The Invincible Full-Moon System Chapter 1787: Total Anarchy

Massive arrows infused with energy rained from the sky, hammering into the rebellion's ranks.

Ferocious growls were answered by even more savage roars.

A mixture of saliva, sweat, and gore sprayed upward like a fountain, either vaporized by the mana-charged heat in the air or falling back to saturate the earth. It was a chaotic free-for-all.

Both factions collided in total anarchy.

Lives, the most precious gift of nature that deserved preservation, were being rendered utterly worthless.

The reach of death extended to every corner, harvesting numerous souls with every passing second.

The brilliant discharge of spells illuminated the entire battlefield under the moon's glow, painting the dark carnage in vibrant colors. The moment was defined by nothing but battle cries, whimpers of agony, and shrieks of grief.

For one side, a magnificent surge of energy erupted from the ground through a War Spell.

It served to bolster their bodies via the moonlight while consuming the life essence from the spilled blood.

On the opposing side, marks of power were etched into their skin, forcing adrenaline and energy directly into the bloodstream. Though it made them feral and aggressive, such side effects were considered strengths in a life-or-death struggle.

At the center of the fray, the Great Army held the upper hand.

This clash of werewolves proved more favorable for the Great Army's forces.

Watching Adhara dismantle the enemy’s leadership with ease sent their morale soaring, while the presence of the Luna solidified their resolve to continue the assault. If advancing became impossible or if the enemy managed to halt their momentum, they were determined to take at least two foes down with them before falling.

However, the triumph at the center did not extend across the entire field.

Along the flanks, the Great Army was being forced into a retreat.

In the skirmishes between werewolves and the lesser supernaturals, the rebellion held the advantage.

Membership in the higher-ranking races was not merely for status.

There was a specific reason why werewolves were respected by the other high-ranking races, and that reason was currently on full display.

Growl—!

A Beta lunged at three Orcs and two Tigermen, hacking them into bloody chunks of meat. He moved through the mist of blood, relishing its warmth and metallic scent. His fangs tore a large piece of flesh from his victims, which he chewed greedily.

He opened his eyes, expecting to see terror, but was met only with fearless stares.

Despite witnessing how effortlessly he had slaughtered five of their own, the remaining soldiers showed no fear.

Their expressions only grew more resolute as they pressed forward.

The Beta fought against the swarm, snapping his jaws and slashing his claws wildly, further staining his fur with their blood. A distorted, manic grin spread across his snout. He executed a Dwarf by tearing the head clean off his shoulders.

Two more fell—a Tigerman and an Orc.

His claws ripped through their chests before he grabbed their heads and smashed their skulls together.

He was certain the gazes fixed upon him would finally change.

But they remained steady.

His manic smile faded when he looked up to find those same dauntless eyes staring back at him.

The slaughter of their comrades did nothing to shake their resolve.

Attempting to push through the chaos to find his pack, the Beta was suddenly blindsided by a warhammer. His body skidded across the ground for several meters. Gasping for air, he caught the familiar scent of his packmates.

With a surge of hope, he lifted his head.

Yet, what he witnessed was not a reunion.

It was a massacre.

At the center of the carnage, his Alpha was fighting for his life.

He was fending off a coordinated assault from seven soldiers simultaneously.

Though every strike he made took a life, the distraction permitted an arrow to bypass his guard.

He reached for the shaft embedded in his forehead, but his strength failed, and his body went limp before he could touch it.

'W-What is happening...?' The Beta’s eyes widened. Killing enemies with such brutality should have paralyzed them with fear, making the fight easier. Yet, none of them seemed affected. 'How can this be?'

Rising to his feet, the Beta blocked an incoming club, his mind still reeling.

As if his instincts were providing the answer, his eyes drifted toward the distant enemy lines.

At the far rear stood an empress of the storm.

Evelyn remained motionless, immersed in a quiet rage as she kept her gaze locked onto Princess Selene.

Even from such a distance, the intensity of her fury radiated across the entire battlefield.

'She... She is the cause. Every one of them is driven mad for her!'

Near his Alpha’s corpse, the five soldiers scanned their surroundings.

They were hunting for their next target.

Then, as if sensing the fear blooming in the Beta’s mind, all five turned toward him.

Without a moment's hesitation, they pounced in perfect, lethal unison like a pack of wolves.

Swoosh—!

Snapping back to reality, the Beta kicked the Orc in front of him and severed its arm with a single slash.

A Tigerman’s reinforced fist cut through the air like a projectile, shattering his ribs with the power of a seventh-rank realm. He opened his maw and bit deep into the Tigerman’s shoulder, ripping away a chunk of flesh amidst a spray of blood.

Blinded by fury, the Tigerman did not flinch.

A knee lunged upward from the ground and caught his chin, causing his vision to swim.

His eyes snapped back into focus, and he seized the Tigerman’s head, crushing it like a ripe fruit.

Suddenly, a rising pillar of stone launched him into the air.

A glowing, frost-covered war hammer struck him from above, knocking him off the pillar and twisting his arm behind his back. His regeneration worked at full capacity as he snatched another arrow aimed at his skull and hurled it back at the archer.

It struck nothing but empty air.

Brak—!

The Beta hit the ground hard.

