The pitch-black silhouette, the lowered wolf blades, and the amber wolf eyes staring in the night sent shivers down their spines.

  "Form up! Chain formation!"

  The sudden frenzy of the werewolves momentarily puzzled Sir Jacques, but he quickly realized the truth—they were indeed facing a Level 2 werewolf. However, such an opponent did not seem to faze a Level 1 knight like him. At his feet, two Level 1 werewolves had already fallen. In such a short time, he had slain two apostles of the same rank.

  Rudolf had no idea where Sir Jacques’ confidence came from, but he had already ordered his owl to deliver intelligence. He knew he couldn't handle this alone and had to prepare a backup plan. The owl glided silently through the forest, swiftly reaching its target.

  After Jacques' command, all the knight squires and cavalry gathered around him. The surrounding werewolves, of course, did not intend to let them regroup so easily; they became even more frenzied, pouncing upon the knight squires and cavalrymen.

  Rudolf and Ivonne had no choice but to push their way toward Jacques along with the other cavalrymen. Soon, a triangular wedge formation took shape around him. Jacques stood at the front, with his three children behind him, followed by the cavalry from his knight’s castle. Rudolf and Ivonne cautiously positioned themselves in the center of the formation.

  The cavalrymen on the perimeter continued battling the surrounding werewolves, swinging their weapons in an attempt to drive them back.

  Then, the Level 2 werewolf moved!

  Emerging from the shadows, its form became fully visible. Under the faint moonlight, its bone-like claws appeared unnaturally sharp.

  "Guardian Chain!"

  Jennifer’s heart leaped to her throat. She was shocked to hear her father unleash the knights’ most powerful ability.

  Hearing those words, Rudolf felt slightly relieved. He assumed the skill was meant to protect the weaker cavalry.

  In the next instant, dense, faintly glowing, semi-transparent chains shot out from Jacques’ back, precisely linking to every person and horse behind him. Now, everyone—riders and mounts alike—were connected to Jacques by a ghostly, spectral chain.

  Rudolf’s horse suddenly lost control and charged toward Jacques. Jacques himself was already surging forward, his momentum growing stronger by the second.

  Along with this, a terrible weakness set in.

  Rudolf felt it—the "Guardian Chain" was draining his stamina and energy. The point where the chain connected to his abdomen sent waves of spasms through his muscles. His strength and vitality seemed to be siphoned away, making even breathing a heavy burden. His chest felt impossibly heavy, and his entire body became sluggish.

  Was this why Jacques maintained such a large cavalry force?

  Rudolf suddenly recalled that history’s most renowned emperors took pride in the size of their cavalry. If an emperor had 100,000 cavalrymen, could he surpass even Level 2 or 3 adversaries?

  The Level 2 werewolf also noticed Jacques’ anomaly. Clearly, Jacques' power was increasing. This was his true purpose for challenging the Level 2 werewolf—a knight could only advance through battle. And there was a shortcut to a knight’s ascension: the "Guardian Chain."

  The Level 2 werewolf lunged at Jacques, aiming to interrupt his power accumulation as quickly as possible.

  Rudolf saw foam forming at the mouths of the horses. Jacques wasn’t just absorbing human strength and energy—he was draining the horses as well.

  Rudolf’s limbs grew weak. His vision blurred. Compared to him, Ivonne seemed to be holding up better—her werewolf physique was naturally far superior. However, the cavalrymen around them, though they trained daily, were not all stronger than apostles. Several had already fallen from their horses. And a knight who fell in battle had only one fate—to be torn to pieces by the swarming werewolves.

  They weren’t dying at the hands of werewolves. They were dying because of the knight’s ability.

  Some of the weaker cavalrymen showed unnatural facial hollows, their cheekbones becoming eerily pronounced in mere moments. If this "guardianship" continued, they risked turning into skeletons.

  The knight squires also began to waver, and Jacques’ three children visibly slowed down. But in exchange, Jacques’ sword strikes carried terrifying force.

  Rudolf finally understood—the "Guardian Chain" was a knightly ability that pooled collective strength into one wielder.

  Jacques’ first charge sent the Level 2 werewolf flying with a single strike.

  Rudolf watched in shock. A Level 1 knight had just done this?

  Werewolves were apostolic beings focused on physical enhancement, yet Jacques had slammed a Level 2 werewolf over thirty meters away.

  The cavalry shifted formation and engaged the werewolf again. Their unified assault left a wound on the creature’s shoulder, but it healed almost instantly, as if nothing had happened.

  Jacques’ expression darkened. He still wasn’t fully accustomed to wielding power beyond that of a Level 1 knight.

