When Lupus flicked his nails, it wasn’t the lazy gesture of an ordinary werewolf. His sheer strength and the power behind his movements made it something else entirely.
Apollo’s Altered body, with its thick hide and natural defenses, should have been enough to shrug off such an attack. Normally, even another werewolf’s claws would have glanced off him. But these nails pierced deep into his flesh without resistance.
The moment they embedded into his leg, a chilling frost began to spread outward. Tiny webs of ice formed around each puncture wound, crawling over his skin. But that wasn’t the real danger.
The frost on the surface wasn’t much, just like Lupus, Apollo could have broken through it if that was all there was. No, the real threat was deeper. He could feel the ice spreading inside him. The claws hadn’t just pierced flesh, they were freezing the muscles from within. Numbness spread through his leg, his control slipping, every movement becoming slower and weaker.
“That’s interesting,” Lupus murmured with a cruel smile. “Now I wonder how this works with my other skills.”
His massive frame lunged forward in a blur, faster than it had any right to be, closing the distance in an instant.
Desperation boiled inside Apollo, rage fueling every thought. He couldn’t just lie down and die. Even if this was the end for him, he had to at least wound Lupus, slow him down, something, anything that might give the others a chance when they eventually faced him.
But there was a fear lurking at the back of his mind. A thought that clawed at him.
After consuming Ice, Lupus had inherited terrifying elemental powers. And Apollo... his own Altered form carried an affinity with ice as well.
If Lupus devoured him too, if his strength was added to what Lupus already possessed, would that monster grow even stronger? Would Apollo’s death only doom the others further?
With a roar, Apollo gathered everything he had left. His fist, charged with crackling lightning, shot forward, faster and harder than he had ever thrown before. Sparks tore through the air as it smashed into Lupus’s body,
Only for the body to crumble.
Instead of fading into mist like the phantom pounce trick Lupus had used earlier, this time the body shattered into jagged shards of ice. The explosion of frozen fragments blocked Apollo’s view, blinding him for a crucial instant.
His knuckles. His fist. The very hand that had struck the illusion, it was freezing over. Hardening into solid ice, spreading down his arm.
Before he could react, a heavy impact crashed into his stomach. Lupus’s kick.
Apollo’s body folded around the blow before it went flying, bouncing and rolling across the grass like a ragdoll. Blood spewed from his mouth, spraying dark against the green. The pain radiated through his entire body.
It wasn’t as devastating as the tethered strike Lupus had landed earlier, but it was still enough to leave Apollo broken, coughing, and reeling. The difference between their strength had never been clearer.
“These powers...” Lupus muttered, staring down at his hand with fascination. Frost still clung to his claws, glimmering faintly in the moonlight. “Why didn’t I branch out and seek out others like you sooner? It makes me wonder... what would I have become if I had eaten that damned Minotaur instead?”
The thought hung in the air like a cruel joke.
But even if Lupus tried to consume the Minotaur now, it wouldn’t matter. His body had already adapted, locked into the Yeti’s power. A second beast of that level would grant him strength only temporarily, a fleeting taste of what might have been. Still, he was more than satisfied. The elemental edge he had gained didn’t just amplify his attacks, it completed them.
He hadn’t even tested the full extent of these new powers, but there was no need. He already knew the potential. And besides, he would need to conserve his energy. There were more opponents ahead, and his hunger was far from sated.
Slowly, Lupus stepped forward, his massive form looming as he prepared to finish Apollo off once and for all. But then,
“Slit!” Lupus growled, his voice reverberating like thunder. “What are you doing here?”
The air shimmered as Slit deactivated the power of his daggers, his body flickering into view. He was hunched over, clutching his side, his face pale with pain. Blood stained his uniform, but he stood firm.
“Lupus... I’m here on Ylva’s orders,” Slit said, his voice tight but steady. “Gary Dem’s location has been found. He’s still able to fight. I came to inform you, head northeast from here. There’s a restaurant. That’s where they are.”
The name sparked something in Lupus. His lips twisted into a smile, though only half his face seemed capable of it, stretching unnervingly as his eyes glinted with hunger.
“Gary... so it’s finally time,” Lupus rumbled. “Then I suppose I’ll need to finish my meal rather quickly.”
From where he lay on the ground, Apollo staggered to his feet, every muscle screaming in protest. He had heard every word. His heart sank.
The whole reason they had split apart was to buy time. To give Gary and the others a chance. Three hours, that was how long they had to endure. But how much time had really passed? Two hours? Maybe three at most?
If Lupus reached Gary now, if the two clashed before the plan was complete... Gary wouldn’t stand a chance.
As these thoughts clawed at Apollo, something else happened.
In the middle of his conversation with Slit, Lupus’s body twitched. His lips curled back, baring sharp teeth. A snarl tore out of his throat. His eyes shifted, glowing an ominous red, the whites almost entirely consumed by the burning color.
“What is that?!” Slit gasped, stumbling back instinctively.
Lupus turned his head toward the field. His instincts had been right. Something was coming.
In the distance, the air shimmered with a frosty mist. With each step, the ground froze solid, ice spreading in jagged patterns across the earth. The figure’s form was hazy, shrouded in cold vapor, but there was no mistaking the presence.
And then, two red eyes glowed through the fog.
A beast on all fours, its body cloaked in frost, walked steadily toward Lupus. Each step was deliberate. Each movement sent the temperature plummeting.
The battlefield shifted.
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