At that moment, a human arm suddenly appeared between the white wolf's throat and the werewolf’s gaping jaws. The white wolf caught sight of it from the corner of her eye and realized it belonged to Rudolf.

  Neither the white wolf nor the werewolf could understand—what use could such a fragile human arm possibly have?

  The werewolf bit down without hesitation, intending to snap both Rudolf’s arm and the white wolf’s throat in one savage bite. The white wolf could already feel the pressure tightening around her throat as the werewolf’s fangs pierced her skin. Meanwhile, Rudolf’s arm fared even worse—rows of sharp teeth sawed through his flesh, severing his arm into three pieces.

  Blood gushed from his wounds, and the pain was excruciating, but Rudolf’s eyes were filled with anticipation.

  Come on!

  Scorpio Witchcraft—Venom…

  Compared to his Corpse Fang and Alchemical Bullets, his venom had far fewer opportunities to shine. But now, with his arm serving as the vessel and his own blood as the medium, this was his only chance to poison the werewolf.

  Sweating from the agony, Rudolf gritted his teeth and raised his revolver with his remaining arm. There was no time to hesitate—he fired at point-blank range, shooting the werewolf in the head.

  His alchemical bullets were all spent. Now, he was using venom-coated bullets he had crafted himself.

  The bullet, its tip tinged with a sickly bluish-purple hue, lodged itself in the werewolf’s skull.

  The werewolf’s expression changed. His eyelids grew unbearably heavy.

  What was this?

  Why was his consciousness growing numb?

  Why did his throat feel paralyzed?

  His gaze once again locked onto the white wolf’s distinct fur, filled with greed. He couldn't afford to give up the chance to become a mutant werewolf.

  After all, the new Wolf King who had conquered the Distant Mountains was a mutant wolf. The werewolf packs attacking Fabró City were merely its outer forces.

  But his vision blurred—a clear sign of poisoning.

  Who could poison a werewolf with their resistance to toxins?

  Rudolf pulled the trigger again. The remaining five bullets all found their mark in the werewolf’s skull.

  Blood and bullet wounds covered its head, finally forcing the werewolf to release its bite.

  Ignoring the pain, Rudolf pulled out an aluminum flask containing his werewolf toxin antidote and poured it into the white wolf’s mouth.

  As the antidote took effect, the deep fang wounds on the white wolf’s throat began to heal rapidly.

  Despite her mangled front limbs, she ignored the pain and lunged at the poisoned werewolf.

  The werewolf, already fatally wounded and poisoned, couldn’t avoid the white wolf’s final bite. She sank her fangs into his throat.

  One werewolf down.

  Two left.

  A wave of exhaustion washed over Rudolf—his star energy was almost depleted.

  A mere apprentice wizard was simply too weak.

  Just before he completely blacked out, he saw the werewolf corpse under his control collapse.

  The combined effect of werewolf toxin and star energy depletion overwhelmed him, and soon, Rudolf lost consciousness.

  Rudolf had no idea how much time had passed when he finally awoke.

  The first thing he felt was relief—at least he was still alive. That meant he hadn’t been torn apart by werewolves.

  But why was it so cold?

  He opened his eyes and saw Yvonne’s face.

  “You’re awake!” Yvonne was still holding his hand, and even after seeing him regain consciousness, she didn’t let go.

  “I’m awake… Your arm?”

  Rudolf immediately reached for Yvonne’s arm.

  Her arm had been severed by a werewolf’s bite, but now, as his fingers ran over her skin, he found it perfectly intact.

  “The werewolf toxin antidote works on werewolves too. My wounds healed.”

  Rudolf let out a sigh of relief.

  He continued, “What about the werewolves?”

  “They’re dead.”

  “Dead?” Rudolf was in disbelief for a moment, then smiled. “That’s good. Did you collect their drool?”

  “No. I didn’t dare. I heard the alpha wolf howling and ran away, carrying you.”

  The first light of dawn crept over the horizon. Once daylight arrived, they would be much safer.

  “…Yvonne, why are you wearing my clothes?”

  Rudolf finally noticed—his uniform was draped over Yvonne. Meanwhile, he was left in only a thin shirt and undershorts.

  The cold morning wind bit through the fabric, making him shiver.

  Yvonne finally let go of his hand. “If I didn’t wear your clothes, I’d be naked.”

  “I saved your life—wait, no, I saved you twice already! Shouldn’t we at least share the coat?”

