Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint-Chapter 516: Time of Dogs and Wolves (4)

"Kill them!"

"Wolf bastards!"

"Awooooooo!"

"Woof! Woof!"

With Grull's massacre as the catalyst, a battle erupted between the Beast Faction and the wolves. Seasoned warriors grouped together in threes and fours, watching each other's backs. Their attacks, imbued with qi, wounded the wolves and forced them back.

They had brought carefully selected elites—wolves wouldn’t take them down so easily. With layered leather reinforcing their gauntlets, they clamped shut the wolves' jaws, then cracked their skulls open with sharp daggers or hammers.

While the Beast Faction warriors drove back the wolves, Grull was carrying out a massacre all on his own.

"Sal Baramah... Urk!"

The twin swords in Grull's hands tore through the priest's flesh. The qi-infused blades sliced through muscle like tofu and carved through bone like cucumbers. As he diagonally cut through the ribs of one priest, Grull was already searching for his next prey, carefully selecting his footing. His feet slid far across the ground.

Ground-Skimming Step.

His figure vanished in an instant. At the same time, another priest, in the midst of invoking his god, suddenly found a blade rammed down his throat. The cold dagger was not the deity he had been calling upon, but it was more than enough to take his life.

"What kind of nerve did you even have? Worthless wretches..."

It hadn't even taken a full minute to slaughter the priests and their entourage. As Grull flicked the blood off his blades, a voice reached his ears.

"...So, you really are a Master. You're strong. To think a beastkin could reach such heights..."

But they were all dead. Weren’t they? Grull flinched and turned around. A few steps away, the severed head of a priest was still moving its lips, speaking.

"A puppet curse? So your real body is elsewhere, and you just linked your consciousness here. I should've known—there's no way you cowards would show up before me in person."

"Khh, heh heh. That’s not all."

Grull stomped forward and crushed the head beneath his °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° boot, but the priest’s consciousness had already relocated elsewhere. Grull scanned his surroundings, warily eyeing the bodies of the priests he had killed in an instant. Something was wrong. He could sense a foreboding presence from corpses that should have been long dead.

"You mad bastard... Were all twenty of them just your puppets from the start?!"

"Puppets, yes. And sacrifices. They willingly gave their lives... to teach a beast like you its proper place."

The blood on his body clung to him unnaturally. It felt like insects were crawling over his skin. An unsettling sensation prickled through his fur, and Grull shouted urgently toward his subordinates.

"You lot! Fall back! Don't step in the blood!"

"Blood must be met with blood. Know your place, beast. ------."

A sound only beasts could hear. A scent only beasts could perceive. Piercing through their sharpest instincts, the ancient curse of Agartha was unleashed.

The Curse of Frenzy.

A curse spread through the blood of twenty sacrificed priests engulfed the Beast Faction warriors.

Qi techniques function as the barrier between oneself and the world. Those who master Heaven and Earth can preemptively block external influences, and those with control can regulate even the effects on their own flesh. When one reaches enlightenment, even the mind remains unclouded.

Grull, having reached enlightenment, only felt slightly irritated—more from sensing the reactions of his cursed subordinates than from the curse itself.

And that was enough.

The priest had never intended to target someone enlightened in the first place.

"Grrr...!"

"Khak, urgh! Mooo—!"

The acrid stench mixed into the blood, the shrill noise grating against their keen hearing, the sticky, clinging sensation of blood against their fur. The narrowing of their vision.

A beast’s heightened senses were also its curse. Already worked up from battle, the warriors of the Beast Faction were now snorting in distress, their breaths ragged.

"You goddamn bastards. I told you to stop just relying on your bodies and train your qi more! If you'd at least reached the first level of control, you'd be fine!"

"We're... fine, Chieftain! Thanks to the qi techniques you taught us, we can still distinguish friend from foe!"

"That’s exactly the problem! What good is recognizing allies if you can’t stop attacking?!"

As expected, the Beast Faction warriors were beginning to break formation. Enraged warriors swung their blades recklessly at the wolves before them.

Casualties mounted.

