From the wrecked vehicle, the one that had been obliterated by Austin’s thrown motorcycle, four Werewolves crawled out.
Each of them was already regenerating from the impact, their limbs cracking back into place, steam rising from their bodies. Even in their monstrous forms, they were covered in additional gear. Some wore spiked shoulder guards bolted directly into their armor. Others had strange, curved objects attached to the tips of their fingers, weaponized claws that gleamed under the city lights.
Austin clicked his tongue in irritation.
“Tch. Guess I wasn’t lucky enough to kill more than one,” he muttered to himself.
That was the thing about Werewolves, they were resilient. Ridiculously so. And these weren’t average ones. These were elite warriors from the second wave, and their durability was already proving to be far above standard.
As Austin raised his head, his gaze swept across the battlefield.
Nearly a hundred transformed, armored, and armed to the teeth. For just a second, Austin was taken aback.
But only for a second.
Because he already knew what needed to be done.
‘I used up a lot of energy dealing with the first wave,’ Austin thought, his breathing measured but heavy. ‘I can’t afford to keep using portals, not now. I need to conserve what I have left... use it where it matters most, on them.’
Even from just a glance, he could tell that these Werewolves weren’t pushovers. Every muscle, every stance, every piece of custom Dark Guild gear screamed danger.
He found himself wondering, was this situation better or worse than the one where he had faced off against Lupus alone?
Before he could answer that question, a booming voice echoed through the night.
“What a brave man!” Broodie shouted. “For a single person to stand before us... that takes guts. But you’ve already caused more than enough trouble.”
Broodie stepped forward, slamming his shield-covered arm against his chest, then pointing it at Austin. The metallic clang rang out with every hit.
“That’s why I’ve decided it’s best to be cautious. We’re going to eliminate you completely, before you can do any more damage!”
Austin shifted his gaze toward the one speaking.
The Werewolf had a massive shield strapped to his arm and was pounding on it with rhythmic intensity.
Austin raised a brow.
“I’m going to take a guess,” he said dryly, “the one who talks the most is the leader.”
Without wasting another breath, Austin kicked off the ground.
Just raw, explosive speed.
The pavement cracked beneath his feet as he rocketed forward, horned arm tucked in tight, winding around his body like a coiled snake. And then, he punched.
He twisted his body into the strike, wrapping his horned forearm around the momentum and throwing every ounce of force into the blow.
Broodie braced behind his shield, planting his feet firmly into the ground.
The collision was deafening.
A vibrating clang echoed outward as the impact rattled through Broodie’s bones. The force was enough to lift him off the ground and send him flying backward, slamming into the hood of a nearby car.
The vehicle crumpled under the weight of the Werewolf warrior.
Austin stood where he’d landed, eyes narrowing.
Broodie groaned, steam pouring from his nostrils. He pushed himself out of the dented metal, his armor cracked in places, but his shield?
But he wasn’t smiling anymore.
“GET HIM!” Broodie roared, rage overtaking reason.
And just like that, the pack charged.
A barrage of projectiles began flying in Austin’s direction.
Arrows, spears, blades, some glowing with energy, others sharpened and deadly by raw design alone. It was a storm of metal, and it was coming fast.
Austin was only one man.
And he wasn’t exactly known for his speed.
Most of his strength came in explosive bursts, powerful, devastating, but hard to sustain in rapid succession. When he had fought the first wave of Werewolves, they had all come at him up close. That had worked in his favor.
These enemies weren’t closing the distance, they were keeping him at range and striking with coordinated precision. And the damage... it was stacking fast.
Austin swung his massive fists, shattering some of the incoming projectiles. Splinters of wood and shards of metal flew around him as he tried to clear a path, but there were too many. Far too many.
One spear, longer and heavier than the rest, struck him directly in the side.
Gritting his teeth, he reached for the shaft embedded in his ribs.
But before he could pull it free, it was yanked out from the other end, ripping through flesh with a brutal twist.
More were on the way.
And just as the pain began to register, they came.
Charging from the ground.
One lunged forward, and Austin slammed his foot into the concrete, uprooting a chunk of rock and hurling it forward to intercept. It smashed into the charging beast, sending him flying, but more came, faster and stronger.
One leapt into the air, swinging a sword down from above.
Austin didn’t flinch.
He tilted his body and brought his horned arm upward, meeting the blade mid-air.
The impact echoed, but Austin’s horns, thick, hardened, and reinforced by his Altered physiology, didn’t crack. They didn’t shatter.
There were only a few individuals who had ever managed to break through those horns, and he wasn’t sure if any of these Werewolves were among them.
Still, his mind had little time to linger.
Broodie was already back in the fight.
With a roar, the Werewolf leader charged in low and slammed his shield upward, right into Austin’s jaw.
The blow lifted Austin off his feet and sent him crashing backward. Before he could even fully land, more Werewolves pounced, two latching onto his arms, others trying to dogpile him completely.
But Austin wasn’t done yet.
With a roar that shook the air, he twisted his body and hurled them off like ragdolls. Some slammed into the ground with bone-snapping force, others simply tumbled away, stunned.
Austin jumped back to create distance, blood running down from his nose where Broodie’s shield had struck.
This was getting harder.
Much harder than he expected.
Up above, standing on a rooftop that overlooked the battlefield, two figures watched in silence.
Vlad narrowed his eyes.
“Do you want to help him?” he asked, glancing at the girl beside him. “I’ll go down there if you say the word. But I’m warning you now, if we join the fight, we won’t last long.”
Vere didn’t answer right away.
She was tense. Anxious.
She knew that with the sheer number of enemies on the ground, they wouldn’t be reinforcements, they’d be distractionsat best.
They’d only add to the chaos, not solve it.
But that’s when her ears twitched.
Something... was coming.
A low hum. Rhythmic. Mechanical.
And there, cutting through the clouds, she saw it.
A helicopter, fast, low, and closing in.
For updates on MWS and future works, follow me on my social media below.
P.a.t.r.e.o.n: jksmanga
When news drops about My Vampire System, My Werewolf System, or any other series, you’ll hear it there first. Feel free to reach out, if I’m not too busy, I tend to reply.