[V9C12] Wolf
Translated by Jodas 9: Battle for the Tower“So you were the Werewolf after all… Finn.”
The first discrepancy was the way the Werewolf, with its hostage, moved around.
It kept wandering around the Wedge Tower’s campus, howling all the while, as if shouting ‘Please find me!’
At first, she thought it could have been trying to call out to its allies far away — but that probably wasn’t right.
For whatever reason, that Werewolf was wandering close to the Second Spire: Golden Needle, where all of the Extermination Office mages were.
It didn’t look like it was trying to pick a fight with a strong warrior. Yet it didn’t show any signs of running either.
What did that wolf even want? The moment that thought struck her, she realized.
“…You were trying to act as bait so Julius could run away, weren’t you?”
So long as he kept shouting, announcing to the world that ‘A Monster is here! A scary wolf is here!’ He would draw the mages of the Second Spire to his position.
Julius froze in place with a pallid face. Of course he did. Julius was the one who was closest to Finn.
That was why Roswitha thought she had to be the one to say it.
“How about you at least let that girl on your shoulder go?”
“……”
“That girl’s got nothing to do with this, right?”
Finn said nothing.
Suddenly, Roswitha felt that something else was off.
There was no doubt that Finn had run around in Werewolf form to allow Julius to escape.
…But was there really a reason for him to take an ordinary girl as a hostage?
(I guess it would make it harder to attack him? … But I feel like Finn doesn’t think that way…)
Could it be that this girl had a role to play in this as well?
As if responding to Roswitha’s speculation, the Primordial Beast ordered Finn.
“Hey, little cub. Get moving and bring that thing on your shoulder to the King.”
“B– but Lord Primordial Beast… Julius and…”
“I won’t kill human brats. Get moving!”
Finn looked conflicted, but after being glared at by the Primordial Beast, he took off.
At that moment, Julius’ face shot up in realization.
“I see, so that girl is the contractor.”
“…What are you talking about?”
Despite Roswitha’s question, Julius refused to elaborate.
Julius spoke quickly to order Agniol.
“Agniol, follow after Finn. Prioritize protecting that girl!”
“Like I’d let you!”
The next moment, Agniol — in the form of a giant red lion — was cut to shreds by a silver tornado.
At the same time, Agniol let out a fireball. A fireball of immense power, far exceeding what even an advanced mage could manage.
(At this rate we’ll get caught in the blast too!)
Roswitha grabbed as many sticks in her right hand and tossed them into the air.
“Thy irrational devotion, the rain that dwells within thee, o fish who hast lost thy legs, gather thy school.”
Water welled up around the sticks, forming countless fish that swarmed together. Those fish formed a wall, protecting Roswitha and Julius from Agniol’s flames.
The Primordial Beast cut clean through that wall of water with its claws. By the time Roswitha could think ‘Ah!’ the Primordial Beast had rammed into her, sending her tumbling across the ground.
Julius summoned flame arrows with a shortened incantation. Seeing that attack, with weak potency arrows but a large quantity of them, the Beast’s face smiled in enjoyment.
“There’s another, isn’t there?”
The Primordial Beast leapt into the air. Ella, who had been hiding in the bushes preparing a guiding formula let out a scream.
That guiding formula to gather a large volume of low-potency attacks to one place was the ‘Pretty Boy Cannon’ Wren had thought up for the magic battle against the Extermination Office.
But the Primordial Beast had known Ella was hiding in the bushes from the very beginning.
“ELLAAA…!”
Crawling on the ground, Roswitha screamed. She heard no response.
(No way, no way…)
Stepping out from behind the bushes, the Primordial Beast addressed the crawling Roswitha.
“I didn’t kill her. I don’t kill human brats. Brats still have room to grow.”
Julius chanted a slightly longer incantation, summoning three spears of flame. Just one of them would be enough to kill an ordinary Monster.
At the same time, Agniol, her body all torn up, let out a roar and jumped at it.
“You’ve got a good fire, but it’s still not hot enough.”
All three spears of flame hit the Primordial Beast directly. Three clean hits. But the Beast’s massive body didn’t catch fire. Only a faint layer of soot clung to the outside of its fur. The mana density of its fur was out of this world.
Just as one would coat a fur cloak in fat to make it waterproof, that silver wolf had coated its fur in mana, deflecting all of their magecraft.
Withstanding even Agniol’s flames, the Primordial Beast cut deeply into Agniol’s body.
