The tarp was ripped away, and moonlight flooded in, illuminating Len's pale face. Three young Wolf Clan members stood at the entrance, their faces alight with the excitement of the hunt.
"Look who it is! Our little half-breed certainly made a scene at the altar today." The speaker was Gray, one of Ron's most loyal followers.
Len didn't respond. He simply rose slowly. The low ceiling of the dugout forced him to hunch slightly, a posture that should have seemed submissive, but the cold light flashing in his eyes made Gray unconsciously take half a step back.
"What? You got a problem with that?" Gray, quickly angered by his own moment of hesitation, stepped forward and reached for Len's collar.
Just as Gray's hand was about to touch him, Len moved.
It wasn't the Wolf Clan's swift pounce, nor the Vampire's elegant evasion. It was a more bizarre, almost fluid motion. His figure seemed to blur for an instant in the moonlight, easily avoiding Gray's grasp, while the bone knife in his hand shot out like a venomous snake, slicing a bloody line across Gray's arm.
"You dare—!" Gray roared in shock and anger. The other two wolves immediately shifted into half-wolf form, growling low as they closed in.
Len felt the blood within him boiling. The Wolf part of him yearned to bite and howl, while the Vampire part called for calm and precision. Two completely different instincts intertwined, which should have led to chaos and pain. But now, driven by extreme rage and the will to survive, they reached a strange, precarious balance.
His senses became unnaturally sharp. He could clearly hear the heartbeats of his three opponents, the sound of blood flowing in their veins, even predict the subtle tensing of their muscles before they moved.
When the second wolf lunged, Len sidestepped the claws, his bone knife precisely aiming for the vulnerable spot under the arm. When the third wolf attacked from behind, he didn't even turn, simply dropped and spun, the blade cutting across the back of the attacker's calf.
It all happened in the blink of an eye. Three young wolves, each capable of easily overpowering the usual Len, were now all wounded by his bizarre speed and precise strikes.
"Impossible!" Gray clutched his bleeding arm, his eyes filled with disbelief. "What did you do?"
Len himself was surprised. This wasn't a power he was familiar with. It was a new instinct, born from some unknown source deep within his bloodline. At the brink of life and death, a long-suppressed potential had finally begun to awaken.
He didn't answer, just gripped the bone knife tighter, his cold gaze fixed on the three.
Gray let out an enraged roar, fully transforming into a nearly two-meter-tall gray wolf as he charged. The other two followed close behind, three wolves surrounding him.
Len took a deep breath, focusing all his attention on maintaining that strange internal balance. He no longer resisted either bloodline, but instead tried to guide them, letting the Wolf's strength flow through his muscles, while the Vampire's precision controlled his every movement.
As Gray pounced, Len didn't retreat. He met the charge head-on. At the moment of impact, his body twisted at an impossible angle, avoiding the deadly claws and fangs, while his bone knife sank deep into Gray's shoulder blade.
The gray wolf let out a pained howl. The attacks from the other two wolves arrived. Len, unable to pull his knife free in time, blocked with his bare hands. The Wolf's strength sent a numbing shock through his arms, but he didn't falter. Instead, he used the impact to drift backward, putting distance between himself and the three wolves.
In the clearing before the dugout, four figures stood facing each other under the moonlight. Three wolves snarled, baring their fangs, low growls rumbling in their throats. Len stood opposite them, weaponless now, his breathing slightly ragged, but his eyes growing colder and sharper.
"Kill him!" Gray snarled. The three wolves charged again.
This time, Len didn't meet them head-on. He turned and sprinted towards the Darkwood, his speed far exceeding the wolves' expectations.
"After him! Don't let him escape!"
The three wolves gave chase, quickly disappearing into the shadows of the dense forest.
Len weaved through the twisted trees, the dead leaves and branches underfoot making almost no sound. He felt the power surging within him as he ran, each breath seeming to draw in some energy from the surrounding shadows.
Was this what Mother meant by a 'unique gift'?
He wasn't sure, but a feeling he'd never experienced before filled his entire being—it wasn't purely Wolf strength or Vampire ability, but something older, more fundamental, awakening from the depths of his soul.
The wolf howls behind him grew closer. Len knew he had to lose his pursuers quickly. He spotted a particularly dense area of shadow up ahead, where large patches of faintly glowing mushrooms grew, forming a natural maze.
Without hesitation, he dashed into it.
When the three wolves reached the edge of the mushroom circle, Len's figure had already vanished within the distorted play of light and shadow. They paced anxiously at the periphery, not daring to venture in—the Darkwood of the Eternal Dusk was full of unknown dangers, and even wolves hesitated to enter certain areas recklessly.
"Damn it!" Gray shifted back to human form, his shoulder still bleeding. "That half-breed... he's different."
Hidden deep within the mushroom circle, Len watched through the layered caps of the fungi. Confirming the wolves wouldn't follow for now, he relaxed, leaning against a dead tree.
The power within him still surged, but it was no longer as uncontrollable as before. He looked down at his hands. In the darkness, his fingertips seemed wreathed in a faint, almost invisible black mist.
This was his secret, the thing beneath the hard shell he'd always felt deep in his soul. Today, stimulated by ultimate humiliation and a life-or-death crisis, it had finally cracked open.
In the distance, the wolves' frustrated howls gradually faded. Moonlight filtered through the forest canopy, casting eerie patterns on the ground covered in fluorescent mushrooms.
Len stood at the border between light and shadow, one side of his face illuminated by the moon, the other hidden in darkness.
He was no longer the "half-breed" who could only passively endure.
Something had awakened, and the eternal night of the Dusk would be the starting point of his new journey.