The siege hamr was a dragon head adorned with dual horns, and every strike on the solid city gate left clear marks on the two wooden doors, so much so that the iron gate trapped in the middle was visible to Venezia.
It wouldn't be long before it was breached!
Arrows overhead, falling stones pounded the roof, crackling like rain on plantains.
A hint of anticipation flashed in Venezia's eyes.
He was eagerly looking forward to the gates opening and battling with the entity that exuded a dangerous aura, aiming to do so before Hans. He disliked teaming up against enemies, even if it was a command from higher-ups, he wouldn't comply.
Accompanied by a loud crash.
The city gate was smashed open.
Yet, what appeared before them was another gate standing at the end of the cramped space under the tower.
"The siege vehicle can't push through, it's too narrow here."
"We have to dismantle it, brothers, lift this siege hamr!"
The knights shouted.
In this era, most castles and cities had two gates, and double fortifications were not uncommon, so they were not disappointed.
With a bang, Venezia swung his axe, cutting the rope suspending the siege vehicle's round hamr, intending to lift it alongside the knights, but his gaze unconsciously looked upwards—he could sense that dangerous presence approaching him rapidly.
"Commander Hiberland, this is on you!"
The middle-aged knight being called responded imdiately: "Leave it to , but Venezia, where are you going?"
He was once the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order, and after passing the position to Losa, he served as the knight order's commander.
A slightly grim smile appeared on Venezia's face, like a glutton long deprived of food, now faced with a feast. To Hiberland, that smile seed particularly grotesque.
"Of course, to slay the enemy!"
He looked up and leaped, clad in heavy armor, yet he forcefully smashed through the wooden boards above, appearing inside the tower.
These boards were evidently movable, with city defenders atop, wielding torches and oil jars, intending to drop them into the gate hole—imagine how many would perish if a fire ignited in such a cramped spot.
These defenders had also mutated, their first sight of Venezia not invoking fear but a bloodthirsty frenzy: "Kill this guy!"
"I want the first piece of his flesh!"
With that, they sward toward Venezia.
Facing this encirclent, Venezia undid a few clasps of his heavy chain armor shirt, making no other motion, and the heavy iron armor naturally fell away.
The soldiers burst into laughter.
"This guy's gone mad."
"Is he undressing so we don't hurt our teeth when we chew on him?"
Venezia ignored them; in fact, he couldn't understand Coptic. He only saw his body rapidly expanding, transforming within monts in the narrow tower into a massive werewolf, hunching so as not to bump the ceiling, its mouth full of fierce white teeth.
Opposite, those soldiers bearing werewolf characteristics, with short black fur, were montarily stunned.
Fear.
Bewildernt.
Stupefaction.
Even a bit of sha, as if a fake product encountered the genuine article, proudly flaunting a luxury purse, only to shrink in comparison when the real item was revealed by the other side.
When Venezia fought his way to the third level of the tower, he had turned into a blood-red giant wolf, with remnants of slain enemy organs and flesh still hanging on him.
At that mont.
A formidable silhouette slamd into Venezia, sending him sprawling.
Amidst the swirling dust.
Venezia's amber eyes narrowed slightly, seeing another werewolf with damp, filthy, disgusting black coarse fur all over, extending claws nearly half a ter long.
Compared to the Wolf Race, this being's aura was undeniably more sinister and uncanny by tenfold.
Even Venezia had to admit, compared to this creature, most of the Wolf Race actually appeared quite charming, not nearly qualifying as "dark monsters."
"You're a werewolf too?"
A hint of confusion crossed Jabri's face: "I don't feel the aura of a curse on you; how did you beco a werewolf?"
Venezia grinned, showing a mouthful of fierce white teeth: "If you want to know, fight first. If you're not torn apart by , I'll tell you everything you want to know."
A trace of human-like taunt appeared on Jabri's face: "Foolish!"
Though tornted by the curse, Jabri was also keenly aware of the trendous power it granted him. To him, Venezia's presence felt strong but far inferior to his own.
...
Garrio was an unremarkable militia—more accurately, he was rely a dockworker pushed to respond to conscription by a community leader, having never handled a long spear or shield before, nor received any military training.
This background made him wary of everything, so he didn't drink the "magic potion" distributed by the city defense army soldiers who usually only knew how to strut, drink excessively, and visit brothels.
It was a magic potion!
Such a precious item would never be distributed to re "cannon fodder" like them!
Thus, he witnessed firsthand the series of terrifying, unbelievable events atop the walls.
Everyone was renewed with courage, their fierce eyes full of bloodlust, with mouths that loudly roared, showing yellow fangs.
Even the usually weakest comrades turned fierce, howling to the moon with oil-green eyes, resembling evil wolves.
They were mad!
Utterly insane!
Garrio clutched the so-called "magic potion" tightly, his fear making him wish to toss this damned potion a thousand miles away, for he couldn't be sure if his potion-consuming comrades could still be considered human.
The black coarse fur grew rapidly, their bodies pierced by arrows yet healing swiftly.
So found their jawbones elongated, turning as terrifying as those of a wolf, while others had one arm beco deford, covered in black fur, a few sizes bigger, with nails as sharp as blades...
If these mutated parts were pieced together, they would resemble legendary werewolves!
Fortunately.
His comrades seed not to notice his abstention from the potion.
Thus, he could hide amidst the ruins of this toppled tower, shivering and waiting for an opportunity.
Clearly, he intended to desert.
"Damn the Franks, damn honor, damn holy fire, only those who are well-fed, without worry for food and drink, have the right to speak of honor. I just want to survive."
After much hesitation, he pocketed the magic potion anyway; in any case, consuming such an eerie potion might make him stronger—used properly, it might just save his life.
He bent low, trying to dig a passage through the ruins.
But just as he was about to unearth the buried path, he keenly heard the cries of battle emanating from below the ruins, inside the city walls.
"Have the enemies breached?"
Garrio's body trembled.
He wanted to flee, but he had no idea where he could run to.
Earlier, he saw 'smart fellows' who, like him, hadn't drunk the magic potion, having their necks twisted by forr comrades, with half of their flesh torn and devoured.
And those Crusaders, rumored to be as demonic killers, naturally would not spare an insignificant heretic like him.
He wanted to flee, but he had no idea where he could run to.
Earlier, he saw 'smart fellows' who, like him, hadn't drunk the magic potion, having their necks twisted by forr comrades, with half of their flesh torn and devoured.
And those Crusaders, rumored to be as demonic killers, naturally would not spare an insignificant heretic like him.
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