“How dare you kill my friends? You filthy human!” Filled with rage and with the intent to kill, his other grey hand flew at Astal with all his fingers in line, revealing five sharp and long claws, in an attempt to deliver a swift killing blow.

However, green particles sprouted from Astal’s fit, manly body, shining beautifully like fireflies did during a winter’s night.

The energy allocated itself to his feet and legs, dexterously allowing himself to roll to the right side, far from harm.

“You won’t escape!” The beastly body lunged itself at him, similar to a black panther, willing to take a deadly bite at its prey.

Yet, the golden dagger and the hand glued to it shone. And with its brightness, a vertically abnormal fast swing took over the air. It sounded no different from a whip hitting the naked back of a poor victim.

The wolf’s eyes moved closer onto its nose as the small weapon took its cut, leaving but a head divided in two.

“To think these runts would make me use an ability,” a long exhale followed together with muscle pain. Despite the struggle, he got up as the opponent’s body fell from the force of gravity, allowing his hand to retake the rapier and the dagger to once more rest by his waistline, drenching his white pants, tainting its purity in red.

In no time, five of the wolf kin stood lying on the bloodied grass.

His eyes glanced over at the leftover foes, who didn’t dare rush at him like these did.

Their size was a bit taller than the one standing before them. Yet from the way the man moved, their brains understood that he was not someone to be taken lightly, especially so as they were warriors. Beastly figures prepared to obey orders and die if necessary, to see them fulfilled.

Therefore, they didn’t carelessly move forward, but didn’t retreat either. The journey till this mansion on the outskirts had been long, a few hours of walking while sniffing Keru’s scent. And they had invaded humanity’s territory. They couldn’t just go empty-handed. If a war broke up from their move, then they had to at least get the girl. Hopefully, exterminate any witnesses, avoiding a major conflict altogether.

Nonetheless, sometimes life doesn’t go out the way we want it to go, and four of them were now dead. With one severely injured, leaving another four still alive. A small raid of nine beastly figures that didn’t quite work as they planned.

Left with no choice, the leader began walking, carrying for all to see the grand axe, capable of swiping a small tree in a single cleave.

“To think I’d see a human using the arts,” his voice scorned Astal, holding a lingering taste of disdain in its long tongue.

“Didn’t expect a mere beast to know them,” he scolded back, buying himself time to regain his breathing, no longer maintain the green glow.

Since the arts demanded a price, not always a physical one, like oneself stamina in this case.

“You’re strong, for a human,” it smirked evilly, raising the morale of those around him.

“I just happen to know a trick or two,” a presumptuous bluff, with the intent to undermine himself.

Yet with no effect, as the fierce beast laughed loudly, “you cannot trick my eyes human!”

“Fuh,” he exhaled deeply, “so what are you waiting for?”

The swordsman held the rapier vertically the way the combat began. The standard stance with little to no gaps, leaving the silverish line between his golden eyes, contrasting further with his hair, who carried the same color as the weapon’s steel.

This beast was clearly different from the rest, some levels above. It’s body thick and muscled, protected by an armor, leaving few spots for the rapier to pierce.

As a master fencer, it gave him no choice but to be wary of his opponent’s moves, and with the utmost grace, he would need to evade such dangerous attacks. Before the fight even began, multiple scenarios ran over his mind, and unexpectedly, a new variant came to play.

The beast held the axe with both hands, roaring, causing fear and a vile sensation to seep into the man. A blue aura emitted from the wild one, followed by its outer layer to increase in size. It was the expansion of every single muscle, showing thick green veins.

Astal whistled, surprised at the power up, a buff onto the beast, and a debuff from the roar against the man. Yet he gritted his teeth, doing his best to remain focused and unfazed. There was no time to be amazed or even in shock, for the beast took enormous and heavy steps his way, causing a tiny earthquake with each one. Mercilessly, its footsteps printed the grass underneath, showing the nature of his oppression and strength.

“Master! Take mine!” With a wild throw Afonso sent his sword to him, who grabbed it without an issue, letting go of the rapier which pierced the ground, drowning part of it in its earth.

