As the darkness closed in, he thought not of victory, but of the gates of Velrith… and whether they would stand without him.
The werewolf rose from the corpse, black blood still dripping from its hip, and threw back its head in a triumphant howl that rolled over the battlefield.
The commander of the guards had fallen.
For a moment, the guards froze. Their commander's body hit the ground, limp and lifeless.
"Commander…" a voice cracked in disbelief.
Fear swept through the ranks. Shields wavered, some stepped back, others stood stunned.
The werewolf's cold laugh cut through the silence, then turned its eyes on the remaining defenders.
Emboldened, the minotaurs charged with a fierce roar.
"Hold the line!" a veteran shouted, but the words lacked the commander's strength.
Slowly, the battle tipped. The guards were pushed back toward the village center, the werewolf's howl ringing out above the chaos—a grim reminder that the commander has fallen.
Ten minutes ago.
Bang! Two werewolves landed in the town square, one on each side, fangs bared and claws dripping with menace.
On the left, a lean gray werewolf, seven feet tall, swiped his claws and beheaded a husband and wife—dog-like demihumans—leaving their twelve-year-old child frozen in terror and screaming.
"Ahhhhh!" came a terrified shout from the right, where a towering, muscle-bound black werewolf, ten feet tall, hacked a deer demihuman clean in two.
The square plunged into chaos as screams tore through the air and villagers scattered in panic. Ten remaining guards rushed in to confront the werewolves, but the lean one moved like a shadow, weaving between them and reaping lives with ruthless efficiency.
Two guards approached the massive werewolf, swords drawn. The beast reacted instantly—snatching the guard on the right and squeezing until the man's skull burst like an overripe fruit. The other guard slashed at its flank, but his blade glanced harmlessly off the beast's hide. With a roar, the werewolf swung the mangled corpse like a club, smashing it into the second guard and spraying blood and viscera across the cobblestones.
A platoon of fifty guards—led by Jack, the vice commander—stormed into the square. They had been held back as the final line of defense should the vanguard fall, but now their time had come. Jack, a twenty-five-year-old tigerkin and a beginner-level veteran whose skill had once marked him as a prodigy, wasted no time. He lunged straight for the gray werewolf.
Clank! Clank! Clank!
Steel rang against claw in a furious exchange. Jack swung with a powerful slash, forcing the werewolf to duck as the blade whooshed overhead. With a sharp twist and a grunt of effort, Jack reversed his momentum, bringing his sword down in a lightning-fast vertical strike before the beast could fully recover.
The attack halted—caught in mid-descent by the werewolf's crossed claws. Spittle flew from the beast's snarling mouth as it held him back, but the force of Jack's strike still made the monster stagger a step.
"You're good… but not good enough."
Jack knew the truth in those words. The peak-level fiend wasn't even fighting at full strength. He had merely been caught off guard.
Jack didn't flinch. His eyes, sharp and golden, tracked the beast's every twitch. The werewolf's grin widened, lips peeling back to reveal jagged fangs still slick with fresh blood.
Then it moved.
The claws swept down like twin guillotines. Jack pivoted sideways, feeling the rush of air as they carved through the space where his head had been. His sword lashed out in return, slicing across the werewolf's forearm. A faint line of red appeared—proof it could bleed—but the cut was shallow, hardly worth noticing.
The monster chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate in Jack's chest. "A scratch? That's all?"
It lunged forward, faster than its size should allow. Jack barely managed to interpose his blade as the werewolf's weight slammed into him, the sheer force rattling his bones. His boots skidded back across the cobblestones, leaving deep grooves in the dust.
The werewolf pressed the attack without pause—slashes, swipes, and snapping jaws came at Jack in a relentless storm. He parried one strike, ducked another, and countered with a quick slash to its ribs. Again, the wound was shallow, but this time it earned him a low growl.
Jack saw his opening when the beast overextended on a claw swipe. He pivoted in close, sword arcing for the neck. The werewolf twisted at the last second, and the blade bit deep into its shoulder instead.
The monster's howl shook the air.
"You'll regret that, tiger…"
Its massive hand shot out, claws clamping around Jack's throat. The vice commander's boots scraped against the stones as he was hoisted into the air with terrifying ease. The grip tightened, cutting off his breath, the claws threatening to pierce skin.
But Jack's free hand still held his sword. And his eyes—sharp as a predator's—told the beast that he wasn't finished yet.
Jack's vision tunneled as the werewolf's claws squeezed tighter around his throat. His lungs burned, every second dragging him closer to the edge.
Then something inside him snapped.
A deep, guttural growl rumbled in his chest, low at first, then rising into a roar that shook the air. His pupils narrowed to slits, golden irises blazing. Stripes of black began crawling across his skin, fur sprouting along his arms and jaw. His muscles swelled, cords of power rippling under his shirt as his fangs lengthened and claws burst from his fingers.
The werewolf's grin faltered.
Jack's hand shot up, gripping the beast's wrist with a strength it hadn't expected. With a snarl, Jack wrenched himself free, landing hard on the cobblestones. Now fully transformed—a towering humanoid tiger, striped and bristling with raw power—he raised his sword, the steel gleaming in the firelight.
"You wanted a fight…" Jack's voice was deeper now, layered with an animalistic growl. "…now you've got one."
They clashed again.
This time, Jack met the werewolf blow for blow. Claws collided with blade in bursts of sparks, each strike sending shockwaves through the square. Jack ducked under a swiping claw and retaliated with a brutal slash across the werewolf's chest, leaving a deep, bleeding gash that forced the beast to stagger back.