The Invincible Full-Moon System - Chapter 1786: The Cowardly Way

Chapter 1786: The Cowardly Way

Rise and spark like fireworks.

A hot-blooded young werewolf—one that had only separated from his family’s pack to create a pack of his own—came and went like fireworks. Leaving the shelter of their family is the hardest thing, but there are some who were eager for the day of their departure to come.

Brawl. A test of strength. Bloodline.

Each aspect shaped a young werewolf’s heart, and from it came confidence.

Confidence for a werewolf is not the same as that of others.

It not only brings a sense of superiority, but also the abnormal, furious strength to keep their chins held high no matter the situation, and bloodlust.

Burning, predatory anger accompanied.

Many talented youngsters failed to understand that, despite their talents, they were young.

Compared to those with hundreds, if not a thousand, years of head-start, their talent paled in the face of experience and wisdom. Controlling their anger and picking enemies that would test them are the absolute most important skills a young werewolf has to learn before venturing on their own.

After all, leaving shelter meant they could be prey for others.

Desperate Alphas, Betas, or Omegas would want to aim them to grow or recover strength.

Just like those who came before her, Laynkard also thought Adhara was the same.

Her speech lifted his view of her, yes, but she still has the flaw of a young blood.

Against him… Against someone who lived for a few more thousand years than her—she should’ve kept her head low and waited for the opportune moment to strike. A direct challenge like this meant she lost to the burning confidence inside her.

It hasn’t been that long since Laynkard was awakened.

And from Princess Selene, he learned about the notorious Silverstar Pack.

Frankly, he knew everything about their Alpha, Rex Silverstar.

A young, but extremely tested werewolf who had fought and defeated unthinkable enemies.

Despite his young age, his strength could no longer be doubted.

But other than the Alpha, the other pack members are… untested.

Laynkard knew that he was facing the Female Alpha; her appearance was a glaring sign—that provided no room for a mistake. Someone who inherits the Anti-Werewolf bloodline. But her reputation was built on lineage, not witnessed feats.

From the start, he doubted the substance of her strength.

And that doubt was proven wrong almost instantly.

Swoosh—!

Expertly, with a movement that betrayed no hesitation at all, Adhara slipped past Laynkard’s reaping claws and dashed past him. She kicked Laynkard’s back hard, propelling her straight to Olarim a few steps behind.

An excited smile crossed his face.

Just like Laynkard, he also had only woken up, and an intense battle like this made him feel alive.

A flurry of swipes came at Adhara.

She dodged them with extreme reaction speed and decisiveness, scanning the pattern of the flurry and locating the weak spot in one second. Violet flames burst from her body, blocking Olarim’s eyes from finding her.

Sliding to the side, going low to take out his ankles, or even stepping back to launch a bigger attack.

Olarim could already predict what her next move would be.

But all predictions were wrong.

Adhara didn’t reposition; she remained in her original path and burst through the violet flames.

Her two fingers were locked together.

She thrusts forward at the caught off-guard Olarim and found the Ice and Moon King Mark.

A violent burst of her energy invaded the King Mark, causing immense internal damage—that changed Olarim’s expression from excited to anger in an instant. The King Mark is a sign of strength, but it was also a telltale of a weak point.

Adhara used that weak point, and it was effective.

Growl—!

A furious growl escaped Olarim’s mouth as pain spread across his entire body.

His kingly energy leaked uncontrollably.

Realizing that he had underestimated Adhara too much, he swung his arm, putting more power and speed into it. He had only woken up into this new era—and the last thing he wanted to do after waking up was to die instantly.

Adhara avoided the swing and leaped over his head.

She landed behind Olarim and swung backward without aiming.

Her seething silver claws struck Olarim’s neck, searching through the dense fur and outer layer of his skin without trouble. Every muscle inside her arm then contracts, summoning the needed strength for her claws to push through.

And with a final sound of a clean snap of a porcelain doll’s head parting from its body, Adhara claimed the growling head of Olarim of the Night’s Triarchy.

All of it happened in the time it took Laynkard to glance over his shoulder.

Blood drew beautiful arcs in the air.

Every single person who was watching the battle, be it the opposing army or the Great Army, held their breath as their widening eyes fixed on Olarim’s severed head that flew from his shoulders. In that very moment, the world seemed to halt.

No one could process what happened fast enough.

It was also true for both Evelyn and Gistella, who were watching attentively.

Only when Adhara caught Olarim’s severed head with her bare hand did the world finally resume.

Everyone drew in a sharp breath in pure shock at what they witnessed.

The Night’s Triarch is the elite force of the royal guardians, and save for Laynkard, Olarim had been occupying his position for a few hundred years. Some even put his strength at the low middle-echelon of the Alpha Primes.

From the moment Adhara allowed the duel to be a two-versus-one, many reacted violently.

Most of the enemy ranks wore sneers at her blatant challenge—in their eyes, Adhara seemed to be more than courting a quick and ugly death. As for the soldiers from the Great Army, they watched with tight faces, uneasy about her challenge.

For them, this felt like a gambit too far.

It would be better for Mavok, or any other of their season leaders, to be the one stepping forward.

Not because she was weaker, but because the implications of her death would be more catastrophic.

But now, the reason Adhara allowed this became apparent to everyone.

Adhara allowed the other side to send two warriors because it simply made no difference.

