We last read Chapter 42, in which the werewolf villainess Carla Rosenblood a.k.a. Nightclaw goes on a unrestrained tirade against Remus—the alpha of the Order of Blood—and the other werewolves present after revealing that she's behind the more monstrous, demonic-looking werewolves who have come to overrun the Order's encampment. She and Remus get into an argument about the former's sadism and Remus's adapted precautions to curb said sadism, with Nightclaw also bringing up the concern of how wrong it is for someone to make someone else hide or give up their entire identity in order to fit into a group.....a lesson which would've likely been better applied in literally any other situation besides this one.
The bumbling werewolf guards Left and Right momentarily add some humor to the situation, and even Percy and the young werewolf pup Boris II give Nightclaw a well-needed chiding, but Nightclaw shrugs them aside as well. She then leaps toward Remus, poised to deliver a lethal slash across his chest.....only to have her jet-black claws blocked by that of her mate, Jet. Jet expresses heartbreak at how far Nightclaw has fallen, while Nightclaw accuses Jet of never really seeing her for her, being "asleep" to the true recesses of her personality. She even shows a rather repulsive side when Jet argues back with his thoughts about them eventually starting a family, instead countering by fully stating her intentions to keep doing so even after he's dead.
Remus eventually recovers and instructs Jet not to interfere again before willingly taking a knee and inviting Nightclaw to kill him, take control of the order, and fulfill her life's "destiny", much to the panic of Percy and the other werewolves. Nightclaw, despite some hesitation, almost murders him.....only for the serpentine superheroine Hailey a.k.a. The Viper, the vampires Lily Ladair and Theo Ladair, the police director Commissioner Marvin, and two other armored vehicles' worth of backup to swiftly arrive on the scene, with The Viper heralding her arrival by shooting a regular bullet into the back of Nightclaw's right paw just as it's about to come slashing down across Remus's chest.
The Viper—referring to Nightclaw by her human name, Carla—desperately tries to get Nightclaw to listen to reason, bringing up how Nightclaw used to look up to her and be an undeniably huge fan of her. The Viper also recalls the multiple times Nightclaw worked alongside her and the rest of the Paragons to save humanity on countless occasions, with Lily and Theo also adding their two cents to the mix by referencing the time they adventured with Nightclaw to stop the Cult of Lawless Animal Worshippers.....or the C.L.A.W., for short. The Viper momentarily tries a different angle by bringing up Carla's family.....but Nightclaw counters that they're all dead, so their wishes for her are completely null and void. But when The Viper brings up Nightclaw's long-lost endeavor of being a podcast host in her human life, the unhinged werewolf momentarily backs down.....only to snap back to her wrathful self after noticing a clip of silver bullets on The Viper's utility belt.
The chapter ended with a failed attempt from The Viper to explain herself.....before Nightclaw orders her newfound followers—the Death Riders—to attack and kill everyone present.
This time, the Order encampment descends into absolute chaos as the heroes struggle to put an end to Nightclaw's scheming.....
-POV: Carla Rosenblood a.k.a. Nightclaw-
Look at it. Just.....look at it. Really look at it. All the carnage, all the pained screams, all the bloodshed.....it's utter music to my honed ears.
It's everything I ever dreamed of ever since I initially became a werewolf.
It just took me a few years after the fact to actually realize it.
But now that I do, I wouldn't trade a single moment of it for the entire world.
The entire Order encampment has regressed into a practical war zone as the werewolves from the Order of Blood square off against the might of my newfound pack, the Death Riders.....with the serpentine superheroine The Viper and her team having also gotten in on the action, too.
The werewolves from both factions are capable of killing each other.....and apparently, now that The Viper has some silver bullets on her as well, she's capable of killing us, too.
To put it all more.....conveniently, it's Remus, Jet, Percy, Boris II, Pluto, The Viper's team—consisting of herself, Lily Ladair, Theo Ladair, Commissioner Marvin, and his backup—and the Order of Blood as a whole versus myself, Left, Right, Eviscerator, Goretooth, Gray Maw, and the full, unbridled might of the Death Riders.
Oh, and just to reiterate.....the Death Riders have gotten the Order of Blood beat in terms of raw numbers. Our fur, teeth, and claws are insurmountable......and it's about time the Order and their fruitless backup were made aware of that fact.
Regardless of how plentiful our ranks are, we would still be up at least one more werewolf had I not so brazenly killed my fourth lieutenant, Scrapper, back at the Death Riders' Den during my utterly sensational musical number.
Remember that? That was a rather fun sequence.
Poor thing ended up dying by my hands before seeing even the smallest sliver of my grand plans come to fruition.