Agniol’s form became enveloped in light before dissipating. Julius touched his ring and chanted. He must have been trying to save Agniol. Yet in that opening, the Primordial Beast lunged at Julius, barreling into him. Julius’ wispy body slammed against a tree before slumping down to the ground.
(This is the Primordial Beast that even Mama couldn’t beat…)
How could she have possibly said that she’d beat this thing all on her own.
It was far too overwhelming. Both the strength of its body and the mana it held.
That beast was a creature designed purely for strength.
Even without special abilities like breathing fire or controlling minds that other Monsters used, its body alone was enough to massacre all of its enemies.
Its impermeable body ran faster and jumped higher than anyone could compare. Its silver fur could brush off even an attack from a Greater Spirit, and its claws and fangs could rend through any and all things.
This creature was strong, plain and simple.
(We can’t beat this thing… But Finn…)
She was powerless.
Even though she’d said such boasting things to Finn in the past, she couldn’t make good on any of them.
How did Roswitha, this weak creature, look to Finn’s eyes?
All of a sudden, the Primordial Beast’s eyes perked up.
Slicing through the wind, a presence emerged running onto the scene. ‘Another wolf?’ She thought. That was the impression she got from its forceful, powerful footsteps.
This black shadow brandished a blade. That blade, glistening under the moonlight, was the color of gorgeous, tempered steel.
‘Clang!’ The sharp sound of two hard objects colliding against each other rang out.
A longsword clashed against the Primordial Beast’s claws. Holding its hilt was a black-haired boy with long bangs, Gerald Anker.
Roswitha pushed aside the pain over her body and screamed.
“Gerald, run!!… You’ll never win at close range!”
The Primordial Beast’s body was far too resilient. The force of its muscles dwarfed anything humans were capable of.
Those sharp claws bore down on Gerald’s shoulder. Gerald smoothly brought his sword up and blocked the attack. — No, even if he blocked it, he should have been blown away by the sheer force.
(Did he just… parry that?)
Gerald lowered his stance, then swung up the tip of his sword. Unable to reach the Primordial Beast’s body, the blade only cut off the tip of some of its furs.
Gerald planted his foot once more. His swing clearly aimed for its neck. The Primordial Beast leapt, and for the first time, opened the distance.
“Splendid. You’re still young, but you are the most worthy human I’ve seen today.”
Roswitha had known that Gerald was physically capable. After all, he had helped lead them to victory in the magic battle against the Extermination Office with his incredibly deft use of the drawing board shield.
However, seeing Gerald using a sword for the first time, Roswitha only now realized how ‘strong’ Gerald was.
As she stared intently at him, Roswitha noticed to her shock that Gerald’s whole body was stained in a gruesome red.
“Gerald!? You’re wounded…!”
“No, it’s not my blood… I’m fine.”
His mumbling, awkward way of speaking was unmistakably like Gerald. Yet for whatever reason, he gave off a completely different impression.
“It’s not yours…?”
“I was attacked by a bunch of birds on the way here, so…”
In the middle of their discussion, the Primordial Beast leapt at Gerald. Gerald twisted the upper half of his body to dodge the claws as he brought his blade to bear. It looked like the tip of his sword was about to slash through the Primordial Beast, but the Beast held the sword back with its claws. It reacted quickly.
Gerald must have understood that he would never win a pure contest of strength. He calmly twisted his sword at an angle, making the Primordial Beast’s claws slide to the side.
Then, he dropped his stance and moved to slide around the Primordial Beast’s flank. Naturally, he immediately stood back up, not letting his guard down for a second.
The Primordial Beast growled in a strangely delighted manner. — In a human sense, one could say it sounded like it couldn’t hold in its laughter.
“Those moves look familiar… The West. There was a swordsman from the West.”
“You’re well-studied.”
Gerald responded with a serious expression.
As if trying to dig at the ground, the Primordial Beast moved its claws slightly. If it were human, it might have been drumming its fingers on a table.
‘A swordsman from the West’ — Any citizen of the Empire would probably think of the same name.
“Ah, that’s right. Their descendants called themselves a strange name. By coincidence, a family that called themselves wolves just like us…”
A gust of wind blew through, and Gerald’s bangs flapped in the breeze. Hidden beneath those long bangs were a pair of sharp, wolf-like grey eyes.
The Primordial Beast bared its fangs with a smile.
“The Wolf of the West. The War Wolf of Warmberg.”