The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 384 Flesh and Blood
What does the leader of a werewolf clan look like?
Clayton had previously made many different guesses about this question, but none of them matched the image that Opiros currently showed.

Bejeweled.

When Opiros appeared, the first thing Clayton noticed was not his face, but the rich aura of strange objects.

Headbands, earrings, necklaces, cloaks, buttons, rings, belts, swords, boots, spurs... each one exudes a glimmer that is invisible to mortals, showing their extraordinary power.

The combination of several rare items makes Opiros look sparkling and in line with fashion trends.

Before Opiros emerged from the shadows on his own initiative, Clayton did not notice this dazzling figure. This may be the effect of one of the magical objects.

And then, Clayton saw his face clearly.

Under the shining golden halo, his semi-long black hair fell to his shoulders, and then, furry sideburns circled his chin, but his lips were shaved clean, and he had a young, small, white pointed face. His stature was not tall enough among the werewolves. The overall feeling made him look like a sable wrapped in a wig, handsome but not brave enough.

It is worth mentioning that Opiros' eyes are red.

In the impression of outsiders, the members of the Conleone family have always been characterized by black hair and green eyes. Clayton narrowed his eyes.

Young, extravagant, and powerless, but faced with such a werewolf, the werewolves present showed no willingness to disobey.

Even if they do, they won't show it obviously.

The leadership position of the werewolf clan is not entirely maintained by strength. If a member wants to challenge the clan leader, he needs to do more than just fight. He must first prove that his achievements and contributions to the clan are not much worse than those of the clan leader, and convince other compatriots that he has the ability to lead the clan. Only then can he challenge the supreme leader.

He has never made any contribution to the clan, but has been sharpening his claws every day, trying to get to the top overnight by dueling with the clan leader. He is not a candidate for the clan leader, but a traitor.

So what contribution did Opilus make?
Clayton tried to read his behavior, but Opiros did not immediately make any profound remarks.

"There are still some people who haven't returned, but there is no need to wait for them. Now, let's pray for our ancestors." He said this, then clasped his fingers together in front of his chest, stood in the darkness in a praying posture, motionless.

The werewolves present put their hands together and prayed to God in this dark place.

Clayton didn't fit in.

He could pretend to be pious, but there was no need, as this was a very suitable excuse to get out of this situation.

When the prayer was over, Opiros really found him, and his bright red eyes looked at him from afar: "New friend, Linde told me that you are interested in joining the clan."

Clayton stood up, looked around awkwardly, and then spoke in front of everyone.

"I originally thought so, but now I am a little hesitant."

Hearing his words, Linde, who was standing next to him, was furious, and his daughter Lydia also looked at him as if he were a traitor. If Opiros gave the order now, they would immediately rush over and tear Creighton to pieces.

The other werewolves also stood up, wanting to know what the consequences would be for fooling them.

But their leader did not get angry, he just calmly asked Clayton why he changed his mind.

"Well, I'm an atheist," Clayton said. His words immediately caused a murmur, but he didn't care and continued, "Mr. Linde did mention his faith to me before, but I never thought that all the werewolves here are believers."

"I'm so sorry." He looked really sorry. "I respect your beliefs, but I can't say anything against my will. I just can't adapt to this lifestyle."

While apologizing, Clayton thanked the Black Claw clan for their hospitality, praised their achievements in Berdalabik and their extraordinary bravery, expressed his envy and admiration for the clan as a lone ranger, and finally repeated his regret for not being able to adapt.

Clayton's experience in socializing in high society enabled him to dispel the hostile atmosphere in the ceremony hall with just a few words.

As he talked, the light in the room seemed to grow brighter.

Before the night came, Clayton had already learned from Lydia about the social concepts followed by these clan werewolves. They were bloodthirsty, but also united, loyal, and honorable, almost like him. To deal with them, he only had to think about his own character weaknesses first.

And the reasons he gave were really reasonable.

As a darkin, I hardly need a reason not to trust the White Church.

There were even many werewolves who pretended to convert to Christianity in order to show their loyalty, but they would not speak out their opinions as directly as Clayton did, lest they be expelled. Therefore, without Clayton's knowledge, this frank non-believer gained some sympathy and envy.
The Linds suppressed their anger, and the other werewolves looked at each other, but they finally only looked at Opiros.

Whether they were angry or sympathetic, they had no right to do anything here. The only one who could make the final judgment on Creighton was their leader Opiros.

"No problem." This was Opiros' decision.

Afterwards, he said to Clayton in a friendly manner, "Even if you change your mind, we still welcome you to be our guest. Just remember to say hello to us next time you come to Weiodi, so that we don't have any unnecessary misunderstandings."

"As for tonight, I still hope that you can stay so that I can fulfill my duties as host."

After saying that, he smiled and pressed his hands down, and all the werewolves followed suit and sat down.

"Since we have guests here today, let's not talk about anything too serious, so as not to ruin the fun of tonight's gathering."

Opilus's opinion was unanimously agreed upon.

The Linds reluctantly forgave Clayton and began to treat him as a distinguished guest again.

Although he looked young, Opiros was quite skilled in handling matters. The reception at this moment made Clayton feel as if he was at an upper-class gathering with a red carpet on the floor and guests exchanging courtesies with each other, rather than a gloomy wolf's den.

