However, just as the humans were organizing themselves, the monsters weren’t sitting idly either.
A piercing, feminine cry erupts through the battlefield, forcing the weaker soldiers to loosen their bladders to an embarrassing degree. Hmph! Cowards… Master would never piss himself no matter the gravity of the situation! I declare proudly.
The werewolf females, who had been fiercely arguing with their mates, have now shifted their focus entirely. A group of five women surround the lifeless body of a large male werewolf with fur bristling and eyes filled with tears. “Garrek…” They whisper his name in unison. He had been one of the stronger fighters from what I can remember. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
He was definitely high-level, as a monster’s size relative to other members of its species depends on their level. To put it simply, a giant werewolf is high-leveled, and a small one is low.
One of the women spits towards the corpse in a sorrowful tone, “Stupid cheater! You died while chasing after a random dog-kin bitch, and now look at you!” Her words might be sharp, but grief is evident in her spirit. She is mourning the loss of her loved one.
Another one of Garrek’s mates, a slightly older and more composed werewolf, growls in response. “Even if our husband couldn’t keep it between his legs, it’s still our duty to mete out revenge in his honor. He was our husband, and his murderers are now our sworn enemies… I refuse to leave until they are all dead!”
Understandable. Blossom would want to strangle the Goddess herself if Master died. No, Master Would never die and leave Blossom behind!
The others nod in agreement, their mourning quickly turning into a collective howl of vengeance. Soon, the battlefield is filled with similar sentiments as the 150 females and the remaining 30 males stop their infighting. Their grief, anger, and sense of duty unite them in a way that only deepened their already formidable pack bond.
Together, they turn towards the soldiers as their eyes burn with extreme, antagonistic hostility.
A vile, bloodlust-filled atmosphere settles over the battlefield as the werewolves prepare to unleash their overwhelming fury on the humans who dared to raise their weapons against their kin.
The soldiers on the other hand seem less organized by the second. They have about 50 members who can put up a fight against the stronger monsters, and 5 of those numbers can easily overpower any of them in a duel- perhaps save for the one super alpha of the pack. The other 100 or so soldiers that are still alive can only hope to fight the weakest of the creatures.
The man who had called for reinforcements moves to the front of the human forces, closely followed by the other four superhumans and takes up a battle stance facing the monster horde. He then shouts; “Soldiers of the Vraven Kingdom! Hear your commander!”
Some of the soldiers reluctantly turn their eyes to him, though most seem to ignore him at first. Fear and doubt flicker in their eyes, but then his voice cuts through the fog of despair like a lightning strike. Even the raging werewolves seem to momentarily pay heed to what he has to say despite their evident fury.
“You’ve committed grave crimes against our nation, crimes that have brought you here, to this remote outpost, far from the glory of war! Crimes against King Alexios and Queen Morgana, despite the sacred oath you swore during your initiation!” His words are harsh, echoing with the weight of severe judgment.
A low murmur ripples through the ranks, most saying something about them being innocent and wrongly accused.
“However! Despite your crimes, despite the dishonor you’ve brought upon yourselves and your family, redemption can still be earned! For the first time in a millennia, our station is under attack! Perhaps it was a sign from the Goddess herself that you deserve a second chance at life the way it was meant to be, not in shameful exile!”
The murmur grows louder as his words sink in. I can see a few determined gazes as they grab their weapons firmly in their hands and take up a combat-ready stance. It seems mentioning the Goddess has a profound effect on most humans. Blossom should tell Master… He could come up with such amazing plans using this knowledge that Blossom’s jaws would drop to the floor.
Though, Blossom isn’t sure if using the Goddess’ name to his advantage is something Master would be willing to do… NovelFire-your-story-source
“Aid is on its way, but it will take time for them to reach this remote location. Time we do not have if we don’t face this monster calamity together!”
The werewolves seem to have heard enough as they begin to close in, but Stormlord does not waver in the face of their menacing fangs and hostile growls.
“Any soldier who fights until the reinforcements arrive will be pardoned of their crimes! You will be allowed back into the army, your honor restored, and your place in the Vraven Kingdom secured!”
“But,” Stormlord’s voice turns cold as he delivers the ultimatum, “anyone who flees this battle, anyone who turns their back on their comrades in this great hour of need will not just face execution. Your families- your wives, parents, siblings, children- will be dragged to the public square and executed on a platform for all to see.”
A collective gasp runs through the ranks. Blossom isn’t sure such a threat fits into the motivational speech… I can’t help but comment. I must admit, watching this scene has gripped my attention very well. Blossom only wishes she had some chunks of meat left to enjoy alongside the show.
Blossom really wants to see what happens next… I murmur while dangling my legs on the tree branch back and forth enthusiastically.
“I, Stormlord, promise this based on the authority granted to me by his majesty, Alexios Valorian himself!” His voice crackles with power as the air around him shimmers with the elemental energy that he controls. “So choose now- fight and earn your redemption, or flee and condemn your entire bloodline to extermination!”
