"Roar!"
With a wolf's roar, sharp claws descended with crushing force, almost tearing the black-maned worgen charging madly before him wide open along the chest. But he did not stop. The reek of blood filling the battlefield drove every worgen who entered it into a frenzy of rage. He swung his other claw. The Bloodfang worgen blocking his way whimpered in terror. From those fear-filled eyes, it was easy to see that before being infected, this fellow had certainly been a coward.
But when the sharp claws swept across his chest, that coward only had time for a scream before his body, nearly torn into four pieces, flew outward. The towering, frenzied figure, clad in heavy iron armor with metal blades fitted over his claws, threw back his head and roared. His left hand clutched a still-beating heart.
The three differently colored streaks of mane on his face had been dyed red with blood, making him look like a butcher who had walked out of hell.
The former Highlord Darius Crowley unleashed the endless rage flowing through his blood upon the battlefield, but his mind kept the final shackle against madness firmly locked. Behind him, the Moonrage worgen were furious, yet like Crowley, they remained bound by a reason that stood above their blood. Though scattered, they still maintained the most basic formations, just as they had out of habit when they were soldiers.
They helped one another and worked together to kill their enemies. That alone made them ten thousand times stronger than the utterly chaotic Bloodfang worgen blocking their path. Those madmen, completely reduced to slaves of power, knew only to push forward and swing their claws like beasts. But they could never break the Moonrage worgen's defensive line. However strong beasts were, they could never defeat humans.