Chapter 22: A Fight for Survival (2)

The Alpha didn’t roar; it didn’t need to.

As the massive, shadowy creature stepped through the wall of fire, the sheer weight of its mana suffocated the rocky alley. The flames bowed away from it, repelled by an invisible, crushing aura that radiated authority.

It looked like a wolf, but it wasn’t. It was a similar, far more ancient breed: a werewolf. It stood on two legs, a towering silhouette of muscle and dark fur. Its power seemed to bask in the darkness, skyrocketing under the faint, violet glow of the shattered sky. The Alpha had a massive, jagged slash across its face—a mark that didn’t show weakness but absolute, terrifying strength.

Its eyes, a hazy, glowing grey, stared directly at Arthur.

“Oliver,” Aria whispered, her voice barely audible. “That’s a werewolf. Fire won’t easily pierce its shield.”

Arthur didn’t reply. His mind was racing.

If any external pressure fails, Arthur thought, his grip tightening on his charred cane, then the pressure must be applied internally.

He pulled the three translucent gas sacs from his pocket, then ripped a strip of fabric from his coat and tied them together into a bundle.

The Alpha lunged. It was impossibly fast, a blur of shadow and razor-sharp claws.

Arthur didn’t dodge. He planted his left foot, raised the cane, and braced for the impact.

CRUNCH.

The beast’s jaws clamped down on the mana-reinforced wood, stopping just inches from Arthur’s face. Hot, foul breath washed over him. Arthur held on, his muscles screaming, using the cane to lever the Alpha’s jaws open.

Now!

Arthur let go with his left hand, shoving the bundle of gas sacs directly down the Alpha’s throat.

CRACK. The cane splintered.

Arthur pulled his hand back, aimed his palm down the beast’s throat, and drew on the absolute last spark of energy in his core.

BAM!

A shockwave of blue mana blasted from his palm, acting as a detonator.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The explosion was muffled inside the beast’s body. The werewolf’s chest expanded unnaturally, glowing with a sickening orange light, before its ribs and chest cavity ruptured outward.

Arthur was sent flying backward from the blast’s recoil, slamming hard into the stone wall and crumpling to the dirt; a few ribs had been broken for sure.

He lay there, gasping for breath. Through the smoke, he saw the mangled body of the werewolf hit the ground.

“We… we got it,” Arthur wheezed.

But as the smoke began to clear, a horrifying sound echoed in the rocky alley.

Snap. Crunch. Squelch.

Arthur’s eyes widened in sheer horror. The Alpha wasn’t dead; its flesh was knitting itself back together at a terrifying speed. Broken bones snapped back into place; shredded muscle rewove itself. The werewolf stood up, flashing a mocking smile, as if interested by the failed attempt on his life.

Arthur tried to move, but his body was paralyzed by exertion.

The beast locked its hazy grey eyes on him and pounced.

“Get away from him!”

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Aria stepped in front of Arthur, her crimson eyes flared with a desperate intensity. During Arthur’s gambit, she had managed to refine enough atmospheric mana to recover half her capacity.

She thrust her hands forward. “Crimson Volley!”

Four distinct, highly compressed darts of crimson fire shot from her fingertips. They weren’t wild sparks; they were shaped and directed with deadly precision. They struck the Alpha mid-air, detonating against its chest and forcing it to land short of Arthur.

The beast roared, swiping its massive claws.

Aria gracefully ducked under the lethal swipe; her movements were practiced and elegant. She brought her hands together, forming a triangle with her fingers.

“Intermediate Arts: Lotus Burst!”

A swirling flower of pure, blinding flames erupted beneath the Alpha. The pillar of the fire engulfed the beast, scorching the rocky walls and lighting up the night sky.

For a second, Aria stood tall, her silver hair whipping with the wind.