The second I stepped out into the streets of the new empire, the building straight across from me erupted into nothing but debris. More and more followed, as hell rained from above, tossing people, and most importantly, me, across the streets with ease.
My god?! What is happening?!
Another volley from above rained down the next payload of a fireblast, falling squarely in my direction. Others were near me on both my sides, impeding my movement so I couldn't dodge it easily.
They were all petrified like stone. I had never seen wolves so still in my life. But me, I wasn't going out that easily, not after just coming back from the dead.
On instinct, my strength rose drastically, my fangs and eyes narrowing their focus so that everything seemed to slow down around me. I dropped to all fours, lunging to the side with a flip to evade the falling meteor of destruction.
All others, however, weren't half as perceptive or quick. They were struck head-on, evaporated into nothing but fire and ashes.
It pained me to watch it. I didn't even try to save anyone…not even a single one. Their bodies slowly melted in front of me, just like how I imagined my own cremation in my past life must have looked, and worse, felt like.
Who, who is doing this?! I snarled, a hard, boisterous growl leaving my throat.
Even if these weren't my people, they were still werewolves like me, possibly from another kingdom in Bloodhaven. And if this place was falling now, then that could very much mean my own kingdom was going through the same, not like I much cared if my family and father were to perish because of it.
Hearing another attack being readied, I looked up to the sky above. It was hard to make out the next attack, but upon seeing what was causing these assaults, an idea of who was causing the devastation jumped into my head.
Hell-red runic sigils floated in the sky above the empire, and what was unique about them was how they looked after being created. Each race of these lands had its own way of casting spells, and I studied up on them under my mother when I was younger. She always told me to beware those who cast sigils with specific incantations inscribed upon them.
And these runic symbols carried those markings. Only one race I knew could use them.
Humans…are we being attacked by humanity? And we can't beat them easily?
As if to confirm my suspicion almost instantly, further down the street, my eyes caught sight of some other wolves mounting their own resistance against an unseen enemy. They were cut down in droves, their blood and skin covering the streets in wicked, crimson red.
I hadn't seen wolves so strong and bulky in build fall like trees blown over in a hurricane till today.
In front of them stood their slayers, an army of humans armored to the teeth in pure silver, leather, and lightweight armor. In one hand were cutlasses abnormally larger than normal to the point I was shocked they could even hold them up, and in the other, they held instruments that appeared to be smoking from some sort of miniature barrel.
I…I can't believe it. Humans were always the weakest. How are they doing this?
"None is meant to survive!" One of their front-liners commanded, more than likely their commander, "All of these scum perish today. Focus on destroying them, we will collect their bodies after we are done!"
The army dispersed, marching down the streets with hundreds of humans to each row of houses throughout the massive empire. Many of my kind ran in fear, while their nobles and protectors came out in hordes to truly begin the warfare.
Getting to a safer vantage point from an alleyway to gauge the fighting armies, it seems my people had wised up to the taking out the warlock casting the destruction spells coming from above. But even then, that wouldn't be enough to destroy this version of humanity tearing down their doorstep.
The humans were faster, more agile, and even more resilient than the walking flesh bags they normally were meant to be. Even their armor, which I had many times cut through like butter with my own claws, seemed so much more resilient than all the other times we had fought them.
A few of my people were cut down, stoking the fires of revenge in my heart. Somehow, this kingdom's guard seemed so much weaker than those I had grown up with in my old life. Perhaps my home really was just that good at growing warrior talent, because for as much as these forces were formidable, they were more than sloppy in their movements.
I knew I could do better than them.
My chance would soon come to prove myself right.
*****
The battle lasted for a good while. The humans won out in terms of the casualties that were lost. They had suffered a great deal of losses in the fray however, forcing them to pull back while collecting up some of the bodies of the others they had slain.
A few humans remained, gloating about their victory over the embers of the destroyed kingdom. Those from the empire that had survived hid themselves as best they could in the debris from the aftermath, or took to the woodland surroundings to see if they could escape in their full wolf forms.
I had different plans.
"Look at these wretched creatures," one of the collectors said, sticking his gloved hand into the corpse of one wolf.
The others joined in on his laughter.
"They thought they could really stand up to us? Not a chance in hell, not after what lord Velfern has given…"
I disconnected his head from his body no second later or earlier with my elongated claws. Blood raced from the stump of his neck as all the others suddenly turned to him upon hearing the swing of my claws through the air.
In return for the petrification they had done to others like me, I returned the feeling to them in kind.
I was far from finished.
They believed these wretched wolves couldn't stand up to them…Omega or not, they hadn't seen what a real war-wolf looked like.
"I swear, your kind gets a true taste of power for once, and you think you're all unkillable," I growled, as the five other armored men stood ready to attack me.
My blue-steel irises reflected my ice-cold desire to bite all their heads clean off their bodies. They shrunk away from me in fear, their hands reaching for their holstered weapons slowly.
I wanted them to fight back. It would make it more satisfying when I tore them limb from limb.
My mind was made up. Before I would become a destroyer of those who wronged me, I would become an avenger for those who prayed for their want of vengeance to be fulfilled.
"Avenging people is not really what I wanted to do with my second life." I said, flashing the blood on my claws across the ground, "but I guess as a new beast, but the same animal I was before, I can make exceptions when it comes to your kind."