Lord Of The Lost

The werewolf moved like a blur, leaping through the forest with powerful strides, each bound bringing it closer to the circle of hunters. Its intent was clear, to disrupt their formation and throw them into chaos.

But William was ready. He stood firm, his knight's spear lowered, the tip gleaming with deadly energy. He had been charging for this moment, his body humming with tension and power.

"[Piercing Attack]!!" William roared, his voice echoing through the forest as he thrust the spear forward with all his might. The air around the weapon cracked and exploded, the strike carrying the force of a thunderbolt. The spear blade cut through the air like a bolt of lightning, unstoppable and devastating.

The werewolf's predatory instincts screamed a warning, but it was already too late. It hadn't expected a warrior hidden among the hunters. Reflexively, it raised its claws, the only defense it had against the oncoming strike.

CLANG!

The sound of claws meeting the spear reverberated like an explosion, sharp and deafening enough to rattle eardrums. Sparks flew as the werewolf's powerful charge was brought to an abrupt halt. The beast staggered back, its claws bleeding and knuckles cracked from the force of the blow.

William didn't let his guard down, his grip on the spear tightening as he assessed the situation. But then, more werewolves appeared, their hulking forms crashing through the trees like a dark tide.

The ambush quickly devolved into chaos.

In the midst of the confusion, a high-level werewolf leaped through the shadows, its powerful hind legs launching it forward in a deadly arc. In an instant, it closed the distance, its claws slicing through the air like blades.

William's eyes widened as he caught sight of the three razor-sharp claws heading straight for him. He barely had time to react.

CRASH!

The werewolf's claws slammed into William's dragon scale armor, the force of the impact immense. Though the armor absorbed most of the damage, the sheer power of the strike sent William flying through the air like a ragdoll. He crashed into a massive tree with a loud thud, the trunk shaking violently from the impact. Leaves rained down as William crumpled to the ground.

"Damn it…" he muttered, his chest tight and his breath ragged. The armor had saved his life, but the force of the blow left him dazed and in pain.

Before he could gather his bearings, another surge of danger prickled at his senses. William rolled to the side just in time.

BOOM!

The ground where he had just lain exploded as another werewolf landed with a deafening thud, its claws buried in the dirt. The beast snarled, its eyes blazing with murderous intent. Without hesitation, it lunged again, closing the gap with terrifying speed.

William scrambled to his feet, pivoting sharply as he swept his spear in a wide arc.

WHOOSH!

The blade sliced through the underbrush like a scythe, cutting plants and leaves cleanly in its path. The attack was precise and deadly, but the werewolf was faster. With a fluid motion, it leapt into the air, flipping forward to evade the sweeping strike.

Before William could react, the beast twisted mid-air, its ferocious face appearing mere inches from his own. Its claws slashed downward, aiming for a lethal strike.

William's heart raced. His spear was still mid-swing, and there was no time to block. Desperately, he twisted his body, barely dodging the brunt of the attack. But the werewolf's claws still caught his shoulder, the blow heavy and unforgiving.

"Argh!" William grunted as the force sent him skidding backward. His boots dug deep into the ground, carving two long furrows in the dirt. He only managed to stop himself by slamming the butt of his spear into the earth, using it as an anchor.

The pain in his shoulder throbbed, but William ignored it. His grip on the spear remained firm as he steadied himself, his face grim and determined.

This wasn't just any werewolf, it was another high-level one, its every move calculated and precise. It wasn't simply relying on brute strength; this one was an experienced killer.

William took a deep breath, his mind racing. The hunters were still engaged with the others, and he couldn't count on backup anytime soon. This fight was his alone.

The werewolf growled, its lips curling back to reveal sharp, blood-stained fangs. It crouched low, preparing for another charge.

William adjusted his stance, his spear gleaming under the faint light filtering through the trees. He couldn't afford another mistake. Every move had to be perfect, or it would be his last.

"Come on, then," he muttered under his breath, his voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins. "Let's finish this."

The werewolf roared, and the battle began anew.

