Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 511 Supporting the Future
For Clayton Bello, finding the Witchcraft Society was not difficult. He used his extraordinary sense of smell to trace the trail of battle on the northern front to the hideout of these demon worshippers.

The Conionais could certainly be found, but they don't want to find them for the time being.

Just like Julius thought—since the existence of the Witchcraft Society can still harass the Friendship Society, why bother going after them?

Clayton, however, had no intention of letting them off easily.

This contradicts his previous idea of ​​"just observing," but now that he has intervened and become one of the many mixed "winds," why should he be timid and hesitant?

As his friend and a driving force behind Weaudie's current situation, Norris may also be looking forward to figuring out his direction.

An ordinary person doesn't need to consider the "wind direction." In this era, just living well already takes up a lot of energy, and thinking about goals and principles is a luxury.

But Clayton is no ordinary person; if he said that, it would be a self-deprecating statement bordering on hypocrisy.

His power naturally grants him status, and even if he doesn't use his power to gain power, others will still have to consider his opinions.

He harbored a violent nature, yet remained like a stone buried in the ground, only emerging to stir up bloodshed when someone did something he disapproved of. This too was a kind of sinister intention. If not to satisfy his bloodlust, Clayton had no other reason to live this way.

Some things should be stopped before they happen.

Now he needs to take the initiative to showcase himself and let others decide whether to be his friend or foe.

Wei Aodi was just the beginning.

As night fell, a private house in the western district nestled among a row of four-story buildings. Because of its extensive use of stone, it appeared far more luxurious than its neighbors. Each window was covered by curtains, with only a few rays of light filtering through the gaps. Moonlight spilled onto its white exterior, illuminating it as a gray cardboard box.

Abigail and her followers took a temporary rest in this house.

The wealthy always willingly offered the prophet all their help without paying any rent, simply because she could provide them with revelations about the future.

The prophets of the Temple of Truth always receive meticulous care from this social class. Whether it's a beautiful, soft mink shawl, precious ambergris, or rare exotic species, these things will be delivered to them whenever the prophets say they need them.

Abigail sat leisurely by the fireplace, rocking in her rocking chair and stretching her bare feet out to warm them in the fire.

A prominent figure in the contemporary medical field said that there are four key points to maintaining good health: first, keep the body dry; second, keep the soles of the feet warm; third, get enough sleep; and fourth, eat nutritious food. She strictly follows each of these principles.

Even though she has never been mistreated, she often wonders when this comfortable life will come to an end.

Although she could not foresee her own death, she could see the fate of the old prophets in the Temple of Truth whose magic had declined. They were certainly not worried about food and clothing, but it was impossible for them to gain the respect of the younger generation, because they had lost the ability to prophesy and were no longer prophets.

Besides aging, there are three other things that prophets cannot predict.

First, there are prophets—including oneself; the connection between prophets can lead to incorrect prophecies.

Secondly, there are things related to curses. Curses are eternal and contagious. Divining about cursed people or things may lead to one's spirit being corrupted by the King of Curses hanging high in the sky.

Thirdly, there must be theories and knowledge that have never appeared in the world before; otherwise, every prophet would be a scientist and inventor.

As a member of the True Words Society, she naturally sided with the Friendship Society in the face of Wei Aodi's changes. The Kong Lionai who were cursed by the Dark Moon and turned into werewolves were not good customers.

The Friendship Society, which has been gradually corrupted by the Witch Society, is better than the werewolves.

Moreover, this was not an accident, but rather something the prophets did intentionally.

The True Words Society had noticed Weaudi many years ago, when the heretics and societies were not as diverse as they are now, but the Witchcraft Society and Oranster were already here.

Orlanster and the winged serpents behind him are just beginning to emerge in the "real world," but they already possess a mystery and power that rivals their kind, while the Witchcraft Society is barely surviving in the gutter.

The True Words were interested in the winged serpent's ability to regenerate limbs, hoping to use it to restore the prophets' eyes. However, the winged serpent was unwilling to demonstrate its operation, which greatly troubled the True Words, leading them to make a rare long-term plan.

Abigail's visit to Weaudi was to bring this matter to a close.

