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Rise of The Nightwalker Clan

They call him by many names. Realm Destroyer. Leader of The Night Walkers. The Dark Alpha. The Dark One. These are all just titles given through fear and respect. At the beginning, his name was simple. Ambrose. **************************************************** Watch as an out of place teenager grows into a being beyond imagination. Watch the rise of the founder and leader of the greatest and most feared Supernatural Clan to ever exist. The rise of the first Night Walker!

BleedingHeaven · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
37 Chs

True Power of an Alpha

20 Minutes Earlier

Ambrose was engaged in a battle of attrition against the Ghoul Horde. Whoever was tired out first would win. After the first 100 or so, Ambrose had sent Brett away. He did not send Brett away because he thought he couldn't handle it. On the contrary, Ambrose was confident in killing hundreds more on his own. He just didn't want Brett to have to do so much killing right after he got turned. Ambrose feared that his mental state couldn't handle it.

Another 100 Ghouls came pouring in. They quickly locked onto him and started sprinting or pouncing on him. Quickly, they piled onto him, making it so that not a single part of his body could be seen.

ROOOOOAAAAR!

Ambrose roared as he uses his Wolf Aura that had covered his body to creates sharp spikes that extended outwards in all directions.

PUCHI!

Ghouls were stabbed in the head, body, and legs as they were now stuck in the air, being held up by the spikes that were stuck in their bodies.

Ambrose looked up at them coldly and slowly turned his hand into a fist.

The spikes entered their bodies before they compressed into a ball that then released many spikes itself, completely destroying the insides of the Ghouls that were stuck in the air.

PIDAPA!

PIDAPA!

The blood from the many wounds on the Ghoul's bodies slowly dropped down until it looked like it was raining blood.

'That move is taxing.' Ambrose thought to himself as his breathing became slightly labored.

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

The sound of bodies hitting the ground resounded as Ambrose finally released his Wolf Aura. Just letting his Wolf Aura leave his body was taxing enough, let alone changing it's shape multiple times.

Ambrose caught his breath within 10 seconds, the stamina recovery of a Werewolf is not something to scoff at.

A final wave soon came at him, but this time it was 300 or so Ghouls, all looking to turn him into dinner.

"Come at me you fuckers!" Ambrose roared, his blood was bubbling seeing the challenge ahead of him.

GROAAAAAAA!

One Ghoul at the front screeched, signaling the rest to attack. They charged forward, and so did Ambrose.

Ambrose grabbed the one who attacked him first by the neck, then lifted it up and grabbed it's legs.

Ambrose started swinging the unlucky Ghoul like a weapon.

BANG!

BANG!

Ambrose viciously smashed his 'weapon' into tens of Ghouls, severely injuring them or killing them instantly.

Ambrose felt a hand grab his shoulder and instantly used his full strength to pull the Ghoul over his shoulder, slamming it on the floor.

BANG!

Ambrose wasted no time and crushed it's head with his foot.

SQUISH!

A Ghoul suddenly took a superhuman leap onto him, only for Ambrose to dig his claws into it's stomach and then ripping it in two. Blood and guts spilled out as the Ghoul squirmed on the floor before momentarily dying.

Ambrose focused his Wolf Aura onto his fists, normally Ambrose would fight with it focused on his claws, but Ambrose had a sudden idea based on the attack he used earlier.

The Wolf Aura slowly formed the shape of spheres around his fists but Ambrose wasn't done just yet. The spheres suddenly had many protrusions sticking out of them, forming miniature spikes. Ambrose nodded his head in satisfaction, this technique leans towards high damage and pain, being hit head on by a fist would make the opponent bleed in many spots, and without a sufficient healing factor, it could be catastrophic. Ambrose decided to name the technique.

'Wolf Aura Technique: Flesh Ripper'

"Ha… for some reason I feel like I inherited my ridiculous naming sense from Astar…"

***************************************************

Somewhere Else on Earth

ACHOO!

"Who the hell is talking about me? Is it one of my dear sons? No, maybe it's that ridiculous descendant of mine!" Astar voiced out loud, but when he thought about Ambrose, a gentle smile appeared on his face.

Astar shook his head, getting rid of his thoughts as he continued the way he was going.

If anybody was there, they would be horrified of what they saw. Bodies of Werewolves were scattered everywhere, some intact for the most part, but most turned into little chunks of meat and fur.

***************************************************

Ambrose's Location

Ambrose was unleashing hell onto the Ghouls. Using his newly created Flesh Ripper technique, he inflicted great amounts of pain onto them.

Wails of agony echoed throughout the forest as Ambrose's mind slowly became numb to killing, allowing him to greater understand the art of fighting.

Soon, the screaming stopped as Ambrose ripped the head off of the last Ghoul. Ambrose's cold, almost soulless eyes scanned what could only be described as the grounds of a massacre, looking for signs of life.

Ambrose's eyes suddenly stopped on a certain part of the forest and said in a low voice; "You can come out now, you're not very good at hiding to begin with."

"As expected of a disgusting dog, your senses are astounding." A disdainful voice was heard from behind a tree. A Vampire walked out from behind a tree with a smile on his face.

Ambrose's face was expressionless as the Vampire walked out, seemingly treating him like an ordinary opponent. The Vampire was tall, about 6'4 with silver hair and a handsome face.

"My name is Edward Orilius of Clan Orilius. You made a mistake turning the Peterson boy, he was ours." The Vampire stated, as if Brett was already his possession.

"Yours? You won't even be able to keep your life soon, let alone another person's." Ambrose didn't back down one bit.

The Vampire snarled; "Enough talk! Tell me your name before I cut out your heart and drink your blood, doggy."

Ambrose pause for a moment and then said; "My name is… Ambrose De Wraith. The Werewolf that will kill you!" Ambrose then launched himself at the Vampire.

'De Wraith?!' The Vampire's eyes quivered in shock as he heard those words coming out of Ambrose's mouth, but he didn't have much time to think as Ambrose was already in front of him.

Edward quickly made a cut on his palm with his knife as he then used Blood Arts to create a thick shield.

CRACK!

Ambrose's fist couldn't penetrate the blood shield but severely damaged it. The shield continued to crack until it fell apart.

BANG!

The second the shield broke, Ambrose quickly moved to Edward's side as his claws slashed into Edward's skin.

Ambrose's claws didn't even make it to the bone when he felt a piercing pain in his stomach. He quickly created distance as he looked down, only to see the knife that Edward had cut himself with lodged into him.

The knife felt like it was burning as Ambrose quickly realized what the metal was.

'Silver!'

Ambrose glared menacingly at Edward who had a mocking look on his face.

"What's wrong, doggy?"