Is it wrong to try to meet someone in a dungeon?

Loki and Grace, who had met beneath the white walls and towering tower, heard the earth-shattering shout and turned their gaze toward the other side of the rain-swept landscape. "Lady Riveria, this is…!"

"Yes, it's Bert... Is it about to begin...?"

In the clinic of the [Deankaite Familia], Riveria, with Lefia beside her, closed her eyes as she heard the howl of the hungry wolf.

"...!"

As for Ais, she broke through the rain while speeding toward the direction from which the loud roar came—heading toward the brothel.

"——————————————————————————!!"

On the rooftop platform of the brothel, now reduced to ruins.

Bert looked up at the cloud-covered night sky and roared repeatedly.

He called out loudly to the assassins lurking in the darkness, informing them of his location.

The signal cannon roared out for the upcoming battlefield.

The werewolf, its amber eyes bloodshot, unleashed a furious roar declaring war.

Side Story: Sword Oratoria 8, Chapter 5: The Wounded Wolf

Scholars of the past seem to have said that there are three reasons for the howling of wolves.

First, to let the enemy know the territory of their wolf pack.

Second, in order to find their lost companions.

Third, to deepen the bond between companions, they convey their feelings through barking into the air.

If Bert were to say that, none of these are correct; they are all completely wrong.

"Yaofei" means "oath".

They shook their throats, engraving their own enlightenment in the heavens.

Facing the heavens above the gods who looked down upon his insignificance, he swore an absolute will to devour the sun, the moon, and everything else.

Yes, bark so that everyone can hear it.

No matter what predicament we are forced into, no matter how utterly defeated we are, no matter how much we are hurt.

They all needed to rouse themselves and make a vow.

I vow to be stronger and more formidable than I was a second ago.

Only in this way can one finally gain the qualification to go to the battlefield.

And now, Bert has written down the oath—"To cease hunting."

He made up his mind to make sure his claws and fangs were stained with blood.

The distant barking echoed all the way to the horizon. The dark, gloomy sky seemed to tremble, reducing the rain's intensity. For a fleeting moment, through the clouds, a faint, shimmering golden outline could be seen deep within the sea of ​​clouds.

Soon, Bert, who had been barking incessantly, had his ears perked up sharply.

Bert's gray hairs stood on end as his senses became astonishingly sharp, letting him know that the time had come.

They've arrived. It's not a demonstration, not a search for companions, nor an attempt to maintain camaraderie; their shouts of declaration of location draw the assassins who seek to kill them.

The victims of claws and fangs have arrived.

Amber eyes surveyed the decadent city with disdain.

★

Hired assassins scurried through the darkness.

Despite being in the rain, they ran without letting a single drop of water bounce off them, their movements almost like shadows with their own will, crawling forward at breakneck speed. These figures in the darkness made their dark, murderous clothes flutter as they moved toward the distant high-rise buildings glimpsed through the gaps in the collapsed brothel, drawn by the wolf howls that still echoed from those rooftops.

The assassins drew their cursed weapons from their robes. These were deadly blades given to them by the dark faction.

Those hired not only received exorbitant sums of money, but also this "cursed tool." This weapon, more lethal than any poison, would likely unleash even more bloodshed once in the hands of criminal organizations (families). With it, the world would take another step in the right direction. The assassins, brainwashed from childhood under the guise of education, firmly believed this.

Upon reaching the intricate network of back alleys, over thirty assassins instantly scattered. The enemy surrounded the entire building where Bert was located and launched an attack. Even a first-class adventurer would face inevitable death if struck by this cursed weapon. He and his comrades would simply become lifeless magical bullets, after which their comrades would inherit their will. The relentless barrage of deadly bullets, like a May rainstorm, would surely kill the wounded wolf.

The assassins were absolutely certain of this, but little did they know...

(...? A loud roar...)

They discovered that the distant barking, which used to play a unique tune at night, had changed its tone—and then a chilling coldness descended upon them.

The timbre of burning anger had completely changed, transforming into a cold melody like the icy moon. Even as they moved through the ruins, they had the illusion that all the assassins were being stared at by those amber-colored twin arrays.

The werewolf that should have been on the rooftop vanished without a trace.

「!?」

Almost at the same time, the comrade's piercing screams soared into the sky.

One person was taken care of. In just a moment, he was defeated by the sharp teeth of the creature that landed on the ruins.

Before the assassins, holding their breath in the darkness, could even waver, more screams erupted. Then came the howl of wolves. The wolves, now silent, seemed to assert their presence once more, emitting a fierce, high-pitched howl.

(W-What happened...!?)

What should you be aware of when hunting "prey" (enemies) that are targeting you?

All you need to do is have both the perspectives of the hunter and the hunted.

The rules of experience accumulated within the tribe were deeply ingrained in this werewolf's heart. Bert Roca was originally a skilled wolf hunter.

He chose the path of an adventurer in order to become a "stronger" person.

But only for today; this werewolf must revert to his wild nature.

—The enemy is a purebred wolf hunter.

Normally emotionless assassins, whose breaths trembled uncontrollably in the face of any situation, were now filled with a chilling aura. This was because they had personally sensed the presence of hunters far superior to themselves and their comrades, which caused them to shudder so deeply.

"Roar! Ro ...

Whenever someone is eliminated, a loud shout is heard.