Oh, well.
I would say that I feel bad for him.....but I don't.
And unlike other rulers and leaders who would so easily fall into the enticing trap of tyranny, sitting back on her ass and leaving her minions to do all the hard work.....I've actually thrown myself into the fray as well, utterly relishing the havoc I'm wreaking as I throw claws against the werewolves of the Order of Blood whom I genuinely thought were my friends.
I don't differentiate from my fellow werewolves within the Death Riders. As a matter of fact, I'm practically indistinguishable from the other lycanthropes in the raging hurricane of ferocity that's completely enveloped the encampment.
But, as a testament to how strong and firm my bond with the Death Riders has already grown, absolutely none of my minions dare to attack me.....because they can pick me out from the frenzied crowd.
Somehow.
I'll admit, I don't quite know the specifics behind it myself. I'm just glad that such "friendly fire" isn't occurring to begin with.
I slash an Order werewolf clean across his right inner thigh—making him yelp out in pain—before drilling at least five punches directly into his face at top speed. Once his face is nothing but a bloody and unrecognizable mess, I lift his entire body overhead and chuck it clear across the encampment, squashing at least four other Order werewolves under that one's weight.
But before his flying body has even hit his friends, I've already leapt away with remarkable grace.
And then, I prove that I'm the best alpha for the Death Riders in yet another way.....as if my awfully captivating musical number and unprecedented execution of Scrapper weren't enough already.
When I land, it's on my feet. And I land just a couple of feet away from a Rider werewolf dueling with an Order werewolf.....and they appear to be at a stalemate.
But with my arrival, things have just looked up for the Rider.
"Go for the eyes!" I roar fiercely at the Rider werewolf, giving him the perfect piece of advice that he needs in order to turn the tide and come out on top. I, of course, say the command in perfect and comprehensible English due to the special translator earpiece nestled within my ear.
Upon hearing me, he takes my words to heart, and rakes the jet-black claws on his right paw clean across both of the Order werewolf's eyes, completely blinding him and making him howl in a rather devastating tone indeed.
Now, with the Order werewolf fully blinded, the Rider werewolf is free to plunge said claws directly into the Order werewolf's chest—making the Order werewolf fall to the grass on his back—before the Rider werewolf clamps his jaws around his opponent's neck and summarily snaps it.
"Good job!" I applaud sincerely, before fluidly leaping away once again.
I then land near another skirmish; this time, the Rider werewolf is being held in a chokehold by an Order werewolf, with the former being at a clear disadvantage.
But I know just how to get my beloved minion out of this.
"You! Break his jaw!" I bark ferociously at my devoted minion, both giving the Rider werewolf a burst of strength and a way for him to get out of this.
The Rider werewolf suddenly snaps his left elbow back into the face of the Order werewolf restraining him in a chokehold, promptly frees himself from his grip, and summarily sells his former captor a hard right hook to the left side of his jaw, knocking the Order werewolf to the grass on his left side. The Rider werewolf then leaps on top of the fallen Order werewolf.....and proceeds to bite his damn head off.
"Well done!" I compliment genuinely. "You're certainly pulling your weight!"
For the third time, I leap away.....and I arrive to the sight of another Rider werewolf getting the absolute shit beaten out of him by an Order werewolf.
Guess Remus really didn't raise his followers to be pacifists, like I convinced him to all those years ago.
"You can do this!" I cheer ecstatically, remaining positive even though the Rider werewolf is currently getting his ass handed to him. "Hit him low!"
The Rider werewolf, undeniably inspired by my presence, momentarily pulls both of his knees upward.....before suddenly lashing out with both of his feet in a blow directed perfectly towards his attacker's groin, causing that Order werewolf to howl in pain and allowing the Rider werewolf to leap to his feet once again. Now that the Rider werewolf has the upper hand, he seizes the Order werewolf by the throat and slams him against the rather thick trunk of a nearby tree multiple times, inflicting several instances of blunt force trauma on him than I care to even count.
Once the Order werewolf has perished from the repeated impacts, the Rider werewolf lets his body slump motionlessly to the grass before turning around and giving me a thumbs-up, which I return.
Being a leader and an inspiration is one thing.....but being a shrewd tactician is another. Being able to come up with plans and schemes on the fly, impart them to your minions, and remain positive for them no matter the circumstances.....
......it really is a gift.
A gift I just so happen to now possess.
If my minions need my aid.....then I'll be there to give it to them.
Because that's what a true pack does.
I whirl my head back around and analyze the rest of the battlefield, searching for more targets whom I can shred the life out of.
