The Invincible Full-Moon System - Chapter 1634: A Whisper from the Moon
Chapter 1634: A Whisper from the Moon
Mortal Realm—Northern reaches of the Scarlet Banes Kingdom, Verrathen Canyon.
A city sprawled beneath the wash of the moon, tainted with the invasive red.
Its countless spires and domes rose like the bones of some ancient, slumbering beast.
Not a single lantern flickered in the streets—no warm windows beckoned from the darkness. Instead, the buildings loomed in utter shadow, their forms etched only by the cold blessing of moonlight that slid over cracked rooftops, traced abandoned cathedral arches, and painted the mist-choked alleys in the shades of pallid blue.
A yawned canyon, wide and empty, turned into a city in the past.
Its floor scarred with a pale, cracked bed of a river that had long since surrendered to time.
Along the cobblestone avenues, shapes moved—tall, broad-shouldered figures with the gait of men, yet the lupine snouts and bristling fur of wolves. Their clawed feet clicked against stone as they strolled in the bask of the night—Werewolves.
Chains clinked faintly in their grasp.
At the other end of those chains prowled vicious wolves, eyes glowing, breath curling in the night air.
Each beast moved like a predator, growling at every sound and every movement the night made.
Sharp canine fangs bared in silent anticipation.
As though the city were nothing more than their hunting ground.
Overhead, the stars seemed distant and cold; their light offered no comfort to these Werewolves.
Considering the dire situation that kept getting worse by the hour, these patrolling Werewolves were alert and restless. Even though they were still far from the battlefield, the coldness of an ambush never strayed farther than a few meters from them.
Be it illusory or not, these patrolling Werewolves were incredibly alert and ready.
At this very moment, they are at war—and relaxing was something they needed to stray away from.
Inside the biggest cathedral within the city, chaos reigned.
Growls, low and feral, mingled with the sharp bite of shouted words—their echoes chased one another through the vaulted stone corridors could be heard. Each sound bled into the cold night air, gnawing at the nerve of the Werewolves stationed outside.
Their ears twitched, tails stiff, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on them with every rumble.
Everyone knew that the situation was dire for their kingdom, and the higher-ups knew it in detail.
Inside the sacred nave lay desecrated.
Barbaric, most of the people would say, as the Werewolves shattered the once-proud pews and shoved them against the walls. Each remains crouching in the shadows—like broken teeth. As for the middle of the hall, it had been claimed for a far darker purpose.
Now, the place meant for prayers was occupied by ten thrones of interlocking bone.
Each pale surface glistened faintly in the moonlight that filtered through the fractured stained glass.
All of the thrones pulsed with a subtle, oppressive aura—colorful kingly energy.
Upon the hide of a massive beast, spread like a carpet before the central throne, lounged a gathering of Werewolves whose presence thickened the air immensely. Their foreheads bore King Marks, dimmed and faint, but were clearly there.
A symbol of power and authority.
Just from their King Marks alone shows that each of these Werewolves was an Alpha Prime.
A conqueror in their own right, and a leader who oversees multiple packs.
“How many more of our kind should fall—before we make our move? How many?!” An Alpha Prime bared his fangs, glaring at the opposing Alpha Primes who didn’t support his idea. “More than a hundred… a hundred main packs have been torn to shreds! It wouldn’t take long before we’re decimated!”
“You irrational dog!” Another snarled. “We do not even know if we can face the Royal Black Prince— even if we go your way! Recklessness will not get us anywhere. For now, we should keep locating the Ice and Snow Princess and beg Sven to deal with this.”
“By the time we manage, our kingdom will already fall!”
“And what if we failed to take the Royal Black Prince down? Our kingdom will be certain to fall then!”
“Damned the Origin for allowing the birth of a cowardly dog like you! The Empress is approaching with every passing second, and you’re still insisting on taking the safe route?! A situation like this demands a drastic measure! You’re unfit to be a leader! You’re unfit to be an Alpha…”
“What did you say?! What you call a coward is reasonable for many!”
“Reasonable? Face it, you’re scared. You’re scared of the Royal Black Prince, and I don’t.”
“More reason for you to not make the decision. If you aren’t scared, then you’re a damn fool!”
“Our people have no faith in us. We have to do something. Just one single victory to change the tide!”
As the Clarentium Empire’s army invaded deeper—into the Scarlet Banes Kingdom’s territory, the opposing army was pressured to make a drastic decision. More than a dozen cities under their rule surrendered to the Clarentium Empire without a fight.
And the number would only increase in time.
Empress Evelyn’s presence alone was enough to make the other Alpha Primes submit willingly.
She represented the Silverstar Pack, and that name alone carried weight in every part of the continent.
Especially in the Scarlet Banes Kingdom.
A false prince, draped in the hollow glory of a Werewolf—the sworn enemy of the entire race.
Not to mention, there were a few reports from their people that the Royal Black Prince was watching Empress Evelyn closely. He would react the moment the situation went out of control, and the Scarlet Banes Kingdom has to be wary of that.
Since the Royal Black Prince was present, there was a talk to attack the capital city of the empire.
Dargena City.
But none of the Werewolves knew its location, and other races refused to give a hint.
Between a dying kingdom and a new rising empire, the other kingdoms knew which one to choose.
It was an easy decision for them.
