The battlefield had gone silent.
Not because the fighting had stopped, but because fear had finally taken root.
Broken marble. Collapsed pillars. Blood soaked the estate grounds. The five elite Oldenberg hunters stood battered and breathing heavily, while Luke Ross remained perfectly upright.
Silver wounds covered his body. Deep cuts ran across his arms and torso. Burns from silver blades still smoked on his skin. Blood dripped slowly down his chest.
Yet somehow, he looked far more dangerous now than when the fight began.
Malcolm slowly lowered the satellite phone, his breathing rough, eyes never leaving Luke.
The night had descended into pure chaos.
Gunfire crackled in the distance. Growls echoed through the estate. Then Malcolm gave the order, his voice carrying across the grounds like a death sentence.
"Soldiers… let the Battle of Wolves begin."
Instantly, the entire battlefield twisted into something inhuman.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
Bones broke violently. Muscles expanded. Spines stretched unnaturally. Clothes tore apart as massive bodies grew larger and larger. The 246 elite soldiers transformed into towering humanoid wolves nearly ten feet tall — pure muscle, thick fur, and claws sharp enough to rend steel. Some still wore remnants of tactical armor. Others had silver-lined gauntlets fused to their massive hands.
They were no longer soldiers.
They were war monsters.
Iris froze behind the marble wall. Her own wolf felt tiny and insignificant in comparison.
Charlotte transformed first among the elites — silver-gray fur rippling across her body, hatred blazing in her predatory eyes. Malcolm followed. His transformation was even more terrifying. Over ten feet tall and built like a walking tank.
Then all 246 wolves growled at once.
The sound shook the entire estate.
And they charged.
The ground trembled violently beneath hundreds of pounding feet. Luke stood motionless in the center, watching them come.
The first wolf reached him, massive claws swinging for his skull. Luke sidestepped cleanly and drove his elbow into its ribs with monstrous force.
BOOM.
The giant body flew sideways, crashing into two others.
Another attacked from above. Luke grabbed its arm, twisted, and CRACKED the limb backward before kicking it through a marble wall. Three more attacked in formation. Luke ducked, blocked, and headbutted one so hard blood exploded across the courtyard.
But they kept coming.
Relentless.
One tackled him around the waist. Another locked his arm. A third went for his throat. Luke grinned, then exploded with raw power.
BOOM!
All three wolves were hurled off him like toys.
Even Malcolm narrowed his eyes.
Luke's strength was abnormal.
A wolf rushed from behind. Luke spun and punched straight through its shoulder, lifting the entire ten-foot body off the ground. Another lunged toward Iris. Luke moved faster than she could track, grabbed the beast by the face, and slammed it into a pillar, shattering the stone.
He never stopped moving.
No wasted motion.
No hesitation.
He flowed through the sea of monsters like an ancient predator — dodging claws by inches, breaking limbs, crushing ribs, throwing bodies, and smiling the entire time.
Charlotte growled furiously. "WHY WON'T YOU FALL?!"
She rushed him alongside Malcolm. Charlotte attacked high. Malcolm attacked low. Perfect timing.
Luke blocked Charlotte's claws barehanded while Malcolm's kick slammed into his ribs.
BOOM!
The impact launched Luke backward through a stone staircase. Debris exploded everywhere.
For a moment, silence.
Then the rubble shifted.
Luke slowly stood up. Dust fell from his shoulders. Blood dripped from his mouth.
And he laughed.
Actually laughed.
That terrified the wolves more than anything else.
Malcolm realized it first.
Luke wasn't struggling.
He was enjoying this.
Then suddenly, Luke's expression changed.
The smile vanished.
The battlefield grew deathly quiet. Even the giant wolves hesitated instinctively.
Luke slowly rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck once.
For the first time that night, his eyes began glowing with a faint silver-blue light.
The air became heavier. Colder. Oppressively predatory.
Charlotte took an unconscious step backward.
Because every instinct in her body was screaming one word:
Danger.
Luke slowly looked at the hundreds of towering wolves surrounding him.
Then spoke, his voice low and calm.
"Alright."
A pause.
"Let's level it up."
The battlefield went silent.
Not because the fighting had stopped, but because every wolf present felt it in their bones.
Something fundamental had changed.
Luke stood at the center of the ruined courtyard, chest rising and falling slowly as blood dripped from dozens of silver wounds. Broken marble surrounded him. Burning debris crackled in the night. Moonlight glinted off the blood coating his body like war paint.
Then his eyes began to glow — a cold, piercing silver-blue.
Charlotte felt her stomach twist. Not fear. Instinct. The kind prey feels the moment before death claims it.
Luke slowly lowered his head.
