I Became A Zompirewolf



Ashton stood in the simulation room, his muscles tense and his sword ready. He had been training for days, honing his skills against the simulated Xyran grunts, and he was determined to defeat them finally.

Flintmace and Vulcan watched as he donned his gear and entered the simulation. The room flickered and shimmered, transforming into a battlefield on a distant planet. The Xyran grunts materialised before him, their sharp claws and gleaming teeth bared.

Flintmace and Vulcan looked on, their expressions unreadable. They had watched Ashton struggle and fail time and time again, and they were starting to wonder if he would ever succeed.

But Ashton was determined not to let them down. He took a deep breath, steadied his nerves, and charged forward.

The grunts were waiting for him, their weapons raised and their faces twisted in snarls of rage. Ashton weaved and dodged, his sword flashing through the air as he tried to find an opening.

The grunts were fast and skilled, and they moved in unison, their attacks coordinated and relentless. Ashton was forced to constantly shift his footing and grip on his sword, trying to keep up with their movements.

At first, it seemed like he was doomed to fail yet again. The grunts were too strong, too fast, too skilled. But Ashton refused to give up. He fought with all his might, channelling his frustration and anger into every strike.

As the battle raged on, Ashton started to feel a glimmer of hope. He was beginning to get a feel for the grunts' movements, and he was finding gaps in their defences that he could exploit.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of fighting, Ashton saw his opportunity. One of the grunts had overextended himself, leaving his flank open for a split second.

Ashton lunged forward, his sword flashing through the air. It connected with the grunt's side, and the creature stumbled back, stunned.

Ashton didn't waste a moment. He followed up with a flurry of strikes, his sword moving in a blur as he attacked the grunt from all angles. The creature tried to defend itself, but it was too late. Ashton's blows were too powerful, too precise.

With a final, resounding strike, Ashton brought his sword down on the grunt's head, cleaving it in two. The creature fell to the ground, dead.

But the battle was far from over as more grunts appeared to stop him. Ashton drew his sword, ready to fight, but he knew his chances of winning were slim. 

The grunts were too fast, too powerful, and too numerous. Ashton had tried every strategy he could think of, but nothing had worked, and he was running out of ideas.

The grunts charged at him, their snarls echoing across the battlefield. Ashton parried their attacks with his sword, his muscles straining with the effort. But he knew that he couldn't keep this up for long.

"First, my summons, and now they banned me from using Seraph's crystal. These mother-"

"We can hear you, you know?" Vulcan called out.

"Why do you think I was cursing you?" Ashton barked back. "Hm... maybe I should try using that..."

With a deep breath, Ashton let go of Balmond, telling it to do its own thing while he went ahead and did something of his own. The Soulblade was all too happy to obey its master and immediately began hacking and slashing the grunts. 

Meanwhile, Ashton focused on his inner strength, on the raw power that lay dormant within him. He felt his body changing, growing larger, stronger, more fearsome. His skin darkened, his muscles bulged, and fur sprouted across his body.

Ashton opened his eyes and saw the Xyran grunts recoil in terror. They had never seen anything like this before; they had faced warriors and soldiers but never a Zompirewolf.

Ashton let out a roar and charged at the grunts. They tried to dodge his attacks, but he was too fast, too powerful. Ashton swiped at them with his massive claws, tearing through their thick hides. He bit into them with his sharp fangs, rending flesh and bone.

The grunts swarmed around him, their claws and teeth biting into his flesh. But Ashton was too strong, too fierce. He shook them off with ease, throwing them aside like rag dolls. He was a force of nature, a primal beast unleashed upon the battlefield.

The grunts began to fall back, retreating from Ashton's onslaught. As they realised, they had been outclassed by a single man. 

"Oh, now you wanna run?" Ashton roared, relishing the fear in the eyes of the grunts. "I don't think so, you fuckers!"

Ashton chased them down, his eyes blazing with fury. He knew that he had to finish them off, once and for all. He caught up to them and let out another roar, a challenge to their bravery.

He used all his abilities in harmony. The werewolf abilities were used to mark and track them down and unleash powerful blows, while the vampire genes allowed him to fly and mark as many enemies as he could. 

As for the zombie genes, they ensured he didn't tire out of exhaustion like the grunts had been hoping. 

Having no way out, the grunts tried to fight back, but it was too late. Ashton was too powerful, too unstoppable. He tore through them, one by one, until there was only one left standing.

Ashton approached the last grunt, his massive jaws opened wide. The grunt trembled, realising that he was facing certain death. But Ashton stopped and looked at him with pity and disdain.

"Looks like they finally stopped spawning," Ashton mumbled, looking around the grunt. "Guess you're the last guy-"

Ashton was about to end the grunt when Balmond whizzed past his head, severing the grunt's head. 

"...thanks for the help, Balmond." Ashton smiled.

The battlefield fell silent, except for Ashton's heavy breathing. He slowly returned to his human form, his muscles aching, his skin slick with sweat. At the same time, Flintmace and Vulcan rushed to his side, clapping.

Neither of them wanted to tell Ashton that dealing with the grunts in real life was much easier. Nor did they clarify that they had enhanced the difficulty of the simulation past the recommended limit just to test Ashton's ability to accept defeat.