Single Part
The rain still fell in torrents, pounding the ground and turning the forest into chaos. The trees around bent under the force of the wind, their branches whipping the air as if trying to break free from the storm. The sound of the rain was deafening, drowning out any other noise the forest might produce. The only thing that interrupted the absolute darkness of the overcast sky was the full moon, whose pale light managed to break through the clouds, illuminating the landscape like a distant beacon in the midst of the downpour.
Pallas stood under a large tree, looking up, trying to locate the moon among the turbulent clouds. Water ran down his face and pooled in the folds of his cloak, which was soaked and heavy. He narrowed his eyes, struggling to focus on the only point of light in the somber sky. For a moment, he stood there, motionless, as if seeking some kind of guidance in the faint and distant light.
"This storm... it's almost like the island itself is against us." Pallas murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. Finally, he tore his gaze away from the moon and turned to Don, who stood just behind him, his eyes full of determination.
"We need to find that monster quickly. We can't let it stay at large."
Don, soaked to the bone, nodded firmly. His voice was deep but carried a tone of urgency. "I agree. This storm is only making things worse. If we don't act fast, we'll lose any chance of tracking it."
The two began to walk, their heavy steps making noise in the thick mud. Around them, the guards struggled to keep their torches lit, but the flames flickered against the wind and the relentless rain. Some of the marquise's men, equally drenched, followed in silence, their faces grim as they advanced through the dense forest alongside the wall.
The rain turned the terrain into a treacherous swamp. Each step felt like a challenge, with the ground sinking under their feet and the undergrowth trying to grasp their boots. The sound of water hitting the leaves, mixed with the rustle of rain cloaks and the occasional grumble from one of the men, created a tense and oppressive atmosphere.
"Where is that opening you mentioned, Pallas?" one of the guards asked, his voice nearly swallowed by the storm. He was visibly nervous, his eyes searching the shadows for any sign of imminent danger.
"I don't know. We're here to find it." Pallas replied, his voice firm but with a hint of concern. He knew the group was tired and tense, but they couldn't afford to slow down.
"Stay alert. If that opening exists, we don't know what else might be lurking around here."
They continued on, the colossal wall rising to their right, like an imposing and silent presence that seemed to watch their every move. The rain ran down the ancient stones, creating small rivers that flowed down the structure and mixed with the mud below.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of walking, Pallas raised his hand, signaling the group to stop. He stared intently at a section of the wall, where the flickering torchlight revealed something unusual. The rain still fell heavily, but the crack in the wall was clearly visible.
"There." Pallas said, pointing to the opening that stood out among the stones, now partially obscured by the water cascading over it. The crack was wide, with jagged edges and parts of the wall crumbling around it. It looked like a scar in the very fabric of the structure, something that shouldn't exist.
Don was the first to approach, his expression serious as he examined the crack closely. "This is... much larger than I imagined. It doesn't seem natural. How could something do this?"
Pallas stepped closer, rain dripping from his hood as he leaned in for a better look. "This wasn't done by anything common, that's for sure. Whatever came through here did so with tremendous magic... and on purpose."
One of the marquise's men, his face twisted in disbelief, shook his head, incredulous. "The wall was built to be indestructible. How is this possible?"
Don ran his hand along the jagged edge of the crack, where the stones seemed to have been torn outward. "This wasn't done from the inside out... it was done to escape."
Don's words left the group even more silent as they all pondered what could be at large now. The storm around them seemed to intensify, as if the very sky was responding to the discovery they had made.
Pallas stepped away from the crack and looked at his men, his words carrying a commanding tone. "We need to track this thing before it finds a new shelter. We can't let it escape. And we have to be quick; the rain might wash away any traces it left."
The guards and the marquise's men lined up, ready to move forward, but the tension in the air was almost palpable. The rain pounded relentlessly against their armor, and the wind howled through the trees.