The ground beneath him cracked apart.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
His body expanded violently. Muscles twisted and knotted beneath torn flesh. Bones reshaped with sickening pops. Dark veins spread across his frame like cracks in ice. Massive claws extended from his fingers like sharpened blades of death. Silver-white fur spread across his body like winter consuming the night.
He rose taller. Larger. Monstrous.
Nearly ten feet of pure muscle and killing instinct.
When Luke finally lifted his head, those glowing icy-blue eyes pierced through the entire battlefield.
Silence.
Even the towering war wolves hesitated.
Because standing before them now was not just another werewolf.
This thing felt ancient.
Charlotte growled furiously, trying to suppress the terror clawing at her chest. "ATTACK HIM!"
The battlefield exploded.
Dozens of war wolves rushed Luke at once — massive humanoid beasts moving with terrifying speed. Claws. Fangs. Silver weapons glinting under moonlight.
Luke moved first.
BOOM!!!
The ground shattered beneath his feet as he launched forward like a missile. One wolf barely raised its arms before Luke's claw ripped straight through its shoulder. Blood exploded across the courtyard. He spun instantly, his powerful tail smashing another wolf hard enough to send the ten-foot body crashing through a stone wall.
Two more attacked together. Luke ducked beneath the first strike, grabbed the second by the face, and slammed him into the first with bone-crushing force. CRACK! Both bodies collapsed.
Another lunged from above. Luke caught it mid-air with one hand and hurled the giant wolf through three others like a cannonball.
The battlefield dissolved into pure chaos.
Growls echoed everywhere. Bodies crashed through pillars. Blood painted the estate grounds. But no matter how many attacked, Luke kept advancing.
Relentless.
One wolf slashed across his chest with silver claws. The wound tore open, smoke rising from the burn. Luke didn't even flinch. He grabbed the wolf's arm and crushed it. The sound of bones shattering rang across the battlefield.
Charlotte attacked next — fast, precise, military-trained. Her claws slashed toward his throat.
Luke blocked her strike barehanded, silver digging into his palm, blood dripping. Then he smiled.
A terrifying, predatory smile.
He twisted violently and threw Charlotte across the courtyard with enough force to destroy an entire stone staircase.
Malcolm roared and charged immediately after. Unlike the others, Malcolm was enormous — a dark gray war machine built for annihilation. His fist slammed into Luke's ribs with a devastating BOOM!, creating a visible shockwave.
Luke slid backward, digging his claws into the ground to stop himself.
Then he laughed.
Actually laughed.
That sound shook the wolves more than any blow.
Malcolm attacked again. The two titans collided head-on. Claws crashed against claws. Fists slammed into flesh. The ground cracked repeatedly beneath their fury.
The rest of the wolves tried to overwhelm Luke through sheer numbers.
It didn't work.
He moved through them like a blizzard given flesh — breaking arms, crushing ribs, throwing ten-foot monsters like children. Slowly, the tide of the battle shifted. The wolves stopped attacking with confidence.
Now they attacked with desperation.
Charlotte noticed too late.
Luke wasn't slowing down.
He was getting faster. More violent. More efficient.
Like battle itself was feeding something ancient inside him.
Charlotte rushed him one final time, a furious roar tearing from her throat.
"YOU SHOULD'VE DIED TWELVE YEARS AGO!"
Her claws slashed toward his face —
Luke caught her throat instantly.
Charlotte froze, dangling in the air.
Luke slowly lifted her massive wolf body off the ground with one arm. Her claws dug desperately into his forearm, trying to break free.
But his grip never wavered.
Those glowing icy-blue eyes stared directly into hers — emotionless. Cold.
Then he pulled.
RIIIIIP.
Blood exploded across the battlefield.
Charlotte's head tore completely from her body. Her corpse collapsed heavily onto the marble, still in wolf form.
Silence.
Complete, suffocating silence.
Even the surviving wolves stopped moving.
Charlotte Oldenberg — dead.
Malcolm roared. Not in anger.
In pain.
He charged Luke with everything he had left. The two beasts collided one final time. Malcolm fought like a true war wolf — breaking Luke's arm in one brutal exchange, slashing deep into his chest.
But it wasn't enough.
Luke was stronger.
Faster.
Far more brutal.
Malcolm threw a final desperate punch. Luke ducked beneath it and drove his claws directly into Malcolm's stomach.
Malcolm froze. Blood poured from his mouth.
Luke stepped closer until their faces were inches apart.
Malcolm stared into those glowing blue eyes and laughed weakly.
"So this…" he coughed, blood spilling down his chin, "…is what Lucian saw in you…"
Luke said nothing.
Malcolm smiled bitterly.
Then Luke's claws tore upward through his chest.
Malcolm Oldenberg collapsed.
Dead.
Silence fell across the battlefield once more.
The surviving wolves stepped backward instinctively, eyes wide with terror.
The monster their family had come to hunt…
had become the hunter.