Grull covered as best he could with Ground-Skimming Step, but the scattered warriors were already starting to take hits from the wolves.

"Chieftain, should we retreat?"

"Are you seriously asking that?! Worry about how we’re going to retreat first!"

Curses had long been rendered obsolete by the advancement of qi techniques. Though the warriors of the Beast Faction varied in mastery, they had all trained in qi. Not all of them were affected, and they were still in positions to help each other.

For now.

If they scattered beyond the reach of his Ground-Skimming Step, they would be picked off one by one.

There was a solution.

A hard strike to the back of a frenzied warrior’s head could snap them out of it.

But doing that while fighting wolves meant actively crippling their own forces—exactly what the enemy wanted. He was caught between two losing choices.

And then—

A massive force of beastkin, numbering at least a thousand, came thundering toward him. They were surging through the path he had cleared earlier, a formation so tight it could be called the main force itself.

Normally, these forces wouldn’t be of much use in direct combat.

But now?

Their ropes and snares, meant for ensnaring foes, were perfect for subduing frenzied warriors.

Grull shouted in relief.

"Reinforcements?!"

"Ah, no! We're retreating!"

"What? Retreating?"

In war, subunits retreat to the main force—not the other way around.

No matter how strong Grull and his warriors were, the numbers and scale were on entirely different levels. If they were the ones retreating...

This wasn't a joke.

There were too many ram beastkin and ox beastkin, specialists in fortifications and traps, for it to be a bluff.

Grull demanded an answer.

"Retreating from who?!"

"From the canine beastkin! From the Baskerville family!"

Grull blinked in shock.

"...Baskerville?"

***

The Empire’s strongest watchdog family. The Baskerville family.

They had bred countless watchdogs, both from the main and branch families, and most of them were sold off as personal bodyguards for the highest ranks of the empire. From birth, they were trained in etiquette and discipline, taught qi techniques for hunting and guarding. Their popularity had never waned.

They possessed a hunting instinct and agility on a completely different level from ordinary canine beastkin. And their defining trait—the absolute loyalty that compelled them to lay down their lives for their master. Always upright, always vigilant, ever the steadfast guardian.

And now, those very same beings were slaughtering beastkin.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Sapien swung his spear shaft with great force. The Baskerville warrior twisted his body at the last moment, trying to deflect the blow. But Sapien was an Obelisk, one who had defended this city from beastkin time and time again. Adjusting his grip, he overpowered the Baskerville with sheer brute force.

The main force was useless. Against seasoned qi masters, traps and ropes were meaningless. The only ones who could fight were the Obelisks.

The enemy was also a master of qi, but Sapien was confident that his strength would be enough. That sliver of confidence made him shout:

"Obelisks! Maintain formation! The enemy is beastkin!"

The Obelisks were holding out better than expected. All those years of experience hadn’t been in vain. Surveying the battlefield, Sapien roared:

"Fight bravely! Will you let the beastkin defeat you twice?!"

"And what’s so wrong about losing to me?"

Sapien flinched and spun around.

Thud, thud.

Two Obelisks who had been following him were sent flying, blood spraying through the air. Beyond them, a Baskerville in a black suit had his gloved fist extended.

An Obelisk warrior quickly raised his shield to block the punch.

Boom!

The moment the glove-clad fist struck, ripples spread across the shield’s surface. Even though the shield had absorbed the impact, the force seeped through, shaking the Obelisk’s entire body.

As the Obelisk collapsed, blood dripping from his lips, a young woman with pointed ears twitched them playfully, smiling.

"Is it because we’re just dogs?"

It was then that Sapien realized the truth. The Obelisks weren’t holding out well.

The Baskervilles weren’t using weapons.

The only reason the Obelisks were still standing was because they were clad in armor. Otherwise, they would have been dropping like flies.

"Why the hell are the Baskervilles here?!"

"Oh dear. You recognize us. That means we can’t let you live."

Flames ignited in the Baskerville’s eyes. Blue fire trailed behind her as she lunged at Sapien.

He instinctively gripped his spear shaft with both hands and lifted it. His instincts barely kept up with the falling punch that streaked toward him like a meteor.

