Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 439 Rekindling the Fire
When Clayton's arms were freed, the first thing he did was to bend over and grab Lucas's wolf mouth, then use brute force to pull the upper and lower jaws apart.

One by one, the bent wolf fangs were pulled out from the bloody hole, and then Lucas' mouth was opened involuntarily, but the result was not just that. Soon the wolf kiss had been stretched to its limit in Clayton's hand, but it was still being expanded violently.

The skin at the corners of Lucas' mouth first turned white, then burst like crushed grapes, and blood plasma flowed out of the broken flesh.

Fortunately, Gerhardt and Sorodan rescued him in time and knocked Clayton over, otherwise Clayton would have torn his wolf face in half.

Clayton Bello climbed up from the ground while gasping for breath. The place had been mostly dyed red by their blood, and the corpses all over the ground looked like a picture of hell.

"I finally understand what's going on. You guys..." He laughed and raised a claw, pointing his sharp finger at them one by one.

Gerhardt, Sorodan, Lucas.

As his finger pointed, the tall Konglione werewolves subconsciously tilted their hairy bodies, as if that finger had magic power.

"... is an even more ignorant bastard than me!" Clayton shouted out his conclusion happily.

"I originally thought that any two of you could tie with me, and three of you could completely defeat me, but I didn't expect that I overestimated you."

"I can see that you are afraid of getting hurt, afraid of pain, and even more afraid of going crazy. So although your tactics are still the style of werewolves, your fighting methods have become like those of humans, always avoiding bloodshed. No wonder the assassins of the guards dared to attack me after mistaking me for one of yours."

"The bloodline you are so proud of has not made you unique at all. Now you can only be called a poor imitator!"

"Not a human, not a wolf, just like me!"

The yellow-eyed werewolf laughed wildly and pounced again. This time, it no longer considered how to contain and pull the opponent or create an environment for a one-on-one fight. Instead, it treated the three Konglione as opponents and fought madly.

There is almost no sophisticated technique involved, it's just pure "collision", continuous collision.

But the collision itself was powerful enough.

It doesn't care whether it will get hurt or its bones will be broken, so every swing of its arms and every kick it makes is done with all its strength. It is as if it is using its own bones to test the hardness of the enemy's bones, and it must destroy itself before destroying the enemy.

When Clayton approaches his enemies, the sound of bones popping can be heard frequently and clearly from their bodies.

His devastating offensive forced these weak fellows to retreat one after another.

"If you continue like this, you will die here," he roared, and the Conriotes remained silent.

Just by slightly raising his wrist, his opponents began to subconsciously prepare to dodge, which proved that what he said was not false. However, it was impossible for Kong Lione and others to solve this weakness in a short time. Maybe they would eliminate it in the future, but not today.

"If Macon were here..." Sorodan said with a rough breath unwillingly, but perhaps he himself did not notice that his tone was not so certain.

He was not sure whether his good brothers would be able to turn the tide by working together tacitly here, or whether they would die here together.

As if he had objections to Clayton's opinion, the werewolf Lance, who was staggering towards him, suddenly let out a roar and sped up on all fours.

Its attitude was completely different from its companions, and it rushed straight at Clayton, who did not avoid or retreat. The two werewolves collided with each other and slid a distance on the blood-stained ground in a wrestling posture. Their claws clasped each other's shoulders at the same time, and as they began to wrestle, they sank deeply into the flesh.

Blood flowed between the claws of the two werewolves, wetting their shiny black fur and further contaminating the ground. Most of it came from Lance and less from Clayton.

The werewolves of the Kongleone family looked at each other, then moved forward, wanting to help Lance subdue Clayton, but Lance was extremely sharp at this moment and immediately sensed their approach. He turned his hairy head to the back and growled fiercely, actually making a deterrent move towards his companions and leader.

Sorodan was furious and rushed forward to deal with the traitor first, but was stopped by Gerhardt.

Not only did he stop Sorodan, he also took a few steps back, looking at Clayton and Lance with a tired but meaningful look.

"Retreat."

Sorodan and Lucas were startled. Eliminating Edwards was a task directly assigned by the tribe leader, but he was still alive and well, and the newborn was also fighting with him. If they left at this time...

Although they had some doubts in their hearts, Gerhardt had already made the decision. Now was not the time for them to hesitate. They could only lower their heads and follow him as he turned and left quickly.

They came with high morale, but left with their tails between their legs, dejected and covered in wounds.

Clayton did not stop them. The pleasure these Konglione could bring him was almost gone, and he was no longer interested in them. However, the werewolf in front of him still had some value.

