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Chapter 18: The Blood God

“Werewolves are really fascinating creatures,” Archibald heard as he slowly woke up from a dreamless sleep. He groaned as he tried to sit up, but the strange heaviness of his body pulled him back down. “You must be feeling so tired,” said the familiar voice. “If you were not a werewolf, you should have been dead the moment you tried to cast a spell, but you are no ordinary man, though.”

Archibald rubbed his palm over his eye. His head hurts like needles were being pushed it. He winced as he slowly boosted himself into a sitting position. “What happened?” he muttered.

“Well, it seems you tried using the grimoire without prior knowledge and training. One of my followers found you, lying unconscious in a pool of your own blood, in front of Lovers’ Maw.” Massimo reared his head close to his and stared suspiciously into his eyes. “Care to tell me what happened in there?”

“A werewolf attack…” he started. “Your safehouse was attacked by one of the werewolves from my

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