Chapter 48: Chapter 48

I met Matheo on my way outside the clinic.

He asked me where I'm headed and I answered with honesty: I will not allow Mraz to stroll around without recompensation for the appalling incident he launched in my village. He tried to convince me otherwise so I promised not to involve people. I lent him my coat and walked away with my hands inside my pockets.

He said that Mraz can't have the chance to leave this metropolis right away because of the ingredient Matheo poured into his drink. As a bar owner, he's aware of what will harm a werewolf's stomach. Additionally, Mraz is staying in an inn. I make steps straightway to that destination with my eyes closed, not a dot of care for people who see me.

The sidewalk may be busy with people walking in both opposite directions. My sense of smell leads me to Mraz. I only stopped stepping when his scent was pervading right in front of me. My eyes opened to behold the facade of the inn. I'm standing in the narrow space between two buildings. The tree can be useful to ascend into the third-floor room through the window. He's in there.

While no one is watching, I leap first to the wall then to the tree, cling on the protruding ledge, then clash the glass window as I come in. I shake off the shreds on my shoulder. The room was quiet when I arrived. The dominating sound is coming from the boiling pot of water on the stove until Mraz yelled inside the bathroom.

"Who's there!?"

Instead of knocking, I slam the wooden door of the bathroom, pierce my claws, then scratch it downward. "I'm here to smack your punishment for harming my village and the people."

"What on earth, pureblood!? I'm having bad weather in my stomach because of that fraud lone wolf!!"

I boot the bottom of the door. "I have no room for your complaint. The weeping children in my village are heavier than your condition. Don't make me drag you out from there," I said, coldly.

"Of course, you won't care. You're a demon. Alright! Just give me a second before we have a proper conversation, aye?"

Apparently, I cooperated by waiting outside silently. After a few splashes and flashes, a momentary silence prevails inside. I stay alert when the doorknob starts spinning, and it's surprising that I'm not surprised when he throws a punch at me the second he opens the door swiftly. I dodge my face and kick him back inside. I clasp his cloth and head to bump him on the sink then toss him outside.

Unfortunately for him, he's only wearing underpants and a white shirt. He woggles his head and staggers while standing up. "What now? You're going to kill me!?" he vents out his raging voice.

"I want answers beforehand. What is your purpose for causing a disaster in my village?"

"Because of you. I was stripped down from honor and dominance because of you! This city was once mine! And I was once a Delta in my pack not until you came out of your hideouts!"

In other words: revenge. Their heroic legend accentuated their pride. I said coldly, "I have nothing else to say, save it serves you right."

Technically, there's no additional proof needed that he's a belligerent werewolf. He sprints towards me to sway a scratch. I dodge him again and his claw left a scratch on the wall. I push the drawer beside the wall to him, when his steps are blocked, bent over the top of it, I claw him upward—leaving a gash on his neck to the jaw. After that, I kicked the drawer and it fell on him when the floor met his butt.

The layered drawers slide open and every item inside was scattered. Mraz picks a quill immediately and hurls it on my face. I manage to avoid it again but it left a graze on my right cheek that regenerates promptly. He shifts into a wolf as he leaps toward me, pushes me to the ground, then bites my arm that I used to fend his approach.

I gave him an uppercut on the stomach—I even heard it seethes—then I grabbed him on his fur to toss him under the stove. His wound caused by my silver claw isn't regenerating. He's still groveling on the ground when he asserts, "You're finally showing forth your true color, aye?"

"Said by the pack who painted my color."

"You were born with it. Don't neglect what bloodline you belong to! You came from the murderers!"

"I won't deny the truthfulness of it. But you know the truth behind that truth? You came from the bloodline of those greedy for power."

"Because you used that power to seize us! Don't forget that your ancestors used it for wicked dominion!"

"Ancestors? And your ancestors teach you to esteem yourselves that much? The only victims you can see are yourselves. You were all self-centered in the first place. Greedy for authorities that aren't granted for you and claim the praises of the Moon Goddess."

"Because you deserve it. Look what your kind has done!! YOU'RE NOT TAKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR THOSE WHO DIED IN THE MASSACRE BY YOUR PACK, AYE!? AND NOW WHAT!? YOU'RE PLAYING A VICTIM AS WELL!?"

