Chapter 483: Volkov vs Noseratu

The world changed beyond what Nikolai could ever have imagined. He took a deep breath of the cool, refreshing air, which absorbed countless particles of light that spread through his body and energised him. What are these strange lights?

Nikolai couldn’t tell what they were, but each breath stimulated his three hearts, and the energy they produced flowed at least twice as fast, with double the density.

That’s when he caught his reflection in the glinting steel.

A huge black werewolf, shiny raven-black fur, long deformed claws with huge blades, his muscles thick and bulging with black veins. He also noticed the demon exposed from his torn pants, a weapon he must never use on a living woman.

Amazing… I feel so light, despite being huge.

“Hmph, a foolish dog getting excited over nothing special!” Killian’s bloody form stood from the sand before wiping himself off. He then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This action caused the air to stir, as if a storm’s wind spread from Killian’s body.

The crowd fell silent. Tens of thousands who had been screaming his name now gawked in awe and dread. The Black Wolf was no longer a man at all, but something primal, monstrous, divine. It wasn’t the first time they had seen a werewolf, but this was different… even from his father’s graceful form.

Nikolai’s Lupus Diabolous form was feral, violent and clearly the apex of monsters.

Each of his breaths shook the sand, sucking the very air from the arena. Black flames licked along his fur like restless shadows, twisting into wings of fire that snapped in the air, like a mythical beast from a fantasy movie.

His claws gleamed like obsidian blades, more ornate than the most well-crafted swords.

Even Killian’s crimson mist vanished upon contact, scattering into nothing.

Nikolai’s black eyes swept the stands. He saw everything. The twitch of a spectator’s hand as they gripped their cup, the flutter of a moth’s wings above the arena lights, the shifting of Killian’s aura as it churned like a whirlpool. The world slowed, each heartbeat of his three hearts striking like war drums, pumping rivers of power through his colossal frame.

“So this… is a Great Elder,” he growled in a much deeper voice.

The whirlpool of Killian started to take a tangible form as he snapped his head back towards Nikolai with a smile. He tugged his glove tighter and spread his arms wide, crimson energy spiralling around him.

“Did you think only werewolves could transform?”

“What!?”

Then, with his sharp claws, he cut himself.

Blood enveloped the great elder, the green murky blood different from before, thick and disgusting with a rotten stench. The wound pulsed like a beating heart. Mist exploded from the gash, expanding into a swirling vortex that swallowed his form whole.

The crowd gasped as the elegant noble’s silhouette warped inside the storm.

Bones cracked like snapping branches, his limbs elongated, and his smile widened into something sharp, cruel and inhuman.

The mist condensed, fusing with his body until crimson armour grew across his pale flesh, sculpted like a knight’s cuirass but alive, breathing. His fangs extended into sabres, his eyes glowed like molten coals. When the storm faded, the man who stood there was no longer Killian Fray.

Two large wings of blood formed at his back, almost matching the shadowflame wings of Nikolai, bubbling in a dull green.

It was the rebirth of the Scarlet Executioner.

Nikolai’s ears twitched, the black flames billowing as he sensed it for the first time. The monster’s strength… before this moment, he couldn’t grasp the old man’s power, which felt distorted and out of reach, like trying to see an item at the bottom of a murky river.

“Finally.”

The arena shook the moment both monsters stepped closer, their aura like an army of soldiers with blade and claw clashed in a storm that tore into the metal walls and gouged the sandy flooring.

The announcer’s voice cracked through the thunder of the crowd, barely heard over the roar of tens of thousands.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN—THE CLASH OF LEGENDS BEGINS! The Black Wolf of S-Kingdom versus the Scarlet Executioner of the Nosferatu Clan! Brute force versus elegance! Shadowy flames versus blood! This is what you’ve come for!”

Nikolai chuckled to himself at her professionalism.

Finally, they corrected it.

The horn for the round to restart sounded, while the people watching from the Silver Clan all watched with pale faces.

Currently, there wasn’t a great elder in their clan.

Since Ivan didn’t come, the clan took their revenge on his son… never expecting this.

That’s when the ground shook.

ChatGPT said:

Got it — we’ll keep the momentum rolling and stage this fight like a main-event clash. Both Killian and Nikolai should feel like titans at the peak of their power, with the announcer hyping them up, the crowd reacting, and the blows themselves described in brutal detail. I’ll aim for 500–600 words for this section, building a balance: Nikolai’s raw ferocity vs. Killian’s aristocratic precision and regeneration.

