William was caught off guard.
It was beyond anything he had anticipated, this werewolf had somehow avoided what should have been a fatal blow. He had spent an entire day perfecting his [Piercing Attack], honing it until the charging time, once five seconds, was now compressed to just over three. The strike had been aimed at the creature's heart with deadly precision, yet instead of the satisfying thud of a kill, all he'd managed to do was graze its left arm.
Damn it, William thought. The beast was still standing. More than that, it was still dangerous.
He could feel the weight of the werewolf's power. Despite its injury, it hadn't lost its ability to fight. The muscles under its thick fur rippled with strength, and William had to stifle a curse. What kind of twisted race is this? he fumed. They were stronger, faster; everything about them seemed designed to defy logic.
