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**Two days ago**
A man stood at the peak of a hill overlooking a city. His long, spiky black hair whipped behind him. He didn't look a day over thirty and carried the aura of someone who felt superior to everyone else. He wore loose pants, but his chest was bare—his upper body sported muscles that looked lethal even from a distance. And his eyes; a golden color, gleamed under the night sky—not from excitement or anger, but from something even more primal. Almost as terrifying as the man were the five hundred soldiers behind him, waiting to strike.
"Arthur!" the man called out. A figure appeared beside him; this man looked even younger, with short dark blue hair and light blue eyes.
"Why is Ajax not leading my armies?" the first man asked.
Arthur bowed. "I'm sorry, my Lord. I sent Ajax after your grandson."
The man looked up at the sky, where the clouds were slowly dispersing, giving the moon space to shine. "Oh..." he said softly. "It's almost time."
He raised his hand, and all five hundred of his troops turned. Their limbs swelled to massive proportions, fur sprouted over their bodies, and their teeth elongated. In a flash, humans transformed into monsters.
The clouds finally parted completely, revealing the full moon shining down on the town. The man cut his hand through the air, and the werewolves rushed forward. Moments later, cries of agony filled the night as Agaius Vulpin closed his eyes, smiling in pure bliss at the destruction he was about to unleash on the world.
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Meanwhile, far away, in another city, perhaps even another world—where the sun didn't shine—a castle of black stone stood in the center. Its towers jutted menacingly into the sky, and its walls were lined with spikes and other defenses. Inside the castle, in the largest room, fourteen men argued heatedly.
"The Wolf King has taken another city! Are we just going to stand by and watch humans be slaughtered?" one asked.
"Since when do you care about humans, Orvil?" another retorted.
"They are our primary source of food. I don't care about the humans, but I just don't want to starve!" Orvil replied.
"The Wolf King is getting stronger. When he kills the humans, who do you think he's coming for next?" another shouted.
The men continued to argue as one reclined on a polished dark throne, spectating. Until one of them raised a hand, and the bickering ceased. Someone stepped forward.
The man had a lean frame, dark hair, and red eyes—just like the others in the room. His face was youthful, but his eyes betrayed an intelligence that even his peers found intimidating.
"You finally deign to speak, Oliver," the man on the throne said. "What do you have to say?"
Oliver smiled. "We should use the situation in the human realm to our advantage. If we capture the rogue wolf, we will have a weapon to turn against the Wolf King. And combined with your strength, I suspect it will be easy enough to eliminate him."
Orvin stood up. "He can't be talking about the white one! He's probably even more dangerous than the Wolf King!"
Oliver never stopped smiling. "Your thinking is narrow and your mind simple. You said it yourself: he is our biggest threat. Probably even more dangerous than the Wolf King. What better weapon to have?"
Orvin sat back down. "How will we get this weapon? We work in the shadows—we always have. We can't afford to compromise ourselves," the man on the throne said.
Oliver looked at him. "Of course, sending a large party would be too dangerous. But a single individual should do the trick. It has to be someone powerful, yet discreet. It can't be a lord—and it certainly can't be you, my King."
"Then who do you have in mind?"
"Oh, no one, my Lord," Oliver replied with a small, ever-present smile.
The king frowned. "You wouldn't have brought up this plan if you hadn't thought everything through. So stop playing games, Oliver."
Oliver shrugged. "I just can't help keeping you in suspense, Your Majesty."
"Out with it!" the king demanded.
"Your fourteenth son would be best suited for such a task."
The room fell silent. Suggesting the king's own son for this mission was a bold move, but Oliver didn't seem fazed by the silence.
"He has the necessary skills, being of royal blood, and he is the last of your offspring. His disappearance wouldn't be noticed anytime soon."
The king tilted his head in thought before speaking. "Tell me exactly how this will play out."
Oliver bowed. "As you wish, Your Majesty." His smile grew even wider.
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