Chapter 49

The moon was the color of blood, the environment, a place I'd consider hell. There was nothing to see other than the horrors I wished I never relieved, turns out reality was harsher to witness than experience. With nothing I could do to help people who were suffering, seeing them killed in front of me, I fell into that spiral of hopelessness. If anything, I wished I'd be transported to the next place of memory, not this. Not bloodshed.

"Kill that monster!" A warrior ordered, possibly a general seeing the hint in his attire and that he was responsible for commanding others. I thought of General Rui and General Cassius, undeniably, fierce and serious when in battle.

A person transformed into a werewolf right before my eyes, emitting a powerful, menacing growl from deep within his throat. Soon, others followed suit. As I observed the battlefield, a couple of significant revelations emerged. Firstly, the Southerners were also werewolves, and secondly, the West and South