The Apocalyptic Queen's Werewolf Journey (Thora and Darius) novel Chapter 152

**Shadows Hearts by Joseph King**
**Chapter 152: Ashwolf Rising**

The air was thick with tension as the sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the silence. Bang! In an instant, the man’s head erupted like a ripe fruit, the gruesome sight painting the ground in a vivid display of crimson.

B

It was over.

Within moments, the chilling sound of steel meeting flesh echoed through the clearing once more.

In less than three heartbeats, every last thief lay sprawled across the ground, their lifeless forms sinking into pools of dark, congealing blood.

A massacre. An utterly one-sided slaughter!

The execution of orders was carried out with a speed that was almost supernatural.

The thieves had barely registered the danger before they were felled, leaving behind nothing but the grotesque twitches of dying men and contorted faces frozen in terror.

Thora stepped into the grim tableau of corpses, her presence both commanding and serene. She deftly collected the fallen thieves’ weapons, her movements fluid and practiced, before tossing them toward Maddox.

A glimmer of excitement ignited in Maddox’s eyes as he lunged forward, hands outstretched to catch the assortment of weapons.

Perfect! More tools to modify, more chances to enhance their arsenal.

“Today’s training mission is complete,” Thora announced, her voice steady and unwavering.

With a sense of finality, she stepped deliberately over the mound of bodies, each footfall echoing in the stillness.

In unison, the team erupted into cheers. “Yes!”

Only then did a hint of relief wash over their faces. They followed Thora closely, marching through the morbid scene as they made their exit.

“Please wait!” A voice broke through the aftermath, a middle-aged man calling out with a tremor of urgency.

In an instant, the group halted, their collective breath held tight, Thora included.

Shirley turned to face the man, her expression a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

That single glance was enough to send him stumbling back, fear etched across his features.

This small girl, with her innocent and unassuming appearance, seemed harmless, yet her eyes radiated an icy chill that spoke of death and despair.

“What is it?” Thora inquired, her tone devoid of warmth.

Brock Rohr, shaking slightly, gestured to his family, signaling them to express their gratitude. “Thank you for saving the Rohrs. If you ever need anything in the future, just say the word!”

As he spoke, a frown creased his brow. “But it’s curious. They seem to be targeting us specifically. Our group hasn’t crossed anyone’s path in the last two months.”

Frost was one of the Twelve Generals of the Mirage Corsairs, the very individual who had lurked in the shadows, manipulating Thora to strike at Darius.

The man at the head of the table, draped in a flowing white robe with a cross pendant resting against his chest, had silver hair cascading down to his waist. His features were sharply defined, and his green eyes sparkled with an unsettling intensity, reminiscent of precious gemstones.

He pondered for a brief moment before uttering two ominous words. “Their intel.”

“Mr. Booth,” the blond man replied earnestly, “this military group appears to have materialized from nowhere. We can’t find any information about them. They leave no traces after their operations, not even a hint of their presence. They even collect all weapons post-battle. Each time they engage, they utilize newly modified equipment, making their origins a complete enigma, and their numbers remain unknown.”

The blond man continued, “However, all their targets thus far have been small-scale forces, with combat capabilities and numbers below A-rank. The last encounter with our Mirage Corsairs was merely a coincidence.”

In this world, both thief syndicates and mercenary groups were ranked by their strength.

S-rank was the pinnacle, followed by A-rank, with E-rank marking the weakest.

Both Greywolf and Mirage Corsairs held the esteemed S-rank.

Corey Booth, the man at the helm, narrowed his eyes dangerously, a predatory glint surfacing. “Inform the Twelve Generals to keep a close watch on Ashwolf. The moment they cross paths with them, they must be eliminated. We cannot allow them to gain any more strength.”

The room fell silent as everyone bowed respectfully. “Yes, Mr. Booth.”