The Alpha Werewolf’s arrival shook the battlefield. His mere appearance was enough to silence even the snarls and cries of the other wolves around him. Don’s eyes sharpened instantly. There was no doubt in his mind, this was the opponent he needed to face.
The pressure rolling off the beast was suffocating. Don had faced a terrifyingly fast opponent not long ago, but the presence standing before him now was heavier, more crushing. It was a suffocating weight that pressed down on the chest and made every breath feel shallow.
The Werewolf’s fur was deep black, thick and wild, with veins glowing faint crimson that pulsed across patches of exposed skin. Both of his eyes glowed a bloody red, no whites, no pupils, only endless scarlet that radiated hunger and violence. His body was massive, muscles corded with inhuman density, each movement rolling like a mountain in motion.
Down his back ran a thick streak of fur, standing out like a mane, bristling as though charged with static. His claws were obsidian, jagged and sharp, yet even they were threaded with a faint, pulsing red light, as if blood itself fueled their edge.
And then there was the subtle change. Gary, watching from a distance, had been the first to notice it. The streak of fur running from the Alpha’s head down his spine bore new markings, at the tips, the black gave way to faint touches of white.
It was subtle, but obvious enough. It was proof of what had happened. The white streaks were the influence of Ice, consumed and absorbed, changing Lupus’s body even further.
“This is mine,” Don muttered under his breath. His eyes hardened, and scales began to creep up across his body, rippling along his arms and chest until his torso was armored. Spikes jutted out along his shoulders and back, jagged and razor sharp.
Water that lingered on the ground trembled at his command. Although the rain had stopped, the battlefield was drenched, perfect fuel for his power. The liquid coiled, gathering, and from it Don forged a weapon.
A trident took form, shimmering and sharp, swirling with condensed water pressure.
“The first one to strike,” Don growled, gripping the weapon tightly, “always has the advantage.”
He hurled it forward with all his strength. The weapon cut through the air, a streak of glimmering force racing straight for Lupus’s chest.
The Alpha turned his head lazily, his red eyes following the oncoming strike. One clawed hand lifted, casual, almost dismissive. The trident met his palm with explosive force, then broke apart, crumbling instantly back into droplets that splashed harmlessly onto the ground.
Don’s eyes widened. “Well... that’s a first.”
He knew his own power. Even the smallest shard of water he shaped could carry the weight of a hammer blow when thrown. His tridents were more than sharp, they were dense, forceful, and nearly impossible to deflect without taking damage. And yet Lupus had not even dodged. He had simply caught it, and it had shattered like fragile glass.
Don had hardly blinked before Lupus moved.
The Alpha leapt forward, a blur of black and red. The sheer wind pressure of his movement sent Werewolves around him flying into the air, their bodies spinning uncontrollably. Even his own pack could not stand near him when he chose to charge.
Don braced, trident forming again in his hand, but Lupus was already there. His claw swung downward through the air, a single strike filled with terrifying intent.
The claw missed him, but it didn’t matter. The force of the strike split the air itself, carving an invisible blade across the battlefield. Dozens of Werewolves caught in the arc were sliced apart, their bodies torn open in sprays of blood. A handful of Howler members, nearly five meters away, were hurled backward, the pressure sending them skidding across the dirt. Those even farther, ten meters away, stumbled and fell to the ground, pushed back by the violent wind alone.
He’s fast... but I just fought someone who was incredibly fast. My senses are still sharp. I can do this, Don thought, his body low, eyes trained on the Alpha.
But before he could ready himself again, something closed around his ankle.
Lupus’s clawed hand had already seized him. It was like a vice, crushing, unbreakable. Don pulled, twisted, but no matter how much force he exerted, the grip did not budge. His scales creaked under the pressure.
Then Lupus lifted him as though he weighed nothing at all and slammed him down into the earth.
The impact was catastrophic. The ground ruptured beneath the blow, a fissure ripping outward like a jagged scar. The force traveled in waves, splitting stone and sending cracks racing out across the battlefield.
Dust and debris rose around Don’s crumpled body. Pain exploded through him, but he was still conscious, still alive. He was Don, one of the strongest Altereds in the world. That alone was the reason he hadn’t been torn apart instantly.
Groaning, he forced himself up slightly, coughing. “I’m starting to think this deal I made... might’ve been a little unfair.” His voice was strained, but he still forced a grin.
Don knew the truth. To even survive against Lupus, he would have to give it everything. But giving it everything came at a cost. The fight wasn’t about winning, it was about lasting thirty minutes until the sun rose. That was the deep fear gnawing at him.
If I use everything right now, can I even last that long?
Across the battlefield, Gary clutched the warhammer at his side. He was fighting alongside Blake, pushing back against other wolves, but his eyes kept flickering toward the clash between Don and Lupus. The ground itself shook with every movement, every collision.
I’m worried... Gary thought. Don is strong. They say he’s as strong as one of the Kings. But it took me in my full form, with Edvard’s armor at my side, just to keep up with Lupus. Can Don really handle this alone?
The ground rumbled again, dust rising like smoke. The clash between Alpha and Altered had truly begun.
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