Werewolf Spotted (2)

The witch’s reply was not worded politely, but simply and concisely listed the required materials.

The last item on the list, and the most special, was the blood of a werewolf.

Werewolves would lose their minds on the day of the blood moon, but the increase in strength and the stability of their explosive power were real.

Vampires and werewolves were like fire and water.
Lorken hadn’t expected that the race he despised the most would be the key to you getting your legs.
For some reason, he subconsciously hid this information from you.

And at this moment, the witch was lingering in the town precisely because of Ulfar’s plea for help.
His grandmother had been poisoned with a difficult-to-cure toxin and was on the verge of death.

Ulfar had made a deal with one of his fingers after transforming into a beast, but now the problem was the lack of materials for the antidote.

Compared to him, the witch’s demands on you were very light.
You didn’t need to give up a part of your body, only collect some items from the deep sea for her.

Thus, Ulfar received a message from Lorken, something that had never happened before.

It was a strange thing indeed.
A vampire trying to make a deal with a werewolf.

Ulfar’s personality was not carefree; he was more of a rough but detailed person.
He wouldn’t believe that this old vampire suddenly wanted to taste a werewolf.

Normally, he would have completely ignored this absurd message, but his grandmother’s life was in danger, and time was running out.
In his desperation, he was even willing to meet with a vampire calmly.

He took the message and wanted to ask the witch what a werewolf’s blood was good for.
The window of the room was wide open, and he could see the witch, who often ignored people, still immersed in her own world, working with her bottles and jars as if no one else existed.
Occasionally, a black mist swirled around her.

The witch was not someone who was willing to be a well-rounded middleman.
She answered the vampire’s message concisely and dealt with the werewolf Ulfar’s plea for help separately.
She would not take on the role of a communicator.

Her desk was too crowded.
Once again, she pulled out an item, and a light piece of paper was dragged along with it.
This thing couldn’t catch the witch’s attention at all.
It floated down for a few seconds and landed at Ulfar’s feet.

It was a piece of letter paper, with exquisite and intricate handwriting on it.

So it was a fish who wanted to have legs.

He transformed into a werewolf in the night, his movements agile.
Silently following the unfamiliar scent his nose had caught, he quickly climbed up the wall of the castle to the windowsill.

And then he saw you.

The special amber-gold eyes, under the faint candlelight, shone with a metallic luster.

You looked at these eyes and asked again.

“Who are you?
What are you doing here?”

A werewolf visiting a vampire’s castle late at night, no matter how you looked at it, it seemed like he was looking for trouble with Lorken.

But this was too strange.
Compared to the octopus-man and the vampire, the bipedal werewolf made you more curious.

The marks on his cheeks didn’t make his face ugly.
A wolf head with pure, glossy fur.

Instead, you couldn’t tell if the lines on his cheeks were scars or irregular totems.

The translucent fishtail was spread out on the white sheets.
Just as you saw the half-beast, half-human werewolf, Ulfar was also surprised by the beautiful fishtail.

He had once seen a mermaid in the sea from a distance when he was young, but he had never interacted with one or had any thought of approaching one.

And this one in front of him seemed a little different.

“Ulfar, you remember, for all other races except vampires, we only need to be friendly or not disturb each other.”
His grandmother had told him so.

Thinking of his grandmother, Ulfar’s emotions fluctuated.
He watched you prop yourself up and sit up, and your first words were a question.

“Are you the one who wants to make a deal with me?”

“What deal?” you asked subconsciously, not understanding.

“You don’t know?”
You heard the werewolf answer you.
You could even see a look of surprise on his furry face.

Soon, the werewolf in front of you told you his purpose for coming.

“Your blood?”

A werewolf’s blood?
What did you need that for?

“Actually, Lorken didn’t tell me he needed you…”

You told the werewolf in front of you the list of items the witch had demanded from you.

Vampires and werewolves always belittled each other.
Ulfar showed what seemed to be a mocking expression, his muzzle revealing his wolf teeth, “Because vampires are always despicable.”

Then he pulled out a piece of letter paper from his waist and handed it to you.
You took it.
It was the familiar smooth feel of paper, the same material as the paper you had written your name on in Lorken’s study.

But the problem was, “I can’t read it.
I’m not literate yet.”

The problem was that you were illiterate, so you were deceived and had information hidden from you by Lorken.
You didn’t think Lorken didn’t want to help you, but his act of hiding it made you frown.

“So, why did you come to find me?”

Ulfar raised an eyebrow.
You saw the brow ridge on his face lift, “The materials the witch wants you to trade for are exactly what I need.”

“I was prepared for the worst, to make a deal directly with the vampire, but since you exist.”

“I want to ask you to help me.
I can’t trust the despicable vampire.”

“I will give you everything you need.
I need to save my family.”

As he spoke, Ulfar knelt on one knee by your bed, his large wolf head closer to you.
You could clearly see his black nose, with a fine, cracked skin texture on it.

The werewolf, who stood over two meters tall, was covered in wolfish features.
His tone when he asked you was not forceful, but pleading.

He wanted to bypass Lorken, the middleman, and make a deal directly with you.

You could completely understand his inability to trust his mortal enemy.

“What do I need to do?”

You needed legs to walk freely.
When it came to achieving your goal, you didn’t care about the process.

Ulfar’s furry face showed a look of joy, his golden eyes sparkling.
He was about to answer you when your door was knocked.

“Knock, knock.”
Two knocks were followed by Lorken’s voice.

“Not asleep yet?”

Reaching out to lift the bed curtain on the side facing the door, the sound of the large, carved wooden door was particularly clear in the dead of night.

You didn’t answer immediately, reflexively turning to look at Ulfar.
He gave you a deep look and then quickly climbed out of the windowsill, even closing the window behind him, silently.

The knocking continued.

Your door wasn’t locked.
It seemed it wouldn’t stop until it heard your answer.