William gritted his teeth as he reeled from the realization, he was completely outmatched. Despite his physique being his highest attribute, he was still crushed in terms of raw power.

These werewolves were no ordinary foes. Most of them were only level 15 or 16, half-wolf hybrids at best, yet their physical stats were monstrous, easily ranging between 18 and 19 points. Their sheer endurance and strength dwarfed his own, making him painfully aware that he had no chance of standing toe-to-toe with a high-level werewolf.

And yet, this battlefield was no place for weakness. Both the hunters and the werewolves had fought countless battles, their clashes spanning an unknown amount of time. Only the strongest, on both sides; had survived this brutal game of survival. The low-level and unfit had long since been weeded out, leaving behind a collection of hardened killers.

If not for his dragon scale armor, William knew he would've already been torn to pieces.

The two hunters stationed on the periphery, seeing William's precarious situation, immediately discarded their bows. They drew their gleaming daggers, their expressions hardened with resolve, and charged forward to intercept the werewolf that had forced William into retreat.

William didn't hesitate. He knew that even three of them against a high-level werewolf wouldn't guarantee a quick kill. Staying engaged would be pointless and reckless. He pulled back, allowing the two hunters to handle the immediate threat while he refocused on the larger picture.

Amid the chaos, William's sharp eyes locked onto another target, a werewolf riddled with short arrows, looking like a grotesque hedgehog. Two exhausted hunters were struggling to hold it off, their movements slow and desperate. William's instincts screamed at him: strike where the enemy is weakest.

Better to cut off one finger than to injure ten!

He sprinted into the fray, his spear at the ready, energy surging through his body. With a powerful shout, he activated [Piercing Attack].

The air around him crackled as energy spiraled around the spear. The blade erupted with a silver light, fierce and dazzling, like the breath of a raging dragon.

"Die!" William roared, pouring every ounce of strength and focus into his strike.

The wounded werewolf, though slowed by its injuries, refused to yield. Its movements were clumsy but fueled by a feral determination. Even on the brink of death, it roared with renewed fury, its claws lashing out at the hunters.

But its weakened state left it vulnerable. The beast couldn't react in time as William's spear shot forward, striking true.

Pfft!

The blade pierced through its chest with a sickening sound, shattering bone and flesh alike. The spear drove deep, obliterating its heart. The werewolf staggered, blood pooling beneath it, the once-mighty beast reduced to a crumpled form.

For any other creature, this would've been the end. But not for a werewolf.

Even with its heart destroyed and its body riddled with arrows, the beast refused to fall. Its wolf-like lips curled back in a feral snarl, drool dripping as its muscles spasmed. It clutched the spear embedded in its chest, preventing William from pulling it free. Only the tip of the weapon protruded from its back, glistening with fresh blood.

Its crimson eyes burned with hatred, locking onto William as it growled through clenched teeth, "I'm going to… kill you… rip out your… throat!"

Its voice was weak, strained, but the sheer ferocity in its words sent a chill down William's spine. The werewolf's claws lashed out blindly, the motions sluggish and lacking strength, but its determination to fight to its last breath was terrifying.

William narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening on the spear. "Not today," he muttered coldly.

With a sudden jerk, William yanked the spear free. Blood gushed from the wound in a steaming torrent, splattering across his dragon scale armor. The werewolf staggered, its knees buckling, yet it remained upright, its unrelenting will keeping it alive.

"Enough," William growled, stepping forward. His body tensed, energy crackling along the length of his spear. He raised the weapon high, its blade glowing a brilliant silver-white.

"Fall!" he shouted.

In a single, decisive motion, William brought the spear down.

CRACK!

A flash of silver lightning split the air, striking the werewolf's skull with unerring precision. The force of the blow cleaved its head clean in two, the halves falling apart in a spray of blood. The beast's body collapsed to the ground in a lifeless heap, its ferocious growls silenced forever.

William stood over the corpse, his chest heaving, his grip firm on the bloodied spear. His dragon scale armor glistened with a mix of blood and sweat, the heat of battle still coursing through his veins.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes scanning the battlefield. This was far from over. But for now, one more monster had fallen.