Chapter 1405: Fangs and Feathers
The werewolves were beginning to gather around Ylva. One by one, they knelt or stood still as she extended her sharpened fingernails, stabbing each of them without hesitation. But this wasn’t violence, not the kind that spilled blood. There was no pain in their eyes. Instead, their bodies began to shift.
Their muscles tensed. Their forms expanded. They became faster, wilder, and stronger.
A twisted smile curled on Ylva’s face as she watched the newly empowered werewolves charge into the fray. Their eyes glowed with a frenzied hunger for battle.
What she had just done wasn’t ordinary, it was a trait of her subclass. Ylva wasn’t just any werewolf. She was a rare hybrid, a genetic outlier. According to the Book Keeper, there had been werewolves like her in the past, but they weren’t always understood. The ancient records had once separated them by type rather than by “class”, a term adapted and applied later by the system itself.
Over time, as werewolves grew in strength and gained deeper control of their powers, they began to evolve toward specific types. These types would often grant them unique abilities tied to their bloodline. The packs had learned how to train werewolves to increase the chances of manifesting certain types, though the results were never guaranteed.
In Ylva’s case, she had inherited powers from two distinct lines.
If categorized by the system, she would be classified as having a main class and a subclass. Her subclass was what gave her the power to inject strength into others, the Protector class, tied directly to the formidable Titan Vanguard. With this, she could boost her allies’ physical power and push them into a frenzied overdrive.
But unlike a full Titan Vanguard, she didn’t possess the massive body structure or sheer brute durability. That was because her main class was a Hunter. Her lithe limbs, heightened senses, and refined movement were all trademarks of the Hunter type. When she had transformed into her Luna form alongside Lupus, it had mirrored this class, a predatory, elegant, and deadly force.
In this moment, when she had no reason to waste her own energy, her subclass power was the perfect tool.
He’s going to be difficult to take down, Ylva thought as she watched Crawley from afar. But I need to save my strength, for Gary Dem.
Something inside her warned that Gary wouldn’t be easy prey. Either he was more powerful than anticipated, or he’d have some of the strongest Altered guarding him. What puzzled her was that no one had reported finding him yet.
That silence was unsettling.
Back on the battlefield, Crawley’s feathers scattered through the air like black ash.
The supercharged werewolves came at him in a blur. Two of them leapt at once, claws outstretched. Crawley raised his makeshift, feather-wrapped arms to deflect, but this time, the impact forced his arms downward.
They’ve matched my strength? Crawley realized in disbelief.
A third werewolf charged in. With a burst of energy, Crawley pushed his arms outward, breaking the deadlock, and then spun his body, launching himself high into the sky and leaving a spiral trail of feathers in his wake.
From above, he aimed both arms downward. His wings spread wide, summoning blades of dark energy that rained down like a storm of daggers. The projectiles slashed through the air, grazing some werewolves and leaving shallow cuts, but the majority of them barely slowed.
They kept pushing forward.
A group of them dove through the shattered windows of the coffee shop and began to tear through everything inside.
“Their power… it’s changed,” Crawley muttered, eyes scanning the chaos below. “These aren’t the same ones we were dealing with before. Were they holding back? Waiting to see how we’d fight before unleashing their reinforcements?”
He shifted position in midair. Fighting on the ground had been effective when they were evenly matched. But now? It was time to switch tactics. Crawley soared above, deciding to play a more supportive role, unleashing ranged attacks from above, watching, calculating, and preparing for opportunities.
The only problem was the coffee shop.
Its tight structure made it difficult to target enemies without risking friendly fire. From the air, he began circling the area, trying to spot openings, trying to find a way to help.
But there were too many.
The werewolves had flooded the place, and Crawley couldn’t strike without potentially harming his own people.
An Altered, pinned to the ground. A werewolf towered over him, claw raised high. In one brutal motion, it slashed downward.
The Altered’s eyes went lifeless.
“Damn it!” Crawley dove without hesitation.
He burst through the air and into the shop, wings outstretched. Spinning mid-flight, he swept both arms forward, summoning a storm of feathers from his hands and wings. They pushed out like a shockwave, slamming into the werewolves and sending several crashing backward.
“Everyone, fall back!” Crawley shouted, his voice ringing through the air. “Retreat to the next meeting point! Move while attacking! I’ll provide cover from above!”
This was part of their contingency plan.
Every Howler group was supposed to fall back to the meeting point, where Gary would be. It was a defensive stronghold and, more importantly, where the enemy was expected to appear at sunrise.
If they were overwhelmed, they were to regroup there.
Crawley hadn’t expected to make that call so soon.
We lasted an hour… he thought bitterly. I was hoping for at least three before having to move.
And even if we make it to Gary, will those by his side be strong enough to help us? Will they have fared any better than we did?
There was no time for answers. Only action.
From a distant rooftop, Ylva watched the chaos unfold with growing amusement.
The smile on her face stretched wider.
Just as I thought, she mused. I didn’t have to lift a finger. Everything’s going according to plan.
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