Jehaule galloped to the giant door of the archway as he could hear the werewolves crying behind him. Even his bones terrified when he could hear them breathe. He felt his life and honor in danger at the same time. No matter how forward he had placed his honor ahead of his life, he struggled to find use of honor while the werewolves chased him.

Maybe Rudolph had put too much weight on his shoulders. He had told Jehaule to keep the beasts away from Calajhans. He did not think he had succeeded in doing so.

Wherever the guards used to be had now been occupied by the werewolves and the castle did not have many places where guards were not deployed after Calajhans' ambush.

It was the fact he too had failed to consider.

Jehaule also ran into two of such werewolves. They were going elsewhere until they saw him.

With thick saliva dropping from their fangs, they ran to attack him.

Jehaule swung his sword in retaliation but did not get any of them. He could blame nothing but his clumsiness for it. And he ended up paying a price for it.

The second wolf timed its jump and brought him down.

Jehaule could smell its breath as it tried to chew on his helm. He had to take it seriously because it already had removed the emblem from the helm.

The first werewolf wasn’t uninvolved either. Jehaule considered it to be the biggest threat amongst two for its nails screeched on his breast plate.

On the next attempt, the nails went through its thickness, letting Jehaule feel tip of those nails against his chest.

Jehaule clenched his fist to the extent where his fingers cracked. Then he threw a punch at ribs of the werewolf.

He felt his fist making a dent on his rib cage. For the first time he realized the werewolves also felt pain.

Jehaule carried the same fist to another animal’s snout.

It was like punching a brick but his hands were not very different from a hammer, with those metal gloves.

He extended his arm and grasped the end of his sword by his middle and index finger. With it, Jehaule stood upright then threw all of his energy in the blow.

The sword passed through its head and chipped away its tip when it struck the floor.

Swinging it upwards, he sliced the snout apart from the second werewolf’s skull.

Another blow and the werewolf’s head opened like a pie.

He glanced at the damaged edge of his sword, wondering for how long he could keep trusting it for his life. Fighting merely six werwolves had done this to his sword.

Jehaule dropped it altogether after seeing a dozen of them grinning at the end of archway.

His surrender enticed them to attack him. They clawed the marble floor, sending eerie from his pulses.

Jehaule had given up urge to fight them but his survival instincts were well functional. Since he was closer to the door at the end of archway than them, he ran for it.

He dashed over the scattered flesh and blood drops. With each leap. He imagined those beasts inching closer to him.

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Their cries were loud and footsteps seemed to be coming just few meters behind.

Keeping his head straight, he ran towards the door and jumped in it. He held the door panels then began pushing them together while seeing the werewolves who had reached to the last quarter of archway length.

Jehaule made use of every bit of his strength remaining in his arms and slammed the door shut.

The door thumped as soon as he closed it. Jehaule stepped back and the door fighting against the force from the other side. With each hit, his confidence on the door reduced. Soon he lost faith in it.

Nevertheless, he put the iron bar across it for consolidating himself.

He sighed and landed on his knees. Removing his dented helmet, he tossed it aside.

Door panels trembled, almost pushing the nail out of its hinges.

Seeing the force hitting the wall he became more worrisome or the door panels instead of the hinges.

Being a fatigued man of big stature, his heartbeat had started to beat out of its natural rhythm.

He inhaled in order to control his heartbeat. The same reaction appeared to have controlled the smashing on the door.

Thumping reduced till they disappeared.

For a moment, Jehaule thought he had gone deaf. He got up then placed his ear on the door.

No sound.

He pushed his body away from the door and walked for picking his door.

Despite of the sudden calmness, he still could hear scratches coming from below his feet. He did not think of it worrisome until he thought the werewolves might have been digging their way from the bottom.

He walked away but the sound followed him wherever he went as if it was following his feet.

It, in fact, was following his feet.

Jehaule lifted his leg and flicked away the tiny piece of bone on his sole. Still, he heard a scratch.

This time he convinced himself it was coming from the door he had just locked. He even saw big concrete grains slipping from the door frame holder.

His heart gave a contest to his ribs when more dust fell from the slot.

Jehaule could also see some figures moving through the gap.

While wondering what might be happening, the door panel fell, lifting dust as it crashed.

Werewolves ran through the cloud of dust before it could settle.

Jehaule gasped and pushed his back on the wall with this eyes closed. He heard his helm clatter as the werewolves ran kicking it. They ran in the archway for several seconds.

After a while, the rolling helm was the only thing making sound in the archway. He dared to open his eyes a bit by clutching his chest.

The werewolves were gone.

He stretched his head at the direction to where the beasts had gone to but did not find a single of them.

Jehaule went to his helm, lifted it then put it back on his head. By the time the helm got on his head, he noticed where the archways lead to.

The throne room. Wernh'An's vessel was there.

"They went to free Wernh'An." he found him talking to himself.