However, this is not a real banquet after all, so there are no musicians or singers performing. If they want to have fun, the non-human beings can only chat or fight here. Moreover, the "seriousness" of werewolves is different from the "seriousness" of humans. Their lack of seriousness is precisely when they talk about those bloody "businesses".

It's both work and hobby.

According to their status and responsibilities, they expressed their opinions in turn and talked about things that they thought were interesting but were actually bloody, and the atmosphere began to heat up.

What’s interesting is that their language is mixed with low roars, and these roars do not make the sound environment complex and harsh. Instead, they make the overlapping sounds like a knotted rope being untied.

So many werewolves were talking and laughing at the same time, and the hall was echoing, but it was not at all unclear for the listeners to distinguish who was saying what.

This is clearly the effect of the law.

Clayton listened to the one who looked like the most popular werewolf.

"My last employer was a businessman. He was framed by his business partner and was imprisoned for thirty years. My first mission was to rescue him. Guess what I did?"

"Bribe the police to let him out?"

"How could I possibly spend my own money? Well, let me tell you, I committed a minor crime and let the police put me in jail. Then, I told my employer to get injured a few days in advance, and everyone knew where his wound was. After that, I picked a night and killed several prisoners. When I killed them, I made the same wound on a man who was similar in size to my employer, and cut off his head. Finally, I broke the door locks, woke up all the prisoners and ran away, pretending it was a riot."

"Ha, smart! That way, the police will think your employer is dead and won't investigate his whereabouts."

"That's what I thought at first, but I never expected that the police didn't investigate the matter at all. They just cleaned up the blood in the cell and then locked up the next group of people. I worked in vain!"

"Unlucky, I toast to you."

"I also."

After the sound of clinking cups ended, the werewolf story continued.

"But my misery is not over yet. After rescuing my employer, I still have to kill his enemy. I'll tell you in advance that this mission failed, but it's not my fault. His enemy is really fucking rich. There are more than two dozen gunmen patrolling the street in front of the door alone. I finally managed to bypass them and get into the house, but I almost got lost in this man's house."

"You should have asked for more."

"I thought so too, but unfortunately the price was already agreed upon at the beginning. What kind of contract spirit is this?"

"You entered the house, so how did you fail? Was there an ambush of wolf hunters in the house?"

"I might as well deal with a team of wolf hunters. Guess what? That idiot kept a fat brown bear in his home! Damn, it's half as tall as me when it stands up, and its waistline is ten times mine. It's blocking the door like this, how the hell am I going to assassinate that guy? It's lucky that he's not scared to death!"

In the hall, bursts of laughter rang out. Clayton listened quietly, feeling the power generated by the combination of power and curse. As he gradually felt the regularity in the rhyme, his tongue involuntarily pressed against the tip of his teeth, and an urge to try to "speak" began to emerge.

However, even though he was a guest, no one took the initiative to talk to him because Lind and Lydia were sitting nearby.

Clayton thought it was time for him to say something. He turned his head and looked at the silent Lind: "If what I said just now offended you and made you feel betrayed, then I apologize to you."

"Ah."

When Lind had no expectations of Clayton, his words became brief.

"But I still want to marry your daughter."

"That's impossible!" Linde finally responded, and he raised his voice: "I will not let my daughter marry someone with a different faith."

He was aggressive, but his daughter did not seem as pious as he was. A look of disappointment appeared on Lydia's face. On the one hand, she was not as pious as her father, and on the other hand, if Clayton did not marry her, she would have to marry a man she despised.

"Maybe I can marry far away." Lydia shook Lind's shoulder and whispered to him, "Just think of it as the clan's investment in him."

Linde was furious: "What kind of investment is it to marry an outsider? When the clan is in urgent need of strength, can you respond to the chief's summons in time?!"

Lydia stopped talking and looked at Clayton with a helpless look.

Clayton sighed half-heartedly and turned his head back.

Now that Lydia's father was against their marriage, she had no reason to continue to be angry with him. This way, she got rid of an emotional entanglement, and he, a man used to being a playboy, felt better.

But the attraction that came purely from the flesh and the curse still made him feel reluctant.

When his attention returned to the scene, Clayton discovered that although Chief Opiros said that he wanted them to enjoy the pleasure of the gathering, he himself was not idle. Clayton saw him talking to those teeth one by one, and then they disappeared into the shadows together, and came back after a while. He was very busy.

Some servants came in pushing dining carts and placed plates of bloody raw meat in front of the many werewolf members.

They were all freshly cut from living cows. Since they had died not long ago, they were still wriggling in their own blood. Just by looking at them, one could realize that their deliciousness was far beyond what frozen meat could compare to.

Clayton swallowed, but suddenly, he seemed to see the bloody and hideous faces of Ginger and Edgar in the reflection of the glossy white porcelain plate, and a chill suddenly ran up his spine, and the warm and elegant feeling that the Black Claw clan had always given him instantly dissipated.

Did they also kill and eat humans in the castle?

Clayton couldn't help but think about this question, and before getting the answer, maybe he should find a chance to leave first.

His family would be unhappy if he became like these werewolves.