Chapter 1424: The Weight of Power
Gary could feel the impact through his entire body.
The mont the hamr connected, he knew, deep in his bones, that the hit had done damage. The vibration traveled down the shaft of the weapon and through the tip of his hamr, and he could tell with certainty: at least so of Slit’s bones had cracked from that blow.
It had landed cleaner than his first strike. Maybe he hadn’t used quite as much Qi this ti, but the montum had been on his side, and so had the raw strength of his body. Combined with the power granted to him by the weapon itself, the effect was undeniable.
The truth was, Gary still had a massive energy reserve left. Thanks to his class, he was reaping benefits that others couldn’t imagine. But the battle wasn’t over, not even close, and he had jumped into the fray earlier than planned. If he wanted to make it through the entire fight, he needed to conserve that energy where he could.
I didn’t strike the marking he had on him, Gary thought, eyes scanning the field. So I didn’t land a critical hit. But I can’t afford to let him back up. I need to finish this, before he has the chance to hurt anyone else.
As that thought crossed his mind, movent to the side caught his attention. A werewolf leapt at him out of nowhere. Gary’s weapon vanished from his grip in an instant. He leaned back, narrowly avoiding the swipe.
The werewolf skidded across the ground with surprising agility, rebounding off its claws and launching itself toward Gary again.
But Gary was ready.
His hamr reappeared in his hands, just in ti. He raised it high, and the large flat end collided with the oncoming werewolf with a thunderous crack. The impact was so powerful that it sent the attacker flying, launched up into the air, soaring above the two-story restaurant behind him, before vanishing into the distance.
More werewolves closed in, forming a rough circle around him.
These weren’t the sa ones he had dealt with earlier. These were fresh, those who had initially gone to attack the restaurant but had returned after realizing that Gary was the true threat. They’d figured out what the others already knew: if Gary wasn’t stopped, then none of them stood a chance. He was the key to everything falling apart for them.
Another ca from the left. Without missing a beat, Gary twisted his body, swinging his arms. The hamr materialized mid-motion, striking the werewolf square in the side. The timing was perfect, down to the millisecond.
It always was.
Gary had trained for this. He had spent countless hours with Kanu, perfecting the timing and reach of his weapon. He knew the exact distance between his hands and the hamr’s head, the exact mont to summon it mid-swing. And while most of that training had been done in human form, that was by design.
This fight is exactly why I practiced like that, he thought.
The werewolves surrounding him hadn’t had that luxury. They had seen what he could do, yes, but they hadn’t fought against it directly. It was hard to judge the weapon’s range, even harder to predict when it would appear. One second his hands were empty, the next the hamr was slamming into their ribs or sending them through the air.
It was like trying to fight a ghost with a warhamr.
Another werewolf tried a different approach, charging straight through Gary’s wide swing, hoping that by pushing in close, they’d catch him off guard.
Big mistake.
Gary twisted his hips and brought up his leg, slamming the side of his foot directly into the oncoming werewolf’s chest. The impact forced the beast backward, crumpling to the ground in a heap.
It would get back up eventually. Gary knew that. But monts like that were why he was such a difficult opponent.
Even without a weapon, he wasn’t helpless. Not by a long shot.
The sneak attacks had failed. So, the werewolves decided, there was no point holding back.
Eight of them surrounded him now. A full squad. And they launched at him all at once, howling and snarling, desperate to bring him down through sheer numbers.
Gary looked up at them, unfazed.
“This just makes it easier,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “Let deal with all of you at once.”
He raised both hands above his head, and with a flash, the hamr returned.
This ti, sothing was different.
The back end of the weapon began to pulse with energy, glowing faintly as Gary pushed power into it. He leapt into the air, not toward any of the attackers, but straight up, and then brought the hamr down with all his might.
He didn’t aim at them. He aid at the ground.
The weapon hit the floor with an earth-shaking slam, and a blast of energy burst outward in every direction.
The tiles beneath him cracked violently, spiderwebs of force splitting the earth. The shockwave spread out like a ripple, unseen but deeply felt. It passed through the charging werewolves, stopping them mid-air.
To them, it was like being caught in a blinding flash. One second they were leaping, the next… they were on the ground, writhing in agony. Muscles locked up. Blood spilled from their mouths. Internal injuries crippled their movents.
Gary stood in the middle of them all, unmoving, untouched.
Just then, Numba erged from the restaurant.
He had originally co out to help, figuring so of the werewolves might need to be pushed back, and Gary might need support, but what he saw stunned him.
Gary wasn’t just okay. He was dominating.
When did he get this strong? Numba thought, his eyes wide. He’s so far ahead of us now… even in our transford states, we can’t compare.
With most of the werewolves dealt with, at least for now, Gary turned his focus elsewhere.
Slit…
He began to scan the area again, looking for the Ironfang werewolf. But there was no trace of him.
He was gone.
So he’s still alive. But where the hell did he go?
Gary couldn’t afford to chase him, not yet. The battlefield was still swarming. Too many werewolves were heading toward the restaurant. The others needed help.
Just as he readied himself to move, sothing slamd into the ground directly in front of him with a loud crack.
Feathers scattered, tumbling across the floor. Dark and broken.
Gary’s eyes widened.
Soone had practically crash-landed in front of him.
When the feathers settled, he imdiately recognized the figure.
“Crawley,” Gary said, his voice steady but concerned. “Are you okay?”
Crawley stood up, blood streaking his side. Several sharp nails were lodged into his wings, and a deep claw mark tore through one of them, trailing crimson.
Still, Crawley’s eyes were sharp. He nodded, brushing off the pain.
“I rushed here as fast as I could,” he said, his breath ragged. “But I need to get back. I have to make sure the others get here safely.”
He turned, just before taking flight again.
“It’s Ylva,” he added over his shoulder. “She’s on her way, with her entire force.”
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(Note, this is yesterday’s One Chapter for the weekend. I had written it and just forgot to post. Two will be following up for today, but tomorrow, there will only be 1 as it’s my Birthday.)
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