Elizabeth was no stranger to bloodshed or the cries of desperate kings. She had spent years wandering from one cursed land to another, her name whispered in fear and reverence. Wherever there was a werewolf outbreak, there was Elizabeth armed, determined, and ruthless. She wasn't in it for glory or gold. Her mission was deeply personal, though she rarely spoke of it. To her, werewolves weren't just beasts; they were walking tragedies, cursed souls who brought destruction wherever they went.
Elizabeth's reputation had grown so large that even rulers hesitated to summon her, knowing she brought death as her only solution. Yet when the letter from King Alden of Gama arrived, Elizabeth knew she couldn't ignore it. Gama wasn't just another kingdom. It was a land renowned for peace, a place that never dabbled in wars or dark magic. If a werewolf plague had reached even Gama, something far worse than she'd encountered before must be at play.
The letter was brief but powerful.
"Elizabeth, Slayer of the Cursed, we call upon you in our darkest hour. The werewolf scourge has taken root in Gama. My people are dying, my armies are crumbling, and I am running out of time. I beg of youif there is any humanity left in this kingdom, help us before we are lost forever."
Elizabeth read the letter twice, though she didn't need to. The words haunted her, not because they were unfamiliar, but because they were painfully familiar. Every werewolf outbreak followed the same pattern: denial, panic, and then a desperate plea for help. By the time someone reached out to her, the damage was already catastrophic.
Still, something about King Alden's tone struck her. He didn't just ask for her help he begged for it, not as a ruler but as a man who had exhausted every option.
With a sigh, Elizabeth tightened the straps of her armor and slung her silver-forged weapons across her back. "Seven days," she murmured, calculating how quickly she could reach Gama. "I'll be there."
The road to Gama was long and treacherous, but Elizabeth moved swiftly, her pace relentless. She passed villages that bore the scars of werewolf attacks: abandoned homes, claw marks on wooden doors, and bloodstains in the dirt. Survivors looked at her with hollow eyes, their faces etched with fear. Some begged her to help their villages, but she pressed on. The source of the infection was in Gama, and that was where she needed to be.
When she finally reached the kingdom's capital, the sight took her breath awaynot because it was beautiful, but because of how far it had fallen. The city walls were scarred with claw marks, and the air was heavy with smoke and decay. Streets that should have been filled with bustling merchants and cheerful citizens were eerily quiet. Those who remained alive peered out from behind barricaded doors, their faces pale and gaunt.
Elizabeth dismounted her horse and approached the palace gates, where weary guards eyed her warily. She announced her name, and the doors swung open almost immediately. It seemed even in their despair, the people of Gama knew who she was.
King Alden looked nothing like the proud rulers Elizabeth had encountered before. He was a shadow of himselfhis face lined with exhaustion, his once-strong frame hunched from the weight of his kingdom's suffering. He rose from his throne as she entered, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear.
"Elizabeth," he said, his voice hoarse. "Thank you for coming."
"I'm here to kill werewolves," she replied bluntly, her tone devoid of ceremony. "Tell me what I need to know."
The king gestured for her to sit, and for the next hour, he and his advisors recounted the horrors that had overtaken Gama. The infection had started in the border villages and spread rapidly. Entire towns had been wiped out, and the survivors had either fled or turned into beasts themselves. The army had tried to fight back, but traditional weapons were useless against the cursed.
"Every full moon, their numbers grow," Alden said, his voice trembling. "If we can't stop this, there won't be a kingdom left to save."
Elizabeth leaned forward, her sharp eyes locking onto his. "Who started it?"
The room fell silent. The advisors exchanged uneasy glances until one finally spoke. "There are whispers… of Ostonia."
"Ostonia?" Elizabeth's brow furrowed. She knew of the northern kingdom, infamous for its ruthless tactics and dark dealings. "You think they unleashed this on purpose?"
"We don't know," Alden admitted. "But the first attacks came from the north. If Ostonia is behind this, we're already outmatched."
Elizabeth stood, her jaw set. "Then we'll cut off the infection at its source."
Over the next few days, Elizabeth trained Gama's remaining soldiers, teaching them how to fight werewolves effectively. She showed them how to forge silver weapons and where to strike to kill the creatures quickly. But she also warned them of the cost.
"Once a person turns," she said, her voice firm, "there's no coming back. Mercy will only get you killed."
The soldiers listened in silence, their faces grim. Many of them had lost friends and family to the curse. Some struggled with the idea of killing former loved ones, but Elizabeth had no time for sentiment.
"If you hesitate, you'll die," she said coldly. "And if you die, they'll turn you into one of them."
The first night of Elizabeth's plan was brutal. As the full moon rose, the werewolves came out in force, their howls echoing through the city. Elizabeth led a team of soldiers into the streets, her silver sword flashing in the moonlight.
The battle was chaotic. The werewolves were fast and vicious, their claws tearing through flesh and armor alike. But Elizabeth was faster. She moved with deadly precision, cutting down the beasts one by one. Her soldiers followed her lead, their fear replaced by determination.
By dawn, the streets were littered with the bodies of the slain. The survivors looked to Elizabeth with newfound respect, but she remained stoic. This was only the beginning.
Elizabeth knew that killing the infected wasn't enough. To save Gama, she needed to find the source of the curse and destroy it. With a small team of warriors, she ventured north, toward the border where the infection had begun.
The journey was harrowing. The group was ambushed several times, but Elizabeth's leadership kept them alive. Finally, they reached an abandoned village where the trail led to a chilling discovery: Ostonia had unleashed the curse deliberately.
Arthur, the beta werewolf who had spread the infection, awaited them. He was no mindless beast he was calculating and cruel, a living weapon sent to destroy Gama.
The fight against Arthur was unlike anything Elizabeth had faced before. He was stronger and faster than any werewolf she'd encountered, and his intelligence made him even more dangerous. But Elizabeth fought with everything she had, driven by her unshakable resolve.
In the end, she struck the killing blow, her silver sword piercing Arthur's heart. As he fell, the curse began to lift. The remaining werewolves collapsed, their bodies reverting to human form.
The battle was over, but the cost was immense. Gama had lost countless lives, and the scars of the werewolf plague would linger for years.
King Alden thanked Elizabeth, offering her anything she desired, but she declined. "My work isn't done," she said simply.
As she rode away from Gama, Elizabeth felt a flicker of hope. She couldn't save everyone, but she had saved this kingdom. And for now, that was enough.