Due to those reasons, the tension within the upper ranks of the Scarlet Banes Kingdom swelled.
Snarls snapped like chains as the argument grew fiercer.
Voices breaking into roars that rattled the cathedral’s high ceiling.
Old grudges clawed to the surface, accusations hurled like fangs bared in the dark.
Around them, the bone thrones loomed, silent sentinels to a council teetering on the brink of bloodshed.
Eventually, another Alpha Prime stepped in.
“Let us cool our tongues,” He said—his voice commanded respect. “No decision can be made if we’re like this. Go back to your Lunas, and meet here again in an hour. Nothing wrong with taking a breather before making a big decision.”
Hearing this, the two Alpha Primes who had been arguing throughout snarled and averted their gaze.
Both were reluctant to stop, but none defied this particular Alpha Prime’s suggestion.
Even though time was of the essence, forcing a decision right now would only make things worse, and the Scarlet Banes Kingdom couldn’t afford that. One mistake could mean the very end of the kingdom, with them ending up under the Clarentium Empire.
Or worse, their kingdom would be razed to the ground.
Eventually, the Alpha Primes stood up and exited the cathedral.
As instructed, all of them returned to their Lunas to calm their nerves.
Since the Blood Moon was approaching, it wasn’t a perfect situation to talk either, as every argument would most likely end up as a bloody battle. Due to that, the commanding Alpha Prime thought that it was necessary for them to calm their nerves first.
Once everyone left, the dominant Alpha Prime was left behind.
He sat in silence, contemplating how bad the situation was.
Then, he turned towards the staircase on the corner.
“Just what are we supposed to do, princess?” He whispered. “We’re losing, and our people are losing hope. In the last couple of days, we didn’t achieve a single victory. Most Alpha Primes surrendered to the empire, mainly because we can’t show them any chance of winning.”
Gritting his teeth, he tapped his index finger against the carpet, making a thudding sound with each tap.
“I’d rather die than kneel, but I can only speak for myself.” He sighed deeply.
Meanwhile, on the second floor of the cathedral, there was a single room with two powerful Werewolf guards at the eighth-rank realm—standing outside. All of them stood firm like a statue, ready to protect the room from any intruder.
Inside, a lone Werewolf was lying on the bed.
Her furs were lustrous and elegant, thicker around her neck and chest.
Just from her very bearing alone, any Werewolf would recognize her. And even if, by some impossible chance, they did not, the dim Honey Moon King Mark upon her brow proclaimed her identity for all to see—Princess Selene.
As the kingdom’s foremost figure, she was the pillar upon which countless others leaned.
Bearing the weight of that role drove her to labor without cease, until nightfall became her only respite.
Due to the endless duty of keeping every Alpha Prime beneath her banner appeased, assured that they were still going to win the war, gnawed at both body and mind—a burden even her regeneration ability could not mend.
It was rare for a high-ranking Supernatural race like a Werewolf to be pushed to this extent.
But it wasn’t impossible.
Now, at last, she slept soundly in the solitude of her chamber, clinging to the fragile hope that she might linger in rest a moment longer before reality came knocking once more. However, even in slumber, she wasn’t given any rest.
Her forehead creased into a frown as her body twitched.
Under her eyelids, her eyeballs moved frantically, as if she were unrest even in sleep.
Or perhaps, a nightmare had struck her, disturbing her peaceful moment.
Swish!
Just then, slowly but surely, the Honey Moon King Mark began to activate.
It thrummed with kingly power—flaring to a blinding brilliance before dimming once more. Princess Selene stirred restlessly beneath its glow—shifting left and right upon the bed, yet her eyes remained stubbornly closed.
Almost like she was trapped in her dream, unable to wake up no matter how hard she tried.
Moonlight spilled through the high-arched window, its silvery threads soft and still—until they began to quiver. A strange intrusion crept into its glow, a slow, deliberate bleed of crimson that seeped into the pale light, staining it from argent purity to a deep, glistening ruby.
Its altered light slipped into the chamber like a silent intruder, draping Princess’ Selene’s resting form.
Steadily, its unnatural hue enveloped her.
But this was no gift of the moon to Werewolves.
Unlike the silvery stream, this crimson glow didn’t soothe her—it coiled around her like a serpent before funneling toward the shimmering King Mark upon her forehead, which was a reaction to its presence. The once-golden mark flared, throbbing with a pulse of power as the red seeped in.
Its invasive presence melds seamlessly with the sacred Honey Moon’s essence.
No clash, no resistance, the two powers merged as if they belonged together.
Soon, the hue deepened, settling into her mark until gold and red were separated into two parts.
Once it did, it began pulsing once every three heartbeats.
Each wave of that red-gold energy coursed through her veins, shifting something within.
Subtle at first, then more pronounced, as though her very core was being rewritten anew.
Princess Selene shifted uncomfortably, her breathing hitched, fingers twitched, then, without warning, her eyes snapped open. A glimmer of scarlet flared in their depths—exuding a predatory gleam that she had never had, before fading back into their familiar golden hue, leaving only the faintest whisper that something else was now present within her.
For a moment there, she sat on the bed in silence, registering what had happened.
Until eventually, a small smile bloomed on her lips.
She got out of bed, stood a couple of steps away from the window, and went down to her knees.
It was as if she were thanking the moon for help.
A help that only she knew and experienced right now, but would soon be felt by others.
