The Martial Unity

[Author's Note: I think there was a bit of a misunderstanding from the last chapter. The Brazinger Clan isn't a werewolf clan, though I can see now how that could be the conclusion you guys would make. I won't say anymore, I prefer to explain via the story's narrative]

The man's face distorted. The cracks to his bones and teeth healed as his nose became a snout and his hands gained claws.

The clothes on his back tore to shreds, revealing a tight compression suit that covered much of his fur.

Though all six were weremen, the beasts they morphed into were completely different. While the man who wielded Aina's ax seemed to be crossbred with a wolf, one seemed more akin to a fox, another looked more like a hyena with gross colored yellow fur. In addition, there was a panther, a cheetah-like man, and finally a … rat?

Of all the men, there was one who instead of growing in size shrank instead. In addition, the boosts to his stats were the most minimal. However, when Leonel's gaze landed on him, the blaring sounds of warning shot through his mind.

Leonel couldn't understand where this warning was coming from. He was certain that he didn't have such an ability. So what was going on?

Unfortunately, there wasn't time to think about it. The werewolf's howl had come to an end, fiendish growls and dripping saliva fell from his sharp teeth, a crazed glare piercing toward Aina.

He gripped Aina's ax, his muscles pushing against his compression clothing like tightened steel cords. The power brimming in his body was simply unimaginable.

His and Aina's gazes collided in the air before they simultaneously shot forward, fury painting both of their features.

Leonel no longer hung back. He was already not far from the group after his initial charge. In addition, it was in none of their best interests for this battle to drag on.

As though in tacit agreement, none of them used their Force. If they did so and caused an Invalid horde to make their way here… They wouldn't even know how they died.

his wooden spear piercing toward the

the moment he used the spear, he felt a savage aura envelop his body. It was as though he had entered the jungle once more, and this man before him was

savage grin appearing on his

to be at a loss. Before the latter could react, the stone blade had already appeared at his neck. In that moment, he really felt he would lose his life. The bloodthirsty pressure emitting from Leonel was no different than one of

his blackened

blade. The sight of him dicing up the stone blade of

But reality was cruel.

impossible coordination, the werepanther's claw, which had been aimed at the flat of the blade,

arm swept upward as though this was the strike he wanted to levy from the

roars of the werepanther sounded as three

him time to retreat. His hips swung, his legs flexed, his toes almost dug through his treasure shoes to leave ten indents on the broken concrete beneath

a supplementary muscle. The tiniest fibers, the weakest ligaments, each was put into motion, squeezing out

Leonel was truly conscious at this moment, he would realize that his coordination stat had

the chest of the roaring werepanther in a flash. He had lost the werehyena due to his interruption, so

a man turned panther flew into

and the werewolf acted as a backdrop, to the four remaining

head back toward the four. Maybe by coincidence, a tear of blood fell to the corner

though he

his finger. It released a searing heat

four beastmen inadvertently took a

ability attached to Leonel's state. It was as though his blood was boiling with excitement instead. He was so excited to kill them