Night deepens.
The bright moon hangs high in the sky.
Hans, alone, rides through the closed district.
The street is empty, and the light from residential houses on both sides, along with the intentionally lowered voices, quickly disappear as the sound of horse hooves passes by.
The massacres once inflicted by the Crusaders on the Saracens, even after hundreds of years, remain etched in the hearts of the heretics in this city.
In the winged cavalry company under Losa, only Hans has the qualification to patrol alone.
The others must travel in pairs, at the very least, for safety.
"Halt—"
Hans stopped in front of a temple.
This is a temple named the Holy Fire Temple, where, according to legends, theological classics of the Fire Worship are stored, translated into various languages, along with manuscripts left by the prophet.
Many monks of the Fire Worship travel miles to peruse and admire the scriptures left by sages.
Hans sat atop his horse, sniffing the air.
A short distance ahead, he smelled a scent both familiar and unfamiliar. The source of thɪs content is Nov3lFɪre.ɴet
Primitive, ferocious.
Wild, brutal.
He searched his mind and suddenly realized: "This is... similar to Abelardo’s scent? Werewolves of this world!"
Hans tied his horse by the roadside and walked forward slowly.
A moment later.
He saw a gloomy-faced man kneeling before the temple under an olive tree, drawing crosses before him incessantly and praying.
Hans stood a short distance behind him and said loudly, "Werewolf, if you wish to confess to the Heavenly Father, why worship at the heretic’s temple?"
The man’s body tensed, and he whispered, "I prayed to the Heavenly Father but received no response."
Hans said nothing, quietly waiting.
A long while.
The man spoke again, "You’re alone, why dare expose my identity?"
"Though I’m alone, I’m sufficient to deal with you."
Hans appeared calm; he had now become a Five-Star Attendant, his strength multiplied many times over since before, thinking it easy enough to resolve a mere werewolf.
"The corpse in the sewer, was it your doing? I heard you pray, but unfortunately, it won’t absolve your sins."
"I... I didn’t mean to."
"I can’t control my appetite."
"Please, leave quickly."
The man’s face showed an expression between crying and not crying. He raised his hands: "You couldn’t possibly imagine the terrifying power a werewolf possesses; I have... fallen into the Devil’s embrace."
"Even in the Holy City closest to the Celestial Kingdom, I still haven’t felt salvation—Heavenly Father’s power simply cannot contend with the Devil."
Hans murmured, "Blasphemous words."
He seemed dazed and said hesitantly.
He too was now a werewolf, no longer that Knight Order attendant obsessed with using swords and guns to proclaim faith. Speaking of blasphemy, his very existence was itself a desecration of the Heavenly Father.
"I... can’t control it."
"Get away quickly."
He showed a painful expression, a black hair like a steel needle pierced his cheek.
And it was just the beginning.
What followed was a scene that could make a trypophobic person faint.
Dense black hair, as if imbued with life, pierced through the man’s flesh and skin, growing frantically, covering his entire body within moments.
His muzzle became narrow, sharp, and two rows of sharp fangs protruded from beneath his lips.
Along with the creaking sound of bone expansion, his legs and arms elongated.
In the blink of an eye, the man transformed into a towering figure, a three-meter-tall black werewolf.
Hans was thoughtful.
So this is what it’s like to witness a werewolf’s transformation in the third person, somewhat like how it happened for him.
"Heh heh."
A low laughter echoed.
"You asked for it, I gave you a chance."
In the sinister laugh, the werewolf bared his full mouth of fangs.
Hans remarked, "You are much larger than my transformed size. Let me weigh whether you differ from Abelardo, whether it’s the breed or the number of humans devoured?"
The werewolf found it hard to comprehend Hans’s calmness and curiosity, or his mention of transformation and Abelardo.
A suppressed low growl was heard, and the werewolf suddenly pounced, tight muscles like springs launching its massive body at Hans.
Clang—
The werewolf’s claws met the blade of Hans’s sword.
Hans was hit with violent force, forced to stagger back.
But the werewolf’s sharp claws had grabbed hold of Hans’s Armed Sword, and when he struggled, he was surprised to find himself completely overpowered in strength by the werewolf.
