As a wizard who understood werewolves better than most, John immediately noticed that this one was different from the rest.
The most obvious difference was its fur. Most werewolves had short coats, but this one had long, silvery hair.
"Roar!"
The werewolf lunged at John. He dodged, sword in hand, ready to strike.
But just before the blade fell, John caught sight of its eyes.
Beneath the tangled silver fur, those eyes were filled with pain and torment.
That single glance made John shift his sword aside.
The blade sliced through the trailing fur instead, scattering a spray of silver strands.
"Awooo—!"
The werewolf kept coming relentlessly. John lifted his left hand and swept it through the air.
A wooden post transformed into a rope that lashed around the werewolf, binding it in place.
John studied the creature closely. "This werewolf is… off."
As he stepped closer, it still thrashed and snapped at him.
He evaded its bite, but its teeth tore through his sleeve.
Seeing this, John raised his sword.
"Stop!"
An elderly figure, stumbling and scrambling, rushed over and threw himself in front of John.
John didn't lower his blade. His gaze locked on the man.
Even with the werewolf behind him snapping and thrashing to bite, the old man refused to move aside.
If not for John's rope holding the beast back at just the right distance, the old man's throat would already have been torn open.
"Village chief?" John said with a half-smile, half-sneer. "That's rather underhanded of you."
"No wonder you didn't want me dealing with the werewolf. This thing ...she's yours, isn't she?"
"My lord, I beg you, don't harm her." The chief pleaded desperately, his voice breaking. "I'll pay you whatever reward you want, just spare her."
"On the night of the full moon, she has no reason left," John's expression went cold, his tone colder still. "Keeping her in the village—you want the whole place destroyed?"
The chief dropped to his knees, weeping bitterly. "I know… I know she's dangerous now. But she's my daughter. I can't—"
"Your daughter?" John said flatly. "You do wear your fatherly love on your sleeve."
His voice was calm, but it carried the bite of mockery.
And this was in the middle of the village.
A werewolf out of control had the strength to tear a human body apart with ease.
The villagers weren't Hagrid—facing a werewolf meant almost certain death.
The chief might speak of doing it for his daughter, but what about everyone else?
John fixed his gaze on the chief's paling face, his tone calm and flat as still water. "Give me one reason to spare her."
This was a trial. John had no intention of failing.
So he didn't lower his sword. He simply waited for an explanation.
The village chief hesitated for a long time, but under the edge of the blade, he finally revealed the truth.
"My daughter… she caught the eye of the Wolf magician. It was that person's curse that turned her into this."
Speaking of it, the chief's face twisted in anguish.
Half a year ago, he had taken in a traveler.
The man was handsome, generous, and charming.
He claimed to be a merchant, and stayed in the village for a month. During that time, the chief's daughter, Pekel, developed feelings for him.
But one night, the traveler went out and never returned.
Worried something had happened to him, Pekel went to search. That was when disaster struck.
Pekel found the traveler in a stretch of marshland.
He was there, savagely tearing open the throat of a deer that had strayed into the swamp.
The monstrous sight terrified her.
The creature noticed her, and by the time Pekel returned home, she was stained with blood and dazed, barely conscious of herself.
Three days later, the traveler came back to the chief's house.
He declared his intentions, saying he wished to take Pekel away with him.
But when Pekel saw him, it was as if she were staring at the devil himself. She screamed and refused to step outside.
Realizing something was wrong, the chief drove the traveler off with curses and insults.
The traveler left with a dark expression, but before going, he uttered a curse.
"Every full moon, your daughter will become a bloodthirsty beast. You'd best let me take her away."
The chief hadn't taken it seriously, but when the next full moon came, he was jolted awake by a wolf's howl.
The night was dark, and he caught a flash of gleaming green eyes.
Fearing for his daughter, he rushed to her room, only to find it empty.
By the next day, when he finally found her, he saw a dead villager—and his daughter lying beside the body.
He was terrified, because that villager looked as though they had been torn apart by a wild beast.
The chief hurriedly carried his daughter back home, but before he could do anything to cover it up, the villager's death was discovered.
At first, everyone assumed it was the work of a beast from the mountains. But as time went on, with every full moon, another villager turned up dead.
