novelraw Chapter 241 : Chapter 241
Chapter 241 : Chapter 241
Volume 4, Chapter 29 — “Werewolf Domain”:
The werewolves were caught off guard. As masters of night ambush, they had never before been counter‑ambushed. After all, with the Beastmen’s level of intellect, they surely knew nothing of stratagem. In their battles, they favored brute force over tactics.
Against these brawny opponents, even without matching raw strength, a few clever moves could make them suffer greatly.
In Beastman territory, they had always succeeded. But this time they had met their match—they struck iron, not flesh.
When the smell of singed fur drifted, they realized they were on fire—howling in pain, rolling across the ground, their fur burning.
At that moment they looked less like wolves and more like a pack of mangy dogs.
Astrid struck again in midair. Her silver blade flames twisted around werewolves, burning them mercilessly. Their once fire‑resistant fur now became a burden—flames spreading upward, consuming every part of them.
Moving fireballs writhed and rolled, wailing in agony, instinctively seeking streams—but in this wilderness, and with the rain nearly done, there was no water to quench them.
Wild beasts fear fire naturally. A few werewolves, unable even to think of their allies, scattered in terror.
Teresa reached out to test—rain had ceased. Only a few stray droplets perforated her pale hand.
She glanced at her companions behind her—they would surely be awakened by the clash. It was impossible to drive off the invaders in silence. Dreams torn mid‑sleep, everyone would be startled. They would have to take shifts on watch through the rest of the night.
Yet not all were roused.
Back in the tent, a certain pink‑furred little cat curled deeply among the bedding, breathing steadily, sleeping so deeply her face turned rosy—poised to bubble at her nose. Teresa could not help but think of a cat curled before a furnace in winter.
Such noise outside yet Wenfu remained asleep—how deep a slumber!
Teresa suppressed a mix of amusement and exasperation.
If she did not wake Wenfu, then the others would rotate the night watch. Teresa and Astrid volunteered first (elves needing little sleep). Felicia said she couldn’t sleep, so the three sat by the tent entrance, chatting softly and analyzing the situation.
Yimi, awake but uninterested in watch duty, remained curled over her book.
“Forest‑beyond demons—werewolves?” Yimi asked.
“Very likely,” Teresa replied. “We’re already quite close to the front line. It’s not surprising for werewolves to infiltrate here.”
“These werewolves’ primary target wasn’t us, but likely the Beastmen,” she continued, marking a red circle on the Beastman map to denote their location.
“They differ from Beastmen—not just in intellect, but in tactical sense. Small squads, nighttime raids, exploiting their night vision, striking weak points in the Beastmen ranks.”
“In cleverness, they exceed Beastmen by far,” Teresa paused, glancing at Astrid and Felicia sitting cross-legged. “Don’t you feel something odd?”
“Odd?” Felicia raised an eyebrow. Astrid frowned.
“The werewolves’ strength is clearly greater than the Beastmen’s. Yet they are locked in stalemate with them, gaining little advantage.”
“Exactly that,” Teresa tapped toward the front lines. “If werewolves are more intelligent, more tactical… and the Beastmen chieftains fight on two fronts, drained by slave uprisings—why have the werewolves not forced a decisive victory yet?”
Felicia mulled the thought, sensing dissonance but not knowing where it lay.
“Too many coincidences,” Teresa mused. “Both wolves and Beastmen expose the same structural flaw. The forest separating them was destroyed. War accelerates all tensions. Ruglien is now a tangled mass.”
“But the forest was destroyed by you, right?” Felicia looked at Teresa.
“Yes, but that was by my own will. It’s unlikely someone else planned this far in advance. Could there be someone capable of orchestrating chaos on this scale? Probably not even my full power could do it.”
“Do you recall the underground lab we discovered on our first dive into Ruglien?”
“Of course.”
“That lab could not have been made by beast tribes or werewolves alone. The creature patched from many species—who else but demonkind would do such abominations?” Felicia said, recalling the gore and horror.
“Exactly. The lab’s creators may be deeply tied to Ruglien’s present chaos.”
“To design that lab, the demon must equal or surpass human intellect. None of the demons we’ve met so far fit that category.”
“The hidden hand may lie deep in Ruglien—perhaps in the ruins of the old imperial palace.”
“Likely that the Demon King dwells there now.” Felicia’s confidence showed. “If we could kill the Demon King, the world would return to peace.”
