Werewolf hunting rules

This was not Dornish, but another language, but he somehow understood it.

The color gradually returned to Clayton's eyes, and his perspective seemed to be at an extremely high position.

He could see that under the blue and cloudy sky, the continuous mountain peaks surrounded by mist were not far away, with the meandering river underneath. At the foot of the mountain, a small village emitting cooking smoke was nestled there. Some people were dressed in ancient clothes. People in fine clothes gathered by the river to wash themselves.

The owner of the perspective is looking there.

Clayton immediately realized that he was now watching the memories of his ancestors.

This was undoubtedly not the land occupied by Dorne, but Mensis, and the light clothes and bright plants he had never seen before proved that this was a warmer region. At the same time, he noticed that this ancestor must have extremely terrifying long-sightedness. From the perspective, Clayton could even see a clear scene about ten miles away. This did not match his own ability, and the environment was inconsistent with his ability. The conflict of reality made him feel dizzy as if he was drunk.

He tried to turn his perspective to see the person talking to this ancestor, but this was an illusion of the past, and he could not make Saga make a move that deviated from history.

The female voice spoke again: "Sakya, your sister is here, aren't you going to welcome her?"

The ancestor known as Sakya finally spoke. His voice was similar to Clayton's, but deeper, like thunder rolling in the air. The scenery he was looking at was still peaceful and beautiful, unaffected by the low pressure here. Influence.

"Legarde, you shouldn't come here, we have separated."

He didn't look back, and the woman behind him made a strange inhaling sound, as if she was laughing.

"I just visit my brother occasionally, you won't kill me for this, right?"

After hearing their conversation, Clayton suddenly had a bad feeling.

Saga seems to have little patience for his sisters.

"Tell me why you're here."

"The Batagon people paid me a tribute of forty cows, and they asked me to do something. The prince of the Snatad people, Airgu, who was hostile to them, was about to pass through our land. He was going to kill him alone. A hero who has died against a giant, they hope I won’t let him walk out of here.”

"He's quite powerful, but it won't be difficult for you to kill him."

"Yes, but I have other ideas." The woman said: "I heard that El Gu is a rare and beautiful man. It would be great if he could stay and serve me. I just want to have a few of my own. The child. I can kill him, but it is not easy to capture him alive under the siege of other followers, that’s why I need you.”

Clayton was shocked.

This woman was the biological sister of his ancestor, and of course she was considered his ancestor. Knowing that his ancestor was so wild and experienced in the battlefield, he still felt the overwhelming impact.

"Regard, if you have too many children, it will be the Batagon people's turn to ask others to kill us. They will not sit back and watch a huge werewolf clan develop here." Saga's deep voice echoed on the mountain.

"Food is limited in each season. Our father took risks to expand the territory just for the idea of ​​having more heirs, and finally fell into the shaman's trap."

Leigard ignored his warning.

"That will happen later. If El Gu is as good as the legend says, our children will not be afraid of the Batagons, and they will continue to pay tribute to us for a thousand years."

Saga was silent for a while: "This is the last thing I can do to help you."

His sisters still want to keep him.

"I can give you thirty cows, or thirty-five."

"That's not what I meant, Leigard, I'm leaving."

The woman's voice asked in confusion: "Where else can you go after leaving the fiefdom King Solomon gave us?"

Clayton was alerted to the fact that Solomon was the founder and ruler of the world's first empire, the "Empire" of the Manses. According to some rumors, this king was nurtured by wolf milk and had an unclear relationship with werewolves.

From what she said, it seemed that Solomon's descendants still ruled here, and the First Empire had not yet been destroyed.

Then this should be the end of the golden age.

He patiently continued to listen, while Saga was not so accepting of Solomon's rule.

"It can be done anywhere. As for the fiefdom, you know this is a joke. We still have to hunt and graze with our own hands on our own fiefdom. Our distant relatives regard us as uncivilized wild wolves and imprison us here for them. Guarding the frontier against the Snataders, I really can’t think of a reason to be grateful to them.”

"Oh, okay, then after you leave, I will be the Marquis here."

Clayton could only hear a chuckle from Leigard's voice, and it was obvious that her brother's concerns were not a matter worth pondering for her.

"I allow you to occupy this place, but you can't come until I leave." Saga, the lieutenant's direct ancestor, said.

Leigard's voice came closer unknowingly: "Of course, I won't be like those 'heartless distant relatives'," she said realistically: "Even after you leave, I will leave a place for you here. Yes, you can come back and reunite with us at any time."

