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A Very Heated Argument

I froze. My entire body went rigid at the sight of the two prisoners lying on those planks. They were both men. One looked awake, cowering away from the carnage, while the other lay unconscious and oblivious to the danger.

Every wolf instinct that had been driving me forward for most of the night screamed for me to flee. I had to leave the hapless men to their fate and race for the safety of stage 1 while I still could. My legs twitched and I leaned toward the tantalizing shadows of the forest so close in front of me.

No.

My mind fought up from the haze of fear and instinct that had been keeping my thoughts fuzzy. The sight of those poor men was like a splash of icy water across my thoughts.

Run, my wolf instincts howled right into my mind, along with a fresh flash of fear. The wolf did not like fleeing, but it knew when standing and fighting meant a useless death, and its instincts pushed it to survive above all things.

No.

I couldn’t do it. The temptation to simply run set my claws trembling, tearing slowly-widening divots in the soft ground, but I fought it back. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to escape this insane stage and find my team, joke with Steve and maybe share a smile with Ruby. I’d even welcome another judgmental comment from Tony.

All I had to do was abandon two strangers to die.

No. I saw my same fear reflected in the face of the man struggling in vain with his chains. Identify kicked in from across the clearing.

“William Treville. Level 11 baby human. Team Musketeer.”

He looked to be in his mid 30s with a stocky build, brown hair and eyes, and a rugged face. He wore a very medieval-looking costume of trousers and leather-armored jacket with a bunch of straps and buckles.

William. Now I knew his name. William would die if I turned and ran to save myself.

I started to turn back, but my wolf instincts tore against my control, rising against me in a wild torrent. Fear and rage and pride ripped through my mind, trying to inundate it again as the wolf part of me fought to overwhelm conscious thought and save us.

I growled, low and dangerous, crouching with corded muscles tensing from the strain as I fought to retain my conscious self. For a moment, I saw red as I struggled with myself. The battle raging across the clearing filled every sense with blood and death and bloodlust. I swayed where I stood, fighting to define my very being.

Wolf instincts crashed over my mind again and again, like storm waves crashing against a cliff. But my mind was the cliff, and the waves receded each time, allowing me to surface, my thoughts to clarify.

No. I will not flee. I am in control. You bow to me.

I seized control, and the wolf inside of me whimpered and faded away. With it, the timer for my spell flipped down to zero and lycanthropic transformation expired.

“Hey,” I growled, then collapsed as a sledgehamnmer of pain clobbered me right between the eyes.

Changing back to human form was not quite as bad as the initial transformation in the same way as breaking both arms and two ribs at the same time is not quite as bad as snapping both thigh bones. It still left me panting and groaning on the ground.

“Ow,” I mumbled as I sat up, every muscle and bone aching from getting broken and shredded, then rebuilt. The pain faded quickly, and I drew in a deep, shuddering breath, trying to remember the awe I’d felt at my raw power as a werewolf.

Except, I’d lost that power right when I needed it the most.

A low growl snapped me out of my lingering daze and I rolled to my feet. One of the werewolves was padding toward me. Its fur was singed and burned, its flesh cooked from zombie weapons, but it was still alive.

I don’t know if it was still chasing the rogue werewolf, or if it just smelled fresh meat and blood to replenish its energy stores, but it was coming right at me. Behind it, the battle was still raging. Three of the werewolves were down, while 5 of the zombies had been reduced to black, bloody chunks.

Both of the prisoners were still alive. The combatants on both sides were ignoring them, but that could change in a heartbeat. A single werewolf focusing on the scent of their blood could rip them apart.

“Come on,” I muttered as I pulled a couple items from my inventory.

The werewolf broke into a sprinting charge and leaped the last 15 feet, diving through the air straight at my heart. I slapped the emoji trap sticker to the haft of one of the steel-tipped cow spears and drove the spear into the ground butt first.

I took a step back as the werewolf plowed right into the spear, its bloodred eyes locked on my face. It clearly expected to smash right through the spear, but it hit the emoji sticker, triggering it, and a solid stone wall appeared in front of the wolf.

