Chapter 186: Anger! Come Help Me!
“That…” Leo was about to speak, but was silenced by a werewolf’s roar.
It was a thunderous explosion that made Leo’s head feel heavy, and a dangerous will seemed to press against his chest, making it hard to breathe.
Immediately after, he felt the earth tremble, as if some force had directly struck the town.
“This pressure… it’s the Wolf King?!” Closing his eyes and then opening them again, George used Prayer Technique to identify the source of the roar.
The surging werewolves grew even more frenzied—their bodies seemed to swell in size, and blood seeped through their fur.
They completely ignored George and charged out in all directions.
“Leo!” George no longer concerned himself with the werewolves. He rushed to the dazed Leo, placed a hand on his head, and a faint Holy Light shimmered. Leo, whose gaze had been vacant, regained his will.
“Knight George…” Leo tried to speak but was interrupted by George.
“Forget about the werewolves in the fortress. The Wolf King is here. If I’m right, the wall has already been breached. I’ll go hold the wall—gather everyone for shelter and hold off the werewolves!”
“Yes!” Leo understood the urgency. He lifted his still-numb legs and began to run.
Only then did George look toward the wall. His Pale Golden Eyes seemed to glow as his vision zoomed and shifted. He finally saw the werewolves flooding in through the blasted gap.
He gripped the spear in his hand, raised it above his head, and hurled it with force.
Like a pale golden meteor streaking across the sky, it landed in the breach. The Holy Light on the spear expanded and then exploded, the radiant fragments instantly clearing the gap of werewolves.
This scene stunned the werewolves preparing to charge into the town. Then a howl echoed from behind them—like ripples spreading outward. The werewolves’ eyes turned even redder, glowing in the night, their fur bristling as they charged forward with increased ferocity.
“Stay alert! Pull the triggers! Shoot those werewolves!” Only then came Vito’s shout.
However, under the roar of the Wolf King that channeled the Earth Vein and contained Authority Level suppression, these ordinary men could not recover so quickly.
Werewolves viciously tore apart dazed men right before Vito’s eyes, making his grip on the Flanged Mace falter in helplessness.
“Vito!” Suddenly, George’s voice called out. Vito turned his head and saw a streak of pale gold light rushing from within the town and stopping just outside the breach. Even the scattered light from that passage caused the werewolves to growl in discomfort.
As the pale light faded, George’s figure was revealed.
He drew the sword he carried, holding it with both hands in front of him, the blade pointed upward.
Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked at the charging werewolves. He raised his sword high and shouted, “Judgment!”
In an instant, brilliant Holy Light erupted from the blade, climbing upward and detaching from the sword like a massive Light Orb. It slowly rose, illuminating the breach like daylight. Under its glow, the werewolves seemed to melt under searing heat. Even under the Wolf King’s Authority Level suppression, their sanity returned with madness. They shrieked, desperately seeking shelter from the light.
In contrast, under the Holy Light, Vito felt warmth. The fatigue from the day’s exertions vanished, and his spirit surged. Warriors suppressed by the Wolf King’s roar also regained clarity. They raised their heads, looking at the rising Light Orb, golden specks gathering in their eyes.
The Light Orb ascended faster and faster until it shot into the heavens, pierced the clouds, and exploded.
As if tearing the clouds apart, golden fragments rained down. The light of the White Star shone through the gap, illuminating Holy Land Town.
“Hah~ Huff~ Hah~” As the golden light gradually faded, George dropped to one knee, panting heavily.
“Knight George!” Vito saw George’s condition and shouted.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll guard this place. Gather the warriors and join up with Leo,” George said loudly after catching his breath.
“This…” Vito hesitated, but gritted his teeth and led the recovered warriors back into the town.
Outside the town, even with George looking exhausted, the werewolves lurking in the dark cautiously retreated. In the end, they split like a tide encountering a reef, fleeing to both sides.
George gritted his teeth but did not pursue. He only looked straight ahead.
“So this is the true power of the Church of the Sanctuary,” a deep voice said.
Unlike the traditional black fur of werewolves, this one’s entire body was covered in snow-white fur. He wore a crown of wolf fangs. If not for the blood at the connecting points, one might have thought the crown had grown from his head.
It was the Wolf King, Ymir.
“This power is terrifying—and seems tailor-made to suppress us. It can even erode a werewolf’s body. Only Upper-Ranked Werewolves can barely resist, while those humans merely suffer slight will contamination under its glow,” Ymir said.
“You must be the core of the Church of the Sanctuary. No Holy Relic, no Mystery, no Holy Relics of the Church—and yet you can produce power rivaling Holy Relics with willpower alone.”
“Humans… truly strong.” Ymir sighed and looked at George.
“Human, don’t pretend. I’ve lived over two hundred years, and I’ve feigned weakness for nearly as long. This guise won’t fool me,” he said.
Hearing this, George’s panting slowed. He stood up, took the shield from his back, and faced Ymir with sword and shield in hand.
“Where is Flint?” George asked.
“He’s gone to Paradise now,” Ymir grinned. “He could’ve conquered a human noble, but now he’s just a servant managing humans as an ordinary man.”
