Elara's eyes widened. She thought she had misheard Skjor. The clash of steel, the screams of men, the inhuman snarls—yet that single phrase cut through it all.
Let it out.
Her heart hammered as she turned toward Kael. His sword hand trembled. His jaw clenched. His eyes, were glowing faintly gold under the torchlight.
"What… what does he mean?" she whispered, her staff still sparking with fading light.
Kael couldn't meet her eyes. The heat burning in his blood was rising too fast now, boiling, demanding release. Every heartbeat was a drum of rage. Every breath carried the scent of blood and fur.
The muzzled beast roared again, the chains around it glowing with cruel runes. The raiders laughed, pulling it forward like a weapon. Vampires flitted through the shadows, their red eyes glowing with hunger.
There was no time to explain.
Kael dropped his sword. His back arched. A guttural growl tore from his throat as his muscles spasmed, bones grinding, reshaping.
Elara staggered back, her lips parting in horror.
Skjor was already changing. His body ripped through armor and cloth, twisting into something massive, fur spilling across his frame. Farkas and Vilkas followed, their twin roars shaking the battlefield.
The Companions were no longer men.
They were wolves. She has heard of them in the guard's idle chats—werewolves.
The sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone filled the night. Shadows writhed and reshaped. Where warriors had stood, towering beasts now crouched, fangs glinting in the firelight.
Elara gasped, her knees weakening. She wanted to scream, to run, but her voice caught in her throat.
And then Kael lifted his head.
His golden eyes met hers. Not human, not anymore. But behind that predatory glow was recognition and control.
It was still him.
The vampires hissed, some recoiling. The raiders' laughter broke into shouts of fear. Even the muzzled werewolf jerked against its bonds, its muffled howl answering theirs.
The Companions lunged.
Kael's claws tore through steel as if it were paper. He ripped into a vampire, blood spraying across the dirt. The beast inside him roared with triumph, but he forced himself to stay focused.
Control.
He grabbed the head of one vampire as he dodged a blood orb. Digging his claws into it's head, he repeatedly slammed it against the floor like a ragdoll before reaping it's head off and flinging it towards another vampire with a speed so fast, it shattered it's skull.
Beside him, Skjor slammed into the raider leader, the man screaming as the wolf's jaws closed around his shoulder. Vilkas and Farkas tore through the enemy ranks, their claws flashing like blades, each swipe spraying blood like a fountain
Elara stood frozen. The villagers peered from broken homes, their faces pale with terror.
"W-Werewolves…" she whispered. "The Companions… all of them…"
Slowly, as she watched on, her fear began to sub...side? Kael, he wasn't just killing. He was protecting. Every slash, every leap, he shielded her, pushed enemies back from her side.
Her hand tightened on her staff.
"Then… then if this is your truth… I'll stand with you."
She raised her hand and unleashed a blast of flame, burning through a vampire as it lunged at Kael's back.
For a moment, their eyes met again. His golden glare softened, even through the bloodlust.
But there was no time to linger.
The ground shook.
The muzzled beast tore against its chains. The runes cracked. Sparks of corrupted magic sprayed into the air as the raiders pushed it forward.
Kael's blood turned to ice.
A werewolf tainted by witchcraft and vampiric energies is a literal stuff of nightmares.
The System flickered in his vision one last time.
[Warning: Aberrant Werewolf Detected.][Threat Level: Fatal.][Survive.]
And then...
Crack!
The chain holding it back tore apart.