When The Moon Calls 37 Great Elder Mosia

Zarabia felt a magical fulcation behind her, a vortex made of darkness appeared not far from her, shooting out a fireball.

She didn't bother to turn around, three witches rushed to her back spreading out their arms. A white shield of magic covered them. The fireball exploded the moment it came into contact with the shield. The other witches covered themselves in magic shields, defending themselves from the flames without a problem.

Michael improved his dark magic a lot in the last few months. He could use it any time without the need to transform. The amount of magic inside his body, had improved drastically too. The only thing that bothered him was how weak it was at daytime.

"I'm curious, how did you defeat Elder Pelion with such a weak magic?"

Michael smiled at her, "Only the dead knows, do you really want to find out?"

Zarabia frowned, she couldn't understand how an Elder Witch could possibly lose.

"Knock out the humans first." Ordered Zarabia.

A mocking smile appeared on Michael's face, 'Humans?'

Claudia, Ceddy, Rachel, Chris, and Stacey looked at the witches that came flying at them.

Just like Zarabia earlier, Michael didn't bother to move.

Claudia waited until the witch that was flying at her was close enough, she transformed quickly into her semi-wolf for, pouncing at the witch.

The witch didn't expected Claudia to explode out with such an inhuman speed, she wanted to pull back but it was too late.

Claudia's claw flashed across her throat, ripping away huge chunk of flesh. A fountain of blood splashed out of her throat before she collapsed. Similar scenes happened to the other witches. They thought that they were normal humans, letting their guard down. The price they paid was death.

The remaining witches watched everything with shocked expressions. Even Zarabia lifted her brows in shock.

The five of them walked to Michael's side, their claws tainted by blood, and their golden pupils staring angrily at the witches.

"By the great chaos what are they?" said one of the witches in fear.

"How dare you kill my sisters!" Shouted Zarabia in rage.

Michael stared at her emotionless, "I warned you. We have nothing against the Northern Chaos Circle, but if you still insist..." Michael didn't end his sentence. The blunty threat floated in the air.

Zarabia felt deep humiliation, "I will kill you here and now."

Michael shrugged, he prepared himself to go all out. There were still 16 witches left.

Both sides prepared themselves for the fight.

Bur before they could launch the attack, the s.p.a.ce around them twisted before shattering like gla.s.s.

Zarabia had a bewildered expression, "How?"

Michael noticed a group of people walking to his side, he immediately understood how the spell was broken.

Odette arrived with the bare chested D Brothers, Leroy, Smilla, Izu and Larry.

Thirteen werewolves were facing 17 witches.

The atmosphere turned heavy when people started to come out of their houses.

The witches felt their scalp grow numb. Many pairs of wild golden pupils stared at their group.

Even the kids playing with a ball stared at them with a mad light in their eyes.

"Don't tell me they all are..." Zarabia couldn't believe what was happening.

She looked back at Michael and swayed back in the air. His emotionless pitch black eyes were staring back at her giving her chills.

"Very fascinating, there aren't any humans inside the town they are all a never before seen race."

Everyone was surprised, hearing the soft archaic voice echoing through Palmer Falls.

Zarabia breathed out in delight.

She bowed to the air in front of her, "Greetings, Great Elder Mosia."

The other witches followed suit, "Greetings, Great Elder Mosia."

Michael's eyes narrowed he didn't sense anything, he couldn't tell where the voice came from.

He only noticed the origin when the light in front of Zarabia splintered into many parts, revealing an old man.

He was surrounded by an huge amount of blinding runes. Only his soft smiling face full of wrinkles was visible, the rest of his body was hidden behind the blinding runes. The amount of runes floating around him was at least ten times greater than Elder Pelion used. They seemed to be more complex too.

Michael's alarm bells screamed danger.

The old man opened his eyes slightly, causing the light in the surrounding to quake.

An unheard monstrous amount of magic descended upon Palmer Falls.

Many fainted instantly, and those who didn't found it difficult to breath properly.

"May I ask what your race is called?" Great Elder Mosia directed the question at Michael.

Michael gritted his teeth, "We are Werewolves."

"Oh? Such an unique name...but it is quite fitting." Said Great Elder Mosia while caressing his long white beard.

Michael felt irritated, 'What is this old gender bending witch up to?'

Great Elder Mosia seemed to see through Michael's thoughts, "We will take you back to the Circle, and decide if your race is allowed to live."

Michael s.p.a.ced out for a second, he thought he didn't hear right.

Smoke like darkness exploded out from his body, his body transformed into an over two meters tall beast. His pitch black eyes stared savagely at Great Elder Mosia. He roared out.

*ROOOOOOOOAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR*

The smoke like darkness spreaded out, engulfing everything it touched. Michael started to float up to the same height as the witches.

"Can you repeat what you just said!?" His rough otherworldly voice boomed through the town.

Great Elder Mosia expression didn't change, he kept smiling like an innocent old man, "Truly fascinating, with more time you would become a true powerhouse. Be smart and come with us. If you do as we say we will spare your kind. You might be an Original but you are still too weak."

"How about two Originals then?"

A familiar voice echoed through the area, everyone shifted their attention to another spot in the air.

A purple haze was wriggling in the air, a youth stepped out of it. His lazy att.i.tude together with his bewitching good looks gave off an unique aura.

Purple haze formed underneath his feets. He started to walk across the sky, forming purple haze underneath him to step on. The purple haze followed him wherever he went like an obedient child.

Jonas had arrived!