The first to leap at Rei was the smallest of the Werewolves.
It wasn't a sacrificial pawn sent to gauge Rei's strength—the creature simply had the ability to back up its boldness.
Its speed was entirely different from when it had been attacking the Cyclops. Not that it had been holding back before; the difference was purely in the size of the threat it faced. A Cyclops was one thing. Rei was another.
Prioritizing speed over raw power, the small Werewolf employed a strike-and-retreat tactic, launching itself at Rei. But...
"Not with that speed."
The Werewolf had tried to slash Rei apart with its claws, but the weapons in Rei's hands were Death Scythe and the Twilight Spear. Both were long-hafted weapons, giving Rei an overwhelming reach advantage over a claw strike.
From the Werewolf's perspective, it likely intended to slip beneath Rei's swing and close the distance. However, that was a move that could only be described as underestimating Rei's physical abilities.
Rei sharply thrust the Twilight Spear in his left hand. The Werewolf should have evaded with minimal movement and then closed the distance as the spear returned to guard. That was likely its intention—but only if it could actually react to the speed of Rei's thrust.
"Gyaf!"
The thrust exceeded the Werewolf's ability to react. The spearhead shattered its skull, and the impact forced a gurgling scream from its throat.
A fraction of a second later, the horizontal slash of Death Scythe severed the torso of the already headless Werewolf. Its body hit the ground at full running speed, the impact sending its upper and lower halves flying in opposite directions. Blood, organs, and bodily fluids sprayed across the surroundings from both cross-sections.
Watching the Werewolf's remains—remains was the only word for them—Rei's brow furrowed slightly. He had intended to unleash the Twilight Spear's thrust and Death Scythe's slash simultaneously, but his body had moved too wide on the initial thrust, delaying the scythe by a critical instant.
Against these Werewolves, that didn't matter. But against a more skilled opponent—someone like Vihera, for instance—that momentary gap could be exploited.
My Twin Spear Style still has a long way to go. That's exactly why I'm using these Werewolves for live combat training.
One real battle was worth ten days of practice—or so the saying went. Rei didn't swallow that old adage wholesale, regardless of the timeframe. Even so, he knew there were things you simply couldn't understand without actual combat, and even if it fell short of ten days' worth of drills, this was still valuable training.
That was why he'd chosen to fight the Werewolves with the Twin Spear Style. Another major reason he was using it—Death Scythe in particular—was because the Cyclops had been fighting the Werewolves here. The battle had snapped surrounding trees, creating enough space to swing the long-hafted weapon. Not every tree was gone, so he still couldn't swing entirely freely, but that was precisely the kind of constraint he'd face in real combat going forward. In that sense, this was ideal practice.
"Waooooon!"
The brief exchange had clearly taught the pack that Rei was not to be taken lightly. From the rear, the Werewolf Leader raised a long, piercing howl—a signal. At the sound, the Werewolves surged forward and attacked all at once.
They came with the agile movements characteristic of their kind, coordinating as a pack. Since no single Werewolf could match Rei, they intended to use their numbers and collective strengths to overwhelm him.
It wasn't a bad strategy. In fact, that same approach had kept the pack fighting on near-even terms with the Cyclops while taking casualties.
But Rei and the Cyclops were in entirely different classes.
The first Werewolf to attack hadn't been slow by any measure—if anything, its small frame had made it the fastest of the pack. And yet Rei's Twilight Spear had killed it in a single strike before it could even attempt to dodge. Speed alone clearly wasn't going to work against him.
"Whoa—take this!"
Werewolves closed in from literally every direction, including above. Rei dodged their attacks almost without shifting his stance, waiting for the instant their coordination faltered—that momentary gap a lesser fighter would never even notice—then swung Death Scythe. Any Werewolf whose timing lagged paid for the mistake with its life. Its torso was severed, and it crumpled, scattering blood, flesh, and organs across the forest floor.
Precision instruments are fragile. The analogy fit: because the Werewolves relied on intricate coordination, killing even one threw the whole rhythm off. Seeing their packmate cut down, the others didn't panic, but the disruption in their sync was undeniable. It lasted less than a second, but for Rei, that fraction of time was more than enough.
"Flying Slash!"
He unleashed the technique, seizing the initiative before the Werewolves pressing him could strike. The flying slash carved fatal wounds into their bodies. At the same moment, he hurled the Twilight Spear from his left hand, infusing it with magic.
The throw relied on arm strength alone, but the magic-charged spearhead punched clean through the torso of his target—and didn't stop. It pierced two more Werewolves behind it before embedding itself deep in a tree trunk. Even after passing through three bodies, the throw had barely lost momentum; the tip had sunk completely into the wood.
Normally, pulling a spear whose head was buried that deep in a trunk would be a serious effort. Doing it in the middle of a fight without exposing an opening was near-impossible.
