The Alpha's Regret: Return Of The Betrayed Luna
Chapter 382 Last Leg
In this way, every time Leviās group saw Gregās men fall one by one, a fragile spark of hope would flicker in their hearts, only for Greg and his remaining forces to close in on them again. It was a cruel cycle of relief and despair, repeated over and over, until their nerves were frayed to the edge. š³šæšššš²šš»šššš„.šš š
That was how Greg managed to corner them countless times, only to let them slip away just enough to prolong the chase.
But, of course, both sides were playing their own mental games. For Greg, it was all for his twisted amusement, a cruel test of how long they could last before breaking. For Leviās side, it was the opposite.
Every narrow escape, every fleeting victory, was not just survival; it was fuel for hope. They fought to keep that fragile light alive, even as Greg tried to snuff it out again and again.
Of course, while Greg treated all those traps as mere toys, his men didnāt. No matter how cautious they became after the first one fell, they could never completely guard themselves against the next. In the end, the battlefield turned into a scene of mutual destruction, but even so, Leviās side was still hopelessly outnumbered.
The fact that they had made it this far was already a miracle.
The warriors protecting Levi began to quietly decide among themselves who would be the next to sacrifice their lives for the greater good.
It sounded noble ā idealistic, even foolish ā but in truth, they had no choice. They had to make themselves believe it. If they could convince themselves that their deaths had meaning, then perhaps, in those final moments, they could find a sliver of comfort... a reason to face the end without despair.
And this was why their Captain, the strongest among them, fell silent, his throat tightening as he fought back tears. He wanted to be the one to face Gregās men head-on, to buy time for his comrades by taking as many of those rogues down with him as he could.
But he couldnāt. In the end, he was their last line of defense, the shield that stood between Levi and death itself.
None of them wanted to die. Not a single one. But Greg wasnāt giving them a choice.
"Brothers, donāt fret. We did a great job. Even if I die, Iāll see you in the afterlife. Iāll just go first and brag to everyone about my good deed," one of the warriors joked weakly as he pressed a hand against his side, trying to stop the heavy bleeding from a deep gash clawed open by one of Gregās rogues.
By now, Gregās dozen men had been reduced to six, five if you didnāt count Greg himself. On Leviās side, only three warriors remained standing, which meant it was nearly two enemies for every one of them. Worse, Gregās men were still in good shape, only winded from the chase, while Leviās group was running on their last breath.
They all knew it wouldnāt be long before Gregās people caught up again, and when that happened, one or two of them would have to stay behind to hold them off. So, as they ran, they discussed who would take the next stand, trying to lift the mood with jokes and laughter, though their captainās trembling voice and silent tears made it nearly impossible. In their hearts, they were already saying their goodbyes.
"Captain... such a grown man, and yet youāre crying so ugly in front of me? Stop it already... Coughā" the warrior tried to joke, but the words broke off as he coughed up a mouthful of clotted blood.
"Conserve your energy and stop talking nonsense. Backup will be here soon," the captain croaked, trying to steady his voice. He bit back his sobs, but his words still came out as a trembling whisper, fragile and full of grief.
"Run... slightly to the east..."
As the group exchanged their heartbreaking words, the Captain suddenly stiffened. A faint voice cut through the exchanges, fragile yet distinct. While running, he raised a hand sharply to silence the others.
Then, it came againā
"Run... slightly to the east..."
It wasnāt just a sound this time. It felt like a reminder, no, a clue. And that weak, barely audible voice belonged to Levi.
"Beta Levi! Youāre conscious?!"
The three warriors were shocked, yet relief flooded their faces upon realizing Levi had regained consciousness. But confusion quickly followed. What did he mean by ārun to the eastā? And why would he use up what little strength he had left just to say that?
Even so, the Captain didnāt hesitate. He immediately pivoted and changed direction, sprinting east without question. The other two had no choice but to follow, even without understanding what was happening. They were already running on their last legs; if Gregās men didnāt kill them, their injuries surely would.
So they chose to trust him. Whatever awaited them in the east, they would find out when they got there. After all, Levi wouldnāt have forced himself awake unless it truly mattered.
"I can see the rats! After them!"
It just so happened that at that exact moment, Gregās men had caught up again. Their lips curled into wide, feral grins, the kind of grin predators wore when their prey stumbled right back into sight.
"Iāve already killed three! Leave the big one to me, Iāll chop off his head and give it to you to play soccer with later!" one of them jeered.
Leviās group heard the taunt loud and clear. It was obvious their pursuers werenāt taking them seriously. And why would they? Despite losing a few of their own, Gregās men showed no hint of grief or camaraderie.
To them, the fallen were just numbers, irrelevant casualties in a blood sport where the only thing that mattered was how many kills they could boast about later.
"Ha! You might have the most kills, but you also have the most wounds too; your strength isnāt flawless," one of them sneered. "Just watch me take one alive. Weāll break him first, weāll make him into our bitch, make him crawl for us before we end him."
"I havenāt had fuck these days, and I am so dying to just stick my meatrod somewhere else aside from my callused hands..." He cackled like a madman who enjoyed other peopleās fear. Gender didnāt matter to him; only domination and his carnal needs.
His grin widened into something feral; he sped up as if the hunt itself thrilled him. If the dead hadnāt been so mangled, he might even have considered using those corpses as his sexual toys to release his desire, and heād have indulged in cruelties most wouldnāt even whisper about.
As his voice carried back to Leviās group, the Captain and the two remaining warriors fell deadly quiet; werewolves with heightened senses, they heard everything those bastards talked about, their faces went black with anger.
"Captain." One of the warriors ground his molars so hard they clicked. They didnāt know whether the bastards were taunting them on purpose ā trying to bait them into losing control so the pursuers wouldnāt have to go so far to go after them and let them come over themselves.