Chapter 19 : 1 vs 3

Henry stood poised, ready to unleash his fury upon the advancing werewolves. The moonlight glinted off their matted fur, their eyes burning with feral hunger. But just as he was about to charge forward, a firm hand caught his arm.

"Henry," Diana's voice was calm but insistent, "at least wear your gloves. We don't need your hands getting dirty."

Her confidence in him was palpable, a quiet reminder of the countless battles he had fought and won. Henry's lips twitched into a small smile as he nodded, taking the dragonhide gloves from her outstretched hand. The gloves fit snugly over his powerful hands, their enchanted hide providing an extra layer of protection.

Diana turned to Hector, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. "Hector, you need to be prepared. Here," she handed him a sword with a dragonhide grip, "this will help. And take these gloves. They'll protect you."

Hector accepted the sword and gloves, feeling the weight of the weapon in his hand. The dragonhide gloves were a perfect fit, and he flexed his fingers, testing their grip. He could feel the magic coursing through the gloves, enhancing his already formidable strength.

Henry took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving the werewolves. "Remember, son. Stay focused and don't hesitate. These creatures are ruthless, and they will not show mercy."

Hector nodded, his resolve hardening. "I'm ready, Dad."

Henry turned his attention back to the werewolves, his expression cold and unyielding. "Let's get this over with."

Diana's eyes were sharp as she scanned the alley, ensuring there were no hidden threats. "Stay close to your father, Hector. He'll keep you safe."

Henry and Hector moved forward in unison, the quiet determination between them creating a palpable tension in the air. As they advanced, Henry's eyes flicked over the werewolves, assessing their movements, predicting their attacks.

"Watch their patterns, Hector," Henry instructed, his voice steady. "They're fast, but they're predictable. Use that to your advantage."

Hector nodded, absorbing his father's advice. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. This was the moment he had been training for, the moment to prove his worth.

Henry's eyes glinted with anticipation. "Diana, stand back. We've got this."

Diana stepped back, her confidence in her husband and son unshaken. She knew the strength of a Marshall, knew the legacy they carried. This was their fight, and she trusted them to emerge victorious.

Henry flexed his gloved hands, the dragonhide creaking softly. "Stay focused, Hector. Remember your training. And remember, we are Marshalls. We do not back down."

Hector's grip on the sword tightened, his determination solidifying. "I won't let you down, Dad."

Henry's smile was brief but filled with pride. "I know you won't. Now, let's show them what it means to cross a Marshall."

With that, they braced themselves, ready to face the oncoming onslaught.

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Henry's heart pounded with anticipation, not fear, as he faced the three werewolves before him. Each of them snarled and growled, their eyes filled with a feral rage that was a stark reminder of the danger they posed. But Henry was not intimidated; he was a Marshall, and he relished the challenge.

He flexed his fingers inside the dragonhide gloves Diana had insisted he wear. They were a perfect fit, enhancing his already formidable grip. The gloves gleamed faintly under the moonlight, their enchantments absorbing the ambient magic and providing a near-indestructible barrier. He glanced at Diana and Hector, giving them a reassuring nod before turning his full attention to the werewolves.

The werewolves hesitated for a moment, sensing the raw power radiating from Henry. They were used to instilling fear in their prey, not encountering someone who looked at them with such calm confidence. Henry's posture was relaxed, almost casual, as if he were preparing for a sparring session rather than a deadly confrontation.

"Come on, then," he taunted, his voice low and steady. "Show me what you've got."

The first werewolf lunged at him with a savage growl, its claws extended and jaws snapping. Henry sidestepped effortlessly, his movements a blur as he brought his fist down in a crushing blow to the creature's lower jaw. The force of the impact shattered bone and sent the werewolf reeling, howling in pain and fury.

Without missing a beat, Henry spun around and delivered a powerful kick to the second werewolf, sending it crashing into the third. The two beasts scrambled to their feet, their eyes blazing with hatred. Henry's grin widened. It had been too long since he'd faced a worthy opponent.

