I Became A Zompirewolf



The courtiers and nobles watched as Keron stood before Reaper, mere moments away from tragedy. In this tense moment, Minister Theron, the wisest and most respected figure in the Orion Empire's court, stepped forward.

Minister Theron's voice resonated through the hall, commanding attention. "Enough! We cannot allow chaos to disrupt the festivities. Let us settle this dispute in the way of our ancestors, through a spar, as the Orions have always done... if his majesty allows so."

The Emperor, seated upon his ornate throne, considered the proposal momentarily. His gaze swept across the hall, taking in the anticipation and the desire for spectacle. 

With a regal nod, he granted his approval. "I see no reason to object. These proceedings have indeed grown stale, and this event shall bring a welcome breath of excitement."

His suggestion brought a murmur of agreement from the gathered crowd, intrigued by the prospect of witnessing a clash of strength and skill. Minister Theron's eyes moved to Keron and then to Reaper.

"Keron, as the noble's guard, do you accept this challenge to settle your grievances with Reaper?" Minister Theron asked, his tone just and uncaring.

Keron, his face filled with determination and a hint of anger, stepped forward. "I accept, Minister Theron. I will avenge my master's dignity and punish this insolent woman for her misdeed."

Before Keron could continue, Reaper interjected, his voice firm and filled with warning. "Choose your next words carefully, Keron. Bella acted in self-defence. I suggest you stand down before the consequences become dire."

Keron's eyes narrowed, his hand instinctively moving towards the hilt of his plasma sword. "I care not for your warnings, Reaper. I will not let this insult go unanswered."

Minister Theron raised his hand, silencing the room once again before speaking. 

"Very well. The spar shall commence, but I must remind you that this is an honourable duel fought with martial arts. No weapons shall be allowed."

Reaper and Keron nodded in agreement, preparing themselves mentally for the upcoming clash. 

As the courtiers cleared a space in the grand hall, creating a makeshift ring, Keron and Ashton faced each other, their eyes locked in a silent battle of determination. The air crackled with tension as they prepared to engage in combat.

Fueled by his desire for vengeance, Keron launched himself forward with lightning-fast punches aimed at Ashton's torso. His movements were precise, each strike delivered with the intent to overwhelm his opponent.

But Reaper, with his uncanny reflexes, swiftly evaded the onslaught, ducking, weaving, and parrying with calculated grace.

"Is that all?" Ashton taunted his opponent as he played with him. 

He knew Keron was no match for him and wasn't taking the fight seriously. Otherwise, he would have ended the spar along with Keron's life in one blow. Keron, oblivious to their difference in strength, kept attacking Ashton. 

Ashton's agility and combat prowess allowed him to seamlessly transition from defence to offence. With a sudden burst of speed, he closed the distance between them, launching a series of powerful kicks towards Keron. Each strike carried the weight of Reaper's immense strength, threatening to knock Keron off balance.

Keron, determined not to be overwhelmed, countered with swift footwork, dodging Reaper's kicks and retaliating with fast jabs and hooks. 

However, despite his best efforts, he struggled to penetrate Reaper's defences. The Ghosts' leader seemed to have an almost instinctive sense of his opponent's movements, effortlessly blocking, parrying, and countering with precision.

As the battle raged on, the intensity grew. His frustration mounting, Keron summoned his inner strength, channelling it into a powerful roundhouse kick aimed at Reaper's head. 

The force behind the strike was formidable, but Reaper, always one step ahead, deflected the attack, redirecting Keron's momentum and leaving him momentarily vulnerable.

Seizing the opportunity, Reaper swiftly closed his fists in a blur as he unleashed a barrage of devastating blows upon Keron. Each strike landed with a bone-crushing impact, causing Keron to stagger backwards, his defences crumbling under the sheer force of Reaper's assault.

Bloodied and battered, Keron's resolve faltered for a brief moment. But the fire in his eyes refused to die out. Gathering the remnants of his strength, he pushed through the pain, mustering a final surge of energy.

He launched himself at Reaper with a primal roar, attempting a desperate takedown. But Reaper, unyielding and unrelenting, sidestepped the attack with a fluid motion, swiftly countering with a sweeping leg kick. 

Unable to regain his balance, Keron crashed to the ground, his body momentarily paralysed with pain.

Seeing defeat looming, desperation flickered in Keron's eyes. Ignoring the agreement to fight without weapons, he reached for his plasma sword, hoping to turn the tide with its deadly power. The blade glinted in the dim light as he swung it towards Reaper with all his might.

"Die, you mutant bastard!"

"...really?" Ashton shook his head as the plasma sword arced towards his neck. 

After fighting against simulated Xyrans, Keron's pathetic manoeuvre wasn't enough to put a scratch on Ashton's skin. He intercepted Keron's strike with lightning-fast reflexes, catching the blade between his hands and the next moment, the sword shattered.

When Ashton's bare palms intercepted Keron's Pasma sword, a collective gasp escaped from the onlookers in the grand hall. The courtiers, nobles, and even the seasoned military personnel were astounded by the audacious display of strength and defiance against the deadly weapon. 

Noblewomen clutched their chests, their delicate fingers pressing against the expensive fabrics of their dresses, their hearts pounding with fear and exhilaration. It was an unusual sight, a testament to Reaper's otherworldly power.

Military generals exchanged incredulous glances, their disciplined demeanour momentarily shattered. 

They were well aware of the reputation of the plasma sword, its ability to effortlessly slice through the strongest hulls of spaceships. Yet here was Reaper, a mere mortal, breaking it apart as if it were made of glass.

Minister Theron, usually composed and measured, had a look of awe. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but he found himself speechless, simply observing the aftermath of Reaper's feat.

The Emperor's usual composed demeanour faltered briefly, replaced by a flicker of intrigue and curiosity. He leaned forward, his gaze fixed intently on Ashton. The courtiers around him shifted, sensing the rare display of surprise from their sovereign.

Minister Theron stepped forward once more, his voice resonating with authority. "Let it be known that Reaper has proven himself in strength and mercy today. The matter is settled, and the court festivities may continue-"

"Not so fast," The Emperor interjected. "Keron... must face the consequences of his actions."