Witches

The fight was a blur of raw power and ferocity. Desmond clashed with Were, their strikes shaking the air around them. Desmond's partially transformed arms and legs granted him an edge in speed and strength, but Were was unrelenting, his movements a blend of calculated grace and monstrous power.

Desmond feinted a strike to Were's left, but the scarred werewolf caught his wrist mid-swing and twisted. Pain shot through Desmond's arm, but he gritted his teeth and countered with a powerful kick to Were's ribs. The blow landed, but Were barely flinched, smirking as he released Desmond and stepped back.

"Not bad," Were said mockingly. "But not enough."

Gaston and Adam, observing the intense fight, saw an opening. They moved in unison—Gaston with his sword and Adam weaving sharp tendrils of winter sand. Were, distracted by Desmond, didn't see the attack coming. Gaston's blade slashed across his side while Adam's icy tendrils coiled around his arm, yanking him off balance.

Were growled, his irritation mounting. He wrenched free of the icy grip and leapt back, clutching his side where Gaston's blade had bitten deep. His patience was clearly running thin.

"Alright," Were snarled, his voice low and menacing. "Enough. Playtime's over."

Before their eyes, Were's body began to shift. His muscles expanded, his claws lengthened, and his fur grew thicker. His eyes gleamed with a predatory light, and his snarls turned guttural and wild. He moved—and in an instant, he was gone.

Whoosh!!

Gaston blinked, confused. "Where—"

Bam!!

A fist collided with his stomach, sending him flying upward. Were's afterimage faded as he leapt into the air, meeting Gaston mid-flight. With another devastating punch, he slammed Gaston back down, cratering the ground upon impact.

Adam's eyes widened in shock. Without hesitation, he conjured a lasso of winter sand, hurling it at Were's leg. The icy tendrils wrapped around Were's ankle, and Adam pulled with all his strength, slamming Were into the ground.

Bang!!

The dust and debris from the impact obscured Adam's view. He stared at the crater, waiting for movement. Then, a voice echoed behind him.

"You're using your powers so crudely."

Adam spun around, but it was too late. Were's fist connected with his side. Instinctively, Adam raised an ice wall to block the blow, but it shattered on impact. The force hurled Adam backward, rolling to a stop as he gasped for breath.

Were stalked toward him, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Your power is innate, isn't it? Raw, untamed, and entirely dependent on your mental energy. If you knew how to harness spirit energy, your ice wouldn't be so brittle."

Adam glared at him and summoned an array of ice spikes, sending them flying at Were. The werewolf smirked and smashed through them with ease.

"Let me show you what happens when spirit energy is combined with innate power."

Were tapped the ground with his foot, sending a violent tremor through the earth. Rocks rose into the air, surrounded by a visible aura of brown energy. They began to compress, merging into massive, jagged spheres that pulsed with power. With a swift, decisive motion, Were thrust his arm downward.

"Lycan's Verdict!"

The massive projectiles shot toward the ground at terrifying speed. Adam, Gaston, and Desmond looked up in horror as destruction rained down.

Adam gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He clasped his hands together, drawing in every ounce of energy he could muster. The air around him grew cold—so cold that frost formed on the nearby ground. Desmond felt the temperature plummet and noticed snowflakes swirling around Adam.

"What is he doing?" Desmond muttered, his breath visible in the icy air.

Adam closed his eyes, envisioning the iconic move from a hero in MHA universe. "I hope this works," he whispered.

With a roar, Adam thrust his hands upward. A massive spike of ice erupted from the ground, towering into the sky.

The earth shook violently as the meteors crashed against the ice wall. Some of the spikes penetrated, smashing into the village and destroying homes, but the majority were halted.

Adam stared at the icy wall, awestruck. "I… I actually did it, To think that I can also use the move of Shoto Todoroki," he thought, a small smile forming despite his exhaustion.

"Arrrghh!!" But his triumph was short-lived. A sharp pain seared through his head, and he fell to his knees, clutching his temples.

Clap!! Clap!!

Were's voice echoed mockingly as he clapped. "See? That's the drawback of innate powers—they drain your mental energy. But I must applaud you for creating something like this without relying on spirit energy. Truly impressive."

Were's grin widened. "But do you think I can only do this once?" He raised his hand, ready to summon another devastating attack.

But before he could finish his taunt, a voice interrupted from the side. "I won't let you!"

Were turned his head, irritation flickering across his face as he spotted Gaston charging at him, sword in hand.

"Do you know how much of a nuisance you are?" Were muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Bam!!

Were's fist collided with Gaston's face, sending him hurtling through the air. The sound of the impact reverberated across the battlefield like a thunderclap.

Before Gaston even hit the ground, Were vanished, leaving only a faint blur in his place. In an instant, he reappeared mid-air beside Gaston, his fist already cocked back.

Wham!!

The second punch drove Gaston into the earth like a meteor, cracking the ground beneath him. Dust and debris shot up into the air as the sheer force of the blow created a small crater.