Teresa and Astrid fell silent at that bold claim.
“Is killing a Demon King truly enough to restore order?” Teresa asked. “Can eliminating one person save a world?”
“From ancient ages, no person has had enough power to control a world,” Felicia responded.
“No matter the rebels’ righteousness or wrongdoing: while they persist, the Light‑breeds will never find peace.”
Teresa shook her head. It was not so simple. Her instincts told her this was far more complicated.
***
Morning came. Wenfu crawled out on all fours, stretching, tail straightened, cat‑ears poised. Eyes glistening with sleep. “Good morning—eh? Everyone’s already up?”
Finding the tent empty, she hurried out. Her teammates were already cooking breakfast.
“Wait! Felicia, you leave that—I'll do it!” She rushed to take over the cooking tasks.
They divided tasks: Astrid set up the pot, Teresa gathered wood, Yimi quietly sat reading. Felicia was halted by Wenfu’s insistence.
The only one lounging was a golden-haired girl—nonchalant, reading while waiting for breakfast.
“Wenfu, did you sleep well?” Astrid asked.
“Mm, very well, meow.” Wenfu’s cheeks were rosy, oblivious of the near-catastrophes of last night.
“Silly child,” Teresa teased, brushing her nose.
“Oh meow! I’m not silly!” Wenfu pouted. She looked down and noticed many scorch marks and singed fur on the ground.
“Eh? Teresa, what are those?” she asked.
“Nothing much. Here—look at this.” Teresa withdrew a cat toy (catnip sprig) and waved it before Wenfu’s eyes.
“Don’t treat me like a child… meow!” Wenfu feigned ignoring it, but couldn’t resist reaching for the toy.
Captivated by its sway, she forgot the burnt fur entirely.
Elves need not eat breakfast, but Astrid seemed very fond of the morning ritual. Even without real hunger, she’d partake in a few bites.
After a simple breakfast, they dismantled the tent and continued their march.
***
“Thwack!” Something soft but substantial struck Yimi’s head.
“Teresa, what are you doing?” Yimi glared dully. Teresa tossed her a brand new notebook.
“Your roster must be kept daily. I entrust the team log to you.”
“Is that how you ‘entrust’ someone? And why me?” Yimi grumbled at the assignment.
“Because you’re the Divine Child. Also, during camp, I caught you goofing off.”
“Sun‑Moon Radiance does not tolerate slackers.”
“...Huh.” Yimi begrudgingly opened the notebook, capping her pen and muttering her trademark “I’ll kill you someday,” before scratching words on paper.
The terrain was desolate; few signs of life. Abruptly, several cylindrical structures came into view, and the sound of water trickling.
Teresa halted, Yimi looked up. No need for Teresa to alert: the clamor of battle echoed—and any normal eared would hear it.
Around the circular buildings, sharpened trees formed a palisade. The tallest drum tower bore a crude white cloth banner, as if in surrender.
Considering Beastmen lacked dye tech, it was likely a token banner for intimidation.
The colony had water access—located upstream. Only a chieftain district could be built here.
But they seemed beset by trouble.
On the hillside, Beastmen forts stood. Shadowy shapes pounced halfway up. Against the werewolf charge, Beastmen clearly strained to hold.
Bodies tumbled downward—both the hyenas and the Beastmen dead. A thick, coagulated blood layer covered the slope. The battle had raged long.
They arrived in time to witness it.
Gazing at both sides fighting in brutal close combat, Yimi calmly recorded in her notebook: Ruglien’s current state, the rise of new demon breeds, every detail she saw.
“Shall we intervene?” Felicia asked, licking her lips—whereas most would say “don’t meddle,” she wanted action.
Wenfu trembled.
“This is not our business,” Teresa shook her head. She wished the parties would settle peacefully—but clearly that was unrealistic.
“Onward, into the werewolf lands. Let’s see where that domain ends.”
Wenfu exhaled in relief.
So they skirted the battlefield and took a rugged slope into the werewolf dominion.
Unlike the barren Beastman lands, this was the first time they saw verdant grass and rabbits in Ruglien—a paradise compared to barren tracts.
They stepped into a forest. Teresa sensed nature responding—then something odd struck her.
Not only her; Yimi and Astrid’s faces also showed unease.
The forest wildlife seemed scarce.
Only a few animals, hiding deep. The forest felt dead and eerily quiet.