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As thanks, here's a bonus Chapter:-
30+ Advance chapters on [email protected]/Saintbarbido. (Currently in Ben 10 at chapter 46)
(General P.O.V.)
The desert stretched endlessly before Loth's lone figure, awash under the light of the full moon.
"This is good enough." He said to himself, gazing at the sand dunes behind him.
He was at the entrance to a tall canyon where the ground was more rock than sand, unsuitable terrain for the scorpions and snakes he'd seen on his way here.
Another benefit was the natural barrier against the cold desert wind that blew across the Nevada sands. The last thing he wanted was to catch a cold.
He sat crosslegged on the ground, naked. His clothes and the mist control booklet were stashed behind an incospicous rock as he didn't want to damage them in case he turned.
He also manipulated the mist to mask his presence in case a monster appeared.
Throwing a prayer to the goddess of luck, Loth glanced at the moon in trepidation before he turned his gaze down.
His breaths came out shallow and uneven, a trembling hand hovering over his wrist.
The last barrier.
Luna's bracelet—the one thing keeping the HellHound's curse from fully taking hold.
Hecate's words echoed in his mind: "Remove it. Wrestle the curse into submission. Or let it devour you."
He could feel the beast beneath his skin, clawing to break free, especially under the moon's glare. His instincts screamed at him to stop, but he pushed the fear aside.
"This ends here." he growled and in one swift motion, yanked the bracelet off his wrist.
Agony erupted through his body like wildfire.
"Wha- Argg!!" Loth crumpled to the ground, clutching his sides as the curse surged through him faster than before. Like a flood of water gushing out of a destroyed dam.
Blackened veins appeared over his skin, showing the infection had spread to his magic circuits. Loth lost all awareness of his Anodite magic. The heat on his chest had changed to a ball of ice, quickly pervading throughout his body.
His vision blurred, surroundings dissolving into a haze of crimson and gold.
"Aarrgg!" Bones snapped and re-formed, bringing forth a fresh wave of agony.
His Muscles stretched and twisted, dark fur sprouting on his skin. Claws tore through his fingertips, his ankles broke, the feet turning prehensile.
A guttural snarl escaped his lips—half-human, half-animal.
The Hellhound's curse had been unleashed.
"No!" Loth growled, his voice strained and hoarse. He dug his clawed fingers into the rocky ground, trembling as he fought to maintain control. "I… won't… let you… win!"
Closing his eyes, he reached deep within himself, summoning his absent magic.
He would not allow this curse to consume him. Time and time again, Loth had proved the depths of his own willpower to himself.
The giant spider, Clarrise, the hellhound. He had survived them all. And this time would be no different.
A scream of defiance filled the air, echoing through the canyon as he pushed past the cold seeping in his flesh, and grabbed the minuscule traces of warmth fighting against the frigid taint in his heart.
All at once, the pain stopped. Or rather grew muted.
Loth blinked, findinf himself standing on the surface of an infinite sea of darkness. His magic had pulled him into his own mind.
The air was suffocatingly cold, heavy with the stench of decay. Above him, a dim pink sun hung in the sky, casting an unnatural, tainted glow.
A low growl rumbled through the void, and in front of him, the Hellhound that had cursed him emerged from the shadows.
Loth held his ground, whether rooted in fear or determination, he had no clue.
The reason was that despite it being the same creature, this time around, the beast was massive, its dark fur bristling with a putrid aura.
The dark fur was actually a coat of black energy, pulsing across its 7 feet tall body, radiating malevolence. The worst part were the glowing yellow eyes locked onto Loth.
Eyes filled with primal hunger.
Loth gulped, his spirit form shimmering with pink energy. In here, he finally had access to his Anodite magic. The pink sun above fed him power. Just enough that he could fight back.
Knowing this, he stood tall, clenching his fists so tight, he could feel the nails bite into his palm.
"This is my body," Loth declared. "My magic. You don't get to take it from me you fucking asshole!"
The Hellhound's jaw opened wide as it roared at him. An ethereal pink shield manifested before Loth, blocking the shockwaves.
"You'll have to do more than bark at me bud, coz I ain't going nowhere." Loth responded.
The Hellhound had had enough and lunged, black saliva dripping from it's sharp teeth.
"Come oonn!!"
Loth braced himself, reinforcing his body and enlarging the shield. Lastly, a spear construct began forming in his hand, poised at the descending wall of teeth and claws.
Their collision sent shockwaves rippling through the infinite black sea, the cursed sun above resonating with every blow.
Outside, Loth's physical body writhed violently, shifting between human and beast as the internal struggle raged on.
While he battled the Hellhound within, the air around the area began to shift.
Shadows moved in the moonlight as a pack of Lycanthropes emerged from the dunes around the Canyon.
Their savage glowing yellow eyes and sharp teeth gleamed in the dim moonlight, their hulking forms bristling with predatory intent.
