A Wolf's Howl, A Fairy's Wing-Chapter 616 - You wouldn’t dare!

As Erik and Naeku reached the palace entrance, the cacophony outside became clearer. The angry voices of the two groups had grown louder, their demands more brazen.

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Erik gently set Naeku down, and his werepanther princess firmly gripped the spear in hand, frowning with determination. They shared one more knowing glance before pushing open the palace doors, stepping directly into the tense confrontation brewing there.

Immediately, all attention turned toward them. Enkai, still standing firm with arms crossed, turned slightly and offered them an amused glance. "They're all yours," he muttered, stepping aside without protest. His relaxed stance made it clear he saw no genuine threat, but his expression indicated curiosity over what would happen.

Naeku narrowed her eyes, holding her spear casually but with a subtle menace. She wouldn't stand a chance against the third-ranked leaders there, but she wasn't going to let that impede her momentum.

Erik stood beside her, observing the gathered crowd with measured indifference. His third-ranked pressure sent an uncomfortable hush rippling through the crowd. Neither the Azanians nor the Packlanders had seen him before, but they instantly realized who he was.

To their right, a tall, elegant woman stepped forward. Her bearing spoke volumes about her status and pride—the matriarch of the Khumalo, clearly. She inclined her head only slightly, eyes sharp and piercing. Beside her stood Kudzai, whose gaze briefly met Naeku's. His expression was complicated, a mix of regret and embarrassment he barely managed to hide.

To the other side stood a broad-shouldered man with narrow eyes and a posture that radiated hostility—Mbuya Ombwe. The third ranker next to him, his father and the Ombwe patriarch, regarded Erik warily. He exuded an unmistakable air of disdain, barely bothering to conceal his distaste at having to wait.

Naeku straightened her posture, stepping forward with a mixture of regal poise and naked fury. She pointed her spear at them in a clear sign of hostility. "You have a lot of nerve showing up uninvited at our doorstep, Matriarch Khumalo, Elder Ombwe."

The matriarch raised an eyebrow slightly, her voice calm but with an edge of steel beneath. "Princess Naeku, you misunderstand. This is not mere discourtesy—this is a diplomatic necessity. The Khumalo demand answers. Are we no longer allies that you would reject our union for an outsider? One of uncertain lineage at that?"

She flicked a wary glance toward Erik, obviously assessing him and clearly concerned. Their spies had relayed the rumours about his strength, and she couldn't deny the feeling he gave her was worrisome. He grinned calmly back at her, unbothered by her judgment.

Naeku scoffed openly, dismissing the woman's complaints with a wave of her hand. "Your demands became irrelevant the moment you abandoned us during the invasion. Or have you forgotten how you refused to step in when the Azanian Council refused our request for aid?"

The woman's jaw tightened, anger flashing through her eyes for an instant. "It was complicated—"

"Was it?" Naeku interjected coldly, her voice sharp. "Tell me, how complicated was your decision when you knew exactly the consequences your inaction would bring?"

A brief flicker of discomfort appeared in Kudzai's eyes, but he remained silent, gaze fixed on the ground. Beside him, the matriarch's eyes narrowed dangerously, but she did not respond, clearly caught between anger and diplomatic restraint.

With tension thickening, Elder Ombwe loudly cleared his throat. "We care little about your personal dramas, Princess Naeku. The Ombwe Clan has more pressing concerns."

Turning sharply, Naeku met the man's challenging gaze, hostility radiating off her in waves. "And what would that be, Elder? It surely isn't marriage. Or did you forget my response last time?"

"It's not about marriage this time," Mbuya interrupted rudely, stepping forward before his father could respond.

His sneer deepened as he glanced at Erik. "The Packlands won't recognize your right to rule alongside some outsider who appeared out of nowhere, even if he is a noble shapeshifter. Our lands border your empire; your weakness affects us directly. You must reconsider—or face consequences."

Naeku's eyes flashed dangerously, her grip on the spear tightening visibly. Erik, however, chuckled darkly, drawing their attention to him.

"You seem quite confident throwing threats around," Erik remarked calmly as he rolled his large shoulders. He took a deliberate step forward, voice deceptively casual. "But you've greatly misread the situation if you believe anyone here fears your empty threats."

Mbuya bristled, eyes narrowing with hostility. "Bold words from a nobody. Who are you to talk to—"

"Who am I?" Erik grinned confidently, the mere weight of his voice easily overshadowing Mbuya as his words cut sharply across the murmurs of the assembled crowd. "I'm the one who saved the Enkarians and faced the hunters alongside them when you and your 'noble shapeshifters' hid behind your borders, trembling like leaves!"

As he talked, his pressure began to surge, and his omnisense fully enveloped Mbuya, causing the brash young man to tremble, his eyes widening. His eyes twitched as his muscles locked in place. He instinctively activated his werepanther form, but it didn't help even a bit.

Erik's arms were crossed in front of his chest, obviously unconcerned and not in any kind of battle stance. "I'm the one your precious Packlands are obviously concerned about! But if you insist on testing me..." he shrugged lazily despite widening his grin and increasing his pressure. "I'm happy to educate you… boy."

By now, Mbuya was groaning desperately. His knees were already buckling, only barely able to withstand the pressure for now. Yet, impressively, his eyes continued spitting fire at Erik.

"Enough!" his father, Tafadzwa Ombwe, growled with narrowed eyes. He grabbed his son's shoulder and countered Erik's pressure with relative ease. Mbuya instantly gasped and staggered.

"What do you think you're doing?!" he snarled at Erik. "You dare pressure my son?! A noble of the Packlands?!"

"Hah!" Erik barked humorously, now turning his attention towards Tafadzw. "That pathetic, weak, mewling little brat of a son of yours not only spoke rudely to my fiance but as good as the declared war on our people! He's lucky his head is still on his shoulders!"

Tafadzwa's eyes widened in shock. His body almost instantly turned into that of a werepanther as lightning started crackling on his body. "You—!"

"I advise you to tread very carefully, Tafadzwa," Erik interrupted him with a growl, now finally becoming serious as his body changed, too. In less than a moment, he'd turned into his werewolf form, activated his armour, took his hammer from storage, and swung it over his shoulder.

Icy-white lightning danced on his claws as he slowly trod down the palace steps towards Tafadzwa with narrowed eyes. "Unless you take back your son's words, I'm going to assume the Packlands truly are planning to declare war on us. If that's the case, I wouldn't mind dealing a massive blow to your forces right here and now, you know?"

With every step Erik took, the power thrumming around him increased. More and more thundersnow sparks appeared to fizzle around him. Everyone around could feel the difference between his icy-white lightning and Tafadzwa's regular, purplish version.

Tafadzwa, still with his hand on his son's shoulder, snarled instinctively. He felt Erik's threat and was both shocked and alarmed by Erik's strange armour and magically appearing hammer. He also glanced at Enkai in the back. Still, he refused to back down so easily.

"You wouldn't dare attack a diploma—"

"Don't even try that shit!" Erik smirked, not stopping his gait. "You came here uninvited, made a scene, and threatened us! I refute your claim! You're not here for diplomacy! You're here for a veiled attempt at intimidation, and I'll happily show the entire Packlands the futility of such a thing!"

Tafadzwa breathed heavily, his eyes spitting fire. A confrontation seemed inevitable…