Chapter 470: Ravings

Chapter 470: Ravings



The werewolves growled menacingly when they noticed an intruder had stepped inside the manor. They gazed at Adam with bloodthirsty eyes and without waiting a moment, they pounced at him.

BOOM!

The partially collapsed entrance was now completely destroyed as dust and debris flew in all directions.

Five werewolves stepped out of the manor. Some had masculine frames, while others appeared to be feminine. They looked around the manor with crazed eyes, looking for the intruder.

The werewolf from earlier, who was leading the horde of wolves to look for traces of Adam, heard this sudden commotion and was astonished. He hurriedly ran back in the direction of the Howlett Estate, his eyes flashing with panic.

Upon reaching, he saw that the other werewolves had stepped out of the house and were seemingly in search of someone.

Moreover, the wolves had also returned from the perimeter of the clearing and were now closely guarding the ruined estate.

Meanwhile, Adam had already escaped to the edge of the clearing and was now standing on the topmost branch of a tree, coldly gazing at the werewolves.

Who would have thought? The youth scoffed at this sudden turn of events. There is actually a whole pack of these bastards...

Each werewolf had a unique appearance, some with patches of white or brown fur, others bearing scars that spoke of gruesome battles. Their movements were synchronized, forming a loose circle around the tallest werewolf.

Adam looked at this werewolf with narrowed eyes and thought, The alpha? Hmm, he's very close to advancing to Rank 2. How troublesome!

He was very confident in dealing with a regular group of Rank 1 Magi with great ease. However, the group of opponents that he faced now was vastly different.

From what he had read about lycanthropes, he knew that these creatures not only had enhanced senses but also had very impressive regenerative abilities, making them extremely hard to kill.

If I can subdue one of those werewolves and experiment on them...

But he quickly shook his head when he thought of the possible repercussions of this action. If the werewolves got enraged and decided to attack the town, then it would become very troublesome.

In the end, he could only sigh helplessly and make his way into the depths of the Weeping Woods before making a detour and arriving at Stratford.

In an ancient underground cavernous chamber, the ceilings soared high above, dotted with stalactites that dripped with water, creating a rhythmic yet haunting melody.

The walls were carved with intricate depictions of wolves, their eyes seemed to be alive and flashing with malevolence.

At the center of the chamber, stood an enormous stone altar. It contained an equally large basin that was almost filled to the brim with blood. Moreover, drops of sanguine liquid continued to fall from the ceiling and slowly accumulated inside this basin.

A towering werewolf stood before the altar, gazing at the blood-filled basin. His eyes flashed with madness and impatience. From time to time, sanity returned to his bloodthirsty eyes, however, it was immediately replaced by mania.

The creature raised his head and glanced at the towering stone doors on the other side of the chamber.

Spectral figures were carved on the ancient stone doors, whispering in hushed tormented voices. Their voices were unintelligible but were filled with temptation and allure.

The werewolf's face contorted in sheer agony as the ravings assaulted his mind and

overwhelmed him.

"Lift... the curse...

"Stratford... ritual...

"Blood moons..."