"I HAVE NO RESPONSIBILITY! THAT IS YOUR PUNISHMENT FOR DESTROYING MY HOMELAND AND SLAUGHTERING MY FAMILY WHILE GLORIFYING YOUR PACK!"

"BECAUSE YOU DON'T DESERVE THE POWER GIVEN TO YOUR KIND!" he growled.

"... And who do you think you are compared to the moon to have that judgment?"

"I am a victim of the monsters created by the moon. Silver wolves? are nothing but the moon's mistake!"

This splatting of the past is leading to naught. We can see each other eye-to-eye. But the only oppressed we can see is ourselves. "Vengeance pack, huh...? Now you're going to rebel against the Moon Goddess? You don't deserve your intelligence. All you know is to bark nonsense."

"Enough!!" He snatches the handle of the pot and throws the boiling water at me. I lost my balance while squirming, groaning, and gnashing my teeth from the pain of scorching! The pot clatters and the next noise I heard is the knock on the door. A female keeper is anxiously asking about the situation inside.

Mraz slides the door open to escape. I endure to think not about my aching skin while regenerating to chase him. He's running away like a criminal betwixt the crowd of people, pushing away and aside anyone that hinders his path, even old ones. The first thing I learned about my mother is running; from enemies and towards enemies. I run like a wind between the crowd without harming anyone, eyes locked on my prey.

When I almost got him, he summoned the guts to shift into a wolf again. He's farther from me instantly! The people started to panic. Notwithstanding the threat, I shift into a wolf too to catch up to him. I slow down a little to watch him run away from me. He hurries into the woods, finally outside the metropolis, down to a partially frozen river where the water wheel spins.

He stepped onto the frozen surface and I remained on the ground. He turns around, glaring and gnashing his teeth against me. ["Are you done running?"] I questioned.

["You have no difference with your kind!"] This time, he tackles first and I collide with his force. We fell on the cold but shallow water and battled like brute beasts in our wolf form. We've been bumping onto the rocks, submerging then resurfacing, and biting whoever got the quick chance first. Although having silver fangs is advantageous.

He pushed me against the water wheel, leaning above me and rigorously biting my neck to keep my fangs out of his reach! I stab my claws into his left eye and when he wails, I push him away. I fell on my knees half-submerged in the water, my throat is bleeding and it flows along the river whenever my blood drops. My regeneration effects slowly if a werewolf caused the injury.

It was too late when I noticed him behind me! He clenches my temples with both of his palms and the next thing I know is I found myself in the middle of my past: the day the tragedy in Asfara happened. It's quiet. I am the only one moving in this place like in a huge picture. I know this ability! He used it against me before!

In my perspective, I'm kneeling in front of my lifeless mother who's laying in her own blood, and the rest of the white wolves here in Asfara. Nevertheless, I feel nothing. I've already shed enough tears and anguish for this scene. All I can feel other than emptiness is my burning desire to retaliate.

"What do you want? to welcome you in my past?"

"I should have done this before!!" I heard his scream behind me, then I felt an extremely painful stab from behind that pierced through my chest! It's a silver rod from the ruined water wheel. He released that rod from me, then batters me continuously while being pushed around the river—which is becoming a bloody river. "I should've killed you before!! Before your horns ever sprouted!! How could you not react in front of your dead pack!? You're a numb monster!!" he yelled while beating me. He's like an insane loser.

I caught the rod and grip it tight. I speak dryly, "Why does it bother you? Is it because your power isn't working against me?" I pulled the rod then tossed it away, clawed his legs horizontally. When he fell to his knees, I showered him with heavy punches on the face with my claws hardening my fists. Beating him while pushing him around the river. The stab on my chest is regenerating rapidly after my throat. "You still don't understand, Sr. Mraz. You can't defeat me unless I show mercy."

I'm looking at him with terror and bloodlust. He crawled, staggered, and stepped backward whilst facing me. Ahead of me and behind him is a waterfall. "Oh... I know... someone who can kill you..." He chuckles alone—a hopeless expression. He kept on stepping backward while I'm forward. "You... You're clueless, aye? Our Alpha... shall devour you alive... and you have no idea that he's right under your nose."

"What?"