Saga's perspective finally started to move, and his voice also fluctuated.

"I said, Leigard, you should talk about this after I leave. Tian'an Mountain is still my territory. This was not given to me by Solomon's descendants, it was taken by me myself!"

Clayton shuddered from the bottom of his heart. As the perspective turned, he finally saw Leigard's appearance.

A giant black wolf lay lying on a ruined wall. Judging from the patterns, it was once a sky temple created by the ancient Manses. The marbles had been decayed to the point of disgrace, but she was as comfortable as a statue of a god living in an alcove. Lying on the white base covered with moss, the coquettish yellow eyes were looking at it lazily.

Even if this was just an illusion, Clayton could still feel the breathtaking power from those eyes.

When the giant wolf raised its limbs, the rolling stone larger than the human body was easily pushed away. Under the black fur, the great movement of flesh and blood almost made Clayton fall down.

Without waking up, he knew that his heart must be beating violently in his current body. This was a matter of course. The werewolf's blood responded to this scene, paying tribute to its ancestors, just like the tide responded to the moon.

And when the perspective climbed again, he realized that Sakya was the more powerful one.

The werewolf was curled up on the ground. From a distance of five yards, Julius could still vaguely hear the fierce heartbeat and the abnormal heat.

The wolf blood is flowing faster in the veins, and the curse given by tonight's moon phase is changing Clayton's body. The dirty blood carrying the alien curse seeps out of his veins, soaking the ground, and has an unforgettable effect. Fishy smell.

The ceremony seemed to be going well, and he speculated that the process might be completed within three hours.

Julius was filled with distress at the thought of having to wait for several more hours. As the leader of the ceremony, he couldn't rest during this period, but he was not a dark descendant, and the reverse schedule of day and night was harmful to his health.

He looked at the werewolf lying on the ground with a hint of envy in his eyes.

These naturally reproduced dark descendants can use the curse ritual to sense their ancestors, but he failed to inherit his father's power. Even if he uses other methods to trace his bloodline, these detection methods will only be blocked by the power of the forest elf. Naturally exempt.

He could only dream repeatedly of another pathetic woman who had created her own life.

The desperate girl on the street, without any friends and addicted to drugs, finally chose to run into the forest and commit suicide. Groene poured all her body flesh and blood into the rejuvenation pods used by forest spirits for reproduction, and gave birth to her. is just another mortal.

Julius felt that he was just a remnant of a failed spell, and that he had inherited nothing from Groene.

There was no love in the reason for his birth, nor was it even derived from desire. It was just a forest spirit that transformed dead animals into flesh and blood.

Another half hour passed after he was freed from grief. He was bored and reached out to gently tap the tree stump he was sitting on.

"My dear friend, will you answer me?"

He has done this behavior many times. From the time when he expected that he would one day awaken the power of the forest spirit, to the hopelessness of knowing the truth later, he just regarded this behavior as a quirk to pass the time. In short, he had never done it before. Get a response once.

A shaking feeling came from the tree stump under him.

Julius's body trembled and he jumped up suddenly. The fear in his heart was far greater than the surprise.

He knew he would never be a wood spirit, so this couldn't be the stump actually responding to him.

Something is approaching.

He stretched out his hand and wiped it in the cup that collected Clayton's blood, then wiped the remaining blood on his eyes, using it as a casting material to temporarily light up the night eyes, and then climbed up a big tree with all the leaves. Looking out, he saw a group of people heading this way on the road.

They will undoubtedly pass through here.

Clayton Bello had to be hidden.

He came down from the tree, ignoring the risk of the werewolf losing control, and directly untied the chain, preparing to drag it away.

However, when he retracted his hand, he accidentally touched Clayton's leg. The rich texture of flesh and blood had been lost. The werewolf's strong body became thinner without knowing it, and the temperature of his blood began to turn cold. Just lifting the alien curse will not lead to such a result. This is a phenomenon that can occur only if the curse binding ceremony fails.

Julius pressed the werewolf's skin unbelievingly. The black fur continued to sink under the force, and the flesh underneath lost most of its elasticity.

He confirmed that the flesh and blood essence beneath the skin was quickly dissipating. If this continues, even if the group of people doesn't notice their existence, Clayton will die tonight.

When he thought of this possibility, he ignored the imminent arrival of the riders and kept thinking about what went wrong with this universal ritual preparation that had been tried hundreds of times. Eventually he came to the conclusion that the problem lay with Clayton himself.

Clayton Bello is a rare werewolf sealer.