The Invincible Full-Moon System Chapter 1901 1901: Ignored and Desperate

Kyran rode with all his might.

His fierce gaze was locked onto the charging horde adjacent to him, his intention clear: to halt their advance.

The cacophony that reached his ears—the guttural growls of the horde, his own ragged breaths, the whistle of wind against his frame—all faded into a distant hum. Only one voice truly resonated within his mind.

It belonged to the one to whom he owed his very existence.

'I will beat you until you bleed for failing to safeguard Naela.'

The words Rex had spoken on the night Naela was nearly lost echoed in the confines of Kyran's thoughts.

'If such a thing ever transpires again, I pray Naela meets her end. And should she miraculously pull through once more—I myself will take her life. That way, her demise will be your doing, and you may drown in eternal regret.'

At that time, his sanity had fractured, leading him on a wild, uncontrolled rampage.

He had lost sight of what truly mattered, allowing the rage within him to consume his judgment.

This time, however, he was determined not to repeat his past error.

Naela might not comprehend his actions, perhaps she never would. Yet, Kyran was certain, without a shred of doubt, that returning to her side was the righteous path. Rex had exacted a vow of protection over Naela, and Kyran intended to honor it.

Irrespective of the ongoing war, her safety was his paramount concern.

This was the absolute truth Rex had ingrained within him.

Yet, that solitary promise was not the only one he had made to Rex.

Rex had imparted far more wisdom than just that one dictate.

'Excellent, this is good. That suffocating sensation serves as a stark reminder of the dire consequences of insufficient strength—do not seek to banish it, but rather, to internalize it. Learn to coexist with this feeling, so that the next time, you can foresee impending calamities before they manifest.'

During a period of profound calm, Rex had shared a fragment of his philosophy with Kyran.

A glimpse into the ruthless self-discipline Rex imposed upon himself whenever he faltered, no matter how minor the transgression.

Even the smallest misstep was met with severe introspection.

Furthermore, Rex's temporary departure from the Mortal Realm signified his trust in others, including Kyran, that they could mutually support one another during his absence. While Kyran's decision to check on Naela was sound, his obligations did not end there.

His choice, though correct, did not absolve him of the repercussions he had to face.

It did not mean he was immune to the pangs of guilt arising from the unfolding events.

This was especially true given Naela's current blame directed towards him.

During his absence, his companions had found themselves in grave peril, and he had been unable to offer aid. Now, he could no longer sense Evelyn. Gisitella was also beyond his perception. Only Adhara remained. His connections to the others had been severed—and his mind could only conjure the bleakest possibilities.

This was the price. This was the root of his gnawing guilt.

He could not rewind time to discover an alternative course of action, but he could dedicate all his might to repelling the horde.

If he had been too late to assist his comrades, he refused to be too late in protecting those within Dargena City.

Calidora.

Kyran was resolute in his stand against the horde, no matter the cost. Not a single strand of her hair would be tainted by their advance. He could not permit such an outcome. 'It cannot be me. It cannot be me who inflicts pain upon him again. I would sooner embrace death. I would rather perish than allow that to occur!'

Fully aware of the immense suffering Rex had endured for their sake, Kyran adamantly refused to be the source of his renewed anguish.

Swoosh—!

Approximately fifty thousand crimson wolves.

The majority were being contained and occupied by Flunra, with several thousand more held at bay by the united forces of Elves and Orcs. Yet, a formidable number still roamed free. A terrifying multitude. One that the entirety of the Clarentium Empire, at this present moment, could scarcely hope to contend with.

Each of these crimson wolves possessed considerable strength.

Even the weakest among them was not significantly inferior to Kyran, while the strongest far surpassed his current capabilities. But this did not signify despair. The situation was not yet irredeemable. His Devour ability would grant him a temporary surge in power, enabling him to confront the horde.

However, he first needed to consume a portion of them.

'Only a few to begin with. Just a handful before I can truly make a difference!'

Shing—!

An ice spike erupted from the ground, impaling a lone crimson wolf on its flank.

The creature remained stationary, neither swerving nor rotating away from the crystalline barrier.

Instead, the crimson wolf abruptly lowered its head and charged forward with unyielding momentum, shattering the ice spike into fragments.

Kyran's eyes sharpened as he conjured another ice spike. Just as the crimson wolf hurtled towards it once more, he sprang forward with intensified focus. He managed to ensnare the wolf's neck with his arm as it pulverized the ice spike, and yanked with all his might.

His objective was to isolate one wolf and dispatch it.

The ice spike served as a diversion, creating an opening for him to gain a favorable position and forcibly separate it from the main horde.

But the task proved to be far more arduous than anticipated.

'So powerful!' Kyran gritted his teeth, channeling every iota of strength within his being, yet this exertion barely caused the crimson wolf's head to budge. He poured in mana and moonlight energy—but it felt akin to trying to move a colossal boulder that had remained unmoved for millennia. 'Just one! Just a little more!'

Before he could steer it even a single meter off its intended path, the crimson wolf's body contorted with the ferocity of a thrashing alligator. It flung off Kyran's grasp as if he were nothing, then plunged its fangs deep into his left arm—all while still in fluid motion.

With a vicious snap of its head, the bone fractured, and Kyran was sent hurtling away as if insignificant.

Kyran tumbled across the ground, quickly regaining his footing.

His arm began to mend with remarkable speed, and he readied himself for another assault.

Unlike his prior failed endeavor, he had now targeted a lesser crimson wolf. The first must have been at least mid-tier, perhaps even a formidable specimen. Yet, this hunt proved even more disastrous. Before Kyran could even close the distance, the wolf was airborne, its skull connecting with his chest and propelling him backward.

