My Werewolf System

Chapter 1495: The Iron Mask Falls

The moment the iron mask shattered and fell away, Innu froze. The face beneath, elongated by fur and the wolf’s snout yet still carrying unmistakable features, struck him harder than any claw.

There was no doubt. This wasn’t just another Lupus warrior. This was Blake’s father.

Memories flooded back, quick and sharp like blades. Back when they were Altered Hunters in training, he and Blake had sparred with the man more than once. His movements, his precision, it all matched. That was why the clash earlier had felt so eerily familiar.

Now the truth weighed on Innu’s chest like iron.

It makes sense now, he thought grimly. Ylva... did she manage to turn him? Was he never really dead back then?

If that was true, then Blake’s father wasn’t just a werewolf. He was a veteran fighter who had retained his years of training and skill, except now those skills were fused with the brutal strength and speed of a transformed beast.

Which meant he wasn’t just another opponent. He was a nightmare.

But another question clawed at Innu’s mind, sharper than fear: Do we even want to kill him?

If Ylva and Lupus were defeated, if they could turn the tide of this war, perhaps there was a way to bring Blake’s father back, back to the Howlers, back to his son. Maybe, just maybe, they didn’t need to end him here.

Whether Blake’s father would even want to live on as a werewolf after years of hunting Altereds was another matter entirely. Still, the thought was there. The possibility.

But one look at the battlefield reminded Innu just how fragile that hope was. They were already struggling to fight him, and even surviving this fight without dying was proving near impossible. To hold back, to fight while trying to save him, that was almost laughable.

If the others were here... if we could last the whole time... maybe it’d be possible, Innu told himself, though the doubt in his chest made the words feel hollow.

His thoughts broke when he noticed movement from the ground. A massive white form that he had feared was already dead shifted slightly, blood-stained fur dragging against stone.

“Wait... he’s not dead?” Innu gasped aloud, voice cracking.

The great white polar bear stirred. Apollo placed a paw-like hand against the ground and pushed himself upright, staggering, his broad chest heaving. Crimson rivulets dripped steadily from the wound across his torso, matting the fur.

“I’ve got a strong hide,” Apollo grunted, forcing a grin despite the pain. “And a stronger wall of muscle. His claws pierced the skin, sure, the attack damn near tore me in half, but it’s not fatal.”

It was brave talk, but Innu could see the truth: Apollo’s body trembled with strain. His healing factor, the miraculous ability that had saved him before, was already spent. He had triggered it once against Lupus, and such a gift could not be used twice. This time, his body would have to bear the damage on its own.

Even so, Apollo’s eyes burned with determination as they locked on Blake’s father. The mask was gone, but the presence remained monstrous.

“This werewolf...” Apollo muttered, tightening his fists, “is a lot less frightening than going up against Lupus.”

Innu, watching the two titans square off again, made his own decision. He turned sharply, spotting a nearby werewolf in mid-swing at a battered Howler. With a leap, he slammed both axes down into its skull, the blades cracking bone with a sickening crunch.

“Keep him busy for as long as you can!” Innu shouted to Apollo, panting as he wrenched his weapons free. “I’ll clear the others and gather energy. Buy some time, I’ll find a way to help you deal with him!”

Apollo didn’t need to answer. The snarl twisting across his muzzle was answer enough.

The iron-masked werewolf, Blake’s father, charged. His movements were sharp, honed, nothing like the wild, feral lunges of the others. Apollo braced, lifting both massive arms to block. But at the last second, the wolf leapt, claws outstretched, raking down Apollo’s back in a deep slash.

The polar bear roared, spinning, but the werewolf had already redirected. One claw swiped, knocking Apollo’s counterstrike aside, the blow angled perfectly to force his guard open. He wasn’t just fast. He was precise. Every motion was the mark of a man trained to fight enemies stronger than himself.

Altered Hunter instincts, Innu realized with dread. He’s still fighting like one of them... except now he has a werewolf’s body backing it up.

A jab came, swift and vicious. The claw dug into Apollo’s arm, splitting flesh in a clean puncture that sent blood running freely. The polar bear staggered, but his eyes narrowed.

A spark flickered across his fur. Then another. In an instant, electricity crackled across Apollo’s massive frame, dancing over his muscles and exploding outward in a sudden shockwave. The current arced into Blake’s father, stunning him just long enough for Apollo to land a heavy counterstrike.

The polar bear’s paw smashed across the werewolf’s face, sending him reeling back a step.

“I was a fighter in the AFC!” Apollo roared, chest heaving as arcs of lightning still leapt from his fur. “One of the top ranked! Back then I was limited to my elementals, but now...” He raised his fists, his stance steady despite the wounds. “Now you’re not the only trained fighter in this match!”

He meant every word. He had bled for every victory in the cage, had faced men who were faster, stronger, and more vicious than he was. This fight was no different.

Meanwhile, Innu was carving his way through the battlefield. His axes sang through the air, fueled by his Qi, each kill siphoning more energy into him through the artifacts’ unique effect. Werewolves fell, one after another, as he forced himself forward.

Each drop of energy gathered mattered. Each ounce brought him closer to a plan that might save Blake’s father instead of killing him outright.

‘Just a little more,’ he thought, his arms aching, sweat pouring into his eyes. ‘If I can gather enough energy... maybe there’s still a way.’

The battlefield roared around them, steel clashing with claws, roars mingling with cries of pain. In the center of it all, Apollo and the iron-masked wolf tore into each other again, two warriors refusing to yield.

And somewhere behind it all, Innu’s hope burned faintly: a desperate chance to save Blake’s father, even if it seemed impossible.

*****

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