Won

Were let out a guttural roar that shook the earth, his muscles tensing as fury overtook him. "Very well," he growled, his voice deep and resonant. "I'll show you the power of true dominance!" He waved his clawed hand, His eyes burned with an intense golden glow, and the ground beneath him responded to his will. Jagged platforms erupted, creating stepping stones for the other werewolves to leap onto.

With savage howls, the werewolves sprang from platform to platform, leaping through the air as they closed in on the witches. Their glowing eyes burned with primal fury, their claws eager to tear into flesh. Above them, the witches retaliated with arcs of crackling energy and bursts of light, illuminating the battlefield in chaotic flashes.

Were was a blur, using his platforms to propel himself like a missile toward his airborne foes. Each leap carried the force of a storm, his sheer presence disrupting the witches spells. One witch, too focused on deflecting another attacker, barely had time to scream before Were was upon her.

"You'll fall like the rest" he growled.

With a single brutal swipe, his claws tore through her chest, ripping out her heart in a wet, grisly burst. Her lifeless body tumbled from the sky, vanishing into the darkness below. Without pausing, Were launched himself at the next witch, his bloodstained claws outstretched.

The witch shrieked and jerked her broom sideways, narrowly avoiding his lethal strike. "Focus your fire on him!" she shouted.

The witches quickly gathered, their chants rising in eerie unison. Symbols of glowing power materialized in the air, pulsating with an unnatural light. In an instant, a barrage of energy bolts streaked toward Were, each one burning with lethal intent.

Were roared, slamming his claws into the earth. The ground responded, surging upward to form a thick stone barrier. The energy bolts struck with explosive force, sending rock shards flying in every direction. As the dust settled, Were emerged unscathed, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

His feral grin widened. "Is that all?"

A witch in a flowing crimson cloak raised her hands, summoning a spiraling inferno. Flames roared toward him, their heat searing the air. Were didn't flinch. He drove his claws into the ground once more, pulling up another wall of stone. The fire crashed into it, melting the rock into molten fragments that rained down like fiery embers.

Then, with terrifying speed, Were burst through the smoldering rubble.

Before the witch could react, he was already upon her. His claws lashed out, but she twisted her broom at the last second, spiraling upward in a desperate dodge. A triumphant smirk flickered across her lips until Were hurled a jagged spike of earth straight into her path.

The impact sent her reeling, her broom spinning wildly. She barely had time to recover before Were seized her by the face.

"Mmh!!-Crack!!"

Her muffled screams barely lasted a second. With a sickening "crack", he clenched his claws, crushing her skull in a gruesome burst of blood and bone.

He let the lifeless body drop, his glowing eyes scanning the battlefield. Then, with a dark chuckle, he raised his dripping claws and growled menacingly

"Who's next?"

________

Robin Hood crouched at the treeline, an arrow already nocked as he scan the battlefield. What he saw made him mutter under his breath.

"What In the actual fuck?"

Above them, 'Were' stood like a warlord, summoning jagged platforms from the earth, his glowing eyes burning with fury. The werewolves used them to leap into the air, claws slashing at the witches who fought back with crackling energy and bursts of eerie light. The battlefield was a chaotic storm of magic, fangs, and fury.

Grrr!!

Before Robin could take in more, a deep growl to his right snapped his focus back.

"Eyes up!" Will, one of the merryman warned.

The werewolves had noticed them.

With bloodied fangs bared, a pack of them lunged from the shadows, claws gleaming under the moonlight. Robin barely had time to roll aside before one of them crashed where he had stood, its claws carving deep furrows into the dirt.

"Loose arrows!" he shouted.

A volley of silver-tipped arrows sliced through the air. Some found their mark, striking werewolves mid-leap, sending them tumbling with pained howls. Others deflected the shots with raw speed, dodging the deadly rain.

Little John swung his massive hammer, intercepting a charging werewolf and sending it flying into a nearby tree with a sickening crunch. Alan fired his crossbow, a bolt piercing straight through a beast's eye. Will danced through the chaos, twin swords flashing as he severed limbs and throats in a deadly rhythm.

Still, the werewolves kept coming.

One pounced at Robin, jaws snapping. He ducked, flipping his dagger into a reverse grip before driving it upward into the beast's ribs. With a snarl, he twisted the blade, feeling the satisfying crack of bone before kicking the dying creature off.

"We need to move!" Much shouted, hacking down another attacker with his axe.

Robin didn't need to be told twice. "Push forward! Get to Desmond!"

They cut their way through, arrows and steel carving a bloody path toward their target.

_____

Desmond leaned against a stone, blood dripping from his wounds as he watched the battlefield in chaos. His breaths were heavy, but his sharp gaze missed nothing.

TWANG! TWANG!