Before he could even inhale, he sensed a presence before him.

Someone hauled him up by his shoulders and shattered his skull with a brutal headbutt.

It was the one-armed Orc.

Despite being clearly outmatched—his arm having been easily taken earlier—the Orc snarled through the pain. He hooked his remaining arm around the Beta’s waist and hoisted him up just as a Tigerman leaped over them, spinning for an aerial strike.

A powerful kick slammed into the Beta’s throat, collapsing his windpipe.

He gasped for air and tumbled a dozen meters away.

An Elf stood over him briefly before a steel-shod boot descended, crushing his skull to a pulp.

Although the rebellion forces were technically stronger on average—excluding the key figures and upper-echelon who were around the mid seventh-rank realm, and their Haitis and Danger Blood Ravens who could hunt powerful werewolves—their collective will was clearly beginning to shatter.

Morale was draining away faster than blood from a wound.

Gradually, their superior numbers were being overwhelmed, even though one of them could usually kill two or three opponents.

The unwavering gazes of the Great Army's soldiers were becoming unnerving.

It wasn't long before the momentum shifted back to the Great Army.

Many werewolves were slain because they became distracted, feeling as though they were being isolated and picked off.

The battle seemed to be nearing its end.

However, Evelyn had no intention of letting the conflict drag on.

She scanned the battlefield and noted that things were progressing as she had foreseen—the Great Army had struggled initially but was now dominating. With the enemy’s morale at its lowest point, she decided to crush it completely.

"Rex," Evelyn said, glancing over her shoulder. "Would you be so kind...?"

At her call, a figure stepped out from the shadows behind the Great Army's lines.

Swoosh—!

A magnificent crimson aura erupted toward the heavens, staining the clouds a deep red.

Almost every combatant on the enemy side looked up for a brief moment, drawn to the sudden display. Their collective focus shifted to the rear of the Great Army, where a solitary figure moved through the ranks, approaching Evelyn.

Blood.

The scent of blood radiating from this figure was overwhelming.

The aura, heavy with the oppressive pressure of the Blood Moon, marked him clearly as a werewolf.

But what truly paralyzed the enemy were the curved horns atop his head, glowing with a deep red light. Combined with the eclipsing King Mark burning on his brow—a symbol infused with the combined power of the Blood Moon and the Banished Dark Moon—his identity was certain.

Rex—the Royal Black Prince—had arrived.

Swoosh—!

The moment Rex appeared, a freezing wind swept across the field like the breath of the grave.

While not all the werewolves had seen Rex in person, everyone knew his appearance and his terrifying reputation. With him standing there in all his glory, the rebellion forces fell into a state of panic, frozen where they stood.

To look at Rex was to look directly into the eyes of death.

A man who could slay an Executor and easily dominate royal werewolves possessed strength far beyond their comprehension. Against such a titan, what could their own power possibly achieve?

They could do nothing but wait for the end; they had to accept that their lives were over.

Evelyn observed the reaction with a subtle nod.

'His reputation precedes him,' she thought with grim satisfaction, seeing the terror in her enemies' eyes. She once again appreciated Rex’s foresight in leaving a clone behind. 'The clone is nowhere near his actual power, but its mere presence is enough to tip the scales of the entire war in our favor.'

"Hold your ground and attack!"

Suddenly, a voice cut through the sounds of battle, catching Evelyn’s attention.

It belonged to a werewolf, an Alpha Prime whose aura was among the most potent in the enemy's army.

Hearing his words caused her to frown.

"It’s a fake!! There is no reason to fear him! Follow me and charge!"

'How...?' Evelyn’s eyes widened in shock.

Since the Silverstar Pack were the only ones who knew that the Rex present was a decoy, no one else should have been able to identify it as a clone—especially not an enemy.

Yet this Alpha Prime shouted with total conviction, as if he knew for a fact it was a duplicate.

A feeling of dread settled in Evelyn’s chest.

'No one in the Silverstar Pack would betray us. I trust them completely. Have we been compromised? Did someone from Princess Selene’s side infiltrate us and test the clone?' she wondered, bewildered by the turn of events. 'No, Rex has been by my side the whole time. How is this possible?'

Since the secret was out, Evelyn gritted her teeth and vaulted into the air.

Swoosh—!

Soaring on her crimson flames, she flew across the battlefield, making a direct line for Princess Selene.

"Gistella!"

Near the center of the fight, Gistella gripped two werewolves by their heads and pulverized them with her energy.

She consumed what remained using her Black Heart and prepared to continue her rampage.

But the shout made her stop instantly.

Gistella looked up and saw Evelyn flying straight toward the balcony where Princess Selene was stationed.

"Is she actually serious?" she whispered.

Nevertheless, she jumped as high as she could just as a pack of werewolves lunged at her.

Using her energy to propel herself through the air, she hurried to join Evelyn.

Adhara was more than capable of managing the primary battle, so there was no need for her to remain on the ground.

"It’s the empress!!"

A werewolf pointed toward Evelyn in the sky, his eyes burning with murderous intent.

Since the empress had abandoned the safety of the backline, it was the perfect opportunity to assassinate her and end the war in a single stroke.

But the Great Army was not about to let that happen.

"Protect the empress!"