Werewolf

Crack!

Avelardo, fallen to the ground, gripped the tip of Lothar's thrusting blade with his bare hands. The metal plates of his chainmail glove caught the edge of Lothar's arming sword, stopping its advance.

"Good, very good, you have successfully angered me!"

Just as the spectators in the stands thought the tide was about to turn and Lothar was about to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

Avelardo suddenly exerted his strength, his muscles bulging and hardening like granite. He violently threw Lothar, who was on top of him, off.

He immediately got up, intending to retrieve the hand-and-a-half sword he had stuck in the mud.

But Lothar wouldn't give him that chance. His formidable Stamina allowed him to quickly rise from the ground. With a powerful charge, he tackled Avelardo to the side.

He gripped both the hilt and the tip of his arming sword, trying to stab it into the gap of Avelardo's bucket helmet.

But Avelardo was faster. He shielded his chest with his arms, blocking the thrust. Then, with a twist of his hands, he grabbed Lothar's blade and forcefully twisted it in half.

"Get lost!"

He roared with all his might.

Bang—

Lothar was once again kicked flying by Avelardo.

Both were now fighting bare-handed.

The sound of breathing from beneath the bucket helmets was like bellows.

Lothar noticed that Avelardo had become taller and larger than before. His once loose robe was now stretched taut, and though he hunched over slightly, he still looked like a small giant.

"What the hell are you?" Lothar's tone was grave.

Avelardo sneered, "Guess."

The clamor from outside meant that no one else heard their conversation. Lothar had no intention of rallying the crowd to expose Avelardo's true nature. He had only caught a glimpse, and he couldn't be certain what kind of monster the other man was. Even if he was 100% sure Avelardo wasn't human, without proof, he couldn't do anything, and it would only make him look like a fool. Moreover, with the chaos in the arena, no one would hear him even if he shouted.

"What if I surrender?"

Avelardo chuckled softly. "It's too late. You won't get the chance. The moment you dare to raise your hand, I'll kill you!"

Raising a hand to signal surrender. This was a simple gesture in normal times. But facing an opponent like Avelardo, it was akin to exposing a weakness. Avelardo could then kill him and claim it was a reflex, an instinctive action. In the arena, life and death were by fate, and no one would blame him for it.

"That's too bad."

Lothar's words were perfunctory, but the next moment, his body, like a taut bowstring suddenly released, shot towards the hand-and-a-half sword Avelardo had dropped.

"This cunning brat." Avelardo cursed inwardly and lunged forward. His heavy iron armor didn't seem to impede his Agility at all.

Just as Lothar was about to grab the hilt of the hand-and-a-half sword, Avelardo seized his lower leg, pulling him down in a stumble. As Lothar fell, he immediately raised his fist and smashed it hard into Lothar's leg. Intense pain instantly consumed Lothar's entire consciousness. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to cry out.

As he kicked the other man's head and sent him flying, Lothar managed to grab the hand-and-a-half sword. However, Avelardo clearly wasn't flustered. He stood opposite Lothar, his tone mocking, "With one leg crippled, how are you going to fight me now?"

"Heh."

A wry smile appeared on Lothar's face. He used the hand-and-a-half sword to support his broken leg. Then he looked towards Banya, who was watching from outside the arena.

"This time, my life is in your hands, Banya." he muttered silently.

If he had known Avelardo possessed such terrifying Strength, he would never have engaged in a direct confrontation. It was just the title of Champion Knight and some money... He had no intention of becoming a vassal under Count Leopold.

Just as Avelardo thought Lothar was distracted and planned to circle behind him for an attack. Banya, who was watching from the sidelines, had a face as cold as frost. The people around her instinctively moved away, creating a distance of over ten meters.

In Lothar's ears, the System's prompt sounded like heavenly music.

Your intimacy with the legendary retainer Banya has increased to Friendly.

Unlocked your first Bond Shared Talent: Stone Wall (Immune to all physical damage for the next three seconds.)

You will share one of your own Talents with your retainer: Banya.

Given you only have one Talent, this Talent defaults to: Two Lives (Having merged two souls, you are born with twice the Spirit of an ordinary person, permanently increasing your maximum Spirit by 5).

Lothar paid no further attention to the System's prompts and decisively chose to activate the "Stone Wall" Talent.

Avelardo's heavy fist struck Lothar, but it brought him no pain. He merely staggered from the immense force before regaining his footing.

