The commander's eyes narrowed, golden flecks bleeding into his irises. His breathing slowed, his heartbeat syncing with something deeper—older. The hairs along his arms bristled, and his grip on the greatsword shifted from trained soldier to primal hunter.
Fur spread across his face and body, his frame bulking with raw strength until he resembled less of a man and more a towering, humanoid lion. With a thunderous roar, the commander surged forward.
The first strike was a feint—a sharp swing to the left meant to pull the werewolf's attention. The second came in low, a brutal slash aimed at the thigh. The werewolf's claws caught the blade mid-swing, but the impact drove it back a step.
Before it could recover, the commander spun on his heel, his greatsword sweeping in a wide, lethal arc.
Voom!
The air screamed as the steel tore through it like a hurricane. The werewolf dropped low, dodging beneath the strike, and burst forward in a blur. Its claws raked across the commander's side, finding the gap in his armor. Blood sprayed as the force of the blow made him stagger.
Gritting his teeth, he leaned back, one hand clutching his bleeding side while the other tightened around the hilt of his sword.
The werewolf grinned, its fangs glistening with anticipation, but the commander's golden eyes burned hotter than pain could dim. His breathing slowed, his muscles tensing like a predator ready to pounce.
Then—he moved.
A sudden forward lunge, too quick for something his size, closed the gap between them in a heartbeat. The greatsword came down in a crushing overhead strike. The werewolf raised both claws to block—
CLANG!
The sheer force drove it to one knee, its claws trembling under the weight of the blow. The commander twisted his wrists, sliding the blade down along the werewolf's guard, and pivoted—driving a heavy kick into its chest. The beast flew back, crashing into the mud and tearing up the ground with its claws to stop itself.
It snarled, rushing forward again, but the commander was already in motion—his swings a blur of steel and fury, each one cutting closer, forcing the werewolf to retreat under the relentless onslaught.
A final roar erupted from the commander as he leapt high, bringing his blade down with all the strength his transformed body could muster.
BOOM!
The ground cracked under the impact, sending a shockwave through the battlefield.
The commander's strike left a deep gash across the battlefield, dust and splinters of earth raining down. For a moment, it seemed the werewolf might stay down.
But then…
A low growl rolled through the air. The werewolf's shoulders began to swell, its already massive frame bulging with corded muscle. Black veins glowed faintly red beneath its skin, pulsing with each heartbeat as it began to heal the large gash across his chest.
"Krrrrahhhh…" Time to get serious he snarled with anger strewn across his face. He vanished,moving so fast the commander barely caught a blur at the edge of his vision before a claw raked across his back armor,steel buckled as he stumbled forward only for a second strike to smash into his side as his ribs broke sending him tumbling across the ground.
Voom! His greatsword cut through the air in a full wide arc of desperation as his vision blurred and blood poured from his side and lips.
He forced himself to his feet as the werewolf drew nearer.
Bang! He placed his sword before him and blocked the claws before planting a knee deep into the beast chest as it stumbled backwards. Sacrificing his left arm, he was able to cut the werewolf halfway into its hip before it stopped the blade and clawed at his throat.
The commander's breath came in ragged gasps, every inhale laced with fire in his broken ribs. The werewolf's claws pressed against his throat, the tips already breaking skin. Hot blood ran down his neck.
With a roar born of sheer will, the commander shoved forward, forcing the beast back a single step—just enough to rip his sword free from its hip. Black blood sprayed across the battlefield, hissing where it struck the dirt.
The werewolf didn't howl. It smiled.
Before the commander could swing again, a blur of fur and muscle slammed into him like a battering ram. The impact drove him into the ground, the earth caving beneath the force. His greatsword slipped from his grasp, spinning end over end before embedding itself several feet away.
The beast straddled him, claws raining down in a savage flurry. Steel plates tore like parchment. Flesh split beneath the onslaught. The commander caught one wrist, then the other—but the strength behind them was overwhelming. His arms trembled, then buckled, the claws inching closer, closer…
Shhk!
One talon tore across his cheek, blinding his left eye in a wash of red.
The werewolf's voice was a deep, mocking rumble.
"Strong… for prey."
It raised both hands for the killing blow.
The commander's vision swam, one eye already sealed shut from blood. His breaths came shallow, each one a fight. The werewolf loomed above him, its claws poised like the headsman's axe.
With the last scraps of his strength, the commander reached for his sword—but his fingers only brushed cold steel before the beast's foot pinned his wrist to the ground.
Crunch!
Bone shattered. Pain tore through him like lightning.
The werewolf leaned closer, its hot breath reeking of blood and rot.
"You fought well," it growled, voice low, almost respectful. "But numbers… and fate… were never yours."
The claws came down.
Shhk!
One raked across his chest, splitting armor and flesh in a single sweep. The second strike was mercifully swift—a deep, brutal slash that stole the strength from his limbs.
The commander's world narrowed to a tunnel of noise—the distant clash of steel, the muffled shouts of his men, the pounding of his slowing heartbeat.