Chapter 14: The Array of Bone-Shield Phantoms

With a massive thud, the man’s body slammed against the wall before he could control his step.

The other man, Shank, who was about to stride forward, shouted, "Goritti, careful! This fucker is doing this again," as he looked around slowly, his step careful and calculating as his claws stood ready on alert.

Moon had vanished.

Vanished from the place he was standing just before.

"Motherfucker, come out if you have the guts! Don’t hide in your gutter hole like some cagewhore," Goritti growled as he stood up, blood seeping from his broken nose.

Just then, with a whoosh, Moon’s body appeared behind the third man, Chika, who was guarding the door. His hand slashed down at the man’s nape—on the exact spot at the base of his skull.

The man froze instantly as a sharp pain shot through his body. He slammed down on the floor.

Moon stood there, his face still sneering as he slowly raised his middle finger and provoked the others to come closer. His leg tapped on the floorboard in a rhythm.

Tap...

The other man, Shank—with claws and big, sharp nails—roared in a fury as his claws tore through the air in front of Moon’s face.

Moon’s lean body blurred as he dropped his center of gravity with a sharp, fluid pivot spin on his heel. Narrowly evading the brute’s nails by a fraction of an inch, his slender finger stabbed into the man’s wrist joint.

Shank’s face contorted with pain. He hissed and threw a punch with his other hand when Goritti was approaching from Moon’s back.

Moon took the punch head-on as his face was bruised and cut with nails, but before Shank could relish the hit, he heard Goritti’s sharp grunt of pain from behind Moon.

Moon had shoved his elbow backwards hard into the brute’s center of the chest.

"ARGH!"

The man stumbled back, his heavy boots scraping on the floorboard. Moon took this chance to pivot and spin away from the middle to the west corner. His toe tapped in a quick succession.

Tap Tap..

His fingers flicked as he threw a stone at Shank’s back, aiming for the crack of his butt. But Shank had already spun around and moved away.

"Tch, missed!" Moon said disappointedly.

Chika, who was lying on the floor near the door like a log, hissed in pain. "Damn it, don’t be so cocky! Just wait till the Alpha comes out from his rest and tears you apart."

Moon raised his brows. "So soon? Did his dick heal?"

He slowly stepped to the other corner as he spoke, looking leisurely at the men.

Tap Tap Tap...

Moon’s toes brushed the floor deliberately.

The three men instantly froze. Such blatant blasphemy against the Alpha was something they didn’t even dare to acknowledge.

Still, they couldn’t help but look at each other with deep understanding.

’So, what Cassia said was true; he really was bitten by a mongrel in the dick...’

Their thoughts didn’t have time to waver long as Moon’s kick landed squarely on Shank’s crotch.

"Ugh!"

Shank hunched in pain, and before Moon could retreat, he cupped Moon’s ankle and yanked his leg up. The gravity of the angle slammed Moon’s head down on the floor.

The old wood cracked sharply as Shank shoved Moon to the floor, and Goritti quickly grabbed Moon’s hand.

As they pinned him under, their eyes glowed with a rabid, amber fury. Bones started to crack and pop in the cramped space. Coarse fur burst through their torn shirts as their snouts elongated.

They didn’t fully shift.

They couldn’t. But in this half-beastly form, they looked even more terrifying.

Their adrenaline was now completely fueled by a bloodthirsty aggression—from pain, from humiliation. This was already their third attempt to tame this deadly witch.

’The Array of Bone-Shield Phantoms,’ Moon chanted in his mind.

Shank snapped his jaws and swiped a jagged claw at Moon’s chest. Moon ducked and rolled across the cracked floorboards toward the corner.

The beast’s jaws snapped shut on empty air; he howled frantically at this slippery prey and threw himself at Moon’s back.

Moon darted left as he slid, his fingers brushing against the hidden charcoal lines on the floor.

Tap Tap Tap Tap...

Goritti became impatient; his claws missed Moon’s hair, ripping the ribbon on his bun as Moon threw a punch at his face and ducked again, leaning his weight on his elbow.

Moon’s tied black hair opened in clusters as he fell face-first in the center of the room.

He looked at them with teary eyes—bloodied and broken.

He looked so ethereal on the old, filthy floor that it evoked the men’s pity, desire, and lust.

The two beasts snarled, their agitation spiking. They followed him like an enchanted moth, their hands faltering for a moment.

Moon was waiting—waiting for that little moment.

On that momentary relapse, Moon threw himself to the side. His hand slammed into the floor.

A crimson stone shone in his hand as he pressed the stone down hard.

’Activate,’ Moon shouted.

Time seemed to slow down.

Moon didn’t flinch.

A surreal, beautiful smile flickered across his pale face.

Before Goritti or Shank could react to his words, the room churned with a wave of hot air. The room instantly filled with howling and rumbling.

Ashen black fog clouded from the corners of the little room as it slowly materialised into four phantom wolves.

Shank immediately lunged for the door without even taking his friend.

"Holy Bloody Moon! Run, it’s the phantom spirits."

"Fuck this witch."

But it was already too late.

The phantoms of the dark wolves had already pounced on them.

A shrill scream tore through the air of the Last Hole, which startled even the people working far away. They simultaneously looked at the place they always thought was dead during the day.

Vadira trembled from his little room behind the bar counter. An ominous feeling shrouded his heart. He took a hesitant step toward the stairs.

Then he saw it.

The black cloud of a phantom wolf.

The two men on the upper floor scrambled and fell down the stairs.

Another body fell straight from the air, still covered in a dense, bloody aura.

All Vadira could see was a black, grotesque meat paste and the bloody men falling from the stairs.

He shivered as he hurriedly sent a transmission to the palace administration through their pack mark.

’Damn it, didn’t the guards say he was just a rogue witch with no value and decent witchcraft? How could this happen?’ he muttered.

He fled from the back door in fear of infection. As he ran, he looked pale.

He shouted at the wolf hiding behind the bar, "Nalan, that was a real witch, damn it! Lock the Hole away right now."

Nalan, who was in charge of guarding Moon, almost stumbled from the tree.

"Vadira, did you drink that Black-tar Ale again? That puny little brat is nothing but skin and bones; I could snap him with one ha..."

Before he could finish, he saw two bloody men crawl out like ghosts.

Half dead.

His eyes narrowed into a slit. He sensed a powerful wolf aura emanating from them. He was not defective like them. He was a soldier. His gut was saying he sensed a real wolf strike on them.

Nalan froze on the spot.

"What the...! The Alpha will kill me now."

He jumped down and ran inside the bar, frantically sending his superior a signal. If a real witchcraft formed here and killed a real wolf, this would be a disaster.

--

Moon was sitting in the middle of the room.

On the eye of the array.

His dishevelled black hair was scattered around his sweaty back. His eyes were blood-red with intense killing intent. His nails dug into his palm to keep his sanity.

He could hear countless cries and roars, the clinking clatter of weapons, and smell a heart-wrenching, foul smell. The roar of the beast and the sound "Kill. Kill. Kill." echoed in his mind.

The black phantom wolves had been dispersed with Moon’s last shred of Qi.

He knew the days of freely walking in this Last Hole were over for him. But he still was not afraid. He spread his palm—bloody and shrouded in black mist.

"Goddess, isn’t your system going to reward me now?" He whispered.