Gaston groaned, his body limp and bloodied. But Were wasn't done. He loomed over the hunter, eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction.

"Stay down," Were growled. But Gaston, battered as he was, attempted to move.

Were's lips curled in disgust. "Persistent fool."

He raised his fists and brought them down on Gaston with a brutal flurry of punches.

THUD!! THUD!! THUD!!

Each strike sent tremors rippling through the ground. Blood sprayed with every impact, and soon, Gaston's face was nearly unrecognizable, his features lost beneath a mask of crimson.

Were grabbed Gaston by the hair, lifting his battered form effortlessly. Gaston dangled limply, his breaths shallow, his strength all but gone.

"Hey," Were said with a sneer, his voice mockingly casual, "do you know where Ruby is?"

Gaston's lips parted, blood dripping from his mouth. For a moment, it seemed he might speak.

Ptui!!

But instead, he spat at Were, the glob of blood and saliva landing on the werewolf's cheek.

Were's expression darkened instantly. His grip on Gaston's hair tightened as his free hand formed into claws.

"You won't need this anymore," Were hissed.

SHLK!!

"ARGGGHH!!!" Gaston's scream of agony tore through the air as Were drove his claws into the hunter's face, gouging out one of his eyes. Blood streamed from the wound as Gaston writhed in pain.

"Pathetic," Were muttered, tossing Gaston's limp body to the ground like discarded trash.

Desmond roared, his voice reverberating through the battlefield. "WERE!!! YOU FUCKER!"

The fury in his tone was palpable, enough to make even the three werewolves surrounding him falter for a moment. Were turned his attention away from Gaston's battered body, his lips curling into a disdainful smirk. "Oh, I forgot about you," he said mockingly.

Desmond surged forward, his movements feral and raw. His partially transformed limbs propelled him with incredible speed, his claws tearing through the air as he closed the gap between himself and Were. Their clash was brutal, each strike resonating like thunder.

CLANG!! SLASH!! BOOM!!

Desmond's claws scraped against Were's chest, drawing blood, but Were retaliated with a devastating kick to Desmond's midsection, sending him skidding across the ground.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Were said, brushing the blood from his chest.

Desmond snarled, lunging again. This time, his attacks were faster, more unpredictable. The two combatants moved in a blur, trading blows that cracked the earth beneath them. Desmond's claws tore into Were's shoulder, and Were responded by grabbing Desmond's arm and twisting it brutally.

CRACK!

Desmond howled in pain as his arm was dislocated. Were didn't stop there. He grabbed Desmond's other arm and, with a sickening crunch, snapped it at the elbow.

"Still alive? Impressive," Were said coldly, throwing Desmond to the ground.

Desmond lay there, his limbs rendered useless, his body battered and broken. Blood pooled beneath him as Were knelt beside him, his claws gleaming in the moonlight.

"Where is Ruby?" Were asked, his tone calm but menacing.

Desmond coughed, spitting blood before letting out a weak, raspy laugh. "I don't even know... haha," he said, his defiance unwavering despite the agony he was in.

Were's smirk faded, replaced by an expression of pure rage. "You're testing my patience, Desmond," he growled.

Desmond coughed up blood but still managed to smirk, his voice filled with defiance as he looked up at Were.

"Do I look like I care?" he sneered, his laughter echoing across the battlefield.

Were's expression darkened, his claws extending as he raised his arm for the final blow. "You'll regret that."

Before he could strike, a chorus of sinister laughter rang out from the skies. The sound grew louder, sharp and mocking, causing Were to pause and glance upward. His golden eyes narrowed as several shadowy figures descended from the night sky, perched on broomsticks, their tattered robes fluttering in the wind.

The witches had arrived.

Desmond's smirk deepened as he saw them. Despite his battered and bloodied state, he managed to rasp, "Looks like my reinforcements are here too."

The witches hovered above, their eerie presence casting an ominous glow over the battlefield. One of them, an older witch with wild gray hair and a staff adorned with bones, cackled as she pointed her gnarled finger at Were.

"Oh, look at this one, sisters! A big bad wolf playing with his food. How quaint!"

Were growled, his muscles tensing as he turned to face them. "Stay out of this. This doesn't concern your kind."

Another witch, younger with emerald-green eyes that shimmered like venom, snorted.

"Oh, but it does," she said, her tone dripping with mockery as she tired her head. "We were commissioned by that guy, you see," she added, pointing her finger at Desmond.

The elder witch grinned wickedly. "And we don't take kindly to those who harm our client."

Were straightened, his muscles tensing as his golden eyes glinted with anger. "You dare interfere?"

The lead witch chuckled again. "Oh, we don't just dare. We thrive on it." She raised her staff, and the air around her shimmered as magical symbols lit up in the darkness.

The battlefield erupted into chaos, with Desmond watching the spectacle unfold. Despite his injuries, he couldn't help but grin. "Now this," he said weakly, "is what I call a fight."

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HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!