  The wedge formation accelerated once more, charging at the Level 2 werewolf.

  The werewolf let out a furious howl. The surrounding werewolves threw themselves at the cavalry in a desperate bid to stop them. They blocked the charge, clawed at the horses' legs, and leaped through the air toward the riders.

  The cavalry formation was unstoppable. Even as soldiers died one after another, they continued charging.

  The Level 2 werewolf bent its hind legs and unleashed a tremendous burst of strength, launching itself into the air.

  Rudolf barely saw a dark shadow hurtling toward Jacques before they violently collided.

  When the impact settled, Rudolf saw the aftermath.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The werewolf’s left claw—each digit bearing three long, razor-sharp blades—had pierced through Jacques’ abdomen. His reinforced armor had been utterly useless.

  Jacques’ sword had embedded itself into the werewolf’s throat, but only by a shallow centimeter or two. Meanwhile, the werewolf’s other claw had managed to block Jacques’ deadly sideways slash.

  This was not a lethal blow to the werewolf.

  "Haaah!" Jacques suddenly roared, and the Guardian Chain burst into a blinding radiance.

  With cavalrymen and horses dying rapidly, Jacques had no choice but to extract even more power from those who remained. His breakthrough was just within reach!

  Rudolf glanced down at his abdomen and felt another vicious tug, as though something inside him was about to be ripped out. His muscles screamed in pain, his entire body exhausted beyond its limits.

  This far exceeded what he could endure.

  He couldn’t hold on anymore. Rudolf collapsed from his horse.

  His horse, still chained to the Guardian Chain, also fell, pinning his leg beneath its weight.

  Some "guardianship" this was!

  Ivonne saw him fall and tried to dismount to protect him, but her own horse collapsed as well, trapping her leg under its weight.

  Even with her superior physique, she was too drained to free herself.

  The surrounding werewolves were closing in.

  From the front, a thunderous roar rang out—

  "Breakthrough! Level 2 Knight!"

  Jacques was just a step away from advancing.

  At that moment, the Guardian Chain didn't just drain Rudolf’s strength—it began extracting his star power as well.

  Damn it.

  Rudolf could feel his energy being funneled away.

  A werewolf lunged for his throat. Summoning the last of his strength, he raised his arm in defense. The werewolf’s jaws clamped down on his forearm instead.

  He knew he was about to die.

  Even if Jacques defeated the Level 2 werewolf, Rudolf would still be torn apart by the surrounding monsters. Ivonne, too, would be slaughtered.

  No wonder knights proclaimed themselves protectors of the weak—because the weak were useful to them.

  Looking toward Ivonne, he saw white fur sprouting from her body. She was losing control of her transformation.

  At that moment, Rudolf made a decision. He channeled his star power into venom.

  Scorpio Witchcraft—Poison.

  If Jacques wanted power, then take it all.

  Take it all and choke on it.

  At this moment, the knight's strength actually overpowered the Rank-2 werewolf. His sword had already pierced five centimeters into the werewolf's neck. The werewolf's neck was much thicker than the knight had imagined. Just as he was about to push forward and use this life-and-death battle to ascend to a Rank-2 knight, a sudden numbness and pain shot through his back.

  The guardian chain behind him connected him to his three children—his knight squires—and to his cavalry. But what was this force coursing through the chain? Poison? Who was behind it? A sorcerer? A plaguebringer? The knight’s momentum suddenly faltered; he could no longer build up his power like before.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he scanned his surroundings—all werewolves. If he died here, his three children would perish with him. Drawing upon his knightly swordsmanship, Sir Jacques swiftly switched from a slash to a thrust, driving his sword deep into the werewolf's throat. A werewolf wouldn’t die unless its head was severed, but piercing through the throat would still deal a heavy blow.

  Summoning every ounce of his strength, he twisted his broadsword inside the werewolf’s neck, attempting to decapitate it. But in an unfortunate twist of fate, his blade became lodged in the werewolf's vertebrae. In the final moment, the Rank-2 werewolf instinctively tilted its head, letting out a whimper as blood spurted from the wound.

  But none of that could change the fact that Sir Jacques' momentum was rapidly declining. The werewolf, now freed from blocking the sword, lashed out with its clawed blade at the knight’s helmet. The knight’s power could no longer fortify his armor. The claw sliced through—helmet and head split into four pieces.

  "Father!!!"

  Jennifer rushed forward, but it was too late. The knight was dead.

  The Rank-2 werewolf staggered back, still bleeding. A nearby Rank-1 werewolf hesitated, then lunged forward—not to help, but to seize the moment. It sank its teeth into the broadsword still stuck in the Rank-2 werewolf’s neck, violently shaking its head. The wound tore open further.