In his hands now remained a long sword inside a scabbard. And without time to remove it, he held it with both hands, raising it in the air, blocking the grandiose chop. A great impact followed, along with a loud noise of metal clashing into similar material. A shock-wave spread further around both, forcing Astal’s feet to slide through the greenery.

‘What a powerful hit,’ such words passed inside his mind, holding a newly gained respect for his opponent.

He took a jump back then two creating some safe distance, surprising the beast who didn’t take him for a runner.

His trained hands unsheathed the truth from his hands, for there were no lies regarding his effort and talent. This time around there were no grudges, weakly thoughts, or emotions of the sort. The look in his eyes spoke above all of that. They told the tale of one who spent his entire life on the path of the sword. There was no art, no aura, nothing but a deep determination in his gaze, and that was enough to shake his opponent.

The two moved onto each other, clashing their weapons diagonally. The red eyes met with the golden ones, neither figure backing away, not even when the beast’s teeth could gnaw at the man’s shoulder. It was now a duel between two soldiers, who arrived to survive and fulfil their oaths. A fight for their righteousness, whereas no other could meddle.

With brute strength, the beast shook his sword aside, feeling it to be pushed far easier, far lighter than what he anticipated, having its axe move further to the side than he wanted. Lured by the scent of the opponent, by his experienced self, embraced by a warm and fuzzy feeling.

A bloodthirsty aura returned to the greenery. If it had a color, it would have been a vivid red, squelched right from a stomp at a living heart.

The sword moved elegantly upward, similar to the axe, a double-edged one, capable of inflicting damage on either side of its beautiful line.

The beast reacted by pulling its head back the fastest it could, warned by its survival instinct.

Nonetheless, the tip cut the skin under and above its red eye, a shallow slash that didn’t extent deep enough to harm one of the opponent’s senses.

It growled, groaning in a slight pain, becoming more vicious, causing saliva to leave the corners of its mouth.

A ferocious howl followed, far heavier than the last one, and with it a heavy blow.

Like the geniuses of renaissance, a majestic art followed. His sword parried each chop, each cleave skilfully, exhausting his opponent’s strength hit after hit. Damaging its sword as little as possible.

In Afonso’s eyes, it looked no different from the times he taught the children how to use a sword. It was nostalgic, bringing a tear and a humble smile to his expression.

Realising his blows not going anywhere, it stopped, regaining some breath, taking a step back to pass his arm, swatting off the blood that annoyed his eye.

“Curse you human!” It complained as everything was out of place. The records didn’t indicate the enemy’s survival. The prophet had been quite coherent about the fox girl dying in the white plains. But something, a variant, had changed the course of history, its prophecy and the rise of the grey wolf clan to dominate the world.

“Why, why, why?” Its mouth scorned respectively at its fate. Exhausted and angry towards its situation, its head faced the surrounding ones.

“Circle him and crush his beating heart!” Noticing the danger that approached Astal, he placed his long sword above his left arm, placing his body sideways, a counter-style stance.

“It’s useless human! You will die today!” Its angry tone reached Astal eardrums, parrying the voice that was no different from a buzz of a fly.

As the enemies approached, the pressure from the bloodthirsty aura increased, mixed with the green one that lightened around himself. Once the four of them encircled him and moved to deliver the lethal blow. Astal danced, swirling his body in 360 degrees radius, leaving three heads and weapons, and six hands floating monetarily in the air, along with a red thick liquid that followed the sword movement.

“Ugh, that’s quite a tough weapon,” the man’s tongue snickered at the grand axe that didn’t split in half like the rest.

“Die human!”

Unable to defend himself from the incredible pain flowing through his entire body, he cursed at his own fate, “fuck me.”

In the middle of the sunset, came the night along with its vast darkness. It pierced the head of the dominant wolf from behind, leaving but a crimson tip in its front for Astal to see. With this deadly movement, the reassuring sound of chimes ringing followed, causing the exhausted man to fall flat onto the ground, smiling victoriously.