It smashed into the wall so hard, the stones cracked and collapsed over the stunned creature in a cascade of heavy blocks that dissolved a second later.

Before the werewolf could recover from braining itself, I jumped forward and slapped zombie manacles onto all 4 of its legs. They auto-sealed around every limb in a flash.

The wolf thrashed, trying to leap to its feet, but fell heavily to its side again. Werewolves were incredibly strong, but not in the right way to snap through manacles that required strength 50 to break.

I yanked the spear out of the ground and slammed it through the werewolf’s snapping muzzle. The spear punched right through the bottom of its jaw and sank half a foot into the soft soil, pinning the creature down for a moment.

The werewolf grunted and tried a choked howl as it thrashed weakly, but with its limbs shackled and its muzzle pinned to the ground, it lacked leverage to break free. I felt a powerful urge to leap upon it and sink my teeth into its throat.

What the hell? I shook off the impulse and pulled Soulrend into my hand. I wasn’t a werewolf any more. I couldn’t forget that, or I’d get myself killed trying to fight like one.

I slashed my blade down between the wolf’s eyes. The monster shuddered and fell to the ground, twitching. Transforming had healed my own spiritual damage, so I couldn’t trust it was dead. I slashed Soulrend through the beast’s midsection, right where I knew the pool of its regeneration powers was concealed. It twitched several more times, then sagged and stilled.

I got several notifications, but brushed them aside with all the rest I’d gotten when I first transformed back to human form. This wolf was out of the fight, at least for now, probably for good.

I touched it and triggered loot before running for the middle of the fight. The wolf dissolved into black, stinking mist, confirming it was dead.

“I’m insane and I’m going to die in 10 seconds,” I mumbled as I ran toward the raging battle.

The remaining 7 zombies had regained the center of the clearing, standing shoulder to shoulder, forming a defensive circle around the planks and prisoners. The 5 remaining werewolves tore at them from all sides like a terrifying tornado of teeth and razor claws.

Stun blasts sent werewolves staggering, while the constant blasting of laser rifles transformed the night into a ghastly, red-tinged disco. Some zombies fought with swords or axes while their companions fried werewolf eyes and faces with their rifles, but the relentless wolves kept charging in again and again. I now understood the confidence of rapid regeneration. Pain had seemed meaningless as a werewolf since it would fade almost instantly.

The zombies were looking ragged, every one of of them suffering gashes or missing limbs that would have killed a living human. The werewolves weren’t doing much better, but their fast regeneration was still mostly keeping up. The clearing stank of sludge-like zombie blood, singed hair, and burned meat.

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I slowed about 10 yards beyond the fight. None of the monsters had noticed me yet, and I took the opportunity to activate Mirror Cloak. As the world turned monochrome, I relaxed just a fraction inside the protective cloak. I took a deep, steadying breath to focus my thoughts and push back the fear the threatened to make me turn and run the other way.

I can do this. I have to do this.

That didn’t mean I had to be an idiot about it. Crouching low in the grass, I pulled 2 steaks from my inventory and pressed an emoji trap sticker onto each. Both stickers were the same, with smiling emoji faces gleefully exploding in a non-stop GIF-like loop. I wanted to kiss Cyrus for gifting me the sheet of stickers. I’d thought them a gag gift at first, but they were proving insanely effective.

I crept forward slowly, for once happy the entire clearing stank of death and dying. None of the werewolves would smell me coming. The battle still raged with unbridled ferocity as both sides ripped each other apart.

I paused a few feet behind the nearest werewolves that blocked me from the ring of zombies. I needed to slip through, but couldn’t risk trying to run through the fast-moving wolves. Even if they couldn’t see or smell me, trampling me would give me away just as easily and would be a stupid way to die.

Then in a coordinated move, the 2 werewolves just in front of me pounced at the same zombie, a stocky fellow who had been effectively fending them off with a long pike. One of the wolves took a shallow cut to the shoulder before batting the weapon aside while the other lunged in, caught the zombie by the leg, and yanked him out of the circle.