She withdrew her already warm feet, placing them firmly on the solid wood floor, her gaze still fixed on the fire. In those eyes, covered by a thick white film, many black dots moved, drifting towards the firelight reflected in the center, eventually coalescing again into a circular hole resembling a pupil, swallowing the vibrant colors of the flames.

For prophets, their talent for prophecy is both a gift and a curse. They have the ability to glimpse a corner of fate, but because of this, they can never become immortal on their own, only better than the Stone Gate School. Since there is no hope for the future, exchanging their abilities for a comfortable life becomes their only option.

Commercialization is the path to Truth.

But other societies are not like that.

For members of traditional societies like Orlanster, their path and faith are one, and they are the majority.

“Let’s do another divination,” Abigail thought, looking at the firelight in the fireplace.

The Lich Kings have grown powerful enough that they've even stolen some of Orlanster's secret documents, though they can't decipher them yet. These secrets can be used for trade or for divination for future use.

If these secrets are related to the technology the mantra desires, then even if they are incomplete, they are still valuable enough.

The reason the Friendship Society spent a lot of money to contact the Holy Grail Order was to prevent this possibility, as the art of flesh alchemy should also be able to be used to decipher the wrong path of the Blood Secrets.

The fruits of success are within reach.

She habitually focused her mind and performed divination for this final step.

The prophet's divination is more accurate. It does not require spell materials, but it consumes the prophet's life and spirit. Therefore, Abigail never performs divination without a reason. At this moment, she suddenly felt that she had to do so, and she was completely captivated by this idea.

Half a minute later, she saw a fragment of the future. Rage ruined her beauty, and her expression was ferocious with gritted teeth. Her slender hands gripped the armrests of the rocking chair tightly, as if she wanted to break the wood. Her body sat stiffly on the chair, like a tiny tin doll.

"Stubborn and inflexible cops! And those damn werewolves!"

Her attendants, hearing the commotion in the outer room, immediately came and knocked on the door. After learning that the situation was out of control, they asked her if she needed an armed raid.

Abigail, of course, said no.

She envisioned a future scenario: Albert patrolling the streets with a large number of police officers, and whenever she and her armed entourage appeared before the sheriff, he would do everything in his power to hold them back, even at the cost of fighting them.

Meanwhile, the werewolves were fighting against the Witchcraft Society, the outcome uncertain. Abigail dared not watch any longer, for such close spiritual contact would taint her soul with a curse.

Albert made her angrier than the werewolf.

She had tried to persuade him to stop, but he ignored her, which was utterly humiliating.

He dared to be her enemy simply because he relied on an organization that had been established in Weaudi for less than half a year and those half-baked gunmen.

Isn't he afraid of losing his life?
Abigail couldn't understand it, but Albert's actions were indeed effective. Getting entangled with these inferiors would be extremely inappropriate, and even if successful, it would result in manpower losses. Abigail hated resource losses, and she would never waste her time on them. She would simply avoid them like the hedgehog.

She changed into men's clothing, then left the room and instructed the others to find a woman to impersonate her and parade through the streets to distract the police. She also called five of her most capable men to accompany her, as they were to bypass the main road and go to the North District to support the Witchcraft Society.

However, at this time, the Witchcraft Society had not yet engaged in battle with Clayton Bello.

The werewolf, leaning on the Builder's Hammer, casually knocked on the door of the Witchcraft Guild's hideout in the North District. He was then treated as a wealthy customer by the demon worshippers. Although Clayton's battle with the monsters had not been publicized, the Witchcraft Guild was well-informed, and many gang members in Cocoon Street had secretly held Witchcraft meetings.

These demon worshippers in overalls believed that Clayton was an enemy of the existing order, so they were exceptionally enthusiastic and even sent someone to communicate with him in a deliberately cleared room.

“Just last week, the shameless actions of the Love Society shocked the entire city. One of my business friends was persecuted. He had originally intended to come to you, but later changed his mind and decided to move away from the city.”

“I had never been in contact with you before, but he told me that you had gotten your hands on something good and attracted a big buyer.”

He sat on the sofa opposite the member of the Witchcraft Society, and raised his left hand across the table in a gesture of grabbing.

The members of the Witchcraft Society sitting opposite him had an expression of sudden realization.