The forest thinned into a scarred valley.
Smoke curled into the sky from iron chimneys and burning braziers. Huge trees had been bent into crude palisades, and thick bone-marked banners hung from jagged stakes. The scent of blood, fur, and ash filled the air.
They had arrived.
The Werewolf Village.
Unlike Hollowfall, this place didn't try to hide its savagery. Heads of beasts and men hung as trophies. Bones lined the perimeter. Massive silhouettes prowled atop walls, muscular werewolves in iron-plated leathers, their yellow eyes glowing with feral curiosity.
A horn blew.
Then came the howls.
One by one, villagers emerged from huts and platforms, climbing down from trees or stepping out of stone shelters. Dozens. Maybe hundreds.
Snarling faces turned to smiles.
Children barked excitedly and ran.
"THE BLACK WOLF!!"
"The Monster Protector!"
"It's him!"
They howled in celebration, voices uniting into a wild chorus of welcome.
Axel walked forward.
Calm. Still. Controlled.
He held Kyra's small hand in his gloved one.
He didn't wave. Didn't speak. Just moved forward with the same steel in his gaze that made armies break.
A werewolf matron stepped forward, massive and scarred.
She bowed low.
"Black Wolf," she said with reverence. "Welcome to our den. The White Halo honors us."
Axel nodded faintly.
"Shelter. Food. Just for the night."
"Of course."
As the others moved forward, Sylthea stayed close to Korrak. Her eyes were narrowed. His brow furrowed.
"…He didn't smile," Sylthea muttered.
Korrak grunted. "Didn't even nod at the pups cheering for him."
Sylthea glanced at Kyra, still gripping Axel's hand, smiling softly.
"…He's colder," she said. "Like something's been carved out."
They walked deeper into the village.
And that's when they saw them.
Cages.
Lined along the wall.
Stacked. Rusted.
Inside, humans.
Some alive. Some broken. Some whispering. Some wide-eyed and feral.
And near them, carriages rolled by, filled with limbs, bloody tools, and sacks of skin and teeth.
One man inside a cage looked up, bloody and bruised. His eyes widened with hope.
"Wait...! Axel?!"
Others turned. Hope bloomed. Relief. Recognition.
"It's him! He's here to save us!"
"The Exterminator...!"
But then...
They saw what he wore.
The black wolf helm.
The runes.
The little goblin girl holding his hand.
And the werewolves bowing to him.
The man in the cage slumped.
His voice cracked with betrayal.
"…You're not human anymore."
Axel didn't even glance at them.
He walked on, silent.
Not even his footsteps acknowledged them.
Brakka followed behind, chewing on piece of bark like nothing had happened. She didn't care. She never cared about human cages. Her eyes flicked toward Axel once.
He looked away.
She looked again.
He peeked back.
They both blushed.
She turned faster than a whip and stormed ahead.
Korrak grunted. "This place smells of rot."
Sylthea whispered, "Axel doesn't even flinch at it."
They then entered a inn.
The inn was made of stone and twisted roots, a den-like structure with curved walls and flickering bone lanterns. Warm firelight cast long shadows on furs, tapestries, and claw-marked furniture. The scent of grilled meat and sweet smoke filled the air.
A dozen werewolves raised their mugs and howled in respect as Axel entered.
"BLACK WOLF!"
"The White Halo is honored!"
"May your claws never dull!"
The innkeeper, a tall werewolf female with a half-shaved muzzle and a branded eye, greeted them with a fanged smile.
"This table's yours, great ones," she said, pulling out a bone-carved bench. "What'll you have for the feast?"
Brakka sat with a heavy thud, tossing her broken sword to the floor.
"I'll take the tastiest thing you got."
The innkeeper's smile widened.
"That would be the slow-roasted human legs, glazed in blood honey."
Brakka blinked.
"...Then I'll have that."
Sylthea and Korrak froze.
Kyra tilted her head.
Axel remained still, almost bored. "I'll take smoked direboar strips."
Kyra raised a hand. "Same! But no onions."
Sylthea's voice was sharp. "Venison steak. Medium rare."
Korrak muttered. "Just charred wolf lizard. No sauce."
The innkeeper nodded and vanished into the smoky backroom.
A moment later, sizzling plates arrived.
Brakka's was... unmistakable. A full roasted leg. Human. Glazed, spiced, sliced, bone still attached.
She bit in with an audible crunch and sigh.
"Damn. You were right. This is the tastiest."
Sylthea stared.
Korrak grimaced.
She chewed happily for a moment, until she noticed their expressions.
Her brows lowered.
"…Why are you two looking at me like that?"
Sylthea folded her arms. "Because you're eating Axel's kind. Right in front of him."
Brakka froze, mid-chew.
The meat stopped tasting good.
Kyra blinked. "Oh."
Brakka looked down at the half-eaten leg in her hand. Then slowly pushed the plate away. Her ears drooped. She didn't meet Axel's gaze.
"I forgot... you were human," she muttered.
"…I didn't mean to insult you."
She turned her head, ashamed.
"Do you… now see me as some disgusting monster."
But Axel didn't flinch. He didn't even look upset.
Instead, he calmly took a bite of his own food and said, "It's fine."
Brakka blinked at him.
"I know ogres find human meat tasty. So do werewolves, and a lot of trolls. That's just biology."
He looked over at Sylthea and Kyra.
"And I know why they can't stomach it. Elves, druids, even some beastkin… their bodies reject human flesh because of how similar their neural tissues are to humans. Tastes like poison."
He turned to Korrak.
"But you're a troll. Why don't you eat human meat?"
Korrak shrugged, eyes down.
"It is tasty," he admitted. "But… I can't stomach where it comes from."
Axel nodded and returned to eating.
No judgment. No emotion.
Just truth.
The table slowly returned to normal. The others continued their meals. But an unease lingered in the air, quieter than before.
Night fell.
The rooms were small, carved into the walls like burrows. Sylthea and Brakka shared one. Korrak and Axel another.
Korrak was already snoring, curled up like a boulder.
Axel sat upright in the dark, stripped down to his undersuit. His armor, the Black Wolf, lay dormant in gauntlet-form around his wrist, glowing faintly, like an animal in sleep.
Kyra was curled beside him, her head against his chest.
"…Axel?" she whispered.
"Mm?"
"Why don't you care about humans anymore?"
He paused.
Then answered flatly, "Because they're the real monsters."
Kyra raised her head. "How so?"
"They enslave, torture, and murder monsters. Not for protection. For sport. For greed. For fun."
His eyes didn't blink.
"They called us monsters. Then became the worst ones."
Kyra was quiet.
Then she whispered softly, "Not all humans are evil. Not all of them are monsters. Some are innocent. Some were just caught in the mess."
Axel didn't respond right away.
His lips tightened.
For the first time in a long time… doubt crept in.
He closed his eyes.
Sleep took him.
But not Kyra.
She waited until his breathing steadied.
Then slowly slipped out from under the furs.
Barefoot, she padded quietly to the door.
It creaked open.
And shut.
But not without notice.
Inside Axel's gauntlet, a low growl stirred.
"Vital signs detected. Kyra is on the move. Alone."