Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 475 First Intimate Contact

At the northern border, the rotting corpse Wendigo, emerging from the snow and ice, bursts open the carriage, its massive paws slamming down to seize two terrified draft horses and devour their flesh.

At the same time, the giant spider Arachne stretched out its long legs from a black cauldron in a pharmacy, slicing through glass and counters wherever it went; the beautiful human-bodied serpent demon Lamia crawled out of a rotten, hollowed-out log by the roadside, greedily sucking in the air from the outside world; the specimen jars being auctioned in the black market shattered like eggshells, and pale, bat-like creatures wrapped in formalin smashed through the glass and rushed outside, finally flapping their wings and flying into the sky.

The nameless mummy, wrapped in tattered bandages, pushed open the heavy coffin lid. Its lifeless face was aimed at the tomb robbers above the pit, who were holding shovels and looking bewildered. Moonlight streamed into its sunken eye sockets, visible through the bandages, turning them into two scarlet eyes.
All the Darkin sent to the North District by the Friendship Association have awakened.

Calculations show that even if the means of controlling them do not fail at the same time, the differences are not significant.

The awakened monsters felt weak and thirsty, and there were no powerful enemies around them. Only quiet houses and streets were bathed in moonlight, and people were already fast asleep in their homes.

A piercing cry suddenly rang out from the northern camp of Conionne, lingering in the air like a tangible entity, a harbinger of doom by a banshee attached to the werewolves.

However, this warning failed to reach the ears of those who truly needed it.

The massacre began.

Using sensory organs that humans lack, these strangely shaped monsters track the scent of living beings and spirits, breaking through doors and windows, rushing into the rooms, tearing apart the humans who have just awakened, and filling their hungry stomachs with fresh flesh and blood.

The area north of Weaudi was a typical slum. People couldn't afford large houses, so two families often rented a room, taking turns to rest according to their shifts. The raids by Conrionay and his men along the river caused a wave of unemployment. These unemployed people couldn't work and had to stay in their rooms with their roommates, sometimes with more than twelve people sharing a small 30-square-meter room. Alternatively, they could stay in cheap rope hotels, using a rope as a bed to get by for the night.

The above is not meaningless, but rather serves to illustrate a point.

The human density here is extremely high.

The living people filled every habitable place, leaving almost no space.

It's like meat lying in a can.

This made it easy for the monsters to take them out and eat them.

Upon regaining consciousness, the serpentine demon Lamia immediately lunged at the nearest house. Her long, powerful serpentine body writhed as she slithered through the trembling, startled crowd, capturing children to devour.

The child's parents rushed to take their child back, but not only did they fail, they also lost their own lives.

The resistance enraged Lamia, who snapped the neck of the food she was holding and swung her powerful snake tail at the others, proving that it would only take a moment to turn this vibrant sanctuary into a scene of carnage, blood smeared on the walls, and even staining the ceiling red.

The equally bloodthirsty and cruel Wendigo was not as efficient as her; its moose skull got stuck at the window, its massive antlers getting in the way.

It took a little effort to crush the wall before bending down and going inside to feast.

The other humans' loud screams and fleeing upon waking did not anger it. It sat cross-legged on the ground, letting those who still had reason pass by it and escape through the huge exit in the wall.

This does not mean they will survive.

Wendigo had marked them, and it could track them down by the scent of fear no matter where they fled.

While eating itself is enjoyable for Wendigo, it has a higher spiritual purpose.

For the sake of this game, it spared the neighbor's family. After finishing the carcass in its hand, it strode outside and moved between the buildings, using a light and gentle gait that was not in proportion to its size to track down the prey that had been deliberately let go, just as it had spent its days in the northern frozen forests and wastelands.

However, not all monsters prefer straightforward methods.

A pale, bat-like creature landed in front of a house that looked somewhat tidy and wealthy. Only then, under the moonlight, did its appearance become clear.

