He darted across the battlefield like a wild storm, grabbing discarded weapons—broken blades, splintered staves, even shattered rifle stocks—and turned them into tools of destruction. A cracked axe swung wide, deflected. A spear shaft jabbed low, catching Draven in the ribs. Each strike was clean, efficient. He moved with brutal rhythm. Controlled. Trained.
He's fast—faster than I thought. Precise too…His technique—it's sharper than any mutant's.
Draven growled through his teeth as Markus spun around behind him again, wrapping a chain around his arm and jerking him forward before slamming a knee into his gut. The pirate stumbled.
Another strike.
A high kick to the jaw.
Then a follow-up elbow that sent Draven staggering back.
Markus kept advancing, blade in hand now—ripped from a fallen soldier. He moved like a shadow given form. Every movement calculated. Every feint a trap.
Draven bared his teeth.
He's overwhelming me…
Why?! He's just a demi-wolf! My mutation should be more than enough to overpower him!
He's stronger than any demi-wolf I've ever fought—
He blocked another strike—but just barely.
—Except one.
Markus dashed in for another hit.
Draven roared and swung wildly.
CRACK!!
His fist collided with Markus's helmet—dead center.
The metal splintered instantly. Cracks spread from the impact like a spiderweb. The right half of the helmet exploded off with a spray of debris, revealing Markus's battered, blood-streaked face beneath.
Draven froze for half a second.
His eye widened.
"…It's you…"
Markus narrowed his eyes.
"What?"
"You're the one…!"
His voice shook. Not with fear.
But fury.
"You're the one!!!"
Markus didn't understand—but he didn't care. He lunged again, fist slamming into Draven's nose with a brutal pop, then a rising knee smashed into his cheek, snapping the pirate's head back.
"I don't know what the hell you're rambling about," Markus muttered, "and honestly?"
His knee cracked into Draven's jaw one more time.
"I don't care."
But then—
Draven screamed.
He grabbed Markus by the chest plate and hurled him into the dirt.
The ground cracked from the impact.
Before Markus could roll away, Draven pounced.
He mounted him and slammed his fists down like a mad animal.
BAM!!
BAM!!
BAM!!
Each punch dented the armor. Blood splattered.
"HE LOOKED JUST LIKE YOU!!" Draven roared, eyes glowing, mutation flaring wild across his body. "HE TOOK MY CREW! MY SHIP!!"
BAM!!
"YOU RUINED ME!!!"
BAM!!
"YOU'RE A DAMN GHOST!!"
BAM!!
Markus blocked what he could—arms crossed, ribs curling—but the strength behind the blows was inhuman. The mutated energy lashed at him like coils of lightning.
But his eyes—
Still burning.
Draven's fists slammed down like thunder—over and over—until Markus growled deep in his chest and exploded upward with a roar.
He kicked Draven in the ribs, sending the pirate flying back across the battlefield. Dirt exploded where Draven crashed. Markus was already sprinting after him. Their fists collided mid-air—shockwaves bursting outward in every direction.
They exchanged blow after blow, fists cracking, bones rattling. Markus dodged under a sweeping kick, countered with an elbow to the chest. Draven spat blood and responded with a rising knee that Markus barely blocked.
Then—Draven howled and thrust both arms toward the ground.
Purple energy surged.
"DIE!!"
Twin beams of mutation energy fired from his hands, slicing through the battlefield like divine punishment. The ground erupted in a straight line—exploding upward in a shower of molten rock and flame.
Markus dove out of the way—rolled—then burst through the smoke, blade in hand.
Now.
He found the opening—sprinted forward and drove the sword through Draven's gut.
Or so he thought.
SNAP!!!
The blade cracked at the hilt.
Markus froze.
Draven looked down, grinning.
His belly glowed purple—armor and flesh fused by hardened mutation.
"Nice try."
Draven grabbed Markus by the throat and lifted him up like a doll.
Then—
SCHLLLUCKK!
Draven's mutated arm pierced straight through Markus's stomach, bone and muscle tearing apart as his arm shot through and jutted out the back. Blood sprayed from Markus's mouth. His legs twitched.
His whole torso…
It's inside me…
The blood soaked the dirt.
"You messed up, kid!!!" Draven bellowed. "You're weak!!! You fight like someone who's already dead!! Where's your fire?! Where's your war cry?!"
Markus could barely hear him.
His arms hung limp.
He was too reckless.
He had no one watching his flank.
No Angel Squad. No backup.
Draven's hand reached up.
He ripped one of Markus's wolf ears clean off.
"Let me take the rest of your pride!!"
Then—two fingers slashed across Markus's eyes.
"AaAARGH!!"
Blood flew.
"DIE!! DIE!! DIE!!"
Markus's vision went dark.
His strength… faded.
I'm dying…
There's no way out of this…
I… I failed them…
Darkness consumed him.
But then—
A voice.
Calm.
Ancient.