  Yvonne hesitated, her hand lingering at her collar. She wasn’t sure if she should open her coat to let him in.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Her body wasn’t cold—but the thought embarrassed her.

  Her face grew as red as the rising sun.

  Rudolf sighed and got up from the ground. “Forget it… But next time you transform, take your clothes off first. If you keep requesting new uniforms from the police station, someone’s bound to get suspicious.”

  He assessed his own condition.

  Thanks to the antidote Yvonne had given him, his severed arm no longer hurt—though it did itch.

  “Let’s go. We need to leave the forest as soon as possible. Let’s check the stables first, see if our horses are still there.”

  When Rudolf and Yvonne arrived at the druid stables, they found it completely abandoned.

  While searching the wooden huts surrounding the stable, Rudolf found the stablekeeper—a druid—dead.

  The druid had been the first to fall to the werewolves, and it was his death that had triggered Rudolf’s Corpse Fang ability, warning him of the attack.

  His corpse was a grisly sight.

  Two werewolves had torn him apart—one clamping down on his neck, the other pulling on his leg, leaving his body twisted and mangled.

  Rudolf worked to arrange the druid’s body properly.

  Though he didn’t have time for a burial, the druid at least deserved a dignified end—one that didn’t leave him twisted like a broken ragdoll.

  At that moment, he noticed a faint glow emanating from one of the square-shaped decorations on the druid’s robe.

  Gripping the small stone, Rudolf realized—it was an Apostle Relic.

  The moment he recognized it, the 1st-Level Druid Trinket dissolved into stardust within his mind, soaring toward the Scorpio Constellation.

  Scorpio: 3/14.

  A star within the Scorpio constellation—ι1—lit up. It was the third star on the tail of Scorpio.

  With three stars shining, the Scorpio constellation was much brighter now, finally forming a clear connection.

  From ι1, three floating celestial rewards descended:

  1st-Level Spirit Beast Crystal Recipe

  1st-Level Druid Longbow Recipe

  1st-Level Brown Bear Contract

  The Brown Bear Contract was useless—two brown bears could barely hold their own against a single werewolf.

  The longbow was equally worthless—nowhere near as effective as his revolver.

  But the Spirit Beast Crystal… That was a 1st-level magical artifact.

  To advance as a wizard, he had to craft a high-level magical artifact.

  Right now, Rudolf was merely an apprentice. Only by successfully creating a 1st-level magical artifact could he become a 1st-level wizard.

  Without hesitation, Rudolf selected the Spirit Beast Crystal Recipe.

  After a quick review of its details, he was very satisfied.

  This would be the first magical artifact he ever crafted.

  Wizards can create magical artifacts based on their own incantations, crafting tools suited to themselves. However, the best artifacts are those that have been tested and refined over generations of wizards. The Spirit Pet Crystal was one such well-established artifact.

  Rudolph examined the materials needed for a Level 1 Spirit Pet Crystal and immediately felt a headache coming on. He already had a Wizard’s Crystal, which he had obtained from the buried wizard in the graveyard—an exceptionally high-level one at that, ranking at Level 3. He also possessed a Level 1 Druidic Relic, which he had just taken from the deceased druid.

  The real issue was the third key material: Starstone. Rudolph had none left. His last piece had been used to ascend to a wizard apprentice.

  After tidying up the druid’s remains, Rudolph stepped out of the cabin and said, “Let’s go. We need to leave quickly.”

  The werewolf attack on the ranch had been hasty, prioritizing speed over thoroughness, meaning the druid’s horse herd had not been entirely slaughtered. Yvonne had already found two horses. The two mounted up and galloped toward Leman Town.

  Along the way, Rudolph saw countless animal carcasses stripped clean to the bone. For years, there had never been an incident of a druidic settlement being wiped out around Leman Town. But now, a large pack of werewolves had migrated to the outskirts of Fabro City, forcing them to prey on druids just to feed themselves.

  An hour into their journey, Rudolph suddenly spoke up, “Something’s wrong… This doesn’t feel right… Why haven’t we seen a single person in an hour?”

  The eerie emptiness of the road unsettled him. It was as if they were walking down the wrong path toward some grim fate.

  The good news was that after another thirty minutes, they finally encountered people.

  The bad news was—they were all dead.

  Rudolph dismounted and examined the scene: a small caravan, only three wagons strong. The goods remained untouched—werewolves had no interest in human cargo. Instead, they had feasted on the five merchants.

  Just as the druids had said, werewolves ate humans the way humans ate meat. People couldn’t survive on just vegetables, and werewolves couldn’t survive on wild game alone.