"... I better kill myself... than to be killed by your filthy claws!" I was about to grasp his clothes but he jumped down the waterfall. I can't squint if he falls because if I try, I'll fall too. What a shame. His own pride killed himself. But what was he talking about?

I step out of the water, strip my upper, and stretch my arms. I'm thoroughly soaked even with blood. I walk around the metropolis instead of crossing inside, going to Small Vil. It was empty and still smokey when I arrived beside a villager's garden. I walk down the concrete stairs to its backyard. In the middle of the burnt village, there are incinerated carcasses of rabid dogs. The lovely village I used to entertain while merchandising seems pale, silent, and empty.

I started walking towards our garden dome. It wasn't burnt down unlike the other houses since it's separated. However, when I arrived on the road, I found the door open. Matheo is the only one inside and he's currently flipping the pages of Cormelio's journal. He greets me the moment I come in. He's also wearing a mask. I wear my coat that was laid on the table of flower vases before I change my clothes and shoes. I sit on my bed swing.

"So," he opens the communication, "what did you do to Mraz?"

"I killed him."

He puts the journal down on the vases' table and stands in front of me, upset. "You what?"

"To be precise, he killed himself before I could kill him. I know not if he's still breathing by now or not for the river takes him."

He sighs with his eyes closed. "And what comes to your mind that you seek to kill him, too?"

"I'm sorry. He destroyed my home. And I can't end this day without doing anything to punish him."

"It is our nature as werewolves." He sighs again. "Cormelio told me about your argument. As a lone wolf, I've seen most of the different angles of different lives. I've evaluated the difference between humans and our kind. We werewolves love to brag about our strength, we fight for dominance, and if we lose, we will fight back for revenge and prove to the whole race again that we're the strongest.

"We are strongly inclined in being short-tempered... because it makes us wild. While humans vary. In my opinion, that is the reason for our never-ending war: revenge after revenge. It was never our fault that we have such a trait but it'll be our fault if we let this nature control us. Now that you've done it, does it change anything for the better?"

"... You're lecturing me again..."

"I just thought that I have to. I'm sorry if I figured out about your family feud. Your uncle is surprisingly talkative at his age!"

"It's fine. You're right anyway..."

His eyes smile at me. "And you should apologize to him earlier than tomorrow. That's the only way to take away the guilt for acting rudely at your parents. Don't ignore it. Remember when Zaeramil sulked? I just let him cool off and eventually, he apologized first~"

"Mr. Matheo... What if Elibur killed your family? Aren't you going to avenge them?"

"... Tough question." He folds his arms while staring at the floor. "I won't. Besides, before he could kill them I'll make sure that he'll kill me first."

I snorted. "That's why we found you helpless in the forest that night," I said and he laughed. "Also, what are you doing here? Why are you looking at my uncle's journal?"

"Oh, right. He can't request this from you so I'm doing the favor. He wants to jot down something in his journal and I'm just trying to make sure it's his journal."

I scan him from head to toe. "Mr. Matheo, did you know who Alpha Biaco is?"

"I remember I told you—"

"What is his real identity? Do you know who he is?"

"... Strange. Why are you asking me that question? Alpha Biaco is Biaco—"

"Sr. Mraz told me that their Alpha is with me all this time." I stand in front of him, gazing directly without flinching with menacing eyes. The way he twitches his hands behind shows daunt. "Did you know it? Are you hiding the truth from me?"

"H-Hold on, are you blaming me?"

"... I am."

He gently pushed me away through my arms and his hands remained there. "Hessuel, Mraz must be trying to build distrust between us."

"Then he's lying? This ruse is the ruse itself?" I questioned almost in delight. I was hoping he would answer the same as I expected but...

"What will you do if it's true?"

"... Then I'll kill him."

He shook his head in disappointment. "What if I am him? Will you still kill me?"

My lips made a shape but were frozen. I feel both empty and numb. I raised my hand to reach for my necklace but a fast and powerful grip hurled and crashed me to the vases at the corner of this dome. Another familiar voice of a man is heard, "Stay out of here. Leave this to me."

I stood on my feet again, stretched my neck, and beheld his face. It's not the winter that made me chill, but the sight of his golden and furious wolf eyes. "Sr. Amos..."