As Don Tinge stared at the enemy before him, his eyes swept over the swarm, around seventy or so Werewolves, though he still believed most of them were Altered. They stood ready to fight, fangs bared and eyes glinting with primal hunger.
Then came the others, emerging from behind in a tight, coordinated wave, sealing off any chance of escape. They closed in like a tightening net, their formation designed to crush from every side.
The sight alone pulled at memories, his last conversation with Kai flashing vividly in his mind.
There were a few things Don Tinge had wanted to test for himself.
First, whether the Howlers would be the aggressors.
If Kai’s group had been the ones to launch an assault on Ruin City, to attack Lupus and his forces outright, Don would have refused without hesitation.
His heart, and everything he had ever stood for, wouldn’t allow it. Even knowing that eliminating Lupus meant removing a greater threat, he couldn’t be the one to strike first. That wasn’t who he was.
It was far easier for him to fight when he knew he had something worth protecting.
Right now, that was exactly what he saw. The Werewolves ahead, if they slipped past him, he could already imagine the havoc they would wreak in the city.
Even if the general public wasn’t their direct target, a gang war on city streets would bring nothing but destruction and collateral pain. Innocent people would be caught in the chaos, whether they were meant to be or not.
“You two, cover my back!” Don shouted, his voice carrying over the sound of growls and scraping claws. “Make sure no one gets to me, and nothing touches me!”
Chen reacted instantly, spinning on his heel as streams of water swirled from his hands, forming a shield that deflected several incoming attacks.
Austin hesitated for only a moment before throwing himself into the fray, ramming his shoulder into a Werewolf so hard it sent the creature flying. Without pause, he stomped down, forcing a jagged wall of earth to rise from the ground, blocking a fresh volley of strikes.
With fewer enemies pressing from behind, Don now had the space to act.
“You sure he’s going to be okay?” Austin called over his shoulder. “There’s a lot of them, and they’re wearing heavy armor!”
It wasn’t an unreasonable concern. Even Chen, despite his speed and skill, had been forced to struggle against their defenses.
Especially since one of those among the enemy ranks was Broodie, the former Ironfang member, and the man carrying that massive shield.
Chen didn’t falter. “He’s one of the strongest Altered alive. You fought Sin, remember? You saw the kind of destruction he could unleash? Well, imagine someone like Sin, about to face all of them.”
As the Werewolves roared and prepared to surge forward again, Don simply raised one hand, extending it toward the sky.
At first, it seemed meaningless, just a silent, still gesture.
Then the air shifted. Dark clouds began to coil above them, swirling together at unnatural speed. The sky dimmed, the light fading as if a storm had been summoned out of nowhere.
And it was clear, this was no act of nature. The storm was his.
“A power to control the weather?” Broodie muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. His grip on the shield tightened. “Just what kind of Altered is he?”
Moments later, Don lowered his hand, and the heavens opened.
Rain crashed down in heavy sheets, the drops so thick and forceful they were more like a torrential curtain than a storm. Yet there was something unnatural about it, this downpour fell only on the battlefield, the city beyond remaining untouched beneath clear skies. It was as though Don had carved out a private storm, trapping them all inside.
Four of the Werewolves couldn’t stand it any longer. They weren’t about to sit and wait for whatever came next. With feral snarls, they darted forward, claws ripping through the rain.
Don didn’t move until they were almost on him. Then his arms sliced through the air, and the rain itself obeyed his command. Water surged in crashing waves, striking the charging Werewolves with brutal force.
Armor shattered under the impact, fragments clattering across the slick ground. The force left them stumbling, their snarls fading into pained growls.
The rest of the pack slowed, their caution mounting. And then, they saw it.
A change was happening to Don Tinge himself.
Muscles, already powerful, began to swell, bulging to near monstrous proportions until his frame was that of a semi-giant. His clothes ripped under the strain, tearing away in strips until his altered form stood fully revealed.
Along his ribs and neck, gills split open, pulsing faintly with each breath. His skin darkened to a deep oceanic blue, the shading rippling across him like the surface of the sea at night.
His eyes glowed with a bioluminescent light, pupil-less and alien, their darkness seeming to pull you in. Looking into them was like staring into an ancient, sentient abyss, something vast, something that had seen eons.
His hair, now impossibly long, whipped and swayed like a nest of serpents, yet each strand shimmered with metallic hardness, sharp-edged scales catching the glint of lightning above.
Three massive spikes jutted from his back, curved and deadly, while two more extended from his forearms, honed to razor-sharp points like natural blades.
Even witnessing the transformation in full, the Werewolves had no name for what they faced.
But Chen knew. The moment the change completed, a shiver ran through his body, cutting deeper than the cold rain.
“He’s going all out,” Chen murmured, voice low, almost reverent. “I’m a guardian, classified as a fake dragon, but I can’t even imagine what they’ll think of him.”
He drew in a breath, eyes fixed on the leviathan before them. “Don Tinge... he’s known as the Dragon of the Sea. A leviathan.”
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