"Go down!"

Avelardo lunged forward, sending his hand-and-a-half sword flying far away, and pinning Lothar to the ground.

Bang, bang, bang—

The sound of iron fists striking his body was incessant.

Lothar seemed to have completely lost the ability to resist, allowing Avelardo's powerful iron fists to continuously smash into him.

On the viewing stands, some noble ladies flushed with excitement, but more covered their faces, feigning distress.

"Avelardo is truly too strong. I wonder if he's just as capable in bed?"

"That knight called Lothar is also very strong, but unfortunately, Avelardo is stronger."

"Heavenly Father above, this is too cruel. I never imagined the refined Knight Avelardo would be so ferocious on the battlefield."

Suddenly, Avelardo's body froze.

In Lothar's hand, a shattered sword tip was held, and he had plunged it from behind into Avelardo's chainmail gorget, which had thinned due to him lowering his head.

"My heavens, what did he do?"

"It's the tip of his arming sword! When did he even grab it?"

"This is dishonorable! He actually used a trick to kill Avelardo!"

On the viewing stands, the crowd began to stir.

Thump.

Lothar flipped the heavy man off his body onto the ground.

He could feel Avelardo's once bulging body rapidly deflating, like air escaping a balloon.

"Heh heh..."

A chilling, terrifying laugh echoed.

From the gaps in Avelardo's helmet, large clumps of black blood foam spilled out.

Avelardo's weak, intermittent voice sounded, "So, you're not human either, you bastard. Just you wait, sooner or later, you'll be like me."

"Heavenly Father doesn't favor people like us."

Lothar ignored the clamor of arguments in his ears.

He looked towards Banya, not far away. The eyes above the retainer's veil remained as clear and cold as the moon.

It seemed as if she had never worried about his safety from the very beginning.

Crack—

Lothar lifted the face guard from under Avelardo's helmet, revealing a terrifying head covered in gray fur, resembling that of a ferocious wolf.

The uproar in the stands faltered for a moment.

What followed was an even more boisterous wave of discussion.

"My god, Avelardo... is that Avelardo?"

"Heavenly Father above, what did I just see? Avelardo's head is a wolf's head!"

"So Avelardo was actually an evil werewolf! None of us noticed! No wonder his Stamina was so abundant!"

"This Lothar actually killed a werewolf! That's a legendary monster!"

Count Leopold looked at the witch advisor beside him, his expression filled with doubt and confusion.

The red-robed witch smiled faintly, "Avelardo was indeed a werewolf, but the blood energy on him wasn't strong, nor was he surrounded by vengeful spirits. This proves he wasn't a wanton killer."

Leopold said with some annoyance, "Why didn't you tell me beforehand?"

The smile on the red-robed witch's face remained, "Why should I have told you? What harm would it do you to recruit a powerful werewolf as your retainer?"

Leopold fell silent.

No one noticed this brief exchange.

At this moment, the terrifying din on the arena threatened to shake the heavens.

And the focus of their discussion, Lothar, stumbled and fell to the ground, his grueling battle with Avelardo having exhausted all his Stamina.

Evening.

In the bathhouse of Lienz.

Lothar let his body float on the surface of the water. His recovery speed was very fast, and his Stamina value exceeding ten allowed him to last much longer than ordinary people.

Most of the bruises on his body had already disappeared.

Even the most severe bruises on his calves were not as obvious now.

Fortunately, he was wearing chainmail greaves on his calves. If it were those impoverished knights wearing leg wraps, their leg bones would likely have been directly broken.

This bathhouse was said to have been modified from something left over from the Ancient Empire era, appearing extremely spacious and grand.

Incense was burning nearby, and a maid waited respectfully at the side, her graceful figure appearing and disappearing behind thin veils, ready to be enjoyed by him at any time.

This place once belonged to the Noricum Province of the Ancient Empire.

Although the empire was gone, people still felt a sense of longing and aspiration for that nation buried in the ruins of history.

Even today, the Eastern Empire remained the light of civilization.

The lords of Lienz throughout the generations had preserved and renovated this bathhouse based on its original structure.

It was just a pity that it had transitioned from a public bathhouse to the private property of the lord.

The habit of people in the Middle Ages not bathing only began after the Black Death raged, because some priests believed that bathing would open the pores, making it easier for the virus to enter.

Before that, people in the Middle Ages also loved bathhouses as places for both socializing and leisure.