Clang!

The impact produced a deafening sound, impossible to believe from just a fist against metal.

'She’s not just fast... Her qi is stronger than mine!'

Sapien was blown back three meters, his arms trembling.

He had barely reacted in time—only because he had recently fought a master who had reached enlightenment.

Superimposing that memory over his opponent, Sapien’s face twisted in shock.

'At Grull’s level? Then... don’t tell me, has she reached enlightenment too?!'

"I wasn’t planning on leaving you alive anyway. Woof."

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A sleek, agile frame under the fitted suit. Hair cut neatly short. Pointed ears standing tall, an invisible tail behind her. Even while fighting, her posture remained impeccable.

But above all, those blue, flame-like eyes.

She was a Baskerville.

There was no time for nostalgia. Sapien demanded answers.

"Who ordered this? Did an imperial noble command you?!"

"A master? Woof. If I had one, do you think I’d be doing this?"

Despite exuding a deadly aura, the female Baskerville tilted her head with a forlorn expression, fiddling with her gloves.

"Woof. Would you like to be my master?"

"Don’t make me laugh! After killing so many Obelisks?!"

"If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I understand. I’ll just keep serving our king."

Then—she tilted her head, her ears twitching.

"So, where is the king of the traitor dogs?"

"You...!"

"Answer."

A foreboding chill crawled down Sapien’s spine.

He swung his spear, throwing his body sideways.

One attack was blocked, one was dodged, and one was deflected.

But one more slipped past.

The Baskerville braced against the ground and drove a powerful kick into Sapien’s abdomen.

His body was sent tumbling through the air, rolling across the ground.

The Baskerville was already upon him before he could rise.

A polished shoe crushed his throat.

The Baskerville leaned over, looking down at him.

"If you won’t answer, I’ll just ask the next person."

"Khh...!"

"Oh. Did I step too hard?"

Sapien gripped her ankle with both hands, as if trying to remove it.

The Baskerville bared her teeth in amusement.

"I like that you don’t give up. But... how pathetic."

But Sapien wasn’t struggling.

Flat on his back, his eyes saw a shadow falling from the sky.

Even though the approach was soundless, the Baskerville’s fur bristled on instinct.

Her head snapped up—

And she locked eyes with Shei, clutching a distorted space in her hand.

"Heavenly Sword Technique! Thunderbird!"

Lightning flared.

Shei, launching herself off a conjured storm cloud, descended like a bolt of lightning.

The power of Claudia’s thunder surged through her blade, unleashing a devastating strike.

The Baskerville warrior tried to retreat—but Sapien still clung to her ankle.

Using earth qi, he anchored himself to the ground, ensuring she couldn’t break free in time.

But she had faithful comrades.

"Blanca!"

"Look out!"

A watchdog’s duty is to protect.

Even if it meant sacrificing themselves for their kin.

Sensing the incoming attack, two Baskervilles threw themselves into its path.

Shei’s blade engulfed all three.

Thunder roared.

Fur burned.

Blood ignited.

The lightning-forged blade pierced through their defenses, cutting down two lives.

"Blanca Baskerville. So, you finally showed yourself."

The survivor had no time to mourn.

Instead, she stared at the newcomer.

A boy who seemed to recognize her, radiating hostility.

"...You’re strong."

Her moment of carelessness had cost two of her kin.

Blanca steadied her emotions, adjusting her gloves.

She didn’t show her anger.

Only her eyes smoldered.

And then—she uttered the customary words of a Baskerville.

"Would you like to be my master?"

Despite the unexpected offer, Shei didn’t flinch.

This wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words.

She scoffed.

"I’ll be your master. Now why don’t you bite your tongue and die?"

"So you want us gone, after all."

"Gone? I wish you’d disappear faster."

"Woof. That can’t be helped, then. In that case—"

Blanca gripped her gloves tightly.

And then—the transformation began.

Her fingernails lengthened, piercing through the gloves.

Thicker and sharper than fingers, they resembled claws.

With a deep growl, Blanca unleashed a spectral, blue aura.

"We’ll just have to become wolves."