My Werewolf System

Chapter 1540: The Special Scent

All forms of magic were being unleashed on the three of them, a storm of elements raining down endlessly. Beneath their feet, a glowing magic circle pulsed with power, trapping them in place. Every second, new waves of pressure pressed down on their bodies, the constant bombardment of spells weighing heavily against their skin. Even if Gary and the others tried to transform, the relentless energy was disrupting them, forcing their bodies back before the change could complete.

If we were at full strength, these spells would be nothing but a tickle! Kai thought bitterly. Frustration surged through him, fur sprouting along his arm. But the moment lightning crashed against him, the change faltered, his body snapping back slightly.

“We were betrayed!” Lupus roared, his voice carrying over the storm of magic. He gritted his teeth, muscles straining as the circle tried to force him down.

It was obvious to all of them now. Glen, along with every adventurer from the guild, had turned on them. They had been led here under false pretenses, dragged beneath the town to this secluded place, only to be bound and attacked without warning.

Gary’s thoughts from before echoed in his mind. People didn’t care that they were Werewolves. That much was clear. But then why go through the trouble of luring them all the way here? Why drag them into the open, when they could have just been cut down back at the town?

“Why... are you doing this?” Gary managed to grunt out through clenched teeth, his body twitching under the crushing spells.

“Haha!” Glen’s mocking laugh rang out. He stood outside the circle, surrounded by the other adventurers who kept their spells steady. His grin was wide, his eyes sharp with cruelty. “Were you raised in some remote village on the outskirts, far away from civilization? Or maybe it’s the opposite, you’ve lived such privileged lives that you don’t even know how the world works!”

He took a step forward, his staff glowing faintly as more magic crackled around him. “That must be it. Werewolves raised by nobles somewhere, relying only on your strength and your freakish power. Your bodies are strong, yes, maybe even impossible for us to overpower in a direct fight. But magic, ” Glen’s grin widened, teeth bared, " magic is the greatest weapon we have. With preparation, with time, there’s no beast we cannot bring to its knees. And trust me, we had plenty of time to prepare.”

The laughter spilled out of him, bitter and triumphant. Around him, the adventurers began to gather more energy into their weapons, swords glowed faintly, shimmering with enchantments, staffs pulsed as runes lined their surfaces, and wands hummed with latent spells. Their intent was clear: they were preparing to finish it.

“There are people out there who would pay handsomely to experiment on Werewolf bodies,” Glen went on, his voice dripping with greed. “To tear you apart, to find out what makes you different. If you really want to know why, then here’s your answer, it’s because of how much coin you’re worth!”

As Glen laughed, his voice echoing off the mountain air, something shifted. His smile faltered, just for a moment. Because in the circle, where all three Werewolves were being crushed, one of them was moving.

The large, muscular man with scruffy black hair that fell past his shoulders was pushing forward. His teeth were bared, his lips curled in a snarl, eyes burning with feral intensity. Step by step, Lupus advanced.

“No... no way,” one of the adventurers whispered.

A fire spell shot out, blazing across the air toward him. Lupus raised his arm, taking the strike head-on. Flames scorched his skin, leaving burns and torn flesh, blood trickling from the wound. But he didn’t even flinch.

His voice was a growl. “Now let me tell you something.” Another step forward. The circle strained, sparks of energy bursting around his body. “I’m going to eat your entire body...” His grin turned savage. “...and no one will even know you’re dead.”

“Attack him!” Glen shouted, panic breaking through his confident mask.

Dozens of spells rained down on Lupus. Smoke filled the circle, explosions shaking the ground. Light, flame, wind, and earth struck him again and again. For a moment, the others couldn’t even see him.

When the smoke finally thinned, Lupus was there. His body battered, his skin torn and bleeding, but he stood at the edge of the circle. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling with sheer determination.

How much strength does Lupus have? Gary thought, stunned. We’re all suppressed here... so is he pushing through this purely on willpower?

The spells had hurt him. His skin was charred in places, his body screaming from the damage. But despite it all, he had broken through. He had forced himself out of the magic circle.

“You messed with the wrong person!” Lupus growled.

The swordsmen were the first to charge, their weapons glowing with enchantments. They swung down at him in unison. Lupus tried to move, but even after breaking the circle, the toll was clear on his body. His power was suppressed, and every movement felt like it was through mud.

The first sword came from above, ready to cleave him in half. But before it could strike, someone landed in front of him. A hand shot up, knocking the blade to the side with practiced ease. The strike went wide, sparking harmlessly against the ground.

A leg followed, swift, powerful. The stranger kicked the adventurer straight in the stomach, the impact slamming against his armor and sending him tumbling backward.

“Looks like I managed to make it in time,” the man said, his voice calm yet edged with strength. He glanced over his shoulder at Lupus, a faint smile on his lips. “Seems that innkeeper was right.”

He turned fully now, his figure revealed to the three trapped Werewolves. His short brown hair was streaked with gray, his frame muscular and solid despite his age. He looked to be in his fifties, a veteran of countless battles. But the most striking feature was the scar across his face, a deep mark running from the top of his eye down to his lip.

“You should be able to tell, right?” the man said, his tone steady. “I’m here to help.”

At first, they didn’t understand what he meant. Then their noses twitched. Their instincts picked up what their ears hadn’t yet processed.

The scent told them everything.

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