Chapter 44: The Black Wolf

Victor left the bustling trade city behind, having heard rumors of a new monstrous threat in a distant village. His journey took him past rugged mountains, their peaks shrouded in mist. As he descended into a valley, a horrific sight met his eyes.

The village lay in ruins, a macabre scene of blood and carnage. Bodies were strewn across the ground, torn apart with viscera spilling out. Men and women lay lifeless, their faces frozen in terror. The remains of children were scattered, their tiny forms lifeless and broken. The air was thick with the stench of death, and the ground was slick with blood.

Victor steeled himself and moved cautiously through the village, his senses alert. As he investigated, a group of survivors emerged from the shadows, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow. The village chief, an old man with a weathered face, stepped forward.

"What happened here?" Victor asked, his voice calm and steady.

The chief's voice trembled as he spoke. "An alpha werewolf, with fur as black as night. It demanded tribute from us—young, virgin girls. Out of fear, we complied. But the girls fled the village, too scared to stay. In its rage, the beast destroyed our home, slaughtering everyone it could find. It left a few of us alive to bring it more virgins, demanding we meet it in the forest tonight."

Victor's expression hardened. "I'll take care of it."

The villagers tried to dissuade him, their voices filled with desperation, but Victor's resolve was unshakable. As night fell, he ventured into the forest, the darkness enveloping him. Using his shadow abilities, he blended into the night, becoming one with the shadows.

The alpha werewolf sensed his presence, its nostrils flaring as it detected the danger. It lunged at Victor with a feral growl, but Victor was ready. Their battle was fierce and brutal, the werewolf's strength and ferocity matched by Victor's agility and precision.

"You think you can defeat me, human?" the werewolf snarled, its eyes glowing with malevolence.

Victor's response was cold and determined. "I've faced worse."

Their clash continued, the forest echoing with the sounds of their struggle. Victor used his ability to sense the werewolf's movements, dodging its powerful strikes and countering with precise attacks. Despite the werewolf's immense power, Victor's skill and determination began to turn the tide.

After what felt like an eternity, Victor saw an opening. With a swift and decisive strike, he severed the werewolf's head from its body. As the first light of dawn began to break through the trees, Victor stood victorious, the werewolf's head held firmly in his grasp.

Back in the village, the remaining survivors had spent the night in fearful anticipation. As the sun rose, their hearts sank, fearing the worst. But then, emerging from the forest, they saw Victor. Dragging the werewolf's head behind him, he approached the villagers and tossed it at their feet.

"This beast won't trouble you anymore," Victor said, his voice devoid of emotion.

The villagers looked at him in awe and gratitude, unable to find the words to express their relief. Victor nodded and turned to leave, his mission complete. As he departed, a group of knights arrived, summoned by the villagers for help. They were too late to fight the werewolf but were stunned to see its severed head.

"What happened here?" one of the knights asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The village chief stepped forward, his voice filled with reverence. "A hunter came and saved us. He fought the beast and killed it. His name is Victor."

The knights exchanged glances, impressed and curious. "Victor, you say? He must be a remarkable hunter."

The villagers nodded in agreement, and word of Victor's feat began to spread. Unbeknownst to him, his actions had earned him a new title. As stories of his bravery and skill circulated, people across the land began to know him as "The Black Wolf," the most renowned monster hunter in the realm.