Chapter 187: The Executioner Fights For His Life, Riven Learns The Truth About His Brother

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The werewolf claws rushed against him without mercy, slashing deep into his back and tearing through muscle. Vladimir hissed in pain and spun around, releasing a concentrated beam of death energy that blasted the head of one attacker and sent the creature crashing hard through several trees.

"You bastards, what’s gotten into you?! You weren’t like this! You really are going to obey that rich playboy that appeared out of nowhere?!"

"SILENCE, HERETIC!"

"HOW DARE YOUUUUUU!"

As they roared, their auras exploded outward in waves of chaotic energy. These two had originally been C Rank Hunters. Both had joined the cult years ago after their parties were wiped out inside a Gate by overwhelming monsters. They had found shelter here, and with it a new purpose that once felt almost like family.

However, all of that shattered now. They had become mindless beasts chasing Vladimir with the single intent of eating him alive. Fenrir’s wicked, chaotic game was finally becoming clear to him in the most brutal way possible.

Nobody was spared from it. Everyone must suffer. Everyone must endure this agony!

"To think I would be forced to kill my comrades! Bastards!"

He roared back as he was kicked down and punched repeatedly. Grabbing a thick tree trunk, he swung it like a club against the black werewolf while kicking the female brown werewolf away with all his remaining strength.

He roared again, his black coat turning slightly red as a small black horn pushed out from his forehead. He leaped toward the biggest of the two, and the pair locked together, biting each other’s shoulders and throats with their giant wolf jaws.

"GRRRRR!"

"GRAAARRR!"

Vladimir held the advantage for a moment, biting down hard on the werewolf’s jugular and making dark blood spray across the forest floor. Before he could finish the kill, the smaller female werewolf leaped onto his back and sank her fangs deep into his flesh, tearing out a large chunk.

"Aaaaarrggh!"

As he screamed in agony and loosened his grip, the male werewolf smashed his face into the ground with brutal force, making him lose half his teeth in the process. The heavier beast then began punching him while keeping him pinned, using his own massive weight to stop Vladimir from moving.

"Y-You bastards...!"

CRASH!

"Wake... up...!"

CRASH! CRASH!

"We’ve shared so many memories together...!"

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

"Don’t you remember... when we robbed that rich hunter and humiliated him?"

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

"Or when... we brought all the money to the orphanage... and made all the kids smile..."

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

As he bled and agonized under the relentless blows, he saw that his friends were truly gone. Only furious beasts remained, growling and drooling, their eyes bleeding uncontrollably. The faces he once knew had disappeared completely beneath the bestial rage.

He wondered for a brief, painful moment if their true selves were still somewhere deep down there, trapped and asking for help.

Perhaps... asking to be freed.

Vladimir cried for the first time in years.

Tears mixed with blood as his claws began glowing with rising power. The more blood he lost, the stronger the force inside him became.

Call of the Beast and Wild Berserker activated at the same time — his two strongest Skills. His stats skyrocketed the more damage he received, feeding on his own suffering.

And at death’s door, his power finally surpassed them both.

"Assassination Art – Blooming Blood Moon."

He moved forward in a blur, disappearing from sight and reappearing behind them both. Countless crimson slashes covered their entire bodies in an instant.

SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!

As their eyes widened, for a faint moment they seemed to regain a fragment of their former composure. Then they dropped to the ground, dying slowly as blood pooled beneath them.

"V-Vladi... mir..."

"W-Why...?"

He stared at them with one arm broken, his body covered in blood, half his face destroyed. Tears continued falling from his remaining good eye.

"I’m sorry..."

He walked away with unsteady steps, barely able to stay upright, and then ran as far as he could without stopping. The dark forest slowly brightened as the sun began to rise on the horizon.

It was already the morning of the next day when he finally crawled back to Riven’s house, covered in blood from head to toe.

"Ri... R-Riven...!"

Riven slowly opened his eyes, sensing Vladimir’s presence calling for him through the early morning quiet.

He leaped out of bed and quickly ran out of the house and found Vladimir collapsing on the floor, bleeding everywhere and barely conscious.

The grass underneath was stained with pools of blood everywhere, the young man was barely alive.

"Vladimir?! What the hell happened?!"

He immediately opened his storage bracelet and poured several high-ranked potions over the worst wounds, making the injured man groan in pain as the liquid began to work.

Vladimir slowly returned to his human form. He had known that shifting back earlier would have killed him — only a werewolf’s unnatural vitality had allowed him to survive the amount of damage he had taken.

"The Fenrir Cult..." he coughed up another mouthful of blood. "It has changed...! Riven...! Your brother...! Your brother, Mordred... he’s the cult leader...!"

"...What?"

Riven’s eyes widened as he sat there completely stunned after hearing such news.

"He’s gone completely batshit insane...! He turned everyone into bloodthirsty werewolves and made them eat people!" Vladimir screamed, his voice raw with desperation. "He’s... the True Vessel of Fenrir! Your brother!"

"..."

Riven had always known that his brother was an unforgivable piece of shit, but even he had never expected him to go this far.

This was the true source of Mordred’s power, and everything else that had followed.

In the future Riven had lived through, this truth was never revealed. Mordred had likely kept it all a secret even after the world came to an end.

But what could have prompted him to reveal his identity to his followers now? Or did this also happen, but his plan to lead the Fenrir Cult never came to fruition?

It wasn’t like he cared for his father nor wanted to protect him, but the amount of destruction an enormous pack of thousands of crazed werewolves would be catastrophic to the population.

And yet, he lacked the strength to stop him.

He needed to grow stronger, quickly.

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