As the Werewolf Leader's corpse fell—its upper and lower halves dropping to separate places—the remaining Werewolves attacked Rei all at once.
"Heh."
He'd assumed that with the Werewolf Leader dead, they would simply flee. The fact that they didn't caught him somewhat by surprise.
Of course, being surprised didn't mean he intended to just stand there and take their attacks. He intercepted each one with Twin Spear Style—Death Scythe in his right hand, the Twilight Spear in his left.
That he'd been able to wield Twin Spear Style reasonably well even against the Werewolf Leader was likely because he had grasped something like a feel for it.
Movements that had been impossible before now came naturally. His body simply knew how to move.
By surrendering himself to that internal flow and riding the current, his Twin Spear Style had undoubtedly improved—not just compared to before, but even compared to a few hours ago.
Of course, becoming aware of that flow-like sensation didn't mean he had completely mastered Twin Spear Style.
What he could do was, at best, a matter of degree. He had improved somewhat. If he had to put it into words, it was like going from a beginner to a beginner-intermediate.
That many steps still remained above him was something Rei himself understood perfectly well.
He dodged, deflected, and blocked the attacking Werewolves' strikes—then transitioned into offense.
He deflected a claw strike with the Twilight Spear's tip and swung Death Scythe, bisecting bodies in a single stroke.
One after another, Rei's attacks reaped the lives of the Werewolves that had charged him to avenge their fallen Leader.
As if to say that harvesting Werewolf lives was no difficult matter—fitting for the one who wielded Death Scythe, the Grim Reaper's Great Scythe.
(Or maybe it's not about revenge? If they defeat the one who killed their Leader, they can take command of the pack themselves... something like that?)
Even as the thought crossed his mind, Death Scythe slashed effortlessly through a Werewolf, and the Twilight Spear crushed another's skull.
Before he knew it, only two Werewolves remained.
They were the same two that had hung back while the rest charged Rei—the ones who had calmly judged, upon seeing him dispatch the Werewolf Leader with ease, that they stood no chance.
By Werewolf standards, they were cowards and spineless weaklings. But that very cowardice was precisely what had kept them alive, spared from Rei's swinging Death Scythe and Twilight Spear.
"...So, what are you two going to do?"
Rei knew the words wouldn't get through, but he called out anyway, hoping they might just take the hint and run.
There was a chance they'd flee and go on to harm other humans, sure. But he judged that after being this overwhelmingly outmatched by a single human—though, strictly speaking, not a pure one—they wouldn't dare attack humans again, no matter what. That was the bigger consideration.
Besides, though Rei couldn't understand it himself, Werewolves were capable of communicating with one another. If that was the case, word of human strength just might spread among them.
Naturally, the Werewolves couldn't comprehend what Rei was thinking. Even so, the fact that he—Death Scythe and Twilight Spear in hand—wasn't attacking them was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Rei swung Death Scythe wide in a threat.
Seeing that, the two Werewolves bolted immediately, vanishing into the depths of the grove.
"Well, there are all kinds of monster packs running rampant right now anyway. If you think about it that way, this much is no big deal. Plus, it saves me the trouble of dismantling and harvesting."
Rei had planned to commission the Guild for dismantling and harvesting once this job was done. Even so, the Misty Ring already held a wide variety of monster corpses.
Compared to that volume, two Werewolves were negligible.
Judging there was no need to fret over it, Rei glanced at the Werewolf corpses scattered across the area—including the Werewolf Leader's remains among them—then surveyed his surroundings.
The first thing that caught his eye was Vihera. She was fighting a Werewolf with a radiant smile, flushed with the thrill of battle.
Unlike the Werewolf Leader that had charged Rei, this one had gone after Vihera alongside its pack. Rather than commanding from the rear, it apparently had the kind of personality that drove it to spearhead the assault itself.
(Even among Werewolf Leaders, there's quite a variety... no, that's only natural, I suppose.)
If asked whether all humans shared the same personality, Rei would say no. By the same token, there was nothing strange about individual Werewolves and Werewolf Leaders having different temperaments.
Anyway, Vihera was enjoying herself, and that was what mattered. With that settled, Rei turned his gaze toward the Cyclops.
Of course, the Cyclops was already dead—killed by Set's strike—and Set now stood guard beside its corpse, keeping watch over the surroundings.
Set apparently had no intention of interfering with Vihera while she was having fun.
"Set aside... Vihera's side looks like it'll take a bit longer."
He muttered it to himself, but he had no intention of laying a finger on Vihera mid-battle. He understood perfectly well that if he did, she—someone who savored the act of combat itself—would be furious.
"Might as well get the minimum prep done in the meantime."
He lined up the two Werewolf corpses and the one Werewolf Leader corpse on the ground, then began storing the rest into the Misty Ring one after another.
"Only two Werewolf Leaders in the end, huh... Vihera!"
He wouldn't intervene in her fight, but calling out was another matter.
At the sound of Rei's voice, Vihera dodged a Werewolf's attack by a hair, drove her fist into its solar plexus, landed a clean counter, and then flicked her gaze his way.