The howls of wolves sent chills down their spines, and the villagers began to realize there was a werewolf among them.
To keep the secret, the chief locked his daughter inside the house.
When Pekel awoke, she was half-mad, begging her father over and over to kill the monster she had become.
Helpless, the chief could only bind her. Aside from mealtimes, she was never allowed to leave her room.
Yet every full moon, she still managed to break free and attack.
"My lord, my daughter—she's the victim. It's all because of that wolf wizard," the chief said bitterly.
He thought such words might earn John's sympathy.
But when he looked at John, all he saw was a face betraying no emotion at all.
"So, you did all this to protect your daughter?" John asked.
"Yes, my lord." The chief nodded frantically.
…
Meanwhile, somewhere beyond John's sight.
Inside the mountain castle, his uncles were watching the spring.
Aleksei sighed. "Didn't expect the first trial to be the Heart of the Werewolf."
The so-called dream trial was nothing less than the myriad faces of the human heart.
The choices one made during the trial determined the kind of power they would gain.
They had all gone through it themselves. Though each man's trial had been different, there were certain overlaps.
This one, for instance—the Heart of the Werewolf.
Aleksei himself had once faced such a test.
The spring was like a mirror, showing the choice John now stood before.
Seryozha glanced at Aleksei and asked curiously, "And what did you choose back then?"
Aleksei paused to think, then replied, "I killed the wolf wizard. He was the source of all evil. The village chief and his daughter were just pitiful souls caught up in it."
The other brothers fell into thought. In their place, they too would have chosen to kill the wolf wizard.
After all, the wolf wizard was the root of the calamity, the embodiment of evil.
…
"And the villagers?"
"What?"
The village chief clearly hadn't expected John to ask that, and froze for a moment.
John fixed him with a steady gaze and asked, enunciating each word, "You wanted to protect your daughter. But what about the villagers who died?"
The chief stammered, "M-my daughter, she had no choice in the matter…"
"You weren't without a choice," John said calmly. "You could have taken her into the mountains, away from people."
"That—how could I do that?" the chief reflexively protested.
John replied, "Was it that you couldn't give up power, or the money you were pocketing?"
From Parker, John had learned that the villagers, desperate to be rid of the werewolf, had each contributed money to the chief as bounty.
And since no one had ever managed to kill the werewolf, that money had simply sat in the chief's home.
Left speechless by the accusation, the chief could only tremble as John continued: "Heh~ The wolf wizard harmed your daughter, yet you didn't seek revenge. Instead, you tolerated the werewolf legend and used it as an excuse to line your pockets."
John lowered his sword until the blade pressed against the chief's neck, making his whole body shake.
The man opened his mouth to argue, but the icy look in John's eyes forced the words back down his throat.
"Tell me. Where is the wolf wizard?"
The chief finally answered, "He… he has a lair in the marshes. Around this time, animals are always found dead there."
It seemed the wolf wizard had not given up on the chief's daughter.
John motioned for the village chief to step aside, his eyes fixed on the werewolf.
The creature gradually quieted, and John rubbed his chin. "This one looks… unusual."
The girl hadn't fully transformed into a werewolf. Perhaps something had happened the night she was bitten.
After observing for a while, John used a Summoning Charm to bring over a large stone.
Circling behind the struggling werewolf, he aimed at the back of its head and brought the rock crashing down.
A deafening crack rang out, followed by the thud of the werewolf collapsing and the stone shattering.
"Pekel!" the chief wailed in anguish.
John considered for a moment, then drew his wand and leveled it at the man.
A flash of red light struck the chief, and he crumpled to the ground.
Perhaps the commotion had been too loud—Parker, trembling inside his house, cracked the door open just a sliver.
John dragged both the werewolf and the unconscious chief toward his home, sending Parker into a panic as he fumbled to bar the door.
The door was kicked open in one blow. John tossed the chief inside.
"Watch him."
Leaving Parker with that curt command, John dragged the werewolf out of the village.
A long trail was carved into the snow behind them. Parker wiped sweat from his brow, glanced down at the unconscious chief, and looked utterly ready to burst into tears.
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