My Werewolf System

Chapter 1412: The Price of Silence

In one of the cities where the Dark Guild operated from the shadows, things had taken a sudden and dangerous turn. Their base, meant to be secure, discreet, and untouchable, had been compromised.

After hearing whispers about Lupus and what was about to unfold, Marcus decided it was time for a face-to-face. He needed to understand why Lupus had changed his plans. Was it a plea for support? A strategic repositioning? Or was Lupus simply acting without thinking things through?

Marcus never got the chance to find out.

Just as he was about to alert the others and mobilize his trusted circle, he stumbled into a hallway soaked in blood.

Lying at his feet was one of the culprits.

The creature had already lashed out at the others, and Marcus had been forced to respond. Now, its lifeless body lay sprawled across the blood-slicked floor.

“What was that thing?” one of the Dark Guild members behind him asked, eyes wide. “It was fast… faster than any Altered I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s not an Altered,” Marcus replied grimly, kneeling beside the corpse. He peeled back the bloodied lips of the attacker, revealing long, sharp fangs. “It’s what we feared most.”

The realization settled in like a stone in the gut.

Altered or not, what troubled Marcus the most was the sheer destruction that had occurred. Several members of the Dark Guild were already dead. And it had happened right under his nose.

“For something like this to happen on such a scale…” Marcus muttered. “They must have known we were here. Hell, they probably already have people on the inside. That’s how they operate, always subtle, always precise.”

He exhaled slowly, the weight of inevitability pressing on his shoulders.

“I knew this day would come,” he added. “I just assumed they’d deal with the White Rose first… or some other easier target.”

The truth was, despite their name and their reputation, the Dark Guild’s strength paled in comparison to larger factions. That was why they leaned so heavily on alliances and connections, interwoven relationships with other groups to survive and thrive.

Occasionally, they showcased their power against unruly guests to maintain their image. But most of their members weren’t skilled Qi users. Instead, they relied on weapons, tech, and strategy. And now, that illusion of power was unraveling, one corpse at a time.

“First, let’s clear the rest of the floor before contacting the others,” Marcus ordered. “Rounder, I hate to send you alone, but head back to the main theater areas. Let them know what’s happening. Warn them.”

Rounder gave a sharp nod and turned quickly, disappearing back through the large double doors they had entered from. The remaining two stayed close, moving carefully down the bloodied corridor.

Then they heard it, voices. Muffled talking, coming from behind one of the nearby dressing room doors.

One of the Dark Guild members stepped forward, ready to burst in and take control of the situation, but Marcus grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back just in time.

A clawed, blood-soaked arm burst through the wooden door, its long, jagged nails slicing through the air where the man’s chest had been just seconds ago.

With no hesitation, Marcus drew the blade at his hip. In a clean, downward slash, he severed the arm from the elbow. It fell to the floor with a wet thud.

Without skipping a beat, Marcus spun and slammed his foot into the door, exploding it off its hinges. The force of the kick sent the door flying across the room, crashing into whoever had been standing behind it.

Inside, the scene was chaos.

Three figures with glowing red eyes and razor-sharp fangs stood in the room, vampires. Around them, several Dark Guild members lay lifeless or barely breathing.

“Take down one! I’ll handle the other two!” Marcus barked.

One of the vampires slashed with their arm, releasing a crimson wave of blood aura through the air. Marcus narrowly dodged it, only to see the creature vanish from its spot, moving side to side in a blur, too fast for the average eye to follow.

But Marcus wasn’t average.

He raised his sword, and crackling energy began to surge around it, lightning coiling up the blade like a living serpent. Condensing the energy into his palm, he hurled the blade like a spear.

In a flash of thunder, the weapon transformed into a lightning bolt mid-air, piercing one of the vampires straight through the heart. The creature spasmed, then collapsed in silence.

“There was no intel… no mention of him being an Altered!” one of the remaining vampires shouted.

But before they could react further, the air shifted. The back of one vampire’s head was grabbed and slammed into the ground. A flash of lightning erupted on impact, branching like a tree from the vampire’s skull.

“I’m not an Altered,” Marcus growled. “This… is the power of a human being.”

To his right, his ally had finished his fight, but not without cost. Blood dripped from a deep gash across his arm.

“They’re fast,” the man panted. “And those powers… it felt like I was being led, like it was all intentional.”

“It’s okay,” Marcus replied. “Just get in contact with the others. I’ll clear the rest of the floor.”

They moved quickly from room to room, finding no more hostiles, only the fallen.

Eventually, Marcus regrouped with his injured comrade, just as another realization hit.

“I’m not getting through to anyone,” the man said, his voice grim. “No communication from the other areas. We have to assume they’ve been hit too.”

Marcus nodded solemnly. It made sense. If there were insiders here, then there were likely infiltrators in every location.

Even if the Dark Guild lacked raw power, they still held dangerous influence. For the vampires to move this aggressively, it meant they were trying to eliminate threats with minimal effort and maximum precision.

“You stay here,” Marcus said. “I need to check on Rounder. I need to know if he’s still alive.”

He retraced his steps, returning through the double doors into the main reception hall.

The moment he stepped through, his foot knocked into something round.

He looked down. It was Rounder’s head.

A soft voice echoed from across the room.

“I thought it was a waste of time sending me here… but it seems there was a good reason after all.”

Standing at the far end of the room was an old man dressed entirely in black. But it wasn’t his cloak or presence that drew Marcus’s attention.

It was the cane held tightly in both of his hands.

And the unsettling aura that surrounded him.

*****

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