Chapter 1488: The Black-Furred Monster
In a battle of this scale, where two massive forces clashed head-on, the smallest detail could shift the tide. Who struck first? Who showed no fear? The answer to that question would decide morale, and morale could decide victory.
Thankfully, the Howlers had someone like Austin on their side. Reckless, fearless, and unyielding, he was the type who didn’t hesitate to charge straight into danger. While others might falter at the sight of the monstrous horde rushing toward them, Austin didn’t care. He didn’t think about what lurked deeper in the mass of snarling wolves. He didn’t flinch at the glint of fangs or the claws gleaming with beast gear enhancements. He simply ran headfirst into the storm.
With a sudden burst of strength, his horns stretched and curved outward, gleaming under the faint moonlight. The sharpened tips wrapped tightly around two Werewolves that had lunged at him from either side. Austin yanked them in and, with both fists raised, slammed down with earth-shattering force. His knuckles collided with their chests like twin cannons.
The impact echoed like explosions. The ground cracked beneath the force, and dust rose around him. The Howler members watching could scarcely believe what they were seeing, but Austin didn’t slow down.
I was hoping they’d hesitate, maybe even falter for a second after that hit… Austin thought grimly as he glanced around. But there’s no fear in their eyes at all. If anything, they look sharper, more focused.
The dual effects of both the Alpha’s howl and the Luna’s cry had stripped away hesitation. What filled the Werewolves now was something far worse, razor-edged focus, a predator’s frenzy without recklessness.
Austin caught another by the arm, pivoted, and flipped the snarling beast onto its back. His foot came down like a hammer, cracking the floor beneath the wolf’s skull. More surged toward him, claws slashing, spears made from hardened bone and beast gear stabbing through the air.
He had been here before. This wasn’t the first time he’d been swarmed from every angle, surrounded by waves of enemies determined to tear him apart. His muscles burned, his horns lashed, and his body spun in the chaos.
Then, salvation rained from above.
A sudden storm of feathers descended, sharp as steel, slicing into the charging wolves. Each feather cut hide and muscle, forcing snarls of pain from the beasts below. The air whistled as more volleys followed.
It was Sadie, Frank, Vlad, and Crawley, still bloodied, still injured, but not beaten. They had taken to the skies again, unleashing what support they could. Crawley’s wings snapped wide, his feathers cutting down like a barrage of arrows.
“Austin! Fall back!” Gary’s voice boomed from behind.
Austin didn’t need to be told twice. With a grunt, he turned, bursting forward with a surge of speed that blurred his form. He could have relied on his portal ability to escape, but right now he chose raw speed. He wanted his enemies to see him running, to know that he could still outrun death itself.
The Werewolves chased, but the moment they closed in, Gary was there. He sprinted ahead, warhammer raised high, and leapt into the air. His body twisted, and with both hands gripping the weapon, he brought it down with all his might.
The hammer slammed into the earth like a meteor. The ground split apart in jagged lines, stone and soil blasting upward. A violent shockwave tore through the charging Werewolves, sending bodies tumbling back.
But even as the dust settled, Gary’s eyes narrowed. He could feel it in his arms, in his chest, the strike hadn’t carried the same devastation as before.
“They’re not being thrown back as much,” he muttered under his breath. “Is it because these are Lupus’s elites? Or is it their beast gear? Or… maybe Ylva’s enhancement is making them stronger than ever before.”
There was no time to dwell. Gary turned and ran, retreating alongside Austin back toward their allies. Behind them, the feathered Altereds rained down their storm of cutting blades, but it wasn’t enough. The wave of Werewolves kept pushing forward.
“They’re not slowing down…” Gary hissed, clenching his teeth.
“Come on!” Numba roared from the side. His voice carried raw defiance. “They can’t be the only ones fighting! Move!”
With his shout, Numba charged forward. His allies, Altereds who had survived the long night, followed in his wake. Around thirty-five fighters remained, still bloodied but unwilling to back down. They surged toward the oncoming wolves.
At the same time, something unexpected happened.
The restaurant doors burst open. Dozens of Howler members poured out from inside. Many of them had been holding defensive positions within, protected by the stronger walls. But now, despite the relative safety indoors, they chose to fight.
They came wielding anti-Altered weapons, rifles, crossbows, spears tipped with silver and steel, firing and throwing them into the swarm of wolves. Their aim wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. With so many targets crammed together, every shot found flesh. Wolves fell, staggered, or slowed, giving the Altereds precious breathing room.
Gary felt his chest swell. The sight of his people, untrained and unaltered, standing alongside warriors and Altereds alike, it meant something. It meant everything.
Then, with a roar, he turned and charged. The Howlers, Altereds, and their allies moved together, forming into an arrowhead formation. They smashed into the oncoming wave of Werewolves with the fury of desperation.
Innu led the charge, leaping high, his axe raised. He brought it down in a brutal arc that split a wolf’s skull. Blood sprayed across his face as he wrenched the weapon free. His energy returned to him with every strike, driving him forward like a storm.
Don weaved through the chaos, dodging a sword strike from a beast-geared Werewolf. Water swirled at his side, and with a whip-like motion, he lashed it across the wolf’s jaw. The slap cracked like thunder, sending the enemy reeling.
Blake ducked low beneath a swipe of claws. He spun on his heel, striking with precision at the back of a wolf’s neck. His blade cut deep, leaving the creature howling and staggering. Every move was measured, careful, controlled.
The battle was chaos incarnate. Blood and dust filled the air. Screams and snarls merged into one endless roar. The ground was littered with corpses, claws, and shattered weapons.
And then… silence, broken by a single heavy landing.
From above, a shadow dropped. A massive beast with jet-black fur crashed into the center of the battlefield. The impact sent a shockwave blasting outward, knocking Altereds and Werewolves alike off their feet.
The monster rose, towering over all others, its red eyes glowing like burning coals.
Its claws, long and jagged, reached out with terrifying ease. One massive hand clutched an Altered by the chest. The other seized his legs. With a savage pull, the beast ripped the man apart in two, blood spraying across the ground like rain.
Gasps and screams echoed across the battlefield. Even the bravest faltered at the sight.
Don’s face hardened. His jaw clenched, water swirling already at his side.
“I see…” he muttered, eyes locked on the towering shadow. “So that’s the one I need to deal with.”
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