The other zombies tried to come to his aide, but the nearest werewolves redoubled their attacks, pressing them back. The hapless zombie stumbled, and that was his last mistake. The two werewolves pounced, one ripping apart his torso like a wrecking ball, while the other crunched through his head with implacable jaws.

That was my chance. I sprinted forward even though Mirror Cloak would ripple and maybe expose me for a second. Neither of the wolves were looking. I ran in and dove over them, tucking into a full forward somersault. As I tumbled over their heads, I dropped the two steaks with the emoji stickers.

The steaks plopped down to the grass on either side of the zombie just as the werewolves finished killing him. Without hesitating, they both snapped up the delectable morsels without bothering to wonder where the feast came from.

I landed in a roll just as twin explosions rocked the clearing behind me. A blast of bloody gore and wind helped propel me forward, rolling in my cloak right through the spot where the zombie had stood. I stopped in a crouch in the center of the ragged zombie circle, next to the prisoners.

A single glance back made me smile. Both werewolves were writhing on the ground, their faces regrowing from the blasts that had ripped their heads nearly apart.

One of the zombies turned his gun on them and blasted away with a withering barrage, trying to finish them. That got him tackled by a werewolf, resulting in a wild fight between 3 wolves and 2 other zombies.

The distraction gave me the opening I needed. I scooted in between the 2 planks with the prisoners. The second prisoner was awake now, but he’d ended up under his plank somehow. I didn’t have time to identify him.

I pulled the hood of my cloak partially back so William could see me. He started at my sudden appearance and exclaimed in a British accent, “Who the devil are you?”

“Shhh!” I hissed, but none of the monsters had noticed.

“Sorry. Can you help?”

Good question. He recovered from the surprise fast and focused on the problem. That was a good sign. The other fellow just gaped at me. His eyes were still a bit unfocused.

“That’s what I’m here for.” The look of hope on their faces was both encouraging and terrifying. I couldn’t promise them safety, only that I would try.

I seized William’s chains and focused on them. I knew how they worked since I’d looted several pairs. With the previous owner dead, someone other than the prisoner needed to claim them. A prompt appeared.

“Would you like to claim these manacles?”

I accepted the prompt, then willed the manacles to open.

“Thanks, mate,” William whispered, rubbing at chafed wrists as I unlocked the other manacles and dumped them into my inventory.

A zombie stumbled into my mostly invisible form, tripping over my back and falling to the ground next to William. One of its arms was missing, along with an entire leg. Before it could bring its rifle around, a sword appeared in William’s hand and he smashed it down through the zombie’s skull.

“Take that, you blighted devil,” William growled.

“Good move.” I turned to the other man, who was thrashing against his chains, trying to turn the plank over. He was a big guy with black hair that somehow still looked perfectly styled, and was dressed in tan chinos and a blue polo shirt.

“Praise the lord, ya’ll are a welcome sight,” he said with a noticeable southern accent. Maybe Louisiana, or something? I could never tell.

“Joey Hannigan. Level 10 baby human. Team Friends.”

I unshackled him and tossed the plank off. All around us, zombies and werewolves were still battling. It seemed miraculous that none of them had bothered to pounce on us in those few seconds it took me to free the other two.

“What the devil is going on?” William exclaimed, sword at the ready as he stared in wide-eyed fear at the fighting monsters while we crouched in the calm center of the storm.

“Long story. No time. We need to get out of here.”

“Got any more invisibility we can borrow?” Joey asked, then recoiled from the sight of a werewolf with one eye blown out from a laser blast ripping the head off the zombie who had just shot him.

“Longer story. Do you have a weapon?”

“Nothing for werewolves!”

I pulled a couple of laser rifles from my inventory and handed one to each of them. “These pack a punch, but takes a lot to finish them off. Do either of you have a spell we can use to break out of this mess?”

William grabbed the proffered rifle and it disappeared in his inventory. He kept his sword out. Joey took the other rifle and held it like he knew how to use a firearm. “My one permanent wont help, but I have a couple scroll spells that might. They have the same spell, and it takes 3 seconds to cast and will only work if we’re not still in the middle when it goes off.”

“Keep one ready for when we make a break for it.”