The announcer’s voice cracked through the thunder of the crowd, barely heard over the roar of tens of thousands.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN—THE CLASH OF LEGENDS BEGINS! The Black Wolf of Londis versus the Scarlet Executioner of the Nosferatu Clan! Brute force versus elegance! Shadowy flames versus blood mist! This fight is what you’ve come for!”

The horn blared again.

The ground shook.

Nikolai charged, his colossal frame ripping through the sand like a juggernaut. His steps cracked the arena floor, black flames tearing gouges into the steel walls as he swung a claw the size of a longsword.

Killian’s body became blurry. His wings snapped, propelling him like a crimson comet. The claw missed by a hair, carving through air and sand in an explosion that rattled the foundations. In return, Killian’s talons speared for Nikolai’s throat.

Clang!

Nikolai caught them in midair using his teeth, almost crunching through them. The impact exploded like colliding meteors, shockwaves ripping across the arena. The crowd gasped while gripping their seats, the force pinning them down as voices rose in a frenzy.

“Unbelievable! He stopped the Executioner’s killing strike head-on!”

Killian spat on the floor, hissing at the beast, and with a twist, his wings flowed and flapped outwards, propelling him in a twirling blur around Nikolai’s guard. His talons raked across the wolf’s ribs, cutting deep enough for blood to spray.

The crowd roared.

But the reaction shocked Killian.

Nikolai didn’t stagger or snarl; his bulging muscles flexed as the wounds knitted half-closed before Killian could recover. He swung with brutal ferocity, claws backhanding Killian across the pit. The vampire’s body smashed into the far wall, denting four of the five reinforced steel plates.

“Blood for blood!” the announcer howled. “That’s my future husband!!! The Black Wolf won’t be denied!”

He couldn’t help but glare at the crazy announcer, but in return, she flashed her chest at him… causing Nikolai to recoil and huff.

Those are some nice tits…

Killian’s laugh echoed as he rose, crimson armour already sealing the cracks in his ribs. His mist swirled, and in the blink of an eye, he reappeared behind Nikolai.

Bang!

A knee slammed into Nikolai’s spine. Before he could recover, claws shredded his shoulder, piercing through muscle. To avoid falling, Nikolai whipped around with a savage grin, his tail gripping the wall like an anchor, ignoring the pain of tearing his wounds open.

His jaws snapped forward and clamped down.

Crunch!

Fangs closed around Killian’s forearm, biting through crimson armour. The vampire shrieked as black flames poured into the wound, searing the flesh and with a yank, he tore off the vampire’s arm, then spat the meat out with a disgusted face.

“Disgusting…”

The crowd went insane.

Half roared Nikolai’s name, half screamed for Killian, which split the stadium in two.

“HE DREW BLOOD! The Executioner suffers a serious wound for the first time in decades!”

Killian ripped free, crimson mist hissing as it tried to cauterise the wound. His smile was still present, but anger ruined his aristocratic composure. “Savage cur… You think pain is enough to defeat me?”

His wings unfurled, blasting a storm of blood-mist across the arena. The crimson fog swallowed Nikolai whole, each particle sharp as razors. Flesh peeled from his arms, his chest, even his face as the arena became a bloodbath.

“…Vanish!”

Yet Nikolai’s roar cut through everything.

His black flames erupted from his throat, burning the blood into a hissing mist, clashing against the crimson storm like a hurricane.

Both monsters launched forward at once.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Claws and fangs collided in a flurry too fast for the human eye, the announcer’s voice struggling to keep up. “Speed—power—blood—flame! Neither will give an inch! Every blow could end it—this is a fight for the ages! BUT MY HUSBAND WILL PREVIAL!”

Nikolai’s brute force hammered Killian into the sand, but the vampire’s regeneration kept dragging him back, his elegant strikes carving deeper into the wolf’s hide. Yet with each exchange, the tempo shifted. Killian’s movements slowed just enough while Nikolai’s assault grew stronger, more ferocious and his black flames hotter.

With a reverberating strike, Nikolai’s fist embedded itself into Killian’s abdomen, while the vampire clung to the wolf with his talons and claws, before biting his neck with the sharp, sabre-like fangs in his mouth.

“Fall!”

“Never, I cannot lose to a fresh pup!”

“THEN DIE!”

Nikolai’s long and flexible black tail wrapped around the vampire as he devoured his blood, the agony as it flowed into the vampire infuriating.

Crack!

The bones in the vampire’s throat creaked as his tail tightened.

Then he tore away from Killian, ripping deep gashes in his own body, before smashing the vampire into the ground, which could barely be called sand any longer and was all but concrete and steel.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep