The Invincible Full-Moon System Chapter 1844: Protect the Silverstars (2)

Sven stands as the illegitimate offspring of the origin.

Despite being a direct descendant of the origin, the rest of the werewolves regard him with disdain.

As if he's some kind of pariah.

No one from the Silverstars truly understands the root cause, yet one fact remains undeniable: Sven despises the origin and might even harbor resentment toward fellow werewolves on account of it. His loathing shines through plainly for everyone to witness.

Nevertheless, he remains a werewolf at heart.

He can't stand by while members of his own kind get massacred without mercy.

Should he desire otherwise, he wouldn't have chosen solitude away from the pack, dwelling beyond the borders of the Scarlet Banes Kingdom. Had that been his wish, he could have simply devastated the whole realm and instilled terror in them all.

Yet he refrained from such actions.

ROAR—!

With incredible velocity, Sven soared across the heavens.

His enormous build doesn't imply any lack of swiftness.

Actually, his pace rivals that of Princess Selene, who surpasses other royals in quickness.

Sven slammed into the frontier and instantly dove into a ferocious melee with multiple Godlings. He operated like a relentless slayer, slicing through bodies with his razor-like claws, drenching himself in gushing blood, and growing fiercer with every injury he endured.

However, the Godlings proved no easy foes.

One slashed across Sven's visage, hurling him back a few paces. Next, it dissolved into a bloody vapor—and rematerialized at his rear before his third stride, clawing once more and spraying blood upward like a geyser.

Yet another seized Sven by the tail, hoisted him aloft, and smashed him down onto the terrain.

A whole cliffside disintegrated from the savage collision, the shockwave rippling outward like brutal thunder through the soil, carving out wide, twisting cracks. Sven himself—impaled into the ground and plummeting into a shadowy cave hundreds of meters underground.

He bounced back with astonishing rapidity and sprang toward the roof, evading three assaults in total.

Illumination flared within the gloom as he collided head-on with over a dozen Godlings.

A rapid barrage of clashes unfolded in moments. Claw strikes met claw strikes, igniting sparks. Agonized snarls and the sinister splatter of blood resounded through the cavern. Every Godling possessed power that could match the world's monarchs and queens.

Limited by the planet's energy constraints.

Yet Sven held the clear advantage over them.

He battled a dozen at once and dominated the fray.

Crash—!

Four Godlings got hurled against the cavern wall.

Sven parried a slashing attack, plunged his talons into a Godling's abdomen with ruthless accuracy, and yanked out its guts. He took two blows to his flank and arm, despite ample opportunity to evade, then seized the assailant by the cranium.

He smashed one Godling's head into the wall and another's into the floor, before savagely hauling them along the cave's length.

Like discarding refuse, he flung one aside and gnawed on the other's cranium.

Terrifying cracks of bone reverberated as his robust, keen teeth pulverized the skull.

Swoosh—!

Simultaneously, three crimson mists lunged at him from different angles.

Sven's gaze ignited with vast moonlight power, and with a bellow, he released a surge that repelled them all and lodged them into the far walls. From beneath, a Godling emerged and skewered him via its chest with a bladed limb.

Both burst through the ceiling and resurfaced above ground.

All eyes snapped back to the spectacle.

The brutal showdown between Sven and the Godlings had everyone entranced.

Sven embodies the purest essence of a werewolf. He relies on no elaborate techniques. He makes no effort to avoid assaults. Only sheer brute force, fury, teeth, and talons. To the other werewolves, this display proved utterly captivating.

Wild energy whirled around him, and his form responded in kind.

Sven already stands apart from typical werewolves. He's much larger, snowy-furred, and seems incapable of forming proper sentences. But the distinctions run much deeper. The very core of his being differs.

For him, rage and animosity don't merely boost his might like in regular werewolves.

They reshape his physique into a more savage iteration.

In full view of the onlookers, Sven's frame expanded, bulged, mutated in unnatural ways. It began with his heated exhalation now forming vapor. His ears stretched longer, their ends trailing wisps of smoke and pale flames.

At his back, his tail bulked up into a powerful coil. Resembling that of a gigantic serpent.

A bizarre metamorphosis, and his presence intensified threefold in an instant.

He represents the pinnacle of werewolf ferocity, driven to its utmost limits.

His resilience to change stands unmatched due to this evolving shape.

Sensing the constriction around its bladed arm, the Godling felt startled. It attempted to dissolve into blood mist for escape, but the aura enveloping Sven's body prevented it. The aura forced it to stay corporeal. Forced it to remain pinned.

Sven drove his knee upward into the Godling's bladed arm from below, breaking it clean.

Next, he gripped his fists and pounded down from above, driving it plummeting.

CRASH—!

Structures, foliage, and the ground exploded on collision.

Sven's form abruptly gained weight as he descended to the earth like a plummeting weight.

He clutched the Godling by the neck and hoisted it off the soil like a hunk of flesh. It struggled wildly, but couldn't match Sven's newfound, vastly amplified strength. Fixing his stare on his quarry, serene as nature's endless wheel, he thrust his claws into the Godling's torso and rent it asunder.

A savage snarl tore from his maw as he slew the Godling.

