Truth and lies are like light and shadow accompanying each other everywhere, like in the immortal poem sung by the court of Bayfleet. She uncovered the false wolf and found out the real wolf, but she was never able to really arrive at the ending of the story.
Perhaps it was the knot that did the trick; Mucha seemed in no hurry to come in, but stood still and explained as if to himself:
"After I found out everything they did to Russell, I had planned to avenge Russell that first night. I could barely control myself that night, but then I smelled you—the smell of fear. You were hiding behind the door, shivering, and I felt the purification. It was you casting the spell, wasn't it? That cleared me up quite a bit."
Dill didn't want to make a fool of herself, but she still hoped the other woman could communicate: "You mean you don't want to hurt me?"
Luckily, Mucha didn't deny it: "I want to be a knight, a human, like Russell wanted."
He changed his words: "Do you remember the oath you took that day?"
Naturally, Dill couldn't possibly forget the shore of the lake colored red by the setting sun, the crisp dew, and the handsome blonde knight.
"You asked me not to turn away from you; you said you wanted to guard me."
"That vow was sincere. I want to guard you as a Silver Knight, and I will never let those villains hurt you."
Dill didn't say anything, it was her spell that had called out to the werewolf and he did save himself.
"It really is better to look like a knight, isn't it?"
The teenage werewolf tried to soothe the night's chill with a smile that revealed sharp canine teeth under his lips, but with those sweet swirls, he didn't feel half as intimidating as he did; instead, he was unusually harmless, like a puppy trying his best to be likable.
"Are you still saying no now?" The amber-gold pupils of her eyes were like crystallized summer sunlight.
Dill felt that the person in front of her had changed, yet it seemed like nothing had changed.
Dill actually had a lot of questions; she sensed that Mucha was more than just a black wolf; he was a black mist that tempted one to find out. But at the same time, her damn intuition told her, like Little Red Riding Hood constantly chasing after her werewolf grandmother to ask questions, any more questions, knowing too much, were bound to be bad.
Although the target of her mission was on the other's neck, with her current strength, even if she used her three-inch crow's mouth, it was unlikely that she would be able to talk her way out of it unless she talked about a meteorite falling from the sky.
Of course, Dill had a personal interest - just imagining herself holding the teenager's sweet head made her shiver.
With that in mind, the young witch sighed quietly and asked the goddess to forgive her for her cowardice.
Dill dropped `her stance, helpless, weak, and a little aggravated, "So, will you let me go?"
The ploy seemed to work, and the teenage werewolf cocked his head in some distress.
"Dill, you know my true form, I can't just let you go."
"So you're going to kill me?"
"No! Of course not."
Mucha desperately wanted her to understand something, but was so desperate for words that she didn't seem to know where to start.
But Dill had already unilaterally ended this conversation in her mind.
"Dill, in fact, I ... seem to be a no-brainer for this young werewolf, the little witch in front of her who only needs to be swallowed in one bite
Mucha brewed her emotions and looked up to confront a long table.
Dill gasped as she blocked the ragged hole in the door panel with the table.
"It's no way to stop me, you should know that." The teenager's clear, bright voice came from outside the door, as if it was just a harmless prank in front of her.
Dill also reminded him "kindly", "At least I can wait until morning, I wouldn't keep guarding me if I were you, Sir Elder has already gone to get help."
Outside the door, Mucha paused for a moment.
Just when Dill thought the other party was stunned by herself, she heard him murmur in a small voice, "... You may not be able to wait for him."
"I thought you said you wouldn't hurt innocent people?!" Dill was a little annoyed to realize that she was still putting a strange amount of trust in him.
"Dill, he's a man-wolf."
Indoors and outdoors the room was silent, the only true human being was silently digesting this message
Walking a man-wolf, coming a werewolf, she wouldn't be surprised if the Moon Goddess came knocking on her door next, God knows what other ghosts are in this town?
As if she was afraid of Dill's misunderstanding, Mucha immediately explained, ''He was bitten by a red wolf when he was worshipping Follettine, in order to get healthy. Even so, Elder was a very weak man-wolf, and he wanted to find werewolves that he could turn to, just as it was the season of werewolf legends again in his hometown of Jonestown"
His usual soft tone rose a bit in contempt, "Only now that the full moon was still some distance away, his power was so weakened that he didn't immediately realize who I was, or even try to stop me. It was only on the first night's night patrol when he ventured out to find the werewolf that he realized who I was."
Dill remembered tonight's prayer vigil at the sanctuary, and it turned out that the two wolves had been right in there one on one, Mucha sniffing out the drink, and Elder had gone along with it and screwed up Shulk's calculations for them.
A man-wolf, a werewolf, plus a large group of human-faced fake werewolves, out of the valley landed the first village is a lively wolf den, next time is not she want to directly single out the wolf king? Thinking about the [Goddess' Expectation], Dill is already worried about her future.
But there is something more important right now.
Mucha's calm tone hid a raging anger underneath, "Until tonight, I couldn't stand that garbage anymore, if I have to protect that herd of beasts, then I'd rather be a beast."
Beyond the door was his heavy breathing, his flawless silver armor was also a heavy piece of human skin, he disguised, lurked, and finally bared his fangs to his enemies at the last moment.
"Dill, it's over, come with me."
The sound of the wind piggybacked on an unusual scent, Mucha took a deep breath as if reminding himself to stay awake. His footsteps were extremely light, and he came to the door so silently that not even a speck of dust was disturbed.
"I didn't fully confide in you, but I never lied to you either, it's true, that day when you fell from the apple tree, I ..."
He couldn't forget, there hadn't even been an apple on that tree, and he followed the smell of rotting bones with disheartened disbelief, and the next blink of an eye, the dew, the green leaves, the apples, and the crisp moonlight, all of the vibrant and fragrant scents and colors fell into his arms unawares.
Not wanting to let her go.
A silent breeze burrowed into the crevice, blowing away the circle of salt grains, and there was a breach in the knot, and the teenager reached out his fingers, feeling only a thin tingle of electricity, which then died away into smoke, and his hand passed through the door panel with no effort at all.
He eased his movements as much as he could, while also carefully controlling his breathing.
A mere drop of the young girl's blood made the beast hungry, a fragrance like no other, a different level of red, a brightly dripping apple or a dew-dotted rose, the only scent in this rotting, stinking land.
Of course, perhaps like Russell's ever-present admonition that the devil was always murmuring in his ear, it might be another lie that he had lied to himself, just an insatiable craving that stemmed from the instinct of appetite.
Mucha could almost feel the sting of canines against his lower lip.
Russell had always told him to be patient, but he didn't want to hold back now.
The teenager opened the door softly.
An empty room with only a few drops of blood on the floor, the fresh color and smell signaling that the person hadn't been gone long, and that she had deliberately squeezed through the old wound to make herself think she was still there.
Just like the first time they met, that witty and cute young girl always escaped faster than a deer, he shouldn't be surprised.
Mucha closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the scent of fresh blood overflow his nostrils and turn into golden, sweet, honey-like magic.
Opening his eyes again, the molten golden magic flame completely burned dry the last trace of clarity, and the shadows on the ground began to twist and elongate.