Rewind to April 28, 1831.

In the northern part of the province of Genoa, an army of about 600 men was walking through the fields. This is the vanguard of the Genoese Civil Defence Force, which is the front line, and the entire Civil Defence Force must arrive at Fort Patnam, under the Ott Mountains, by 1 May.

At this time, it was already summer in the south, and these soldiers were sweating and exhausted, and this was even the first time they had walked out of the barracks. One can imagine what kind of marching formation they will come out of.

Despite anticipating the unexpected and making preparations for this, such as resting as much as possible, setting up more shelters, and equipping more wagons and large animals to lighten the burden on the soldiers, Herbert Wells found that many soldiers were left behind.

That's just a five-day journey for 600 people.

Wells did not think that these soldiers were cheating and cheating, but that these soldiers were hard-working and honest, and very obedient to orders, which changed his long-standing belief as a northerner that southerners were cowardly and treacherous, not to be soldiers.

But no matter how good the soldiers, an army that is not fully trained will not stand the test, even if it is only on the march.

According to the original plan, long-distance marching training is also one of the necessary trainings, which is also a complex system of work, involving reconnaissance, route selection, defense, supply, camping and other related military activities.

But the dismissal of the viscount and the later order from the north interrupted everything.

As the chief instructor, Wells had to prioritize shooting training and line tactics training.

The former was fed entirely with ammunition, and with sufficient ammunition, the soldiers performed adequately. The line tactical training was not satisfactory, and Wells could only make sure that they barely completed their orders on the training ground.

Unlike the worried Wells, Viscount Brandon, the supreme commander of the Civil Defense Force, who accompanied the army, was in high spirits.

Wells even wondered how the Viscount, who was nearly sixty years old, managed to be so energetic.

I have to admit that Viscount Brandon has a great body, although he rides all the way, it is not something that ordinary people can do if he can keep his body upright all the time.

But the old viscount's occasional impromptu orders left Wells idle, and he liked to inspect the soldiers at camp, and liked the majesty and pompous appearance of the parade, when the soldiers needed rest most of all.

Fortunately, the Ott Mountains have arrived, and this vanguard has already walked in the hilly terrain on the southern edge of the Ott Mountains.

Rest here for the night, and by noon tomorrow we will arrive at Fort Partonham, a military fortress that guards a hole into the Ott Mountains.

Taking advantage of the afterglow of the setting sun, Wells ordered his troops to camp on the spot.

He was the equivalent of Chief of Staff, with a team of junior officers and non-commissioned officers serving as staff officers. The flag was planted on a hill with an open view.

A shepherd's hut on the hill was reclaimed as a headquarters, and was also Viscount Brandon's residence for the night.

Four companies were arranged around the headquarters, and each company arranged tents in a horizontal row, with a wooden sign at the head of the platoon with the name of the company commander written on it.

There is a gun bundle on the right side of the wooden plaque, and the rifles are neatly arranged. The horses are at the rear of the camp with a tether. There is a special person who is responsible for the washing and feeding of the horses. The ammunition wagons accompanying the army were located a little further behind the rear and were also guarded by special personnel.

On the outskirts of the camp, improvised fortifications were arranged, and even trenches were dug tirelessly and tripwires were set up, just like in wartime.

The soldiers were not trained, but they were able to complete the setup within the time frame due to their hard work.

By the time Wells had arranged the sentry, patrols, and liaison with each other, night had fallen, and most of the soldiers had already eaten dinner.

To-day, Viscount Brandon was not in the mood to inspect the soldiers, so he ate some dry bread with wine, and fell asleep.

It seems that he is tired enough, too.

"Report!" the adjutant reported outside the tent.

"Come in. Wells was dining at this time.

"Sir, there are two soldiers who went out on patrol today and did not come back. They went out at five o'clock. The adjutant said.

Wells looked at his pocket watch, it was half past seven in the evening: "Are you lost?"

So far, there have been no deserters, but many have been lost for various reasons, marching in the field, in unfamiliar areas, such things are often unavoidable. But often the next day, the lost soldiers are found.

These soldiers could not be deserted at the moment, and their endurance was beyond Wells's expectations.

"What they lack is enough training and there is time. Wells thought.

"Tomorrow at 5 o'clock, you send a few to look for them, but you must be back at camp by 7:30. Wells commanded.