The bat's head had no eyes or nostrils, only a mouth that was somewhat normal. Human hands grew from the tips of its wings and where its claws should have been. Only its abdomen bore the imposing face of a man. It folded its hairless wings, stood before the door, and knocked amicably.

The person sleeping on the bench near the door woke up, groggily rolled over, got up, and went to open the door by himself.

The door opened abruptly, and he saw a majestic, beardless face set against what appeared to be a white curtain. Before he could even discern whether what he was seeing was a dream, a pair of pale hands with smooth, wrinkle-free knuckles grabbed his shoulders, and then he was propelled into the sky.
The open door swayed in the evening breeze, but there was nothing in front of it, as if nothing had happened.
These monsters are not without intelligence; some of them even surpass humans in intelligence. However, they disdain using their intelligence to communicate with humans. The power of the curse has transformed their souls and bodies, making their perception extraordinary and enabling them to observe the true world in ways far beyond what humans can perceive.

Therefore, they disdain everything.

The Witcher Allies of the Mutual Aid have captured these abhorrent beings.

Each of them belongs to the category of the cursed, monsters that have been oppressed by an extremely powerful curse, ultimately abandoning the use of reason and becoming completely dependent on the curse and driven by instinct.

Conionne was unaware of this at the time, but the wailing of the banshee reminded them that something unknown had changed.

The pack of wolves gathering in the street looked hesitantly in the direction of Opius, seeking further instructions.

Opius stood at the forefront, dressed in his usual opulent attire, but his different customs from his kin signified his determination to fight. The banshee's ominous wails made him furrow his brow.

"Elder Defoe, please perform a divination."

A female werewolf, still wearing Stora's robes after transforming into her werewolf form, stepped forward and took out a crystal ball the size of an apple from between her belts. She held the crystal ball high with both paws and peered at the constellation of chariots and horses in the sky with the center of the crystal ball, which was the constellation of travel and career.

The light between the stars is magnified in the crystal, connecting them into one.

Elder Defoe slowed her breathing and silently deciphered the celestial phenomena. Ten minutes later, she retrieved the crystal ball, her body swaying precariously. The energy required to interpret the celestial phenomena did not decrease because she was a werewolf; on the contrary, it increased.

She said, "The stars indicate that we have some trouble, very close to the door, but it's not serious and won't affect future developments."

Conionai nodded, his gaze sweeping over the wolf pack before settling on the militia maintaining order on the street.

He didn't know if Elder Defoe had included these people in his calculations. Just because some problems weren't serious for werewolves didn't mean they could be easily solved for mortals, even if they had guns.

Just to be on the safe side, he selected ten werewolves, including a Clan Fang, who were to stay and guard the camp with the militia.

Losing ten warriors is nothing; the remaining wolf pack is more than enough to deal with any of Wei Aodi's forces.

These ten werewolves, however, felt somewhat aggrieved. Rather than staying behind, they preferred to fight against stronger enemies. For a long time, as assassins, they had only fought against opponents far weaker than themselves and had to constantly conceal their identities. Tonight's battle was a rare opportunity; they didn't need to consider anything else, only focus on fighting.

Unleashing one's full potential is a great pleasure, but they are now being deprived of that right.

They might have been able to restrain themselves before, but after the battle by the river, they became addicted and their previously suppressed nature grew wildly, making it difficult for them to return to their former selves.

Some werewolves subconsciously showed expressions of dissatisfaction.

Noticing those gazes, Opiross snapped, "Don't be foolish! Now that they know our stronghold, they'll definitely send people to investigate the situation here. If they see our main force leaving, it's very likely they'll mobilize more men to attack the camp."

"The divination only mentioned that our cause will be victorious, not that there will be no sacrifices. You must guard this place, together with our people. I don't want to return here after killing Daur only to find ruins!"

Hearing that there was likely to be another battle, the werewolves finally calmed down.

Opius looked up at the moon.

"We'll set off once Harcha returns."