That was the wolves' show of force. "I'm not far from you, you're next, all of you." The hungry wolves, howling at them, would not give up.

The assassins gasped, moving about in various locations based on their own judgment, either to track the enemy or to hide. However, even this movement was anticipated by their opponents. The gray wolves seemed to have blocked their path first, one after another, eliciting screams of agony from the assassins.

This wolf's nose had never been so sharp. No matter how heavy the rain, washing away the lingering scent of its prey, its sense of smell always led its claws and teeth to the assassins.

A bigger reason is that the cursed weapons wielded by the assassins are far too dangerous and ominous, carrying an overwhelming stench of blood.

(Comrades were...!?)

The leader of the assassins counted down to the last scream and realized that all his comrades except himself had been wiped out.

He is the human who personally murdered the Amazonian girl.

This man was the only LV3 among those hired. The girl who had fought desperately to the very last moment, though having beaten many of his comrades to the point of exhaustion, was ultimately killed by him, who pierced her tender abdomen. Although the wolf's terrifying arrival prevented him from witnessing the ultimate moment of death, the fact that he had ravaged the beautiful girl's life already satisfied him. What did she say before she died, as she became a sacrifice for the new world? The man fantasized, immersed in a sense of accomplishment and a dark aftertaste.

He was now forced onto a precipice behind him, where a sea of ​​blood stretched out.

His mind refused to comprehend the situation. Killing at night should have been their trade, their exclusive stage; yet now, the tide had turned. What was the enemy? Perhaps not merely adventurers or hunters, but something entirely different, vicious and terrifying.

He didn't notice that his hand holding the short sword was trembling.

The unknown fascinates adventurers and can sometimes bring excitement.

However, the "unknown" can sometimes bring absolute fear.

Trapped in a maze-like network of back alleys, the assassin leader finally couldn't take it anymore and tried to escape, but in the next instant...

"————"

A hand reached out from the side path, grabbed his chin, and dragged him into the darkness.

"—Gugah!?"

Like sharp teeth biting into flesh, sheer grip crushed his jaw and slammed him to the ground. There was no time to use a "curse." The violent impact to the ground dislocated his shoulder, and the short sword slipped from his hand.

The assassin rolled on the ground, covered in dust and mud, groaning in pain as he slowly raised his trembling neck to look up at the being.

Looking up at the night sky, which is cut into the shape of back alleys, I see the fierce figure of a wolf.

"Ah, hoo, gaa...!?"

Faced with a hungry wolf silently taking a step closer to him, he thought of committing suicide.

But he couldn't. Now that his jaw was crushed, he couldn't use the poison hidden in his teeth to commit suicide. His dislocated shoulder also prevented him from gripping his weapon.

The metal boots that stepped out crushed the cursed dagger.

As he loosened his assassination suit, revealing his true identity, Bert the Wolf said:

"Hey, let me hear your roar."

That's right.

You have to yell.

For a new world order.

However, he couldn't shout it out.

Those amber eyes, bright as the moon's radiance—a gaze veiled with immense murderous intent yet brimming with tears—pushed him, who had never felt fear before, into the abyss of despair.

Instead of roaring, all that escaped from the shattered jaw was the sound of air as dry as a broken flute.

"If you can't even shout it out—"

The other person raised their hand high. Those were wolf fangs stained with blood.

The assassin, experiencing fear for the first time in his life, witnessed the moment the hand swung down with tremendous force.

"—Don't go to the battlefield (stand here)!!"

His consciousness was then interrupted.

★

"Hey, Finn... what happened to Bert?"

The “old-style underground sewers” ​​that are scattered throughout the city.

To prevent Valetta and the others from retreating into the artificial labyrinth (Knossos), when Finn led a force of the Loki Familia to set up their formation in the sewers, Tiona, wielding the large double blades (Ulgar), called out to inquire.

"Why did Bert become like that... so fond of calling others 'little guy,' looking down on them?"

"Tiona..."

Under the watchful eyes of her sister (Tione) and the other members, Tiona made up her mind and asked Finn.

This was the first question she posed when she truly confronted Bert, and it also sparked her interest in him. At this moment, she was eager to learn more about the werewolf she constantly argued with.

Tiony and the others followed her lead with the same sentiment. Under everyone's gaze, Finn remained silent for a moment before glancing at the group members.

"...Bert wouldn't talk about his own experiences. I don't know what he went through."

He turned his gaze back to the front of the waterway, his eyes drifting into the distance.

"Therefore, I can only offer my speculation, Bert, he..."

"That's too clumsy."

At the Dean & Kate Family Clinic.

Riveria answered Lefia and the others while gazing out the window at the gradually subsiding rain.

"You said he was...clumsy?"

"Yes, and it's reached a point of no return."

Riveria's words carried a slight sigh, indicating her approval.

"Bert's harsh words or insults, to put it extremely, all belong to the category of 'motivation.' That guy only knows how to encourage people with a rude tone of voice."

"what……"

Lefia also has experience.

When she, Philwiss, and Bert headed to the food warehouse on the 24th floor, he looked down on Rafia, who was always protected, and said it several times:

Are you satisfied with this? You can't even protect yourself.

—As long as you still have the nerve to say that your only strength is magic, you'll be a burden for the rest of your life.

—You're too naive.