Even then, she never fully took her eyes off her enemies. While focusing on any single target, she kept her awareness spread across the entire field. It was an essential skill for one-against-many combat, and naturally, Vihera had it.
Without breaking stride, she sidestepped a Werewolf's claw and hammered her fist into its elbow joint.
"Gyan!"
The Werewolf shrieked at the agony of its shattered elbow. Vihera seized the now-useless arm, swung the creature bodily into another enemy, and spoke.
"Got it. Werewolf Leader, right?"
Her tone was so relaxed it was hard to believe she stood in the middle of a furious battle.
To the Werewolf whose elbow she'd crushed—whose broken arm she'd grabbed and used to fling it into its own ally—Vihera was surely an incomprehensible existence.
In any case, Rei and Vihera had managed to exchange words.
Rei judged that calling out further would only annoy her, so he settled for observing the situation while extracting magic stones from the two Werewolf corpses.
Normally, doing such a thing with combat raging right nearby would be tantamount to suicide. But the pack fighting Vihera had tuned out everything else and made no move against Rei.
Whether that was because they lacked any sense of camaraderie despite acting as a pack, or because the Werewolf Leader among them was too absorbed in its own fight to care—whatever the reason, it was undeniably a help.
After pulling the magic stones from the Werewolves and the Werewolf Leader, he stored those three corpses into the Misty Ring as well.
By then, Vihera's battle was already nearing its end. Only the Werewolf Leader and three Werewolves remained alive.
Despite their ranks being so thinned, the Werewolf Leader still refused to accept defeat.
(The Lizardman Leader showed its belly and surrendered, though...)
The thought surfaced unbidden—and right at that moment, Vihera's kick connected square with the Werewolf Leader's torso.
She felt the ribs crack through the instep of her foot, withdrew her leg, and turned back toward the remaining Werewolves.
The Werewolf Leader, sent flying by the blow, sailed—naturally—straight toward Rei.
(Did she aim for that?)
The thought flickered through his mind as he looked down at the Werewolf Leader sprawled on the ground and raised the Twilight Spear.
"Gururu..."
Facing the descending spearpoint, the Werewolf Leader let out a short, low whine.
It was the creature's last sound. The Werewolf Leader's life flickered out.
"The others... fled, huh."
The remaining Werewolves, seeing their Leader fall, bolted at once.
Vihera had no intention of pursuing enemies who'd lost the will to fight. She silently watched the three retreat into the trees.
That left only Rei, Vihera, and Set—two people and one griffon.
"I enjoyed that more than I expected."
So Vihera said, but she didn't look remotely satisfied.
It was only natural. The Werewolf Leader was a High-ranking Species, true, but still just one step above a regular Werewolf.
Had it been something formidable like a General or a King, Vihera might have been satisfied to her core. This time, though, it was merely more enjoyable than anticipated—nothing more.
"Anyway, that completes the Werewolf pack subjugation from the request. All that's left is absorbing the magic stones and we're done?"
"Yeah. But we should store all the corpses first. I've already pulled the magic stones."
Rei muttered as he scanned the area.
The thick scent of Werewolf blood would undoubtedly draw in nearby monsters. This grove had been Werewolf territory, so the number of other monsters was probably limited. Even so, he had no desire to fight Goblins or anything else here.
(Well, it's not just Goblins—there's every chance other monsters are lurking nearby too.)
Still, if asked which monster had the highest reproductive capacity in Elgin, Rei would answer without hesitation: Goblins.
Individually, they were pitifully weak. But in exchange, they could breed with not only human females but also other monster females and even animal females.
Granted, since human women were easier to capture than other monsters or animals, they remained the primary subjects for Goblin reproduction.
"Right. Let's go, then."
Vihera clearly had no desire to fight Goblins right after dealing with Werewolves. She nodded immediately and set about helping Rei collect the Werewolf corpses she'd felled into his Misty Ring.
She didn't forget to store the headless Cyclops in the Misty Ring either, just to be safe.
Its body bore multiple Werewolf bite-and-tear marks, making it unsuitable as food. As for materials, the most valuable parts—the eyeball and horn—were already gone, so a high price was off the table. Still, as a reasonably high-rank monster, even a damaged Cyclops carcass would fetch a modest sum.
Once they'd finished collecting everything, Rei and Vihera mounted Set just as they had when they'd arrived—Rei on his back, Vihera clinging to his front leg—and departed.
Rei on the back was one thing, but for Vihera gripping the front leg, the timing was extremely tricky in a grove like this.
In open grassland, they could simply have Set take off first, then circle back down to a height where Vihera could reach up and grab on.
But in a grove where Set couldn't fly freely, she had to catch his front leg at the exact moment of takeoff.
Sure, if Set really pushed himself, he could fly up above the canopy and then dive to scoop Vihera up. But she had no interest in making him do that. After all, she was already asking Set—a griffon who normally let only Rei ride him—to go out of his way to carry her.
Timing her grip to Set's takeoff, the two people and one creature left the grove behind, its air still thick with the heavy, rust-like stench of blood.