At the head of the pack stood the Alpha, larger and stronger. He was Lycaon—the First Lycanthrope.
His dark fur gleamed like polished obsidian, and his red eyes burned with malice. While pure savagery reigned in his packmates, Lycaon possessed a flicker of intelligence in his cold beastial gaze.
His snarling muzzle curled into a cruel smile as he observed Loth's shifting form.
"This boy is the prey we seek," Lycaon growled, his voice deep and guttural, "He bears the Mark of Mars."
The Pack leaped down, gracefully landing around Loth, circling him.
Lycaon sniffed in his direction, the Lycanthrope's expression flickering with curiosity. "Yet he does not smell like a demigod."
A faint chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Strange. Perhaps he might have made a fine addition to the pack… if not for the circumstances."
The other Lycanthropes growled in agreement, their claws digging into the sand as they drew closer to Loth, awaiting the Alpha's permission to tear him apart.
Lycaon prowled forward, his movements deliberate and menacing. "But my pack comes first. And your death child, will serve a greater purpose."
His lips pulled back into a savage grin, revealing sharp, glistening teeth. "You are the sacrifice. The key to bringing Zeus to his knees. The gods will fall, and we will bathe in their blood."
The pack roared in agreement, their bloodlust filling the air. Lycaon raised a clawed limb, preparing to strike.
"Finish him," he ordered, his voice dripping with cruelty.
Before the Lycanthropes could attack, the atmosphere shifted.
A silvery light descended from the moon, illuminating the desert sands. Celestial arrows rained down, stabbing through howling lycans and scattering the pack in anger and surprise.
From the light stepped the goddess of the hunt and maidens- Artemis herself, her divine silver bow drawn, flanked by her female Hunters.
Her silver eyes burned with icy determination as she aimed her weapon directly at Lycaon.
"Step away from him, savage." Artemis commanded, her voice cold and unyielding. "This one is under my protection."
Lycaon snarled, baring his teeth as his pack shivered under the godly presence.
"Protection? From you, little goddess?" Lycaon mocked, eyes gleaming with hate. "Your brother sends me to kill him, and yet here you are, shielding the whelp. How very… amusing. Family troubles perhaps?"
'Apollo? Impossible.'
Artemis' eyes narrowed. "My brother has no hand in this."
Lycaon laughed darkly. "Oh, but he does. The Mark of blood is a gift from one of your siblings, goddess bitch. You should ask him yourself—if you dare."
"Filthy mongrel! How dare thee?" One of the huntresses drew an arrow at Lycaon.
Artemis raised a hand, stopping her. An open confrontation with monsters from their Roman counterpart pantheon was bound to cause friction.
Her eyes tightened, but Lycaon didn't flinch.
"You think your intervention changes anything?" he sneered. "The Greek gods will fall, Artemis or should I say Diana. Tell Zeus I can't wait for my revenge. Muhahahaha!!"
With that, he motioned for his pack to retreat.
The Lycanthropes melted into the desert shadows, their howls echoing in the distance.
Artemis lowered her bow, a grim expression on her otherworldly beautiful face.
"Hazel," the Goddess said, addressing one of her Hunters. "Lead the others on a Lycanthrope hunt. Leave behind a few of your sisters to ensure this boy's safety. He is crucial to the quest."
Hazel smiled, eager to pay back Lycaon's disprect to mistress'. The good thing was that the hunt would not be a violation of the separation laws between the Greek and Roman Gods.
Hazel's sharp golden eyes gleamed with understanding and she nodded. "As you command, my lady."
Artemis hesitated, her gaze lingering on Loth's writhing form. "There is more to this than I was told," she murmured. "I will return to Olympus and demand answers."
With that, she dissolved into silver light and ascended.
Hazel and her group took off after Lycaon, leaving behind two Hunters to guard Loth. They formed a defensive perimeter around him, their bows drawn and ready.
Suddenly, the air grew heavy, thick with malice.
The ground trembled as a new figure landed before the Hunters, cracking the ground on impact.
"Halt! In the name of-" The hunter's warning was cut off as her neck was grabbed and snapped by the figure in blinding speed.
The other hunter released the arrow at the enemy only for the arrow to miss and instead return to her, multiplied with red copies. They tore into her leaving a bloody corpse behind.
"My oh my, I never get tired of that." The figure sighed at the scent of blood, his presence radiating raw power and danger.
The dust settled, revealing a smirking Ares, the first hunter's corpse flopping out of his tight grip.
The God of War turned his gaze to Loth and began approaching, his black trench coat billowing behind him. His smirk widened at the agony Loth was under.
"Lycaon always did talk too much." Ares chuckled, looming over Loth with killing intent. "But at least he was useful for one thing—getting my dear sister out of the way. Now it's just you and me, mutt."