The Invincible Full-Moon System Chapter 1784: Might of the Opposing Force

Adhara launched her spirit toward the wall of fog, spreading her arms wide to the sides.

A violet fulmination erupted next.

She breached the entrance to the enemy stronghold, unlocking the gateway to dismantle the rebellion once and for all.

Before the purple radiance could fade alongside the mist, Adhara commanded her Flames of Jealousy to spiral around her limbs before retracting into her core. In this conflict, her duty as the Female Alpha was singular: she must lead the vanguard.

With that purpose, she stepped forward.

Her muscles expanded and shifted, her skin becoming saturated with white strands—a complete transformation.

She assumed a form that no werewolf dared to look upon directly.

The Anti-Werewolf.

The most dreaded bloodline in the chronicles of werewolf history.

A lineage that served as the tangible manifestation and direct mirror of the White Omicron.

Adhara halted fifty meters from the dissipating fog, pacing along its boundary. Her luminous white eyes scanned through the vapor like a hawk. Fear was absent from her heart. Even knowing the horrors lurking behind the shroud, she remained unshaken.

Only one obstacle remained to soothe Rex’s heart and claim his validation.

She hungered for those rewards.

But for the foes who would soon face her on the field, she was nothing short of unhinged.

Roar—!

A thunderous cry burst from her throat, releasing a sonic wave that shredded the remaining mist, scattering it like smoke in a hurricane. Embedded in that wave was her debilitating energy—lethal to her own kind—which rippled across the square until it collided with an invisible barrier.

A massive, metallic ring echoed, vibrating the cobblestones beneath them.

"It seems we may have slightly underestimated them," Gistella murmured.

She began channeling death energy and moonlight energy into her black heart, bracing for a brutal struggle.

"Yes, we did," Evelyn agreed from the rear. "This exceeds my expectations."

For a fleeting moment, as time seemed to stop, the Great Army and its leaders held their collective breath. As the atmosphere cleared, they finally laid eyes on the opposing force—those who remained stubbornly loyal to the narcissistic princess.

Predictably, the main square was choked by a tide of fur and rage.

The nearly-formed Blood Moon loomed above like a bloated, crimson eye, bathing the scene in a gory light. It was a shifting sea of muscle and bristling fur. Thousands of them—matching the Great Army in scale—stood with massive shoulders, thick necks, and sharpened claws ready for battle.

They weren't arranged in traditional military ranks.

However, it wasn't chaotic; it was calculated.

Every individual was positioned with the precise intent of slaughter.

Snarls filled the air, creating a grating symphony of promised carnage. Fangs capable of crushing stone shimmered in the eerie light. Primal eyes of various colors burned with a cold, focused intelligence aimed solely at violence. Every chest heaved with steaming, hot breath.

The collective fury of the mob rose into the freezing air like a heatwave.

A quick assessment revealed at least thirty-five Alpha Primes within their ranks.

This was a daunting figure compared to the twenty-seven Alpha Primes serving the Great Army.

To their surprise, werewolves were not the only entities present.

Evelyn scanned the flanks, noticing several collared, wolf-like beasts.

Each creature possessed three heads with distinct personalities, three chaotic tails, and a single horn resembling a unicorn's atop each head. Their auras suggested they were all at the eighth-rank realm.

They were formidable for war beasts, and there were at least a hundred of them.

"I can't believe there are a hundred Haitis," Fenrik whispered in shock, eyeing the three-headed wolves. "I assumed they went extinct after the last war. To think this many still exist..."

"What exactly are they?" Evelyn inquired, turning to look at him.

In this tense standoff, she needed to gauge the Great Army’s survival rate. She was unfamiliar with these creatures, though the older werewolves clearly recognized them.

"Bio-engineered test subjects bred as weapons of war," Fenrik clarified. "As their strange anatomy suggests, each has three lives. Their core body grows more powerful with every death. The red variants are physically bound to a group of black Haitis. When a black one falls, its power is funneled directly into the red one, making it exponentially more dangerous."

Hearing of their traits caused Evelyn to scowl.

She had never encountered such monsters in her life. There had been no records of their survival, as most recent wars were fought strictly by werewolves. It seemed that since this was their final stand, the enemy was revealing every hidden trump card.

Evelyn realized she had to be ready for any anomaly.

"And what about those?" she asked, pointing further.

Beside the wolves were strange, raven-like birds. These were even rarer than the Haitis; only a select few werewolves, primarily those near the Alpha Primes, kept them. The birds sat like jagged, living armor on their masters' shoulders, their beaks as sharp as needles.

"How is this possible...?" Valkis’ eyes widened in disbelief. "Those are Danger Blood Ravens!"

"Lower your voice..." Evelyn ordered sharply.

She wanted information, but she didn't want the enemy to see their intimidation.

"My apologies," Valkis said, shaking his head to regain his focus. "Danger Blood Ravens are ancient mutations, and they are... unique. They lack our werewolf senses, but they possess an incredible sixth sense and extreme speed. That is why ancient werewolves bred them for combat."