Unlike the battles with Abelardo and Losa.
Abelardo had to fight confined in a narrow suit of armor, unable to use the werewolf’s greatest weapons, claws and teeth.
He couldn’t make moves like pouncing either.
This greatly limited the werewolf’s combat power.
This was one of the key reasons why Losa managed to win back then.
But this time, the werewolf Hans faced was even fiercer than Abelardo, and could unleash its full power without restraint, putting Hans at a disadvantage.
"Seems I am still no match for the Master."
Hans loosened his grip, no longer grappling with the werewolf.
The werewolf, caught off guard and using too much force, stumbled back several steps.
It picked up the Knight’s Sword, already bent by great strength, and disdainfully tossed it aside, grinning: "Without a weapon, let’s see how you’ll fight me."
In the werewolf’s heart, it was also filled with astonishment.
Hans was the strongest human it had ever encountered.
Normally, let alone grappling, once transformed into a werewolf, it only needed a little effort to knock those knights wearing heavy barrel helmets, along with their heads, flying.
"Werewolf sir, please allow me to take off my armor, so it won’t hurt your teeth."
Hans took off his cloak, sat on the ground, and in a relaxed manner, removed his chain armor shirt.
"Are you crazy?"
The werewolf looked at Hans with full vigilance, unable to comprehend why he would remove the armor that was his lifeline, leaving his frail human body vulnerable, like a piece of paper, before it.
"I’m certainly not crazy."
Hans removed the chain armor, then took off the linen shirt underneath: "It’s just that I’ve realized there’s no way I can achieve the feat of killing a werewolf with a human body like my Master did."
"Are you kidding?"
The werewolf felt Hans was making a joke as absurd as a Heavenly tale; no one knows better than it the terror of a werewolf, how could a mortal possibly kill a werewolf?
"Stalling for time?"
The werewolf was alert, realizing it had already been stalled by Hans for too long.
It lowered its body, kicked off with its legs.
With muscles as hard as marble, it lunged at the unarmed Hans like a cannonball.
"So let’s have a duel of wolf against wolf."
Hans whispered, baring his athletic muscles.
Then, lowering his body, he leaped forward in a manner identical to the black werewolf opposite him.
While still in mid-air, white fur sprouted from his body.
In the blink of an eye, Hans completed the transformation from human to werewolf form.
Then came a dull thud.
Both fell to the ground together.
The black werewolf let out a hoarse growl: "You too! You are actually one too! No wonder your power is so strong; being both forsaken by God, why do you attack me."
Hans replied softly: "I’m no God-forsaken."
I have God.
And He had once actively responded to me.
Then, he swung his claws and slammed down.
Sharp claws left a deep, bone-exposing scar on the black werewolf’s chest.
The black werewolf, enraged, kicked Hans flying.
It got up from the ground gasping for breath: "Damn beast, a mere two-meter wolf, I will show you what it means to respect your elders!"
Hans stood up unscathed, unlike the werewolves in this world, his transformation is time-limited, but he does not lose sanity, nor does he follow the principle of growing bigger as one grows stronger.
Next moment.
The two werewolves tangled again.
Abandoning all civilized power, they turned to the most primitive claws and teeth, doing everything possible to destroy the other.
The black werewolf was stunned to find that even though Hans’s werewolf form was much smaller, his strength was actually more terrifying.
At first, it could rely on superior battling skill to take the advantage.
But as time passed, this white werewolf appeared increasingly familiar with this werewolf form, learning how to fight with claws and teeth.
Clearly just a poor imitator, it became stronger and more troublesome.
The black werewolf watched helplessly as Hans crushed him step by step.
Until Hans’s sharp rows of teeth pressed against its neck.
Crunch—
In the werewolf’s eyes, lizard-like brown-yellow vertical pupils gradually lost their brilliance.
He moved his mouth slightly and said quietly.
"Lilith, my world is in darkness."
Hans raised his blood-stained wolf head, with blood dripping from his mouth.
He gazed at the bright moon.
And then,
let out a melodious wolf howl!