Silver-tipped arrows whistled through the air, striking down the werewolves mid-leap. Each hit was precise, Werewolves shrieked as the projectiles found their mark, sending several plummeting to the ground.

Desmond's eye turned sharply, narrowing toward the treeline. From the shadows, a group of mercenaries emerged, their rugged armor glinting in the dim light. At the front of the pack stood a familiar figure—one Desmond knew all too well.

Robin Hood smirked, lowering his bow.

"Tsk, silver arrow tips are expensive, you know. You better pay up, Desmond," he called out.

Desmond let out a hoarse laugh, wincing as he felt his limping arms. "Robin, you're always late."

Robin shrugged. "I've been evacuating villagers." He scanned the battlefield and frowned. "You're really battered, huh?"

"Yeah." Desmond exhaled. "Hey, do me a favor. Get your men to help Adam and Gaston." He nodded toward two fallen figures nearby.

Robin raised a brow. "And what about you?"

Desmond smirked. "I watch the show a little longer."

Robin rolled his eyes but gestured to his men, who rushed off to assist the injured before diving back into the fray. Meanwhile, Robin turned his gaze back toward the raging battle, gripping his bow as he prepared to rejoin the fight.

_______

Back to the Battle

As Were stood tall against the witches, one of them, a woman with raven-black hair who had just witnessed her companion's brutal death, let out a furious shriek. Her hands trembled with rage as she reached into a satchel and pulled out a small leather pouch. With a swift motion, she tossed it into the air, her free hand glowing with green energy as she chanted, "Quinnas revelare!"

BOOM!

The pouch burst midair, releasing a shimmering cloud of green powder that sparkled ominously in the dim light. Like a toxic mist, it drifted downward, settling upon the werewolves below. As soon as the powder touched their fur, they coughed violently, their snarls turning into pained whimpers. Their limbs wavered, strength draining from their bodies as they stumbled and collapsed, clawing desperately at their throats.

Were's nose wrinkled as the familiar, bitter scent of wolfsbane reached him. His expression twisted in disgust. "Cowards," he spat. "Hiding behind poison and tricks!"

The black-haired witch cackled as she swooped lower on her broom. "Anything for my sisters."

"You think wolfsbane will stop me?!" Were roared, his glowing eyes narrowing as his muscles bulged. Defying the effects of the poison, he slammed his fists into the ground, sending a shockwave that splintered the earth. The ground ruptured violently, throwing the witches off balance as they struggled to maintain control.

"Bind him!" one of the witches screamed, weaving glowing runes in the air. Chains of dark green energy materialized around Were's limbs, tightening with every passing second.

Were roared in defiance, his muscles bulging as he fought against the restraints. With a deafening cry, he flexed his arms and shattered the chains, shards of magic scattering like glass.

But the witches weren't deterred. More of them joined the fray, conjuring dark green vines laced with silver powder and wolfsbane. They lashed out at Were, their enchanted tendrils slashing through the air.

Were dodged most of them, but some managed to graze his skin. The silver dust prevented his wounds from closing, while the wolfsbane seeped into his bloodstream, attacking him from within. He staggered slightly, his breaths coming heavier. The strain was evident, his movements slowed.

The witches seized their chance. Their voices harmonized into an eerie chant as a barrage of magical projectiles rained down upon Were.

"I'm not done yet,"Were growled, baring his fangs. His golden eyes flickered toward Desmond, burning with unspoken fury. "This isn't over."

Gathering his remaining strength, he slammed his hands into the ground. The jagged stone platforms he had created suddenly cracked and crumbled. With a final howl, he leaped back, retreating into the forest.

Shocked, some of the witches reacted instinctively, raising magical barriers or blasting away incoming debris to protect themselves.

"Oh no, you don't,"the lead witch hissed, her staff glowing as green vines erupted from the earth, surging toward Were. Lightning spells followed, crackling through the air.

Before they could strike, other werewolves, ones who had managed to avoid the wolfsbane charged forward, throwing themselves in the path of the attacks. Their bodies absorbed the brunt of the spells, their sacrifices creating an opening for Were to escape.

"Coward!" one of the witches seethed, her hands trembling with fury.

"Should we pursue him?" asked another, hovering uncertainly on her broom.

The lead witch exhaled, shaking her head. "No. Let him go. He's too dangerous to chase in his own territory."

The battlefield grew eerily quiet, save for the groans of the wounded and the faint rustling of the trees. Desmond, bloodied and exhausted, let out a weak chuckle. "Heh. We won... barely."

Robin, standing nearby with his bow lowered, surveyed the scene grimly. "We've got a lot of cleaning up to do."

The witches and mercenaries exchanged wary glances. For now, the village was safe, but peace was far from over.