Chapter 31: The Griffin Knight

"Then we could still go look, couldn't we? Just follow the clues?" Glen suggested next.

"Hmph…" The Old Man let out a cold laugh. "That vicious, cunning bastard has surely left a nasty 'present' waiting for us back at the original spot. Going there now would be nothing but trouble for ourselves."

He knows his enemy well… seems like a serious grudge indeed. Glen shrugged, signaling he'd go along with whatever.

"Let's head back. This journey ends here." The Old Man stowed his shotgun, his voice flat.

Whether it was an illusion or not, Glen felt the Old Man now resembled more a lonely, solitary elder than the coldly decisive hunter-warrior of moments before.

Just as they turned to leave, Glen's peripheral vision caught a massive creature streaking toward them from the side of the sky.

"Old Man, what's that?" Glen prodded the burly hunter beside him.

The Old Man looked up, his face instantly darkening. "That damned bastard! He actually drew the Griffin Knights here!"

"Griffin Knights?" Glen frowned. "What now? Fight?"

"Fight? Whether you win or lose, you'll be hounded relentlessly afterward! Find a place to hide, quick! If they see our faces, we're finished! They'll track down where we live faster than you can blink! Say goodbye to any semblance of a normal life!" For the first time, the Old Man displayed unmistakable panic, clearly terrified of being seen by these so-called Griffin Knights.

"Simple enough." Glen's body swelled instantly, transforming into a powerfully built black werewolf. His voice rumbled like a demon's growl. "I'll hold them off. You slip away."

"Are you sure?" the Old Man asked seriously.

"I don't do things I'm not sure about." Glen's tone brimmed with confidence.

"Fine then, you cocky brat. If you die, I'll mourn you. If you succeed… twenty silver coins." With that, the Old Man whirled around and plunged into the dense forest.

Twenty silver coins? That's about the price of one of my pigs… Glen's gaze locked onto the rapidly approaching griffin. Dropping onto all fours, he exploded toward it.

The griffin was enormous. Three figures sat astride its broad back. Their forms were slender, encased in form-fitting silver armor that accentuated their striking figures. Three female knights.

"Captain, is all this really necessary? It's probably just another false lead sent by those black mages to stir up trouble. Could be a trap waiting for us?" A dark-haired knight with brown eyes spoke to the serious-looking knight seated in front, her deep brown hair tied in a high ponytail.

"You know traps mean nothing to us, Aisha," replied the ponytailed knight, her voice calm. "We've dealt with them countless times. Hardly any trap escapes our notice these days."

"That's true…"

Screeeech!

Suddenly, the griffin let out a piercing shriek of alarm! The Captain's eyes snapped into sharp focus, scanning the ground below.

The lush canopy rustled violently. Something was tearing through the forest at incredible speed, heading straight for their position.

"Alert! Defensive stance!" the Captain shouted. But before they could fully prepare, a thunderous crash erupted from below. A black shape burst from the treetops and slammed bodily into the griffin's chest.

The impact jolted the massive creature, disrupting its balance just enough. It was sufficient to dislodge the three riders from its back.

As they plummeted, the experienced knights instantly channeled protective knightly aura around their bodies, bracing for impact.

CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!

They hit the earth with tremendous force, accelerated by gravity, carving three deep craters into the ground and flattening swathes of vegetation.

"Did anyone see what it was?" the female Captain demanded, sword drawn, her eyes sweeping the surroundings.

"No."

"Didn't catch it…"

Both knights shook their heads.

They didn't need to wonder for long. The culprit strode boldly out of the tree line, revealing his werewolf form to the three knights.

"Female knights?" His voice remained a deep growl, tinged with surprise. Damn… that waist… those legs… incredible figures. Are all female knights like this?

"A werewolf?!"

"It can talk?!!"

The knights' shock eclipsed Glen's. They'd never encountered a werewolf capable of coherent speech after transforming.

Werewolves can't talk? Huh… now that I think about it, I couldn't speak my first time either. Only managed it by manipulating the Wolf Toxin vibrations in my throat… Glen felt a flicker of confusion at their reaction, then understanding dawned.

"Level Three werewolf? And it speaks? A special case, it seems." The Captain identified Glen's level based on some unknown characteristic, sounding quite certain. She suddenly called out loudly to him, "Hey! Mister Werewolf! Bold of you to deliberately provoke Griffin Knights…"

"Can't I just want to experience your knightly swordsmanship?" Glen retorted.

"Hmph!" The Captain snorted heavily. "To become a Level Three werewolf… you must have feasted on plenty of humans?!"

"I don't do disgusting things like that," Glen shot back, rolling his eyes.

"We'll see about that." The Captain's aura surged violently. She addressed her companions behind her, "Sisters, stay back. Let me teach this ignorant abomination a lesson."

Watching the tall, long-legged knight point her sword at him, radiating a razor-sharp aura, Glen felt a surge of pure excitement. It was the common affliction of martial artists.

He slashed his claws sideways through the air beside him. A section of wood, thick as a rice bowl, was cleanly severed from a nearby tree. He caught it firmly in his furred hand.

The Captain, poised to charge, saw this and almost laughed incredulously. "You plan to face my knight's blade with a stick?! Truly a deranged monster!"

With that, she transformed into a streak of light, her sword thrust aimed straight at Glen's throat!

Facing the rapidly expanding point of her sword aura, Glen didn't blink. His wooden staff whirled. He sidestepped, avoiding the direct thrust, while simultaneously flipping the staff behind his back and jabbing it sharply toward the knight's wrist!

The knightly charge looked devastating, but its true killing power was concentrated dead ahead. The side flashes of light were mere distractions, impressive but useless for actual harm.

The force jolting her wrist nearly made the Captain lose her grip. Only her two-handed hold and rigorous training saved her from committing the cardinal knightly sin: never lose your sword in battle.

Her long left leg stomped down hard in a wide stride, arresting her forward momentum instantly. She pivoted, transforming her thrust into a vicious horizontal slash.

Glen was ready. His staff traced a circular arc upward, striking the flat of her blade with a heavy crack. He twisted his body simultaneously, his foot snapping out to connect solidly with the Captain's abdomen!

The Captain gasped in pain as the kick sent her flying backward. She slammed into a thick tree trunk before sliding down.

"Captain!" the other two knights cried out, moving to assist, but the Captain raised a hand sharply.

"I'm fine." She touched her stomach. The kick hadn't even breached her protective aura. How could it injure her?

"Your moves are full of openings, Lady Knight," Glen stated, remaining where he stood, not pursuing. A low chuckle escaped him.