corrupted wolves never stopped circling, snapping, and lunging at them, forcing them to split their focus.
It's not like the others I've faced… Ronal thought, gritting his teeth.
He was Roar's elite, forged in battle and tempered by blood. He had slain Variants before, torn through Stage 2 beasts without breaking stride but this one was different. It wasn't just a Variant. It was corrupted. And unlike the others, it carried a weight, a presence, that pressed on his chest like a mountain.
The truth was simple though Ronal didn't yet realize it.
This Lycan Variant wasn't at Stage 2. It had already reached Stage 3, and was clawing its way toward Stage 4. Three essence cores churned inside its body, and a fourth was forming. That alone put it beyond anything he had faced before.
"Shit…" Ronal's eyes narrowed, flicking toward the pack. We need to clear out these little fucks first. Then, both of us hit the big one together.
But the wolves never gave him the time. One lunged, fangs snapping. Ronal raised his spear, the steel ringing as teeth scraped against it. With a twist, he hurled the beast to the dirt only for another to leap. His spear flashed, piercing its throat. Blood sprayed as it collapsed lifeless at his feet.
"Toga!"
"What?! Can't you see I'm busy?!" she snarled, prying open a wolf's jaws with her bare hands until its bones cracked under her fingers.
"Hold them off! I'll try to take out the Variant."
Her head snapped toward him. "Wait what the fuck do you mean by that?!"
"I mean handle the pack. I'll deal with the beast."
"You selfish bastard…" she growled, crushing the wolf's skull between her palms. "You just want the essence cores for yourself. I refuse."
Ronal didn't even flinch. She wasn't wrong. Among Roar's elites, selfishness was second nature. She assumed he'd betray her the moment the beast fell and she was right. That was exactly what he'd planned.
But there was no time for truth.
"Shut the fuck up and do what I say, or we both die here!" Ronal barked, his voice sharp as his spear. "You think you can kill that thing on your own? I can't even do it alone!"
"Then why the hell are you saying you can?!" she spat, snapping a wolf's neck like a twig and hurling its limp body aside.
Ronal's retort was cut short as two more wolves lunged. He spun, impaling both mid-air in one brutal thrust. Blood rained down, but still they kept coming.
He exhaled hard. "Listen. Here's the plan. You hold them back. I'll pin the Variant. When I signal, we strike together. That's the only way we kill it."
Toga hesitated, mistrust boiling in her eyes. But the pack pressed her too hard for argument. With a reluctant nod, she agreed.
"Good."
Mana surged as Ronal slashed a path through the pack, his spear glowing with raw power. With a roar, he hurled it forward. The weapon ripped through wolves in a crimson arc, leaving mangled corpses in its wake before embedding deep in the dirt near the Variant.
The Lycan's head snapped up.
Ronal lunged, tearing his spear free as he vaulted high into the blood-red sky. He brought it down in a two-handed thrust
but the lycan caught the weapon in its massive jaws, its teeth grinding against the steel.
"Fuck!"
With a violent twist, the beast swung Ronal like a ragdoll, slamming him into the ground. The impact rattled his bones, and blood sprayed from his mouth as he skidded across the sand.
Before he could breathe, the Lycan pounced, its full weight crushing him.
"HHHGGGGHHH!" Ronal roared in agony, ribs snapping under the pressure. The beast lowered its jaws, ready to rip his head from his shoulders
But Ronal's hand shot to his spear. With one desperate motion, he rammed it upward, piercing through the Lycan's neck. Black blood poured as the beast recoiled, giving him just enough space to shove it off and stagger to his feet.
He raised his spear again, mana flooding through it, ready to drive it into the Variant's throat
The Lycan roared, its paw flashing up, intercepting the strike.