Over thirty thousand White Wolf King corpses. Their simultaneous presence was a sight of such immense impact, so profoundly shocking, that it sent shivers down Mike's spine.
"What... happened here?"
A vague idea began to form in Mike's mind, but he decided to hear the White Wolf King's story first.
Unlike the deceitful vampires, the White Wolf King, being a werewolf, was more straightforward. Even if he tried to lie, he wouldn't be able to pull it off. Not everyone was like Shadow Nine, a master of historical fabrication.
"Before I became a werewolf, I was human," the White Wolf King said, settling down with his legs crossed, his gaze heavy as he surveyed his own bodies around him.
Mike took out two bottles of beer, handing one to the White Wolf King.
After a swig, the White Wolf King eyed the beer curiously but didn't comment. Instead, he continued his tale.
"I had no name. I was abandoned in the wilderness, raised by wolves."