“For as long as history remembers, no human noble has ever submitted to us.”
“It’s not that no cowardly nobles tried, but they always suffered strange ‘accidents’ before surrender—or their own knights rebelled. I thought I could conquer a human, elevate him to nobility, and bypass the curse. But even that proved impossible.”
“Only by doing so could we rise from human oppression and truly proclaim the Nation of Werewolves. Only then could I surpass all werewolves, the Wolf King, even the Wolf God.”
“Pity… even after all that, he failed. Even the noble in the west—after I crushed his reinforcements and defenses, he still did not submit. Something always happens.”
“Is it a curse upon human nobles? Or the human will itself? Or perhaps… in this age where gods have vanished, is there still a god standing behind humanity?”
George only asked, “Where is your Paradise?”
“My Paradise is over there.” Ymir pointed behind him.
“That is a lie,” George said.
“Hahaha… what a miraculous power,” Ymir chuckled deeply, then vanished.
A screeching scrraaatch rang out.
Three claw marks appeared on George’s shield.
“I am the King of Werewolves… and I shall become the Wolf God.” Ymir’s voice echoed near George’s ear.
Then, his tail whipped George like a steel lash, sending him crashing into the wall.
“Human flesh has limits. That’s why you need armor and weapons. But our bodies are the greatest weapons. So, can you match my speed?” Ymir’s voice echoed from all directions.
George’s eyes scanned, light flashing in his Pale Golden Eyes.
Suddenly, George struck with his shield—hitting something. A fading afterimage of Ymir appeared in the air.
“Impressive reflexes. No wonder you came from the same place as that man,” Ymir’s voice continued.
“Do you know him? A scar on his face, and northern tribal face paint.”
“Where is he?” George asked.
“He’s in my Wolf’s Den. I tore out his tongue, flayed his skin, removed his internal organs, and tied him to the Sacred Cross your Church symbolizes,” Ymir’s voice echoed, drifting like he was admiring his masterpiece.
“You people of the Church of the Sanctuary are incredible—even after being torn apart, you still live. But that’s fine. That way, I have a toy I can’t break.”
“I even keep him beside me. I slice off his flesh for food. He feels pain, but he can’t scream—I’ve hollowed out his throat.”
“And I’m careful. I only cut near his heart. It keeps him alive, and the meat grows back fast. So tender…”
He spoke as if to disrupt George’s mind. Meanwhile, intermittent attacks came from Ymir. George blocked most, but his armor still bore some claw marks.
“I can feel your anger. Stop suppressing it—release it! Let your fury grant you greater power!” Ymir went on, and as he spoke, the space around George fluctuated, like a will trying to entrap him.
“I’ve read your Holy Scriptures. A noble ideal. But if one truly lived as they say… what meaning would life have?”
“Look at yourself. Even in the height of rage, you dare not roar. You suppress your fury. Listen to the town—that’s the roar of anger. It lets them vent fear, and turns it into power.”
“They’re also Believers of your Church—and that is what makes them truly human.”
“And you, with that stiffness… can you still call yourself human?”
The fluctuating will gathered around George, trying to bind him.
Suddenly, George looked toward a spot in the darkness and said, “Found you.”
His body burst with Holy Light, instantly dispelling the disturbance. He became light itself, streaking through the darkness and smashing into a low hill with a muffled crash, kicking up dust.
As the dust settled, George stood, Holy Light swirling around him. Nearby was a werewolf, its fur burned away, its flesh charred by searing flames.
Beside it lay Flint, killed by the impact of George’s charge.
“Awoo~” The charred, hairless werewolf let out a hoarse roar, disbelief in its eyes.
“How did you find me?!” Ymir’s voice was raspy, like his throat had been roasted.
George ignored him and softly chanted, “O Lord, please bestow Your Blessing upon me.”
As he spoke, dense Holy Light gathered on his sword. The escaping light wrapped around Ymir’s limbs like chains, preventing his escape.
He raised the sword, radiant with Holy Light. Under its pure restraint, Ymir felt the suffocation of death.
He trembled in fear, struggled, but his injured body was heavy, the pain like facing the Church Nation Patriarch’s Holy Relic.
“Is it you? Are you watching? Are you helping him?” Ymir’s eyes turned blood-red as he roared. He remembered that will observing him in the Wolf’s Den—the source of his half-year of fear—the Bishop of the Church of the Sanctuary he had recently discovered.
But no one answered. He could only watch helplessly as the Holy Light in George’s hand unfolded, blooming like a great Holy Sword.
In ultimate terror, Ymir suddenly roared, “Wrath! Come help me!”
In an instant, black liquid burst from Ymir’s body. It sizzled in defiance against the Holy Light. For a moment, he regained control of his limbs.
Without hesitation, he turned and ran.
Even though the light hadn’t yet reached its peak, George did not hesitate—he brought the sword down.
‘Boom!’ Like a golden torrent, it swallowed the black liquid that resisted the Holy Light, purifying it, then engulfed Ymir’s body. In the golden torrent, Ymir’s form twisted and was eventually erased.
The torrent didn’t stop, blasting into the heavens. The surging gold flooded the clouds—and exploded—scattering the surrounding black clouds across miles.