  Seeing one of their own make a move, the other Rank-1 werewolves swarmed the Rank-2 werewolf.

  The path to advancing among werewolves was simple—tear out the throat of a stronger werewolf and gulp down its blood. That was all it took to ascend.

  But Rudolf had no time to witness the birth of a new Rank-2 werewolf. He drew his revolver and fired at the werewolf near Ivonna. In this moment, the revolver’s agility outshone a shotgun. They weren’t far apart—two shots, and the werewolf was dead.

  By now, the smarter wolf thralls had already turned toward the chaotic battle between the Rank-1 and Rank-2 werewolves. If any of the Rank-1 werewolves were gravely wounded, the thralls, too, would have a chance at ascension.

  Such was the way of the werewolf tribes—there were no weak leaders. A feeble alpha would be challenged, defeated, and then torn apart by its own pack.

  The werewolves before Rudolf, however, were not among the clever ones. One still had its fangs clamped onto his arm, even at this moment.

  A gulp of blood.

  The werewolf felt as if it had been transported back to its human days—the first time it had ever tasted strong liquor. Fire burned through its chest and lungs, followed by searing pain. Its limbs went numb.

  The blood was poisoned.

  Rudolf pressed his revolver against the werewolf's head and pulled the trigger.

  At last, Ivonna had freed herself from her own troubles. She rushed to Rudolf, eyes filled with concern. She lifted the fallen horse and dragged Rudolf out.

  All around, chaos reigned—werewolves and the remaining knights were locked in a tangled melee. Some knights sought to protect Jacques' children; others burned with the desire for vengeance.

  Rudolf and Ivonna, however, had no ties to any of them.

  "Run!" Rudolf shouted.

  His leg was broken. Ivonna hoisted him onto her back without hesitation and sprinted out of the battle.

  Every full moon, Ivonna would lose herself to madness.

  Rudolf had once prepared several doses of anti-werewolf toxin, but she had long since used them all. Now, with his leg shattered, he had no good solution.

  As she carried him, Rudolf pulled out his pocket watch.

  Ivonna had always been curious—whenever they were alone, Rudolf would take out his watch to check the time.

  Now, as his arm reached around her neck, she finally saw what was inside. The inner lid of the watch housed a crystal, and within the crystal—a moving image.

  Rudolf pointed in a direction, signaling Ivonna to flee that way.

  Even in human form, Ivonna, as a Rank-1 werewolf, possessed far greater stamina than Rudolf. Following his guidance, she ran.

  They dashed into the forest, deeper and deeper.

  Ivonna was worried—this was werewolf territory. Not the best place to flee. But she trusted Rudolf and followed his lead.

  Then, an eerie sound emerged from the underbrush—something was lurking.

  Ivonna tensed, but Rudolf, oddly enough, seemed relieved.

  Soon, shadows appeared in the distance. A group of figures stood motionless among the trees, waiting for them.

  "Cooper!"

  Rudolf called out the name.

  The figures parted. A small child stepped forward, his face painted with glowing grease paint in the pattern of a clown. The luminescent grin was frozen in a twisted smile.

  "Disgusting officer, hello."

  Cooper removed his hat and gave a polite bow.

  "There are werewolves and knights fighting ahead. You should run. I came to bring you this information, so you can wait until later to collect the corpses."

  Of course, Rudolf had an ulterior motive—having Cooper around was an extra layer of insurance. In a critical moment, he might prove useful.

  "Consider this a friendly warning," Rudolf said.

  But Cooper shook his head and put his hat back on.

  "I'm here to kill werewolves. Goodbye, disgusting officer."

  "But there’s a Rank-2 werewolf in there," Rudolf reminded him.

  Cooper didn’t care.

  "I smell corpses. That Rank-2 Apostle is already on the brink of death."

  "On the brink of death?"

  Rudolf sniffed the air—he smelled nothing.

  Cooper led the way. Behind him followed an entourage of corpses.

  Rudolf recognized Captain Seco, though his head was now sewn onto the body of a Rank-1 werewolf.

  A werewolf with a human head—a grotesque sight. Yet Seco remained close behind Cooper, seemingly devoted.

  Alongside them were two more Rank-1 werewolves. Though undead were weaker than in life, they still formed a formidable force.

  Then came five wolf thralls—Cooper’s recent spoils from the wilderness.

  A lion. A tiger. They trailed behind a gutted beastmaster.

  A juggler, tossing bottles in eerie repetition…

  The nightmarish circus drifted into the distance.

  Rudolf gestured for Ivonna to put him down.

  "Ivonna, go now. If the Rank-2 werewolf is really dying… this could be your chance."