But this was no ordinary spear. The Twilight Spear was a Magic Item—one Rei suspected ranked among the upper echelon of this world. For a weapon of that caliber, this was trivial. The next instant, the spear reappeared in his hand, returning to its master at his command.
Seeing multiple Werewolves slain or gravely wounded in the space of seconds, the pack's leader judged that continuing this way would devastate its ranks. The Werewolf Leader stepped out from behind its pack.
"Grrrrrrr!"
Whether enraged at seeing its subordinates and companions hurt or simply asserting dominance, the Werewolf Leader fixed Rei with a murderous growl. Any ordinary person would have flinched at the sound. But how many people would look at Rei and call him ordinary?
Still holding Death Scythe and the Twilight Spear in his Twin Spear Style stance, Rei used only his neck to push back his hood and flashed the Werewolf Leader a feral grin.
"What's wrong? Come on."
At the sight of Rei's face, the Werewolf Leader's charge faltered for a single step. But rather than pressing the attack, it drew back, keeping its distance and watching Rei carefully, as if sensing danger in his demeanor.
Hmm... Unexpected. I was sure it would lose its head and charge straight in once the fighting started. This is completely outside my expectations.
Simplicity was preferable in combat. But an enemy that sized him up and read his strength was actually convenient for Rei right now.
An opponent with moderate strength who doesn't underestimate me... In that sense, this one's the perfect sparring partner for Twin Spear Style practice.
The surrounding Werewolves made no move to intervene in the duel between their leader and Rei. They clearly believed their leader would win.
But the Werewolf Leader itself couldn't bring itself to act. Rei stood holding a scythe and a spear—weapons that appeared unwieldy at a glance. On paper, that should have made him an easy matchup for a creature that specialized in agility. Yet the Werewolf Leader couldn't find a single opening. An instinct screamed that the moment it lunged, it would be countered.
"Grrrrr."
It rumbled a warning from its throat. Neither moved. Minutes passed—but those minutes meant entirely different things to each of them. Rei was simply waiting. The Werewolf Leader was desperately searching for a weakness, and the mental strain was grinding it down.
If the Werewolf Leader had been a far more powerful monster, exploiting the gaps in Rei's still-imperfect Twin Spear Style might not have been so hard. Unfortunately, it wasn't strong enough. It couldn't find a single opening.
Every second wasted brought it closer to defeat—and defeat meant death. That realization only tightened the pressure, until finally the tension hit a breaking point. The Werewolf Leader kicked off the ground and charged.
It wasn't a calculated move. It simply couldn't endure the tension any longer. Leveraging a body larger than any normal Werewolf's, it barreled toward Rei, trying to bury claws that were sharper and larger than the rest of the pack's.
Rei met the charge with a grin, as if greeting a welcome sparring partner.
That first small Werewolf had been fast—faster than the others in the pack, no question. But the Werewolf Leader was a High-ranking Species. Despite its bulk, it was clearly swifter than anything Rei had faced so far. It closed the distance, caught between two choices: slash Rei's throat with its claws, or sink its fangs into him—an even deadlier weapon. Hesitating, it lunged—
"Gyan!"
Just as it was about to enter claw range, an unseen impact caught it mid-stride. A reflexive yelp tore from its throat. Even so, it managed to twist its body midair and land on its feet—a display of the leader's reflexes.
...Though the fact that Rei hadn't pressed the pursuit was the bigger reason.
"Grrr!?"
It had no idea what had just happened. The Werewolf Leader scanned its surroundings in confusion and saw Rei pulling the Twilight Spear back to his hand. Only then did it understand—it had been struck by the spear and sent flying. Casting an even warier gaze toward Rei, it began to circle again.
The first charge had been reckless, born of panic, and it had cost the leader a hit. This time, it would approach with caution. And mercifully—for both the Werewolf and Rei—the blow from the Twilight Spear had shattered the tension that had been paralyzing it.
"What's wrong? You're my practice partner, so move a little more convincingly. That's not your best, is it?"
"Grrr... Waooooon!"
The words were meaningless to it, but the tone wasn't. It understood mockery. The Werewolf Leader let out a battle cry, rallying itself, then kicked off the ground and lunged at Rei with even greater speed than before.
It didn't care if it took another hit. All that mattered was landing one of its own. With claws this sharp, a single solid strike should be enough to finish him.
In an instant, the Werewolf Leader was on Rei, driving a right-handed strike straight at his throat. Rather than swinging, it thrust its claws forward for maximum sharpness—a lunge aimed dead center.
The claws struck the extended Twilight Spear and skidded along its shaft, deflected off-course against the leader's will. The instant the attack slid harmlessly past, Death Scythe swept horizontally in Rei's right hand—and cut the Werewolf Leader's body clean in two.