ation, but Anfey wasn't just anyone.
Anfey climbed out of the carriage. Feller, who was driving the carriage, moved over to make space for him. Anfey observed the town carefully. Perhaps it was because the caravan was too large, no one tried to stop them. There were shadows in the houses, as if the residents were observing them.
"Christian, tell Black Eleven to keep his men outside of the city. We’re going in by ourselves," Anfey said.
Christian nodded in response.
The caravan split into two. Half a dozen carriages entered the city, while the rest stayed behind. They found a clearing not far from the town. Under an old tree was a large bell. Clearly this was where the leader of the town called the residents together for meetings.
"Feller, sound the bell," Anfey ordered.
"No one would reply," Feller argued.
"Try it anyway."
Feller nodded. However, before he could get off of his horse, he heard a loud thud coming from a large house to the right. The door was pushed open and a woman dashed out.
The woman wasn’t two feet away from the house when a werewolf chased out after her and grabbed her by her hair. The woman grunted in pain, and her head was drawn back. Anfey’s eyes flashed with strange emotions. He recognized the woman.
"Barak! Let her go! She saved my life," a few other werewolves jumped out of a nearby alleyway and called.
The werewolf in the lead was wounded, his left arm was covered with different colored fabrics, and he limped as he walked. He was with two other werewolves, and stared at the first werewolf angrily.
The werewolf called Barak shook his head and said slowly, "She is my slave now."
"What do you mean? Are you trying to shame me?" the other werewolf barked.
Barak smirked but did not say anything. He turned his head and glanced at Anfey.
"Are they acting?" Feller leaned over and asked.
"I don’t know, but I know the woman isn't acting," Anfey said. "Go sound the bells."
Feller walked over to the bell. He grabbed the large wood stake that hung next to the bell and began hitting it. The bell made a deep sound that could be heard throughout the town.
The werewolves were well aware of the bell’s sound, but they did not even turn their heads. None of the townspeople came, either.
The werewolf called Barak snorted and turned, dragging the woman behind.
"Barak, this is my last warning. Let her go," the other werewolf growled.
"Bergman, I want you to remember. I am in charge now," Barak said coldly.
"You were in charge. Not anymore," Anfey said slowly. He walked over and said, "I am in charge now. Let her go."
The woman noticed Anfey, and her eyes were filled with joy. However, her hands were still bound and her mouth was gagged. The only thing she could do was struggle and try to catch his attention.
"Who in hell are you?" Barak turned and looked at Anfey. His eyes narrowed dangerously. He was going to wait a bit then decide what he would do. However, he could not tolerate anyone who challenge him openly.
"Get away, human. This is none of your business," Bergman growled as well. Even though Anfey had asked Barak to let the woman go, it was clear that Bergman did not want to befriend a human.
Anfey hesitated, then said quietly, "I rented this town for several hundred gold coins, but I didn’t know I would have to take care of beasts who don’t even know how to speak properly." He had made several plans beforehand, but plans must vary according to the situation. Seeing that the werewolves were clearly respected here, he wanted to try and befriend one side. He didn’t know both sides would express enmity toward him. He had to take a stand, else his time in Moramatch would be very difficult.
"What did you just say?" Barak barked angrily. He pointed at Anfey and looked like he was ready to fight him at any time. However, he was worried about Christian, who was standing by a carriage, not Anfey.
"I don't like people pointing at me," Anfey said.
"So what if I do?" Barak asked, provoking him.
Anfey shook his head. His eyes moved away from the werewolf and glanced upwards. This was an elementary trick, and Anfey didn’t care if Barak fell for it. Though it seemed like the werewolf wasn’t too bright. His gaze followed Anfey’s.
Just as Barak looked up, Anfey grabbed the werewolf’s hand. Barak knew he had fell for a trap when pain shot up from his hand. When he was about to fight back, Anfey’s fist struck his nose. Barak yelped in pain and stumbled back.
"Dirty beasts," Anfey spat. He felt something wet on his hands. He found a handkerchief and cleaned his hand, then he dropped the handkerchief on the ground.
Barak jumped up, his eyes were blood red and his furs were standing on its ends. He was getting taller and stronger. A werewolf’s nose is more fragile than a human’s. Barak’s nose did not break after taking a hit like that, and that showed how strong he must have been.