"A sixth sense...?" Evelyn muttered, her brow furrowing. It sounded like a major complication.

"Furthermore, they consume blood to produce a highly concentrated venom. If injected into a werewolf, it can double or triple their physical strength," Valkis added, his teeth clenched in fury at Princess Selene's deception. "They are parasites that exploit our natural regeneration."

In the past, discovering these ravens was considered a divine gift from the Lunirich Gods. They were mutated animals perfectly compatible with the werewolf physiology. Because werewolves can survive extreme trauma, they can endure the raven’s toxins. Other species would be paralyzed and die, but a werewolf’s body utilizes the venom as a stimulant to remove the brain's physical limiters. They were essential tools during the ancient wars against vampires and demons.

Crash—!

A figure slammed into the ground opposite Adhara.

Dust obscured the newcomer, but from the silhouette alone, Adhara sensed immense power. The figure was massive, standing at least eight feet tall.

Grr...

From the haze, the only visible features were the Wolf Moon King Mark and glowing orange eyes. Even standing before the Anti-Werewolf, the creature showed no fear or signs of being suppressed.

Adhara tilted her head while studying the shadow.

She let out a growl, baiting the enemy to strike.

Swoosh—!

The werewolf lunged from the smoke the moment she finished her growl.

Adhara saw only a dark blur, but she refused to be intimidated. Moving with predatory grace, her body seemed to phase through reality as claws tore through the empty air where her head had just been.

Startled, the werewolf spun around, only to be met by Adhara’s blinding white gaze.

A flood of white energy surged forward.

No werewolf could withstand direct contact with her power, especially with her current level of Cultivation.

'This is it!'

Swish—!

Relentless, Adhara moved like a white specter—the harbinger of doom for all werewolves. She dived under the werewolf’s reach, setting her claws in a low position before driving them into its ribs.

However, her strike was caught mid-air by the werewolf’s bare hand.

Adhara’s eyes widened in surprise.

She watched as the werewolf’s palm sizzled and burned upon contact with her claws, yet its regeneration was unnaturally fast. The flesh healed almost instantly, preventing the damage from spreading beyond its fingers.

Adhara had never encountered this before. Usually, werewolves collapsed under her aura, but this stranger possessed a terrifying level of recovery.

Refusing to let surprise slow her down during a war, Adhara grabbed the enemy's arm and scrambled up its chest like a beast. she slammed her heels into its sternum, launching herself back in a powerful flip. Despite the creature's rock-hard body, the impact forced it back several paces.

Landing in a crouch, she immediately charged again.

She closed the gap before it could recover its footing.

Slash—!

Her strikes bypassed its guard and tore into its chest, knocking it ten steps back toward its own army.

Bloody, intersecting claw marks marred its torso.

"Aggressive. Fast," the werewolf rasped in a voice so hoarse it sounded eroded by millennia of use. "Your fury resonates in every blow, child. It is a shame... the white ghost has placed a curse upon you."

Adhara stood tall, staring in silent amazement.

This werewolf was unlike any she had ever seen. It was incredibly ancient, with a distinct appearance.

Its frame was covered in flowing, ash-silver fur that billowed like smoke. A massive, long tail trailed behind it, dissolving into wisps of moonlight energy that vanished and reappeared with every motion, giving it a ghostly aura. Its mane was as thick and wild as a lion's.

Its limbs were abnormally long, granting it a staggering reach. Curved, dark claws dug into the earth, while old scars covered its body—the marks of a veteran who knew only the Dao of war. The mere presence of this warrior put immense pressure on the Great Army.

Adhara felt it too. Her brow deepened as she saw the wounds she had just inflicted heal with the sound of crackling embers.

"Oh, no..." Mavok cursed, his expression darkening. "It’s Laynkard."

"Laynkard?!" Valkis’ eyes nearly popped out of his head. "One of the Night’s Triarchy?!"

He gazed at the werewolf facing Adhara with pure terror.

"Who?" Fenrik asked, unfamiliar with the name. "Who is Laynkard?"

"An ancient guardian of the Blood Moon Prince," Valkis explained, his face pale with dread. "He is a first-generation werewolf and a member of the Night’s Triarchy—the three royal protectors."

"Night’s Triarchy?"

"They are three elite guardians tasked with protecting the Blood Moon Prince. Because the Prince was so volatile, most members died at his own hands and were replaced. But over thousands of years, Laynkard survived."

Valkis trembled as he recalled the legends.

"He was the one who could restrain the Blood Moon Prince while protecting him. This monster has slain a Vampire Duke, hunted five high-ranking Death Knights simultaneously, and fought an Archdemon empowered by a Sin to a draw..."

Evelyn looked back at the Great Army after hearing this. She noticed that the Alpha Primes shared Valkis’ terror. Only those ignorant of the history looked calm. Those who knew the name were visibly shaking.

"Stay calm," Evelyn said, folding her hands gracefully over her stomach. "Adhara can deal with him."