ANOUNCEMENT!
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The forest fell into a terrifying silence.
Not the kind that came after battle.
Not the kind that followed victory.
This was different.
This was the kind of silence that came when something wrong entered the world.
Even the hunters stopped firing.
Even the wolves froze mid-motion.
Because the thing that had just landed in the clearing—
Was not something any of them had ever seen before.
Seven feet tall.
Massive shoulders that stretched unnaturally wide.
A body caught between man and wolf—but twisted, like something had forced the transformation and never bothered to perfect it.
Its fur was dark and matted, clumped together like it had been soaked and left to rot. Its claws were longer than any natural werewolf's—curved, jagged, and uneven, as if they had grown too fast for the flesh that held them.
And its jaw—
It opened just slightly too wide.
Revealing rows of fangs that didn't align properly.
Predatory.
Broken.
Wrong.
The creature inhaled deeply.
Its chest expanded with a sharp, jerking motion.
Then it howled.
The sound tore through the forest.
But it wasn't a howl.
Not really.
It was distorted—layered with something mechanical, something forced, like multiple voices screaming through one throat.
Unnatural.
Controlled.
One of the younger Betas whispered, his voice shaking.
"…What the hell is that?"
Derek's eyes narrowed, every instinct in his body screaming danger.
"I've heard rumors."
Laura stepped forward slightly, her claws sliding out with a metallic snikt.
"Hunting experiments," she said under her breath. "Captured wolves… turned into weapons."
Around them, even the hunters shifted uneasily.
Several took a step back.
Some lowered their weapons without realizing it.
Because whatever that thing was—
It wasn't entirely under control.
Only one man remained still.
Calm.
Watching.
From the ridge above the battlefield, Gerard Argent stood with his hands behind his back, observing the chaos like a man watching pieces move across a chessboard.
"Release successful," one of the hunters beside him reported.
Gerard gave a slow nod.
"Good."
Below—
The monster's glowing yellow eyes scanned the clearing.
Left.
Right.
Taking everything in.
The wolves.
The hunters.
The blood.
The fear.
Then—
It stopped.
Its head tilted slightly.
And its gaze locked onto Arthur.
Arthur blinked.
"…Why is it looking at me?"
The creature growled.
Low.
Deep.
Violent.
The sound vibrated through the ground itself.
Then—
It charged.
The earth exploded beneath its feet as it launched forward with terrifying speed, tearing through dirt and roots like they were nothing.
"ARTHUR MOVE!" Laura shouted.
But Arthur didn't move back.
He stepped forward.
The monster swung its massive claw downward, aiming to split him in half.
Arthur moved.
Not away.
Forward.
He slipped under the strike, his body flowing past the claw by inches, and drove his fist straight into the creature's ribs.
BOOM.
The impact echoed through the clearing like a shockwave.
The monster's body twisted from the force, skidding sideways nearly three meters before its claws dug into the ground and stopped its momentum.
Every hunter froze.
"…Did the kid just punch it?"
The creature snarled violently, saliva dripping from its twisted jaws.
Its muscles bulged as it lunged again.
Faster this time.
Sharper.
Arthur ducked the first swipe.
A second claw came from the side—faster than before.
Arthur leaned back just enough, the claws slicing through the air a hair's breadth from his face.
Then he grabbed its wrist.
And twisted.
CRACK.
The sound was loud.
Wrong.
The creature roared in pain.
But it didn't slow down.
It surged forward instead—
And slammed its head into Arthur's chest.
Arthur's body lifted off the ground from the impact.
He was launched backward, crashing through loose branches before slamming into a fallen tree.
The trunk splintered on impact.
"Arthur!" Laura shouted.
The creature didn't wait.
It charged again, claws raised for a killing blow.
But Arthur stood up.
Calmly.
Like nothing had happened.
He rolled his shoulder once, loosening it.
"…Okay."
He brushed dirt from his shirt.
"…that one actually hurt."
The creature lunged again.
Arthur stepped aside smoothly.
His knee drove upward into its stomach.
Then his elbow crashed into its jaw.
Then—
A straight punch into its throat.
Each strike landed clean.
Precise.
Controlled.
But something changed.
The creature adapted.
Its movements became sharper.
Faster.
Stronger.
Its muscles shifted under its skin, bulging unnaturally as it mirrored Arthur's rhythm.
Derek's eyes widened.
"It's learning."
Up on the ridge—
Gerard's lips curled slightly.
"The experiment is working."
Beside him, Kate Argent watched through her scope, her expression sharpening with interest.
"Still…" she murmured.
"That boy shouldn't be able to keep up with it."
Then—
It happened.
During the next exchange, the creature's claws finally connected.
They sliced across Arthur's forearm.
A deep gash opened instantly, blood spilling down his arm.
One of the hunters smirked.
"Finally."
But Arthur didn't react the way they expected.
He looked down at the wound.
Curious.
Not afraid.
Because something strange was happening.
The bleeding slowed.
Almost immediately.
The torn flesh began pulling itself back together.
Slowly.
But visibly.
Arthur blinked.
"…Oh."
Across the battlefield—
Derek saw it.
Laura saw it.
And on the ridge—
Gerard's expression changed for the first time.
He leaned forward slightly.
"…Impossible."
Kate lowered her rifle.
"What?"
Gerard didn't answer immediately.
His eyes were locked onto Arthur.
Analyzing.
Calculating.
"He tore reinforced silver," Gerard said slowly.
"He fought a controlled alpha-level beast."
"And now…"
His voice dropped.
"…his body is regenerating."
Something ancient stirred in his memory.
Old records.
Forgotten texts.
Forbidden archives buried beneath decades of secrecy.
A name surfaced.
A bloodline whispered only in caution.
Gerard's eyes widened slightly.
"…Corvinus."
Below—
Arthur flexed his arm.
The wound was already halfway closed.
"…Okay that's new," he muttered.
The creature roared again and charged.
Arthur exhaled.
"Fine."
He lowered his stance.
For the first time—
Something inside him shifted.
Awakened.
His muscles tightened—not with strain, but with alignment.
His senses sharpened.
Every sound became clearer.
Every movement slower.
His heartbeat steadied.
Slowed.
The world itself seemed to sharpen around him.
As if everything unnecessary had been stripped away.
Arthur smiled.
Slowly.
"Oh."
"…This might actually be fun."
The creature lunged again—
But this time—
Arthur saw everything.
The tension in its muscles.
The shift in its weight.
The exact moment it would strike.
And he moved.
Perfectly.
Above the battlefield—
Hidden within the shadows of the forest canopy—
A cloaked figure stood in silence.
Watching.
The Guardian.
The faint glow of the sigil on Guardian's hand pulsed once.
Then again.
Guardian's gaze remained fixed on Arthur.
Unblinking.
Calculating.
"…So it begins," Guardian murmured quietly.
Because what the figure was witnessing—
Was not just survival.
Not just strength.
It was awakening.
The blood of Corvinus had begun to stir.
Ancient.
Absolute.
Unchallenged.
And as the creature roared and charged once more—
The world, whether it knew it or not—
Was about to remember why the oldest records, written in fear and sealed in secrecy, had given them a name that had survived through ages.
A name spoken only in whispers.
A name that meant power beyond balance.
Beyond control.
Beyond extinction.
The Last Blood.