The priest's body was scattered at Vayne's feet. Frey returned to her human form, her eyes completely different from those of the terrifying animal form she had before. She explains that since the death of her family, she has become a shaman, casting a curse on herself, thus gaining the power to transform herself against the Frost Witch. The ritual of gaining power requires the assistance of dark magic, but she does it for protection

Wayne stuck an arrow in Frey's heart. When she discovers Frey's true identity, her love and cherishment are all gone. Tears welled up in Frey's eyes as she fell, but Wayne didn't notice it. The warmth between the two people, with the death of Frey, finally disappeared.

There are still a few hours before dawn, which means there is still some time for this hunt to wrap up. Wayne had only the demons in her mind. She enjoyed the killing that belonged to her, and every killing that would follow. The dark worlds of Runeterrae will fear her presence, just as these demons terrify her.

For the first time since her parents died, Wayne smiled.

There was only one arrow left on Wayne's crossbow. She had three wounds on her body, oozing blood. She spent the night hunting the beast that had once been human. Now the beast threw her to the ground and was about to bite her head off her shoulder.

Things went more smoothly than expected.

The transformed beast drips slime from its mouth and screams eager to kill. Wayne looked around the darkness through his night vision goggles and saw that there were no weapons nearby and no place to hide. She deliberately followed the beast to the open meadow so that it could not use Demacia's alder wood as a cover, but this decision also left her completely exposed to the monster.

That's good. After all, if the killing is hasty, then there's no fun.

The beast grabbed Wayne by the shoulders and lifted her up. Its large jaws were wide open, revealing rows of hacksaw-like teeth. Even if its big mouth couldn't bite her, the rancid breath it breathed from its mouth would be enough to kill Wayne.

Vayne's mind raced through choices. She could try to dodge the beast's bite, but that would be a stopgap measure at best. She could have kicked the beast's ridiculously many teeth, and then tried to shoot the last arrow into its high protruding forehead, but she wasn't sure her arrow would hit its target between the jungle-like fangs. Or, she could try something fast, violent, or even a little silly.

Wayne chose the latter.

She put her whole arm into the beast's open mouth. Razor-like fangs cut through the arms and joints. But Wayne laughed, and the beast's life was already in her hands. She felt the beast's jaws close, about to bite off her arm. Wayne didn't give it that chance.

Wayne twisted his arm and thrust the crossbow deep into the beast's mouth full of slime, until the silver axle of the last arrow was pointed straight at the beast's palate. With a flick of her wrist, the arrow tore through the beast's skull and plunged into its head.

The beast's screaming stopped abruptly, just as suddenly as it began to howl. Its body went limp and fell to the grass. Wayne crawled out from under its carcass, trying to pull her arm out of the beast's skull while avoiding another cut. But she found that her fist was stuck in the beast's head.

She could try to pull her hand out of the shapeshifter's fanged mouth, but perhaps lose a finger or two at the same time, or she could poke her arm a little deeper, and then punch through the beast's skull, then tear open its jaws like breaking a wishing bone.

As usual, Wayne chose the latter.

shortstory

Monster

Monster

There was only one arrow left on Wayne's crossbow. She had three wounds on her body, oozing blood. She spent the night hunting the beast that had once been human. Now the beast threw her to the ground and was about to bite her head off her shoulder.

Things went more smoothly than expected.

The transformed beast drips slime from its mouth and screams eager to kill. Wayne looked around the darkness through his night vision goggles and saw that there were no weapons nearby and no place to hide. She deliberately followed the beast to the open meadow so that it could not use Demacia's alder wood as a cover, but this decision also left her completely exposed to the monster.

That's good. After all, if the killing is hasty, then there's no fun.

The beast grabbed Wayne by the shoulders and lifted her up. Its large jaws were wide open, revealing rows of hacksaw-like teeth. Even if its big mouth couldn't bite her, the rancid breath it breathed from its mouth would be enough to kill Wayne.

Vayne's mind raced through choices. She could try to dodge the beast's bite, but that would be a stopgap measure at best. She could have kicked the beast's ridiculously many teeth, and then tried to shoot the last arrow into its high protruding forehead, but she wasn't sure her arrow would hit its target between the jungle-like fangs. Or, she could try something fast, violent, or even a little silly.

Wayne chose the latter.

She put her whole arm into the beast's open mouth. Razor-like fangs cut through the arms and joints. But Wayne laughed, and the beast's life was already in her hands. She felt the beast's jaws close, about to bite off her arm. Wayne didn't give it that chance.

Wayne twisted his arm and thrust the crossbow deep into the beast's mouth full of slime, until the silver axle of the last arrow was pointed straight at the beast's palate. With a flick of her wrist, the arrow tore through the beast's skull and plunged into its head.

The beast's screaming stopped abruptly, just as suddenly as it began to howl. Its body went limp and fell to the grass. Wayne crawled out from under its carcass, trying to pull her arm out of the beast's skull while avoiding another cut. But she found that her fist was stuck in the beast's head.

She could try to pull her hand out of the shapeshifter's fanged mouth, but perhaps lose a finger or two at the same time, or she could poke her arm a little deeper, and then punch through the beast's skull, then tear open its jaws like breaking a wishing bone.

As usual, Wayne chose the latter.

The trouble isn't killing that damn thing. The trouble is to bring that thing back to his bride.

Well, now it's a widow.

Widow Selena is surprisingly pretty.