Call upon the Blood Wolf…
And I will deliver you…
Draven conjured a blade of warped bone and corruption.
"Any last words, boy?" he sneered.
Markus's lips barely moved.
"…Blood…"
"Huh? That it? 'Blood'?"
"…Blood Wolf…"
His voice strengthened.
"BLOOD WOLF… I CALL UPON YOU!!"
"Die, kid."
SHLUNK.
Draven ran the blade through Markus's throat.
His body slumped.
"Good riddance," Draven muttered, tossing him aside like trash.
He turned—beginning to walk back toward the ship.
Then—
Markus's body twitched in the dirt, eyes dull, throat pierced, blood still trailing from the torn mess where Draven's sword had run him through.
But the red aura surged again.
Then black.
It rippled across his skin like an infection—no, a rebirth. Crimson cracks spread over his chest, curling like flames across his shoulders, pulsing with light that shouldn't exist. The blood that once soaked the ground around him began to move, dancing upward as though gravity no longer applied. It flowed in streams, sliding back into the wounds it had escaped from. Skin reformed. Bone snapped into place. The hole in his stomach sealed with a hiss of steam.
Then his eyes opened.
Gone were the blue irises. Now—pure crimson. Glowing.
Markus rose, piece by piece, like a marionette brought back by vengeance.
Each breath he took came out like a growl.
His arms flexed—black veins throbbing beneath pale skin. His fingers curled, nails sharpening into clawed tips. His spine arched unnaturally for a moment as something ancient screamed through his blood.
Call upon the Blood Wolf… and I will deliver you…
It was no longer a whisper.
It was a command.
He screamed.
Not in pain. Not in fear.
But rage.
A wild, ear-shattering, soul-splitting howl that echoed across the entire battlefield. The trees shook. The clouds parted. The earth itself groaned under his presence.
Draven turned just in time to see the monster reborn.
Markus's aura now bled smoke—red and black, curling upward in a storm of fire.
His shirt and armor were torn away, revealing pale skin marbled with crimson seams—like magma running just beneath flesh. His muscles tensed with unnatural force.
Draven's eyes widened.
"What… what are you…?"
Generation 2: Blood Wolf Unleashed
Markus moved.
Not ran. Not charged.
He vanished.
Then appeared behind Draven with a sonic boom.
Before the pirate could turn, a fist slammed into his ribs—shattering them. Draven was launched into the air. Markus followed, appearing above him in mid-sky, driving his elbow into Draven's spine and slamming him back into the dirt.
CRACK!!
Dust exploded around them.
Markus dropped from the sky and landed atop him, straddling his chest.
He roared again—this time like a beast of old—and began pummeling.
Left fist. Right fist. Left again. Over and over. Every strike echoed like a bomb going off.
Draven tried to block—bones broke. Tried to move—muscles failed. The ground beneath them began to fracture from the force of the repeated blows. Blood splattered across Markus's face, down his arms, onto the cracked battlefield.
"You… you're not supposed to exist!!" Draven screamed.
Markus didn't answer.
His mind was lost—drowned in fury.
He grabbed Draven's head and slammed it into the stone beneath them. Once. Twice. The third time, the ground cratered.
Draven's body spasmed.
Markus stood up slowly, shaking.
His chest heaved. His mouth hung open, a low growl bubbling out.
He wasn't done.
He kicked Draven into the air, leapt after him, spun, and axe-kicked him down with such force that the shockwave split the battlefield open in a smoking trail of red light.
All around them, the wind stopped. The sky turned black.
And Markus—the Blood Wolf—stood alone, pulsing with unnatural life, eyes locked on his broken prey.
"This is just the beginning," he snarled.
Draven roared with fury as Markus tackled him again, slamming his fists into the pirate's face and chest like a wild animal unchained. Each blow cracked the ground deeper beneath them, sending tremors through the battlefield. Draven could feel it—his ribs fracturing, lungs rattling, blood rising to his throat.
"GRAAAAH!! I have no choice… DAMN IT—IF I DIE, HE DIES TOO!!"
Mutation energy burst from Draven's core in a flash of seething violet. His eyes widened, blood trailing from his lips. With a crazed scream, he thrust both hands forward and unleashed his deadliest technique.
BOOOOOOOM!!!
"HEART MUTATION!!" he bellowed.
The blast struck Markus dead-center. The explosion swallowed his upper body whole—chest, head, shoulders—everything disintegrated into ash and flame. Flesh incinerated. Bone erased.
Draven dropped to one knee, gasping, staring into the smoldering crater. "If I die… you die too…"
But then—
The smoke hissed. The ash trembled.
From within the ruin, crimson sparks erupted.
Markus's body began to regenerate.
Faster than ever before.
His chest reformed. His neck extended. Skull, jaw, flesh—everything restored in a matter of seconds. The cracks across his body pulsed red and black as if stoked by a hellish forge.