William said, “I’ve got something that can knock most of the monsters aside, but I doubt it’ll kill them.”

He kept his eyes on the fight, sword raising every couple seconds, as if he barely held back the urge to stab a zombie in the back. At the moment, they were acting as effective meat shields, but they were weakening. The werewolves would win, and I wanted to be gone, if we could be.

A score of ideas flashed through my mind, each crazier than the last. We couldn’t simply stand up and join the fray, making it a 3-way melee. The zombies and werewolves were too tough. We needed to level the playing field.

Only one idea held any chance. It was a long shot, but that was better than anything else we had.

“Okay, get your spell ready.”

“Ready. Say the word. When I trigger it, everyone hit the deck, or you’ll get caught up in it.”

“Got it.” I rose, Soulrend dropping into my hand as I studied the raging battle.

A couple more of the zombies had fallen, while 5 of the werewolves still lived. They were battered, but I could feel the tide of the battle shifting in their favor. They’d overwhelm the zombies in seconds.

The zombies seemed to realize it too because one of them stumbled back into the circle next to us, spinning to face us, ax raising. Planning to finish off the prisoners instead of losing them to the werewolves?

His black eyes widened to see my head floating on air between the other two. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, just long enough for me to strike.

I lashed out with Soulrend in a horizontal slash right across the zombie’s eyes and through his skull and brain behind. At the same time I triggered Fractal Strike, the spell I’d picked up from that Hannibal loot box after defeating the herd of cows.

“Fractal Strike. Spell. Make up to 4 reflections of one strike to hit up to 5 enemies simultaneously.”

Mana poured out of me and 4 more glowing copies of my sword appeared, each behind a different zombie. All 4 ghostly copies of my fatal strike slashed in identical horizontal strokes, cutting through zombie brains. All 5 zombies fell in lifeless heaps.

“Now!” I shouted as I triggered loot and threw myself to the ground just as the werewolves pounced on the remaining confused zombies or turned bloodred eyes on us.

Joey and William hit the ground at the same time, and William closed one hand into a fist, eyes scrunched in concentration. Two of the werewolves pounced in our direction, fangs opening wide to swallow our heads.

A flash of yellow light blasted across the clearing with the sound of a tornado wind. Grass flattened and trees creaked as the blast of light and sound tore across the space in a single heartbeat.

It passed just over my head, so close I felt the whooshing of air and the hint of a vast force tugging at my clothing. The magical force smashed into all the monsters like a giant sledgehammer. One of the zombie corpses simply exploded from the force of the spell as it catapulted everything aside like dust caught by a giant broom.

Bodies tumbled all the way across the clearing, somersaulting end over end, trailing blood from the brutal impacts, before smashing into the trees at the far side of the clearing. Several trees got ripped up by the roots, while the trunks of a few smaller ones snapped with reports like grenades detonating. The entire mess of monsters and timber disappeared into the forest in a wonderful din.

More messages flashed in my mind, but I swept them aside. Joey jumped to his feet and pointed, then swayed as if suddenly weakened. William and I jumped up too and I pushed them both toward the south trail.

“Run!”

“I triggered my spell. We need to get out of here,” Joey gasped. They both looked shaky from the mana expenditure of their trump spells.

I grabbed their arms and hauled them bodily with me, dropping Mirror Cloak as I did. Within a few steps, they recovered and ran under their own power.

Behind us, a single wolf howl rose into the night as the monsters started pulling themselves free of the tangle of bodies and trees.

“Hurry!” Joey shouted and we sped up.

An ominous whistling sound started above us. I glanced back just in time to see a fireball the size of a double-wide trailer come hurtling out of the sky and smash down like a meteor over the blasted edge of the forest, right where the werewolves were starting to move.

The explosion of light and sound and fire turned the night to day in a titanic detonation that sent us all stumbling. William toppled and rolled several times before regaining his feet.

Joey slowed, laughing and pumping his hands in triumph. “Ha! Even better than I expected.” Then his smile faded and he frowned. “Why am I not getting kill notifications?”

“Run!” I repeated, pushing them again toward the trail. “All you did was slow them down and tick them off.”