My Werewolf System

Chapter 1493: The Shield of Blood and Horns

There were many troublesome enemies among the Lupus forces, but Austin had been given one of the most dangerous of them all, Broodie, a warrior whose strength rivaled that of any Ironfang.

Unlike the others, who had paired up to split their opponents, Austin had fought alone. Perhaps that was why he had decided he was the one who needed to push forward, to cut through the chaos himself.

The question gnawed at him now: What do I do next?

He looked around. The Altereds were struggling. Against Werewolves clad in beast gear, their efforts looked almost pitiful. Each Altered gave everything they had, but the clawed monsters simply refused to fall. For every blow they suffered, they returned two more with feral determination.

Austin’s jaw tightened. He knew that every opponent his allies faced was enough to put them on the back foot, and the battlefield itself was turning grim.

Then his eyes lifted toward the restaurant, the Howlers’ stronghold, the place where dozens of his people had been defending against wave after wave. A body suddenly crashed through a second-floor window, slamming into the ground with a sickening thud. A regular human. Their chest no longer rose.

A cold finality struck Austin’s heart.

“...Looks like I’ve made my decision.”

His eyes fell back on Broodie, who lay defeated nearby. The former Ironfang still clutched the handle of his shattered shield. Austin was sure he had destroyed it, had heard the crack when it split apart, but Broodie’s grip never loosened.

“They’re all using beast gear...” Austin muttered under his breath. He bent down and pried the handle from Broodie’s hand. The metal was strangely heavy, thrumming faintly with a pulse of energy. He didn’t know what it could still do, but something told him it wasn’t ordinary. With no space to store it, he simply carried it in one hand.

There was no more time to waste.

Horns glowing faintly, Austin ripped a portal open and charged through, thrusting himself forward as quickly as possible. His goal was clear now.

I have to trust that the others can do their part. If I stop here, if I doubt them now, we’ll all fall.

He emerged just outside the restaurant’s entrance, slamming his hooved feet into the ground to stop short so he wouldn’t crash into his allies inside. With a snort of steam, he lowered his head and charged, breaking through the front doors in an eruption of splintered wood and dust.

The moment he stepped in, chaos engulfed him. Screams. Claws scraping against tables. The clash of metal on flesh.

A Werewolf, hunched over one of the Howlers, had its fangs buried deep in the man’s shoulder. The victim’s muffled cries filled the air. Austin didn’t hesitate. He stormed forward, ripped the beast up by the scruff of its neck, and slammed it into the ground with bone-shattering force. Before it could recover, his fist, reinforced by the horns coiled around his forearm, plunged straight down. The jagged tip pierced through the Werewolf’s skull. Its body went limp instantly.

Another set of claws hooked around his throat from behind. A second Werewolf had leapt onto his back, trying to tear into him. Its fangs snapped, but Austin’s horns jutted out too far, blocking its jaws from reaching his neck. Growling, he grabbed the beast by its arm and hurled it over his shoulder, sending it crashing to the floor.

But there was no time to finish it. A third opponent was already upon him.

Austin turned just in time to see the slash aimed at his ribs. He met it with a perfectly timed punch, his horn-wrapped fist cracking across the Werewolf’s jaw and sending it skidding across the floorboards.

He spun, expecting the first one to be back on its feet. Instead, he froze.

Blood sprayed into the air from the Werewolf’s throat, cut open by something invisible. The crimson droplets splattered against an unseen figure, and then the shimmer of a blade became visible.

An Anti-Altered sword.

The figure materialized, mask covering his face.

“Sorry,” Kevin’s voice came through, calm but strained. “I’m trying to help as best I can. It’s a good thing you’re here, it’s hard for all of us to keep up with this many Werewolves.”

Austin blinked. Kevin. The boy wore Ghost’s beast-gear mask and clutched a scavenged Anti-Altered weapon. Somehow, he was still alive, still fighting, and putting both tools to deadly use.

Before Austin could respond, a thunderous crash shook the entire restaurant.

Screams erupted above them, followed by snapping wood. Midwak burst through the second-floor balcony, two Werewolves dangling from his massive hands. Their skulls slammed into the ground with a sound like cracking melons, silencing them forever.

Midwak stood amidst the wreckage, chest heaving, blood streaking across his arms. He looked like a monster himself, muscles taut, eyes burning. He had taken hit after hit, but consuming an Ironfang’s core earlier had left him brimming with raw power, even if he couldn’t fully transform.

The sight was enough to distract Austin for a heartbeat too long.

A swipe came at his side. He raised his forearm in reflex,

CLANG!

Austin’s eyes widened. Instead of blood, there was metal. A shield.

He glanced down, realizing the handle he had been carrying had finally responded. A round shield had formed over his arm, gleaming with unnatural sharpness along its rim.

Out of instinct, he swung it. The razor edge hummed to life, slicing cleanly through the neck of the attacking Werewolf. Its head dropped to the floor, rolling across the blood-soaked boards.

Austin stared at the shield in awe, then let out a breathless laugh. “This... is more useful than I thought.”

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