Seeing that the external factors that might disturb the duel had left, Lance turned back again. At this close moment, Clayton stared carefully into the eyes of the warrior. He wanted to see courage, perseverance, or some other good qualities, but he found nothing. In the eyes of the warrior, he only saw chaos and violence. He had never seen such eyes directly, but he knew who else had such eyes.

"Good! Good! Good! What a good werewolf!"

Clayton laughed, and he felt happier and happier, and his desire to destroy the other man became stronger and stronger.

Defeating such an opponent is more valuable than any of the previous ones.

"Maybe I should be hurt more, so that it's fair, but I'm sure you won't mind because you're such a guy." His hands got harder and harder, digging deeper into Lance's shoulders, and a similar chaotic color burned in his pupils:
"You're fearless, aren't you?"

The only response he got was roars, not words.

Clayton accepted the challenge.

The two pairs of strong arms pressed down on each other, and after a period of adjustment, their confrontation formed a delicate balance. Clayton and Lance pushed the ground with their hind legs, pushed their upper bodies forward, and fixed their postures with their heads against each other. The muscles of the two werewolves were exerting force, condensing into two sculptures.

They were in a stalemate, not retreating a single step. Only their muscles trembling at a high frequency and the wounds on their bodies that had been recovering but were now bursting and bleeding again proved that they were still fighting an intense battle.

Because of metal poisoning, every bone in Clayton's body was painful. His arms and legs were fractured and deformed from fighting the other three werewolves. Sweat squeezed out of every pore as he exerted force, and the broken wounds began to bleed again, but he felt extremely happy.

All his troubles and self-doubts vanished in his battle with the Conriones.

Clayton didn't know who he was, but at least he knew how to fight. No trouble could stump him. He would solve one problem after another and win again and again.

His opponent's injuries were less severe than his and he had more physical strength, but that didn't mean anything. He believed in his own strength and that he would defeat his opponent fairly, in the opponent's way.

The crisp sound of broken bones came from Clayton's body, and his right arm and left leg began to bend unnaturally, and his body tilted, but he exerted force regardless, causing the same sound and injuries to appear on the other party.

If he broke a bone, his opponent would break two; if he shed a pint of blood, his opponent would shed two pints.

And the furious Lance had the same plan.

They didn't retreat a single step, deciding to win or die in this position. If you close your eyes and listen, you can hear the sound of ice cracking spreading over them.

Lance finally gave in, at least his legs did.

He had to kneel on the ground with his broken beastly legs, with only his upper body still resisting stubbornly. His two claws were still pressing on Clayton's shoulders, even sinking deep into his flesh and blood, and the well-developed muscles from his chest to his waist and abdomen were still contracting and exerting force, but these efforts were of no avail.

Clayton pushed him down section by section.

Lance's bones were shattered from his calves to his hips. They all collapsed on the ground, but his upper body remained standing. The muscles in his chest and abdomen were cramping due to excessive exertion and were jumping irregularly.

Even at this moment, it looked up at Clayton's face, the rage and ferocity in its eyes still burning like flames.

This final stalemate lasted longer than the previous one, until an exceptionally loud and crisp sound came from Lance's back, his upper body bent backwards, and the broken spine completely declared his failure.

Clayton laughed silently as he pulled out the two claws that were stuck in his shoulders and kicked it out.

The twisted and shattered werewolf body rolled over and crashed into the corpses of the warehouse guards. Its broken limbs were still wriggling unwillingly, and its only intact tail became its most powerful limb.

This horrific injury is close to disability for a werewolf.

Even if Clayton didn't kill it next time, it would never be able to recover its fighting power in this lifetime.

Clayton happily opened his arms and walked back and forth several times, then turned a few more circles, wholeheartedly enjoying the smell of blood and the afterglow of victory. It was still late winter, but he felt that spring had arrived. The fatigue and boiling blood after the intense exercise made him satisfied, and he really wanted to find a safe cave to have a good sleep.

His good mood seemed to make his wounds heal faster.

The werewolves of the Conleone family were dealt with by Clayton, but this was not his main purpose. He still remembered that the purpose of his coming here was not completed, so after a short rest, he began to prepare the "gift" for the Sacred Heart Fraternity.

As for the defeated general, Clayton decided to leave him alone.

It had fought well, and the pleasure it had brought Clayton was worth sparing its life, but if the guards or the church arrived faster than Conlionet's reinforcements after he left, it would have nothing to do with him.

Next, it’s time for Wei Aodi’s allies to appear.