  Rudolph found the victims’ identification papers. This would officially be recorded as a werewolf attack. He couldn’t transport the caravan’s goods, but he collected their silver coins—these would be returned to their families if they came looking.

  Among the belongings, Rudolph also found a few ledgers. He quickly documented the incident; these records would be archived at the police station.

  With those matters settled, Rudolph and Yvonne continued their journey.

  “Captain, there are werewolves ahead!”

  Rudolph glanced at the half-risen sun on the horizon and said, “Let’s go. The werewolves will retreat in daylight.”

  They urged their horses forward, galloping swiftly down the road. As they neared a bend, Rudolph heard the distant howls of wolves. He raised his gun—his ammunition now consisted only of regular bullets. To keep his wizard identity hidden, he had refrained from crafting more venom bullets.

  As their horses appeared on the road, the sight of a police officer’s uniform had an immediate effect. Rudolph fired two shots into the air, signaling their arrival. Seeing that patrol officers had come—though only two of them—the werewolves hesitated. With the sun already rising, its light sapping their energy, the creatures turned and fled the main road.

  There was nothing Rudolph could do to stop them.

  As they got closer, Rudolph realized this wasn’t a caravan—it was a traveling circus.

  Lying dead in front of the circus was the ringmaster, Seco.

  Inside, he found more corpses—the beast tamer, the bear that could do arithmetic tricks, the lion that jumped through fire hoops, the acrobats… all slaughtered.

  Then, Rudolph remembered the clown, Cooper.

  Behind one of the wagons, he found Cooper. His throat had been torn halfway open.

  Kneeling beside him, Rudolph noticed the clown’s lips trembling as if trying to speak. He leaned in closer.

  “Take me… to the ringmaster… Take me to the ringmaster…”

  Rudolph hesitated. He feared that if he moved Cooper, his half-severed throat would fully detach. Instead, he quickly retrieved Seco’s corpse and placed it beside the clown.

  Two streams of tears rolled down Cooper’s face, smudging his clown makeup.

  Then, something happened.

  Seco, who had been undeniably dead, suddenly came back to life.

  Rudolph’s Fangs of the Revenant vibrated with unease, making his teeth ache.

  With great effort, Seco raised a dagger and sawed through his own neck as if cutting through a wooden block.

  Rudolph winced—his teeth hurt even more now.

  Seco took his severed head and swapped it with Cooper’s.

  An undead… Cooper had become an undead.

  Each time an undead survived a fatal encounter, it would grow stronger.

  With his new throat stitched in place, Cooper was now a Level 1 Revenant. He could no longer die.

  Seco, now bearing Cooper’s old throat, had two rows of stitches circling his neck. However, there was still a gaping wound where the werewolf had bitten him.

  “Thank you, annoying officer.”

  “You’re welcome, Cooper.”

  Cooper’s voice sounded strange. He was younger than Rudolph by two or three years, so his newly attached throat—rough and thick—felt foreign and uncomfortable.

  Rudolph said, “Come back to town with us and hide for a few days. The wilds are too dangerous. I’ll figure something out to keep you safe.”

  Cooper shook his head. He touched the stitches on his neck and seemed rather satisfied.

  “I’m already a Level 1 Revenant. I’ll stay out here and kill those werewolves. Annoying officer, could you step aside for a moment… I have something to do…”

  Rudolph shook his head and, along with Yvonne, left the wagons behind.

  From Cooper’s position, eerie ghostly flames began to spread, flickering atop every corpse.

  The flames were cold, consuming nothing—not even clothes or fur.

  As the ritual concluded, the circus came back to life.

  Seco now wore Cooper’s throat, though it was noticeably thin and fragile, with a gash from the werewolf’s bite. The lions and tigers no longer needed cages; they obediently followed their beast tamer, even though the man’s guts had been entirely removed. The acrobats tossed bottles in the air, grinning with delight.

  Yvonne shrank back behind Rudolph. “What kind of circus is this…?”

  Rudolph observed the chilling yet bizarrely festive scene and muttered,

  “Cooper’s Death Circus…”

  The clown’s face paint had returned to its pristine form, but his expression had turned stiff.

  Just as Rudolph had noticed with his Fangs of the Revenant, undeath left the body cold and rigid. True revenants could only make a handful of expressions.

  A smile.

  That was the last expression Cooper would ever wear.

  With his grin frozen in place, he led his Death Circus off the main road, performing all kinds of grotesque acts as they wandered into the wilderness.