He advanced on the second werewolf, his fists clenched and ready. The creature snarled and swiped at him, but Henry was faster. He ducked under the swing and delivered a bone-crunching uppercut to the werewolf's abdomen, lifting it off the ground and sending it flying backwards.

The third werewolf saw its opportunity and lunged at Henry's exposed side. Henry anticipated the move and sidestepped, grabbing the werewolf by the throat with one hand. The creature thrashed and clawed at him, but Henry's grip was unyielding. With a swift, brutal motion, he twisted his wrist and tore the werewolf's throat out, blood spraying in an arc around him.

The first werewolf, recovering from the initial blow, roared in fury and charged at Henry once more. Henry met the charge head-on, his fists glowing with the energy of his body magic. He ducked under the creature's wild swipe and drove his fist into its chest, feeling the ribs crack and give way under the force. He followed up with a devastating punch to the creature's lower jaw, shattering it completely and ripping the throat out. The werewolf fell to the ground, its body convulsing before going still.

Henry turned his attention to the second werewolf, which had regained its footing and was circling him warily. It bared its teeth, saliva dripping from its jaws. Henry beckoned it with a taunting gesture. "Is that all you've got?"

The werewolf let out a roar of rage and leapt at him. Henry moved with lightning speed, his body a blur as he met the creature mid-air. He grabbed it by the spine, his fingers digging into the flesh and bone. With a ferocious yell, he ripped the werewolf's backbone out of its body, the creature's screams abruptly cut off as it collapsed into a lifeless heap.

The third werewolf, now the last one standing, seemed to realize the hopelessness of its situation. It backed away slowly, growling low in its throat. Henry advanced on it, his eyes cold and determined. The werewolf made a desperate swipe at him, but Henry caught its arm and twisted it sharply, breaking the bone with a sickening crunch.

He followed up with a series of rapid punches, each one shattering bone and rupturing flesh. The werewolf's limbs flailed helplessly, and Henry finished it off with a final, crushing blow to the head, shattering the skull and ending the fight.

Henry stood over the three lifeless bodies, his breath coming in steady, controlled gasps. He glanced at his gloves, now stained with blood, and removed them with a sigh. "I suppose Diana was right about the gloves," he muttered to himself.

He turned to where Diana and Hector were standing. Diana rushed to his side, her eyes scanning him for any signs of injury. "Are you alright, Henry?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"I'm fine," he replied, a reassuring smile on his face. "Just a bit messy."

Diana cast a cleaning spell, removing the blood and grime from his clothes and skin. "You always manage to make a mess," she teased gently.

Henry chuckled. "Can't be helped, I'm afraid."

His attention shifted to Hector, who was still locked in combat with the fourth werewolf. Henry watched with a mixture of pride and concern as his son fought valiantly. Hector had been training hard, and it showed in the way he moved, his strikes precise and powerful.

Henry placed a comforting hand on Diana's shoulder. "He's doing well, Diana. He's proving himself."

Diana nodded, her eyes fixed on their son. "Yes, he is. He's strong, just like you."

Henry smiled, his heart swelling with pride. "And just like you, Diana. He has your strength and your courage."

Henry and Diana held their breath, ready to step in if needed, but confident in their son's abilities.

Henry's thoughts returned to the present, to the fight unfolding before him. He knew that this was just the beginning for Hector, that there would be many more battles to come. But he also knew that with each battle, Hector would grow stronger, more skilled, and more confident.

As the fight continued, Henry's mind was filled with thoughts of the future. He imagined Hector standing beside him, a powerful and capable warrior, ready to face any challenge. He knew that with each battle, Hector would learn and grow, becoming the warrior he was meant to be.

Henry's gaze remained fixed on Hector, his heart filled with pride and determination. He knew that they would face many more challenges together, but he was confident in their ability to overcome them. The Marshalls were strong, and they would always stand together, no matter what.

As Hector fought, Henry and Diana watched with unwavering support, ready to step in if needed, but confident in their son's abilities. They knew that this was just the beginning, and they were ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, together as a family.