"Yes!" the adjutant commanded.

Five kilometres away from the CDF makeshift camp, the two missing soldiers, mentioned by Adjutant Wells, were squatting on the ground shivering.

Werewolf Wolf was fiddling with the rifled gun in his hand, and his mouth was slurking:

"What a sophisticated weapon, much stronger than those in the hands of the militias in St. Nouvé. In contrast to this new rifle, they had only burning sticks in their hands. ”

Standing beside him were his kind, more than 50 werewolves. They were tall, muscular, energetic, and ready to move.

Wolf is their king.

"King, the rifle is not a handy weapon for us Protoss, and in my opinion, it is not as good as an axe. I love the feeling of chopping off the heads of those farmers with a giant axe. ”

The one who spoke was a werewolf armed with a giant axe named Arthur.

But both Wolf and Arthur mean powerful warriors in the context of werewolves, they have no surname, only a first name.

"Arthur, whether it's a rifle or a great axe, it's just one type of weapon. We have to admit that rifles give humans a great advantage, especially when they are lined up. We certainly wouldn't line up to shoot against them in the same way, that would underline their huge numerical advantage. ”

Wolfe carried the rifle on his back and continued, "I would like to have gunpowder more than a rifle, so that we can make our own grenades, so that we don't have to go on a rampage against a dense human formation. Can you imagine that we ignite a grenade at a distance of 200 meters from the enemy and start charging, and we have already dropped the grenade before the enemy can shoot. Grenades would explode above their heads, destroying them, and by the time they thought the doom was over, our great axe had already cut it down. ”

Arthur listened with fascination: "That five, nay, tenfold enemy will also quickly collapse." ”

"Yes, the number of our Protoss has not been able to increase, and we are naturally at a disadvantage. The world would have been ours, at least half. Wolf said.

In human legends, the ancestors of werewolves were originally humans, but because they could not withstand the temptation to drink the demon's wine, they became werewolves, brutal and bloodthirsty, betrayed humans, and became enemies of humans.

In the oral history of werewolves, werewolves and humans were originally brothers, and they came to the world on the same dragon ship to fight against nature and beasts together. However, the human beings were treacherous, betrayed the wolf brothers who had fought side by side with them, and relied on the advantage of being outnumbered, and later killed the werewolves, and only a few werewolves fled into the mountains to survive.

No one can say exactly where these two legends came about, but at least they show that there must have been a deep relationship between werewolves and humans.

After a hundred years of hibernation, the wolf clan has become strong again. It's not so much hatred and wild instincts in the blood as it is a practical need.

In order to escape the pursuit of humans, the wolves migrated west along the Ultra Mountains, where the inaccessible snow-capped mountains and primeval forests finally found a place of recuperation.

But the growing population needed more food, so they had to return to the east to fight for more space to survive.

At first, they gained a lot and the inhabitants of St. Nooui were defenseless, but when the militias were formed in various places, the werewolves began to lose, especially when they were alone.

Worf and his men realized the power of gunpowder weapons, and a rifle was not terrible, but when dozens or hundreds of rifles were lined up, the werewolves had to turn around, and they could not compete with the humans.

As the leader, Wolf was wise, and he felt that the werewolves needed to change their tactics as well, so he thought of grenades because he stumbled upon an earthen bomb made by the militia of St. Noowe.

It was a dud bomb that had smashed Wolf's head. It's a stroke of luck to think about it now.

This weapon is more suitable for werewolves than a rifle. So he made a deal with some mysterious person in Genoa who came up on his own initiative, and the other party provided him with information.

A poorly trained Genoese Civil Defence Force was to arrive at Fort Patnam on a certain day with a large amount of gunpowder, and there was even a route map for the march, marked in several locations conducive to the raid.

As a leader and king, Wolf is much more cautious, and he will not fully trust a human with evil intentions.

Although there were only fifty people around Worf, there were many more werewolves within a radius of a hundred miles. To the north of Genoa is an extension of the Ott Mountains, mostly hills and hills, which provide excellent shelter and hiding place for werewolves.

In the dead of night, except for the occasional snort of horses, a few soldiers whispered.

Wells has insomnia tonight, which is a strange phenomenon. He was distracted tonight, although it was not the first time that soldiers had disappeared since leaving the barracks in Vichy.

