59 The pack

Tral and Darick found themselves on a ship partially docked in a wearhouse surrounded by a pack of werewolves hungry for their flesh.

They stood back to back as these beasts finished their rapid transformation into monsters that ranged from eight to ten feet tall of muscle and fur.

The ship could only really fit about four of them at a time but one was enough to rip most people apart even if they were cultivators.

Tral nodded at his friend "I got a present for you just keep it the hell away from me ok." Who laughed with a fearless response as he raise his hands in the air "If it's what I think it is then let them come and load me up buddy"

A pair of werewolves jumped onto the ship from either side as another crawled across the ceiling above them.

Suddenly a silver great ax appeared in the air above Darick who immediately grabbed it's handle to place it deep into the head of the supprised beast in front of him.

The pack was furious at this with many howling or leaping at the ship in response even though many couldn't all fit on the top so they started to rip the sides to pieces in their fury.

Tral wasn't doing so good in this fight as he couldn't wield silver weapons and even though his enhanced cultivator blades did damage causing deep wounds, they were not able to get all the way through as the werewolves healed at an incredible rate leaving him on the defensive barely able to keep the two near him from tearing him limb from limb.

He was forced to use crescent energy blades from both weapons rapidly draining the energy from his body and only by using two together was he finally able to decapitate one of his opponents in one move.

Darick on the other hand was doing great considering he completely ignored his own defense to decapitate or remove the limbs of all those that came at him even finding the time while one was trying to bite his shoulder to help Tral out.

His new strength really showed it's prowess at this time as he was able to match and even slightly over power these ridiculously mighty creatures while they couldn't injure him at all.

From punches to swings of the ax the monsters quickly found out that Darick was no easy prey. One beast even too his fist into its throat to bite his forearm only to hold him in place before his ax removed its head which remained attached to his arm as the wolf's jaws refused to release.

Darick swung, kicked and even headbutted the werewolves in a mad attempt to clear the ship as much as possible. Wielding the great ax with one hand he grabbed a beast by the snout with his other and swung it around to make room forcing many to back off or get hit by ax or ally.

Sadly the ship couldn't withstand this violence and was quickly sinking into the shallow waters of this warehouse dock. With nowhere to go and mobility being lost to the water Tral was considering a jetpack escape yet the only exit had closed behind them with these beasts along the walls and ceiling to block of their escape.

He was about to dive into the water to riddle the place with explosive gas in an attempt at survival when a distinct ring could be heard that immediately got the attention of the pack.

At the door to the wearhouse stood a strange man smoking a pipe covered in faintly humming bracelets wielding a glorious masamune blade. On his forehead just under his extreme afro was a headband with ends that dangled long past where they were tied off.

With a chime of his bracelets as he moved his arms creating after images his blade seemed to flow through the air. Werewolves all round him from far away fell to pieces without even the appearance of being hit.

With a howl from the leader the rest of the pack went into full retreat unwilling to face the sacred slaughter that surrounded this man.

Silence fell throughout the wearhouse once they left. The man staring Tral down with the most serious look he had ever seen before he methodically started walking towards them.

Darick grabbed Tral to jump onto the peer making sure to hold him behind his back incase the swordsman decided to make a move.

Once the stranger got within twelve feet of the duo he stopped letting the silence persist for a while until he finally spoke "Great warrior why do you protect a foul fiend of the night? Even if he was once your friend, now it is not but a vile being that spreads evil through the world."

Darick responds with pride "He has been my brother since we were babies, I respect your opinion mighty swordsman but even though he has become this way it was for the most noble cause of saving our other fellow orphans from the clutches of the evil church! No-one will harm him without going through me and I cannot be gone through!"

With this said he calmly peels the werewolf head from his arm to toss it aside like trash before readying his ax for battle.

Tral suddenly spoke up "You know if you didn't come I would have blown this place sky high to kill basically all of those assholes and I still can cause my brother in arms here will survive just fine or if you are willing to hear me out… I can make a pile of the dankest weed you've ever seen and we can share our stories over joints and a delicious meal on your new ship"

After he says this he claps his hands and a new yacht appears next to the dock just behind the sunken remains of the fishing vessel.

The swordsman raises an eyebrow at this while thinking it over "Well.. I was taught better then to fuck with a bullshit genie so if you can prove that isn't some weird vampire illusion then I think I can smoke your dope and eat your magic food."

Darick shrugs at this and jumps onto the yacht followed by Tral making a table covered in a spread of food which Darick starts to eat right away while chasing it with a fresh beer.

Tral simply says "I didn't know I could do bullshit vampire illusions. I'm still new to this and my sire is a tree but if my illusions are this good then what are you going to do about it anyway?"