Suddenly, one of the guards lunged forward with a swift and violent movement, striking one of the marquise's men with the side of his sword. The impact was brutal, sending the man flying backward, where he landed heavily on the ground, cut in half. The guard looked around, his eyes filled with suspicion and malice.
"Kill them all!" Pallas shouted, his voice cutting through the noise of the storm. But before he could advance, a deep, guttural sound filled the air. One of the marquise's men, still standing, began to tremble uncontrollably, his body convulsing in an unnatural way.
Don, always alert, drew his sword and stepped back, preparing himself. "Get ready... this is going to be bloody..."
The screams of the marquise's men echoed in the darkness, and their bodies began to contort, their bones audibly cracking. Within seconds, their human forms began to unravel, skin tearing and muscles swelling grotesquely. Amidst the painful metamorphosis, thick fur began to sprout, and their once-human faces elongated into snouts filled with sharp fangs. Their eyes, once human, now glowed with a beastly fury.
"They're monsters!" one of the guards shouted, retreating in panic as the beasts rose, much larger and more threatening than before. The rain seemed to do little to hinder the transformation as the werewolves stood, their gigantic, bestial forms looming in the dim light.
One of the werewolves let out a ferocious howl, and the group attacked almost simultaneously. Pallas, with quick reflexes, dodged a paw that slashed through the air where he had been a second earlier. The strike left deep marks on the tree behind him, indicating the creatures' destructive strength.
"Formation!" Pallas ordered, spinning his sword and positioning himself defensively. The guards quickly regrouped, raising their shields in unison as the werewolves approached.
Don, always at Pallas's side, blocked an attack with his sword, the impact reverberating through his arms. The creature snarled, trying to tear the blade from Don's hand, but he held his ground and counterattacked, slashing deep into the creature's flank. The werewolf roared in pain, retreating briefly, but its ferocity didn't diminish.
Another werewolf lunged, leaping with terrifying agility. One of the guards tried to block it with his shield, but the creature was too fast. Its claws shredded the shield as if it were made of paper, penetrating the guard's flesh, who screamed in agony before being knocked to the ground.
Seeing the werewolf's vulnerability after the attack, Pallas seized the opportunity. With a precise movement, he swung his sword in a deadly arc and drove it deep into the monster's neck. Dark blood spurted from the wound as the creature collapsed to the ground, trembling before finally lying still.
"Another one on the left!" Don shouted, dodging a bite aimed at his head. He counterattacked, but the creature dodged with unexpected speed, its fangs snapping dangerously close.
Pallas quickly joined Don, both now fighting side by side against the werewolf. Don distracted the creature with a series of quick strikes, forcing it to retreat, while Pallas positioned himself for the final blow. With a shout of effort, Pallas slashed diagonally, hitting the werewolf square in the chest. The monster howled, staggering before finally collapsing, its body convulsing in its last moments of life.
Another guard, on the edge of the group, managed to dodge a claw swipe aimed at his face but was violently pushed back by an approaching werewolf. The monster moved in for the kill, but Don reacted quickly, decapitating the werewolf with a clean strike, his expression grim as the creature's body fell heavily to the ground.
One by one, the werewolves were brought down, but the fight was fierce and relentless. Blood mixed with rain and mud, creating a horrific sight as the werewolves' bodies fell around them. The battle dragged on for long minutes, but the guards' numbers and the skill of Pallas and Don prevailed.
Finally, only one werewolf remained standing, its chest heaving with exhaustion and rage. It looked around, seeing the bodies of its fallen comrades, and a flash of fear passed through its beastly eyes. With a final roar, it turned and fled into the darkness of the forest, disappearing into the storm.
"Should we go after it?" one of the guards asked, his breath heavy and eyes full of adrenaline.
Pallas, still holding his sword, looked at Don. "No. It won't dare come back anytime soon. And we're all exhausted. We need to tend to our wounded and regroup."
Don nodded, wiping the blood from his blade. "We need to get out of here. We don't know if there are more of them around, and this place has already caused us enough trouble for today."