The creature understood Kyran's intent and offered no quarter.

This time, Kyran's shoulder was dislocated; his arm hung uselessly as he struggled to maintain pace with the advancing horde.

Over the subsequent minute, he launched more than a dozen attempts.

Considering the Blood Moon's ascent and the amplified strength from his role as Beta Enforcer, especially with the horde still traversing the territory shared by the allied Elves and Orcs, he should have achieved at least one successful strike.

His might was indeed augmented tonight, after all.

However, not a single attempt yielded success.

Even when he assaulted a wounded crimson wolf, its flank seared as if scorched by Queen Shsnaela herself—he could not fell it. It was as if the entire horde had foreseen his every move.

They maneuvered the injured wolf deeper within their ranks, denying Kyran any viable target.

Kyran found himself utterly ignored.

His persistent assaults only resulted in him sustaining further injuries.

Soon, they would enter the domain of the Dwarves and Tigermen. The shift in landscape signaled this impending change.

Another significant stride for the horde's relentless march toward Dargena City.

A sense of desperation began to consume him.

Abandoning the strategy of isolating a single crimson wolf, Kyran opted for a direct confrontation, charging headlong into the horde. He unleashed a barrage of scorching icicles, then lunged forward, claws extended. This change in approach proved effective.

His eyes ignited with fierce determination the moment one wolf faltered, an icicle embedded in its hind leg.

Kyran instantly conjured an ice block, cleaving the injured wolf from the horde and dragging it away.

Even the horde couldn't react swiftly enough to intercept.

Witnessing one crimson wolf isolated filled Kyran with elation. This was the breakthrough he needed.

But then, unexpectedly, he lost his balance.

Before he could deliver the final, decisive blow, something seized his leg, pulling him back.

Kyran glanced down. Another crimson wolf had clamped onto his limb, its jaws tightening, the crunch of flesh and bone echoing his imminent agony. A pained hiss escaped his lips. The first crimson wolf, the one he had intended to fell, broke free and vanished back into the pack.

He shifted his focus to the wolf now gripping his leg.

"RAARGHK!"

Blood Moon energy flooded Kyran's being, igniting an overwhelming, untamed bloodlust.

The crimson wolf thrashed its head violently from side to side, then pulled with immense force, aiming to drag Kyran into the heart of the horde and ensure his demise. It was a strength few beings in the Mortal Realm could hope to endure, exacerbated by the excruciating, bone-shattering pain of its bite.

Kyran's mind was a vacant void.

Only the primal instinct to kill and consume remained.

It mattered not if the bloodlust consumed him entirely, for his resolve was set on halting the horde's advance.

Kyran made no attempt to break free.

Drawing upon primal strength and shadow-swift speed, he dropped to a knee, solidifying his core, anchoring himself like a steadfast oak, making it exceedingly difficult for the crimson wolf to drag him further. The wolf heaved and strained, but it soon realized its futile efforts to move him.

Like a looming shadow, Kyran towered over the crimson wolf.

His face contorted in a snarl, his body radiating an intense icy aura.

Kyran encircled the crimson wolf's neck with his arms, constricting with every ounce of his might. His muscles bulged, veins protruding like thick ropes beneath his skin as he exerted his full power. The tables turned instantly.

From prey moments ago, the crimson wolf was now the hunted.

It thrashed, desperate for escape, but a sharp, splintering crack echoed through the air, freezing it mid-struggle.

Its life extinguished in an instant.

Kyran snapped its neck, ending its existence swiftly.

However, there was no moment for reflection. No time for celebration of his hard-won victory.

He pulled his mangled leg free, only to find it nearly severed. The Blood Moon's energy hampered his regeneration, slowing it considerably. Kyran compelled himself to assume a position and began devouring the carcass. The taste was vile, akin to biting into ash.

It was predominantly blood, yet unlike any normal sanguine fluid.

Nevertheless, a surge of power coursed through him as Kyran's formidable constitution worked its marvels.

As Kyran tore into a mouthful of flesh, his body absorbed the strength, his gaze locked onto the receding horde. They were vanishing into the distance with alarming speed, and unless he moved soon, he'd be left behind, too far to ever catch up.

Suddenly, the thundering sound of hooves reached Kyran's ears.

He pivoted towards the noise, just in time to witness a scarlet wolf hurtling directly at him.

With a swift bite to his torso, the wolf sent him flying. Kyran slammed against the unforgiving ground, one arm ripped away, leaving him with only one functional limb and a leg. His other two limbs were in the process of regenerating, but far too slowly for the dire circumstances. He glanced back to where the carcass had been, but it was gone.

Nothing remained but a pool of blood, and the crimson wolf that had attacked him was already galloping away. Its sole purpose had been to disrupt Kyran and obliterate the carcass, denying him further sustenance.

"No...!" Kyran's remaining hand clenched into a tight fist. "No, no, no, no! Please!!"

He let out a guttural roar, a sound brimming with anguish and despair.

Yet, against the vastness of the world and the expanse of the battlefield, his cry was but a whisper, utterly insignificant.

In the distance, the muffled sounds of explosions echoed. The first snowflakes were beginning to fall, signaling that the horde had already descended upon the Dwarven lands. Following this would be the Dark Elves, and then Dargena City itself.

Kyran hauled himself to his feet and began to limp in the direction the horde had taken.

Blood had saturated his entire being, causing his dark fur to gleam with a slick, dark sheen.

"I can't stop..." he rasped, dragging himself forward, the pain having long since seared his nerves into a numb void. "I can't stop. I can't stop. I won't let them reach Dargena City. But how? How can I possibly stop them? I'm not Rex.

"I aspired to be like him, but I simply can't measure up."