No matter the divine adversaries he confronted, his demeanor stayed unchanged.

His werewolf spirit remained steadfast.

By himself, Sven drew the focus of a third of the Godlings.

"Adhara... Did you manage to hold off him and Laykard?" Evelyn inquired breathlessly.

"Don't give me all the praise," She replied with a sharp grin. "I believe he's restraining himself considerably against me."

Sven hadn't displayed such prowess during her clash with him.

Evidently, Sven doesn't consider her a true foe; otherwise, Adhara wouldn't have survived.

Aoouuu—!

Both turned toward the undefended flanks and spotted the leftover Godlings advancing. They started with a trot, then crouched low and accelerated into a thunderous charge toward Evelyn and her allies' position.

Kaiser summoned blood and demise, and they aimed to fulfill it.

"Blood for the Blood Garland!!"

A thunderous shout pierced the atmosphere, sending icy dread into hearts.

Confronting the southeast stood Laykard and Mavok, while Valkis and Fenrik faced the southwest.

Trailing them, the Alpha Primes advanced as werewolves bayed and snarled. Despite recent hostilities among some, they now aligned unitedly to carve a defensive breach safeguarding the vital leaders.

Even at the price of their own lives.

Adhara and Gistella shared a knowing nod.

They would spearhead the defense against the approaching Godlings.

Until Rex's return, resistance must continue.

Adhara joined Valkis and Fenrik, whereas Gistella paired with Laykard and Mavok to build synergy.

Princess Selene served as the core commander, repelling any Godlings that breached the lines—with Evelyn stationed directly behind her. She bore the duty of shielding this force's nucleus. As long as Evelyn endured, spirits would endure.

"Sintra!"

Miriam ascended into the air.

Her whole frame glistened with a radiant silver glow.

Her eyes had altered too—shining like paired full moons of pearl. A Shama could sway the tide of conflicts—like this one. And with dual Shamans in their ranks, they refused to let the forces meet the Godlings on unequal terms.

'Here goes nothing...'

Sintra directed a finger toward the ominous Blood Moon overhead.

Her fingertip shone with a silvery, see-through orb, which she employed to etch a full moon upon her brow. It vibrated briefly before solidifying. Then, she extended her palms and unleashed all her power toward Miriam.

Swish—!

"Rrrghk!"

A strained noise slipped from Miriam's mouth as power surged into her.

It seemed her form teetered on the verge of bursting.

Yet Miriam's expertise and veteran savvy kept her from faltering. She directed the amassed energy into her limbs and thoughts with fluid precision—then dove earthward, palms striking the soil. "Twin War Spell: Sacred Hunting Ground of Kings!"

SWOOSH—!

Silver radiance burst from Miriam's hands and engulfed the valley instantly.

Its intense glare overwhelmed the area for several moments, blinding all.

When it faded, the earth underfoot had become glassy, transparent and shining, revealing myriad silver energy threads throbbing beneath. Next, the power rose like vapor, attracted to the stunned werewolves rooted in place.

Gradually, the energy latched onto each—ascending limbs, wrapping bodies, and ultimately resting on brows.

Not even the frailest Delta escaped this boon, as the glow inscribed its symbol into flesh.

A Full Moon. Vivid silver. Almost mirroring a King Mark.

And akin to bearing a King Mark, their presences expanded. Strength coursed into unaccustomed muscles. Sintra's boon flowed through every wolf, from humblest to mightiest.

Even non-werewolves gained from this War Spell.

Adhara gazed at the fresh vigor within her and shook her head in awe, "Such a potent spell."

But the War Spell extended beyond that.

From every emblem sprang the connection.

It struck them collectively—a sensation lingering in each consciousness and a beat resonating in every chest. A mystical, mental bond united them. Countless hearts synced in rhythm. Countless thoughts merged like a collective intellect. Countless perceptions overlapped simultaneously.

A grand cohesion.

Now, they shared a singular resolve.

Now, they pursued one goal.

Defend the Silverstars.

And with savage determination in their psyches and a murderous rumble in their voices, the host surged forward.

Miriam stumbled rearward as the soil quaked under the stampede of thousands. Dizziness gripped her now, balance lost. But as her posture swayed and threatened to collapse, strong arms steadied her from behind.

It was Princess Selene.

"You've been the key to so many victories for our kind," She commended warmly.

Miriam mirrored the smile, though faintly. The war spell had drained her utterly, "I pray this day joins those triumphs."

Rearward, Evelyn also touched Sintra's shoulder.

Like Miriam, her reserves were spent, and she heaved for breath.

"Well done,"

"It's insufficient still. Had I foreseen this, I would've..."

"Stop worrying over impossibilities. No one anticipated clashing with Gods and Godlings in this manner. Recover and restore your strength," Evelyn gradually lifted her gaze to the heavens, staring at the pair of celestial entities observing from on high.

She locked eyes with Meloriana, who regarded her with a mocking grin.

Kaiser also glanced her way, but his expression remained impassive.

Just the visage of an unyielding stone pillar, impervious to any event.

"I sense we'll require your abilities once more," Evelyn continued—chest constricting at the looming threats. "I suspect those two won't halt here."