"…Is that all you've got?" Markus growled, voice deeper, layered with something monstrous.
Then they vanished.
Not teleported—moved so fast they blurred through space like flashes of lightning. They collided in mid-air, rebounding across the battlefield, demolishing everything they touched.
Trees vaporized.
Stone shattered.
Winds screamed from the pressure alone.
Then Markus caught Draven by the neck and ran him straight through the warship—barreling through bulkheads, tanks, and reinforced steel walls. Sparks trailed behind them. Fire followed. Until—
CRASH!!
They burst out the back of the ship, falling in a spiral of wreckage and smoke.
Draven hit the ground hard, skidding through the dirt, coughing blood.
Markus stood over him, aura raging, one hand raised—ready to strike the final blow.
But Draven reached for his comm, spitting into it with desperation.
"LAY HELLFIRE ON THE VILLAGE!!"
Markus's eyes widened.
Above—cannons on the warship rotated, charged, and locked onto the village hidden behind the hills.
He vanished in a sonic boom.
The first blast fired.
Markus appeared mid-air—caught it. His muscles screamed. His arms tore open. But he held on.
He pivoted, twisted his body, and launched off the energy, flinging himself across the sky.
The second blast came.
BOOOOM!!
He reached it just in time, crossing his arms to absorb the hit. The force slammed him back, bones snapping under the pressure.
But he held.
He blocked both.
The momentum sent him crashing to the ground. Dust and blood erupted.
Markus lay there, chest rising in ragged gasps. Blood soaked his body. His aura flickered.
His regeneration was slowing.
Footsteps crunched toward him.
Draven stood over him again, barely upright but still breathing. His arm pulsed with conjured energy, forming a jagged black blade.
"DIE!!"
Markus didn't move.
That's it… I'm done…
He closed his eyes.
Then—
BOOM. BOOM.
The sky above exploded.
Everyone froze.
The enemy ship trembled, rocked by powerful external strikes.
A new shape descended from the clouds—sleek, shining silver with burning blue engines.
Not just any ship.
The Starry Child.
One of the Mercenary Fleet's elite warships.
Draven turned, pale. "W-What!?"
Markus opened his eyes again.
A faint, bloodied smile crossed his lips.
"…Looks like… they made it."
"NOOOOO!!!" Draven roared, as the mercenary vessel descended with weapons primed and allies pouring from its dropships.
A radiant blue light began to glow from beneath the Starry Child's hull—pure, concentrated, and pulsing with immense force.
Then it moved.
A streak of light tore through the sky like a comet, slicing through clouds and space alike. It zipped straight toward the enemy warship, its speed cracking the air like thunder.
BOOOOOOM!!!
The blue comet punched through the Hand of God's hull—piercing through steel, fuel lines, and reinforced plating like it was made of paper. Explosions rippled outward from the entry point, engulfing the pirate ship in fire and chaos.
The comet curved, descended—slamming into the ground beside Markus in a pillar of wind and pressure.
When the dust cleared…
Arnik stood tall, his white hair whipping in the wind, blue aura still dancing around his shoulders.
He looked down at Markus and smirked.
"Need some help there, buddy?"
Markus chuckled weakly through the blood on his lips. "Took you long enough."
"DAMN YOU!!!" Draven roared, stumbling forward, blade raised.
But Markus's hand shot out, catching Draven's ankle—just enough to break his balance.
Arnik was already in motion.
His fist smashed into Draven's jaw, launching him backward.
"Don't take all the fun," Arnik muttered as he sprinted in, engaging Draven with lightning speed.
Their blows clashed—mutation versus raw blue energy. Arnik ducked low, slammed his palm into Draven's stomach, then spun and unleashed a flurry of punches to the ribs, each blow precise and focused. He dodged a wild counterstrike, twisted behind the pirate, and delivered a crushing elbow to the back of his neck.
"Still standing?" Arnik grinned. "I can fix that."
Then—
CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
Three pods slammed into the ground nearby, dust blasting outward.
The hatches hissed open.
Kai, Rose, and Aika emerged—battered but ready, magic already sparking at their fingertips.
Kai's eyes locked onto Markus. "Damn…"
Rose grinned, flicking her pink hair back. "Guess we're late."
"Let's end this!" Aika shouted.
The four of them moved as one.
Draven lashed out with his final strength—spikes of mutation firing wildly.
Aika raised a shield, deflecting them.
Kai's gravity magic pulled Draven into the air just long enough for Rose to dash in and slice across his chest, staggering him.
Arnik finished it.
He leapt—energy flooding his limbs—spun mid-air, and drove his fist down with all the weight of the skies.
CRACK!!
Draven's chest caved in. His body hit the ground with finality.
Silence.
Markus watched, his body limp.
"…They're here…" he whispered, barely conscious.
His eyes started to close, body beginning to collapse.
But arms caught him.
Kai.
"It's alright," Kai said softly, holding him upright.
"You can rest now."