Just as she showed, in a matter of seconds, the duel returned to normal again after she made a very quick work of Olarim. Someone well-known and extremely experienced was killed in an instant, before any of them could even take a second breath after the duel started.

Blood dripped down like a waterfall as Adhara lifted Olarim’s severed head higher.

Her eyes scanned the opposing army, and then to Princess Selene on the balcony.

It was the first death of the last battle.

Adhara made sure to make a statement by killing one of the strongest ones.

“She killed him instantly…” Gistella uttered in complete shock. “How strong is she right now?”

Believing in Adhara is one thing—but seeing her excelling in the battle like it was a walk in the park was another thing entirely. She was ready to help Adhara in case the need arose, but who would’ve expected the one needing help was the other side?

“Far stronger it seemed,” Evelyn’s eyes narrowed at her fur.

Now, the fur around her neck area has a tinge of violet, exactly like the color of her flames.

She was using a spell or a technique that boosts her strength and reaction time by a mile.

Evelyn didn’t know exactly how she got it, but it should be recent.

Perhaps as recent as her battle against the bastard son of the Origin, Sven.

’Seems like even I underestimated you, Adhara,’ She thought inside, now coming to the realization that she could count on Adhara more than she normally would. Then, she looked up at Princess Selene, who was shocked too.

Though the distance between them, Evelyn could see that Princess Selene’s mind was a mess.

One of her trusted guardians was killed in an instant.

A bad start to this battle.

’Adhara rattled her even further,’ Evelyn thought inside, elated.

But at the same time, she was worried that this might push Princess Selene to the edge and make her do something reckless and outright stupid. One that would put all of them, not only the Great Army, but all of them in danger’s grip.

After all, a cornered animal is the most dangerous animal.

“HAHAHK!” Laynkard’s eyes sparkled with uncontrollable excitement, only now realizing that Adhara wasn’t the exact same—as those fireworks. She was the real deal, and he wanted nothing more than to test how strong she really was. “You’re different! Praise the full moon for this battle!”

Just as Laynkard was about to pounce on Adhara.

Resume the duel that was supposed to be the very thrill that would pump his old blood.

A shrill growl reverberated through the air with a commanding authority.

“Slaughter them!!”

The command cut through the air as sharply as the tip of a knife.

It echoed over the stilled battlefield—where every held breath and watchful eye was locked on the duel at the space between the two armies—on Adhara and Laynkard, who were about to move again. But the two of them halted abruptly at the command.

A sudden, profound silence descended, heaving than any noise.

It was the silence of a world holding its heart in its throat.

Heads turned as one, humans and supernaturals alike, looked up toward the source of this voice.

Princess Selene stood at the edge of the balcony, her arm extended after swiping horizontally, and her expression a mask of burning anger. Despite their agreement, settling this with a battle, she decided to end it one-sidedly.

Her command had severed it.

For a suspended heartbeat, the battle existed in a perfect, fragile limbo.

Evelyn, the Alpha Primes, the war-leaders—all processed the rupture in the plan.

And in the next second, understanding dawned upon them swiftly and darkly.

Princess Selene has backed away from the agreement.

ROAR—!

On the opposing side, the leader Alpha Prime broke the spell of silence that enshrouded the battlefield with a thunderous roar. He threw back his head and roared. It wasn’t a sound of anger, but rather more of a tectonic signal that shattered the stillness and burst the dam.

Since the princess had spoken her words, the war would continue.

The rebellion force charged, shaking the ground underneath their feet.

From the Great Army’s side, Mavok’s answering roar came a second later.

It was a signal that snapped everyone back to focus, and also a signal that there was no stopping now.

In the next second was total, destructive, and terrible chaos.

Both armies collided like tides from two different seas.

They met not with strategy, but with a catastrophic release of pent-up fury. The air vanished beneath the cacophony of iron on claw, shield on fang, and the raw-throated screams of creatures tearing into each other for the betterment of their future.

The ground, hard-packed a moment before, grew slick and dark in an instant.

Shamans from both sides floated and threw their powerful boosting power into the fray.

War Spells unwove through the ranks—pushing every single soldier past their limits, and heightening the intensity of the battle. The very light fractured into pulses of colorful palettes that were highlighted by the bleak and muted color of the canyon.

Boom—!

Splash!

At the brutal forefront, werewolves tangled with orcs in a whirl of muscle and splintering bone.

Dwarven weapons flashed, ringing against scaled furs, while Tigermen moved like living storms with their martial arts. Over it all, lethal rain fell as elven arches loose volley after whispering volley, finding a gap in the chaos to cause more deaths.

On the highest rear of the Great Army, an elven captain swept his hand down.

Another elf, stationed at the outer stone ring, saw the signal.

He turned and knelt, nodding to the four figures who had held their positions in perfect stillness.

All of them placed their palms upon a circular runic formation.

And then, the formation awoke.

An emerald light, deep as a forest heart, ignited in intricate lines across the canyon rim. The air hummed with gathered power. From hidden placements along the cliffs, countless ballista-sized arrows, each as thick as a warrior’s leg, were launched skyward.

They climbed, tipped with the same glowing green, hung for a moment at their zenith, and then turned.

Like falling meteors guided by vengeful minds, they angled downward automatically.

Their paths curved unerringly toward the heart of the rebellion’s charge.

Evelyn watched this in anger, “Princess Selene, you coward!”