Chapter 159: Werewolf Plague
During this process, Anse controlled the Arcane Eye to continue searching for the werewolf’s tracks.
The Arcane Eye shuttled between various buildings at the speed of a commoner running, glancing over all rooms without lingering, preferring to miss some rather than waste too much time.
First, it searched the residential buildings, inns, and refugee camp, places that were easy to enter.
After searching half of South City, it found another group, five more adult werewolves.
Anse was starting to feel uneasy; werewolves had a Challenge Rating of 3, and dozens of them could cause large-scale chaos. If there were hundreds, the entire Dulag would be thrown into disorder.
It was nearing noon, which should have been a relaxed lunch time, but the atmosphere at the Federation headquarters was somewhat tense.
Teams of warriors arrived at the Federation headquarters from time to time, some with familiar faces and many strangers.
Quentin led a group hurrying upstairs, their heavy footsteps interrupting Anse’s search.
The door was open, and Quentin knocked lightly, not wanting to disturb Anse’s spellcasting.
Anse stood up and waved them in: “Please come in.”
The group of five included Quentin; he had only met the wood elf druid Carissa before, and the other three were strangers.
Quentin stood beside Anse and raised his hand to introduce: “Everyone, this is our Federation President Mr. Horleywen.”
“Quite the… eye-catching fellow.” The speaker was a tall tiefling in metal armor, carrying a specially made helmet; her features were sharp, skin pale, with metal ornaments hanging from her curved horns.
“I’m Makaria, leader of the Filu Mercenary Group.” With that, she extended her right hand to Anse.
Filu meant July; the name wasn’t imposing or aggressive, but mercenary groups bold enough to use it were generally strong.
Anse raised his hand for a light touch: “We’ve met. Has your cooperation with Salberg ended?”
Makaria smiled dashingly: “Of course. Talon didn’t notify me in advance about that day’s events, so we argued and parted on bad terms.”
She pointed to the two behind her: “These two are captains of the mercenary group, Amn and Modai.”
The two bowed slightly, eyes full of curiosity, but said nothing.
Anse nodded in acknowledgment; both were male tieflings with reddish skin, clearly of pure bloodline.
“President, Carissa said there was important information to share with us, so I brought her along.” Quentin hinted with his eyes that Verdant Courtyard should know something.
“Anse, we’ve discovered large numbers of werewolves leaving the deep forest in batches; they might mix into the city, so prepare defenses.” Carissa addressed Anse by name casually, though they had only met once.
“They’re already here, lurking in various places in the City District, unknown quantity. I’m using the Arcane Eye to search and have found five groups so far, 25 werewolves.” Anse gestured for everyone to sit.
Verdant Courtyard and werewolves were mortal enemies; the mercenary group relied on human society to survive, so the chance of them colluding with werewolves was extremely low—they could basically be trusted.
Conversely, werewolves could hardly coexist with any wise creatures; innately evil, their bloodthirsty bestial nature could only be temporarily suppressed.
“This doesn’t make sense.” Carissa frowned, pacing back and forth with hands behind her back; her youthful face and elderly posture looked quite odd.
Makaria and the others exchanged glances, a hint of excitement on their faces—they didn’t care if the city descended into chaos; they knew this was definitely big business.
“How many people does Verdant Courtyard have? Can you come help?” Anse got straight to the point.
“Today?”
“Today!”
“At most over twenty professionals.” Carissa pondered, “Including me, three elite professionals.”
This strength was far from weak; the Federation openly had only three elite professionals and one advanced professional.
“Meet at the adjacent guard training field at 3 p.m.—can you do it?” Anse’s tone was polite, since he needed their help.
“No problem, I’ll gather everyone right away.” Carissa didn’t ask too many questions and turned to leave, acting decisively.
Werewolves were Verdant Courtyard’s archenemy; they certainly wouldn’t pass up such an opportunity.
Anse turned to look at Makaria.
The female tiefling met his gaze and spoke first decisively: “The Filu Mercenary Group has over sixty members, but as you know, everyone’s situation has been tough lately. After falling out with Salberg, even the final payment…”
Anse understood instantly and took two bottles of holy water from his dragonhide pouch, slamming them on the table: “One bottle of holy water per common werewolf.”
A bottle of holy water used to be worth just dozens or a hundred gold coins, but things were different now—this stuff was hard to come by.
Makaria’s eyes lit up; she unceremoniously grabbed the two bottles, examined them closely, sniffed after opening the cap, then tucked them into her pouch: “Deal, this is the deposit.”
Her shrewd yet unpretentious manner amused Anse; he chuckled lightly: “How many groups of werewolves can you handle?”
“To be safe, three groups. After dealing with them, we’ll support you, with remuneration based on contribution.” Makaria pondered for a moment but didn’t overpromise.
“Mm, good.” Anse thought being conservative was better.
If they underestimated the werewolves too much, he would find them unreliable instead.
“Please gather your group members and leave two at the Federation, ready for combat orders at any time. Be careful not to leak information.” He instructed.
“I’ll stay.” Makaria smiled, “The other members won’t know the enemy before combat—please believe in our professionalism.”
Anse smiled without replying; mercenaries’ mouths had no filters, and their reputation wasn’t great, or Makaria wouldn’t have been notified at the last minute.
After seeing off Makaria and her two companions, he teleported out Salian and Colin, then called Finn, explained the situation, and had them use telescopes and magic pets to watch the residential buildings where the werewolves were, to avoid surprises.
He continued controlling the Arcane Eye to search for werewolf tracks, with Quentin assisting by recording nearby.
This task required him specifically; others could scout too, but not as silently.
Groups of werewolves were found one after another; the sketch mapping streets grew denser with marks, filling Quentin with dread.
He couldn’t help sighing inwardly: Spellcasters were indeed something else, always having ways to cope. Anyone else would have to conduct a massive manhunt, dooming the city to chaos.
If too many people were bitten by werewolves, the consequences would be unimaginable.
A moment later, Illyas slipped in quietly and stood by observing the sketch.
The Jacqueline Knights had arrived, without horses, entering the city in batches through the east gate in teams; they were assembling at the Guard Barracks, ready to deploy for combat at any time.
By the end of the second extended Arcane Eye, time was approaching 3 p.m.
Anse breathed a light sigh of relief, drank half a cup of water, and picked up the sketch; it had nineteen bold circles marked, scattered across the city.
Some were very spread out, a few completely overlapping.
“That’s way too many.” Quentin’s voice trembled slightly; he wasn’t inexperienced, just not with this many werewolves.
These weren’t newly cursed werewolves but full-fledged ones. As an elite hunter, he found three to five tricky; now there were nearly a hundred.
“Not all.” Anse shook his head slightly; time was short, and he had only searched most of the City District, missing the affluent areas and central city.
Still, werewolves were disguised to enter the city and couldn’t access many places, competing with refugees for rooms, so some groups had to huddle together. Even if more lurked elsewhere, their numbers shouldn’t be too high.
“Activity at the Amn Barracks.” Salian entered, face grim, “About two thousand, heading straight this way.”