But then, out of nowhere, my line of sight is suddenly blocked out by nothing but a massive field of forest green, completely obscuring my vision—with me being even more affected by it due to my enhanced vision—and rendering me as nothing more than a practically blind and stumbling mess for the time being.
What the hell.....? What's going on?
What is this thing?
Ugh.....I hate it when things don't go my way! Whoever just did this to me is going to pay! I swear it!
-POV: Hailey a.k.a. The Viper-
Remember when I insisted on holding onto the dress I used for my vampiric allies' wedding? The one that Vazila Virsona granted to me back at the Vermillion Enclave?
And remember how said vampiric allies—well, one of them, anyway—repeatedly asked me what I planned on doing with said dress after I chose to keep it following their wedding?
Guess what? Now you know.
I've expertly flung the forest green dress—which I now see as more of a particularly large cloth than a proper clothing item—completely over the face and body of my current adversary, Nightclaw. I've thankfully bought myself some time; it'll take a bit for her to slice a way out of it.
With Nightclaw distracted and disoriented, I waste no further time. I get a slight running start, jump off the ground, throw my body onto hers, and swivel my body around such that my hands and arms are clasped together around her neck. In short, it kind of looks like I'm trying to use her for a piggyback ride.....while also trying to gradually choke her at the same time.
"Carla, please stop this!" I beg through gritted teeth as I summon every ounce of strength I have to hold on to Nightclaw's body as she desperately thrashes about. She must know that someone's currently on her; otherwise, she wouldn't be whipping her body to and fro like a freaking mechanical bull. "I've already lost too many friends. I can't afford to lose you, too!"
Memories of the late Dr. Duncan Drevis and The Crawler momentarily run through my mind, with the two of them having been unceremoniously killed by the Cosmic Armada during the faction's opening attack on Earth.
Losing them both had been a devastating blow to the Paragons, and if I had to lose yet another founding member of the team so soon after their deaths.....I wouldn't be able to live with myself.
As I struggle to maintain my hold on Nightclaw, I catch glimpses of the rest of my party doing their best to fend off the enemy werewolves.....though it does seem like they're having trouble discerning the good ones from the evil ones.
The police director Commissioner Marvin lets loose with a few bullets from his pistol while constantly ducking in and out of the hood of one of the armored vehicles, which he's using as cover. However, he eventually gets football-tackled onto the grass by a rampaging Rider werewolf; this Rider werewolf is then approached from his left side by a second one, and together, they both let out menacing growls before preparing to leap onto him.
However, Commissioner Marvin swiftly whips out two ranged stun guns from the interior of his trench coat—wielding one in each hand—and shoots the nodes from both of them directly into the chests of his would-be attackers, greatly shocking them and making them whimper in immense pain and discomfort as they land on the grass just short of him, twitching and convulsing themselves instead. Meanwhile, the Commissioner himself just rolls away, stands back up, and runs off.
"Two down!" he radios to his backup. "Don't know how long they'll be out for, though! Stay sharp!"
The vampire Lily Ladair slinks from cover to cover, taking refuge behind the numerous tents, braziers, and rune stones around the encampment as she carefully places killing shots into the more monstrous and demonic-looking werewolves using the silver bullets loaded into her silenced pistol.
"Dude!" she comments cheerfully. "It's like I'm playing a video game!"
She downs at least five more Rider werewolves with the silver shells before suddenly getting pounced on by a sixth, with even more menacingly slinking towards her with the express intent of dogpiling her.
However, just as they're about to rip Lily to ribbons, a very, very, very loud electric guitar chord reverberates across the Order encampment, greatly agitating the ears of almost all of the werewolves—regardless of faction—and visibly sending them flying backwards, rolling crudely like tumbleweeds the entire way. However, neither myself nor Nightclaw are affected by it, probably because Nightclaw is more stubborn and because I've practically been trained to expect these chords by now.
"Gotta be more careful there, little L!" Lily's newfound husband Theo Ladair playfully admonishes as he playfully twirls his sleek electric guitar around in quite the exaggerated flourish. "I'll be playing this thing all night if you keep getting yourself into trouble!"
Lily takes a moment to breathe a sigh of relief after she pulls herself to her feet and dusts off her clothing. "Thanks, Theo. I owe you one."
"We'll talk about that after the night ends."
Remus, Jet, Percy, and Boris II end up being surrounded on all sides by an ever encroaching circle of Rider werewolves, with Eviscerator, Goretooth, and Gray Maw unhesitatingly commanding the coordinated attack.
Well, well, well.....if it isn't the false alpha, Eviscerator says to Remus telepathically, since that's how the werewolves typically communicate with each other. Nightclaw will want to finish you off personally once she's done with that upstart serpent. Just turn yourself in to us and this will all be over real quick.....