Simply dressed, Wells stepped out of his tent. The nights in the mountains are a little cool, and a few specially lit bonfires bring some warmth.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the direction of the stables, followed by an exclamation. Wells saw some dark shadows moving rapidly, and when he got closer, he realized that something was wrong.

Frightened horses and large animals rushed into the barracks and knocked over the tents. And then there were the screams.

"Enemy attack!"

"Enemy attack!"

These soldiers, who have only been in military uniform for more than three months, have no idea what the war is really like. Everyone, including Wells, thought it was an armed march, even though Wells had always stressed that it had to be carried out in accordance with military regulations.

In the chaos, the ugly faces of the werewolves frightened the soldiers, while the giant axes in their hands mercilessly harvested life.

Many more soldiers were hacked to death before they even figured out what was going on.

A werewolf ran up to him, and the werewolf's face was terrifying in the light of the fire, and Wells drew his saber and bravely met him.

The giant axe versus the saber, Wells did not have a hard confrontation with the opponent, Wells, who had fought in the northern frontier, skillfully dodged the opponent's inevitable axe, stabbed with a backhand, and inserted the tip of the knife into the opponent's waist.

He had time to stab deeply, but his opponent turned around in pain and slashed at Wells' back.

In his eagerness, Wells quickly fell to his knees, dodging the fatal blow. The werewolf jerked, then collapsed, blood spurting from his neck.

Viscount Brandon appears on the scene and takes down Wells' opponent with his own hands.

The two glanced at each other, and in the firelight, their eyes were full of shock. At this point, they still couldn't believe what was in front of them.

The soldiers were screaming, some were wailing, some were crying, and many more were fleeing.

"I'm Viscount Brandon, move closer to me!"

Brandon yelled, and his guards, because they were close to him, had not suffered any damage, and had gathered with him at the first time.

In this chaotic battlefield, they became a beacon in the isolated island, and soldiers from different companies approached them.

At this time, someone in the two companies in front finally organized, and they joined together with the two supreme commanders, and their morale was slightly boosted. But many have no weapons in their hands, and most are even barefoot.

However, after the werewolf attack was successful, they also gathered, and they rushed towards Viscount Brandon and the others with giant axes in hand.

No matter how old and strong Viscount Brandon was, and no matter how experienced Wells was, their reluctantly assembled rookie subordinates could not stop the onslaught of the werewolves.

In the instant of contact, the CDF collapsed.

In the midst of the chaos, Wells and Viscount Brandon were separated.

In the Ott Mountains.

In the midst of the dense forest, the sun shines through the treetops. An ant struggled to carry food, and Wells stared at the ant for a moment, until a pair of big feet trampled the ant under the soles of his feet.

The owner of these big feet belongs to Wolf. No, Wells was taken prisoner, and he was accompanied by twenty other soldiers. The only good news was that Viscount Brandon managed to escape, but it was heard that he was also seriously injured.

"I heard you're their head?" said Wolf, smoking a cigarette, one of his trophies.

"Yes. Wells tried to stand up, but Arthur rested a great axe on his shoulder, forcing him to continue crouching on the ground, and he could even smell the blood coming from the great axe.

"Five of us died, and of course they are insignificant compared to your losses. But even so, I have decided to make you captives my slaves, and you must make your men obedient, or I will cut off one of your ears or a nose for every one who runs. ”

Wolf blew a string of smoke rings, and he seemed to be very good at it.

But he only had two ears and a nose. Arthur said.

"And the tongue, and the ......" Wolf kicked Wells in the crotch in humiliation.

Wells blushed and angry.

"No, no. Wolf shook his wolf's head, "Don't think about resisting, we have a good way of slaves." At first, those people also wanted to escape, but after some training from us, they all became 'wood'. ”

Soon after, Wells came across the so-called "woods", a group of tortured inhumanoid slaves, like walking corpses, who had lost their minds except to work incessantly.

From the rags on these people, it is clear that they may have been farmers, merchants, landlords, and even clergy before.

Wells was locked up in a cellar with a guest in it.

The man was clean, completely different from the slaves outside, except that his beard covered the lower half of his face. This man is even in the mood to joke:

"Welcome, this is a mountain house and free to stay. I'm Percy Robinson!"