Two months prior.

The stench of blood flooded throughout the entire estate. Large gashes ran from one side of the corner of the building to the next. Its wonderful garden filled with all sorts of exotic plants were soiled with corpses and entrails.

His once silver fur had been dyed red. His body was drenched in the same foul smell as he turned towards brave individuals confronting him.

“S-stop!”

On whose authority? The bloodied Lycanthrope pounced on the guards and with quick swipes, cut them up into strips of fleshy ribbons.

“P-please! If you spare me, I’ll give whatever you want!”

He kept his cold eyes on the noble cowering before him and thought for a moment. After getting tired of thinking, he raised his leg over the frightened nobleman and pushed his entire weight down.

Pop. Crack. The bone crushing snap echoed through the halls.

He grabbed the crippled noblemen by the back of the head and dragged his prisoner down the hallways. On the way, his impulses had gotten to him as sometimes, an uncontrollable urge to smash the prisoner’s face into the wall erupted now and then.

The building quaked each time the prisoner’s face plunged into its walls until the Lycanthrope marched to where his companions waited for him.

“Did ya find Ma?”

His comrades held mixed expressions as they briefly exchanged looks and turned back to the towering Lycanthrope dragging a half dead noble by the tail.

The group closed their eyes expecting him to lash out at them. Instead, one of them felt a gently touch over the shoulder.

“You guys did as much as you could. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.” The blood drenched Lycanthrope dropped the nobleman. “Hold him down. I want to see Ma’s body before I make a choice.”

He shoved the large steel gates aside, stepping into the chamber filled of filth and death. In the middle of all, a skylight directed moonlight in the center of the place.

It casted its mysterious light at an arm with all the fingers bent in the wrong way and a leg of an elderly Lycanthrope poking out of a bloodied wooden crate. Small maggots and the likes crawled over the butchered corpse.

It must’ve been left in this state weeks ago.

His nose confirmed a familiar scent. It was her.

“Ma…”

He dropped onto his knees, his sharp claws fell on the ground.

“Because of me, you were… I’m sorry.”

Behind the crate, a message written in blood was painted on the wall. It said ‘Do not look for him!‘. And because he only wanted to repay his debt to a friend, he was punished to have a family taken from him.

He slowly rose and approached the bloodied crate, lamenting the death of the one who raised him. He offered a silent prayer.

After a moment of silence, someone knocked on the door.

“Silver, we’re all grieving for your loss, but we should finish up soon before enemy reinforcements arrive.”

“Alright. Bring him in. I’ll make this quick.”

At Douglas’ approval, his comrades tossed the prisoner into the chamber. The Mixrel crawled on his arms as his legs were beyond reparable and desperately banged on the door shut tight.

Douglas snatched the prisoner by the neck and put him at eye level.

His fangs were ready to snap at the Prisoner, but he was able to resist the urge. He took a calming breath and looked straight into the prisoner’s eyes.

“Relax, friend. I’ve only got a few questions you need to answer to the best of your ability, and I’ll be on my way.”

“P-please, spare me! My body hurts all over. H-help me!”

“After you answer my questions, okay? You have my word. I may even do something about your broken legs too.”

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The prisoner nodded and Douglas stretched a slitted grin.

“Good. Who paid you guys to kidnap Ma?”

“T-the Merchants did!”

“As in the Council? All of them?”

“Y-yes! The Council!”

There were some truths and lie hidden in the prisoner’s words, but he was given information pointing him to the culprits. That was enough.

As for which members of the council, it would be best to rid them all.

“And what about Rogus? Heard anything of the name lately?”

“I-I remember the Merchants were in talks to target him!”

“Has he been arrested, executed, captured?”

“None I heard…”

There was hope. Douglas looked pleased after hearing his brother, the remaining family, could still be alive. After all, the contact he sent must’ve made contacted or have secured Rogus to bring him back.

“You have been most helpful. As promised, I will spare you.”

“T-thank-!”

The prisoner’s appreciation was cut short when he felt the tightness around his neck growing stronger.

He met Douglas’ piercing amber eyes gazing deep into his soul as the silver furred Lycanthrope transformed under the influence of the moonlight shining brightly above him.

Douglas’ snout grew, his claws extended, his form bulked up as his entire body nearly doubled in size into a bestial monstrosity.

“Now that I think about it, there’s a hint of Ma’s blood I smell on ya. Do ya know we Lycanthropes have noses we use ta know what someone is feeling right now? I can smell the guilt, liar, fear, and regret.”

“But you promised…!”

“What about my Ma? Have ya thought of sparin’ her when she pled?”

“I-I did!”