I'm going to make you feel the pain I felt while under Esther's care, Goretooth laments. Except with me.....it's going to be SO much worse.
Aye, Gray Maw agrees. And let's just say.....when we're through with you and your pack, a lost eye will be the LEAST of your worries.
Remus and Jet end up back-to-back with each other, while Percy is mainly focused on keeping the young werewolf pup Boris II safe from harm. Immediately coming up with a plan, Remus opts to lock elbows with Jet and use his strength to completely lift the latter off the grass for a few precious seconds.....during which Jet rapidly kicks his feet out at an alarming rate and smashes the heads of many Rider werewolves within the surrounding formation, killing them.
Percy, after seeing that Boris II desires some action, picks the werewolf pup off the grass and chucks him directly into Eviscerator's face, allowing the young pup to annoyingly gnaw on the Death Rider lieutenant's facial features one by one.
AAAAAAHHHHH!!!! Eviscerator screams. Get it off me! GET IT OFF ME!
Both Goretooth and Gray Maw immediately give up their hostilities against Remus, Jet, and Percy, instead now redirecting their efforts to assisting their fellow Rider lieutenant free himself of the rather furry inconvenience. Remus, Jet, and Percy then dart off, intent on defending the Order encampment from the remaining hostiles.
To further add to the chaos, the crazed werewolf philosopher Pluto—the rather insane scribe who had been mostly content to hole herself up in her cave up until this point—darts out of her den, witnesses the carnage, and immediately feels threatened.
No one harms Pluto's..... she muses, before unprecedentedly burping. .....KNOWLEDGE! Books, scrolls, tomes.....must all be PRESERVED!
She then bolts out and runs around in a rather demented crab-walk formation—like she's possessed by a demon or something—and actually manages to get the drop on multiple Rider werewolves despite her rather unorthodox approach and methods.
Her rampage, however, is brought to a halt when the bumbling werewolf guards Left and Right dare to stand in her way.
Guards bring enemy to doorstep! Pluto accuses. Put research and records of Pluto in danger! Guards nothing but traitors.....GUARDS PAY!
Hahaha! Indeed.....we're with the Death Riders, Left openly admits. Nightclaw is the true alpha meant to assimilate and lead the Order of Blood.....Remus is nothing more than a farce. If you cannot see that.....then you truly do have no place in our new world.
No place! Right chirps in blind agreement. No place! No place! No place for you in Nightclaw's world!
Pluto growls before opening her assault by leaping to a spot directly between Left and Right, then using both of her hind legs to sell Left a firm kick to the stomach, making him stagger backwards and leaving her to only focus on Right for the time being.....or rather, she would have only focused on Right if he hadn't immediately sunk the claws on his right paw directly across her face with an impact strong enough to draw blood.
However, despite being injured, this apparently only makes Pluto angrier, as she slowly turns her head—with a now-bleeding left cheek—back to face Right, whose eyes have now widened in fear after he's let out a tense gulp.
I'm sorry, he says meekly and timidly, as though that's going to get Pluto to stop her assault. Really, I am. I'm just—
You threaten Pluto's trove of records! You not getting AWAY with this! Pluto roars before practically exploding from her crouched position, nailing Right in the stomach with sheer blunt force from her head, and sending him slamming against a thick tree trunk; he's not dead, though.
Then, Left rejoins the fray, trying to practically cut Pluto's face open and following up on the wound that Right inflicted.....only for Pluto to expertly block or parry every single one of his blows. Left then clasps both of his hands above his head and goes for a downwards smash to cave Pluto's head in and reduce it to paste.
However, Pluto actually raises herself to a bipedal position for the first time in quite a while, blocks the overhead smash with her right arm held horizontally......
......and uses the claws on her left arm to fatally impale Left in three important places on his chest. One for each lung, and a third for the heart.
She's basically turned him into a bowling ball, what with those holes he now has in his body.
NO! Right exclaims, still winded from his impact against the thick tree trunk.
Poor Left has just enough time to look down and realize what Pluto has done to him.....before he keels over dead, having made the grave mistake of bringing a war to Pluto's doorstep and endangering her records.
By now, Right looks absolutely devastated and resigned to his own fate after having just seen his partner and fellow guard, Left, die right in front of him.
He barely even reacts as Pluto bounds towards him on all fours, pounces on him, and brutally rips him to shreds, with the moonlight casting an ominous shadow of the violent carnage against a nearby rock slab.
The guard traitors are now both dead, thanks to Pluto's fierce overprotectiveness regarding her long life's work.
I just hope that their apparent "new alpha" doesn't end up having to follow them.