“Then why did she end up like dat?” Douglas clenched his grip. “Ya guys could’ve targeted me instead. Instead, ya made a big mistake after taking the only person who can calm me down.”

“It wasn’t me! It was the others!”

The Prisoner kept throwing excuses, thinking Douglas’ hatred had lessened as anger slowly faded from his expression. Unfortunately, the Lycanthrope reached the state of tranquility.

“Ah… I can no longer hear ya. I’m so angry I’m deafened by my emotions.”

The Prisoner came to realize what his fate would be. His screams would only be muffled by the growing claw. He desperately scratched Douglas’ hand, but to no avail, the fingers only seemed to coil tighter.

His head felt like it was about to burst open from the pressure squeezing him.

“Tell ya what? Before I can’t talk, I’ll say dis. First, I’m gonna to break every bone in yer body. Then I’ll tear off yer limbs while ya scream ta lure in reinforcements. If yer still alive after dat, I’ll hang ya at the face of the estate as a sign ta anyone who dares cross me.”

The Prisoner’s expression filled with dread as Douglas pinched a finger. Without warning, a ribbon of blood trailed in the air and his finger was torn off.

“Oops. Oh well. Dere’s more.”

“A-ah! AHHHH!”

Douglas’ accomplices heard a banshee like cry from behind the dungeon door. The unruly screech was accompanied by numerous bone snapping pops, cracking crunches echoing throughout the air. It went on for a long, long while.

Then, it went eerie silent until the dungeon doors creaked. A figure thrown like a rag doll tumbled out of the room.

Every limb in the Prisoner’s body flopped like a dead fish. His fingers, toes and limbs were seen bent backwards. His tail, whiskers and ears were plucked out. His fangs were shattered. He muttered something but no one could make sense of his gibberish.

Douglas had surgically pummeled the Prisoner into an unrecognizable slob without killing him. He stomped out, glaring at unfortunate soul who he had just tossed out with a snarl still on his face.

“Hang him. And make it look grand.” Douglas commanded and turned to one of his subordinates. “Ilbus, give me a report. Did you find names?”

At his beckon, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkest corner of the room. “I couldn’t find a name, but it appears from the evidence all or some of the Merchant Council paid these bandits to do so. Also, I can hear reinforcements docking. They’re boarding our ship as we speak.”

“It’s a good thing Scarl suggested we offloaded everyone off the decoy.” Douglas turned to his accomplices. “Say, in a battle, how much men would all of you be worth?”

“We each could take down twenty at most. With the exception of me, of course.” Scarl lethargically waved his staff. “But if it were high ranking officers or experienced mercenaries, maybe ten.”

“Pilus, [Tyrant Fang] please.”

“Here boss.”

A large oversized Mixrel waddled up to Douglas holding a large finned blade with sharp sickle like blades at the end of each tip. [Tyrant Fang], a weapon belonging to his father who led the pirates to once cause chaos and mayhem throughout Pamalyra.

“Zicron, I have understood what my father’s last words meant.”

“And what is that?” A striped Lycanthrope looked up as he was oiling his weapons.

“People look up to heroes because it is a convenient tool to get rid of threats. Once that threat is gone, people fear the heroes because of the strength they possess. They will stupidly do whatever it takes to ensure their peace instead of the peace.”

Douglas’ close companions stood to attention as they saw flames rising from their ship.

“I see. Their peace needs to go, right?”

“They poked at the sleeping beasts long enough. It’s time to bite back. Hable, gather everyone and get a letter stating my intentions to be ready and sent to Tama. Let Fang, Sahzar and Radhr know to meet us. It’s time to reunite the boys. They’ve been waiting on this for too long.”

“Got it boss!”

Under his order, a small army of sobered up sailors gathered in front of Douglas.

“Listen fellas. I’m about to do something I will regret. It will flip Pamalyra upside down. I won’t ask you to join me. If you want to leave, there is a small ship at the back right now. You don’t have a lot of time so get to it.”

There was a moment of silence as no one moved. Douglas sailors all wore the battle hardened expressions, eagerly waiting for his order.

“We’re stayin, Silver. Ma’s like a mom to us too. To see what they done to her makes my blood boil.”

“We’re going to make them pay a hundred folds!”

“We’re all with you till the end. Death to the council!”

“Yeah! It’s time to tear the Merchants down from their high horse. They’ve played king long enough!”

An explosive war cry erupted at the grieving of Ma. Pamalyrian sailors gathered under Douglas’ banner raised their weapons to the air, chanting the downfall of the Merchant Council.

“Thank you, all of you. It gives me great pleasure to see I have such wonderful friends.” Douglas aimed [Tyrant Fang] at the enemy ships. “We’re experts at dousing the flames revolutions. How are we to start one?”