Howl—

The military camp at the border of Louisiana and Texas.

The howling of wolves echoed in the dense forest and mountains, like communication before a wolf pack hunt.

"Sir, did you... did you hear that?"

A soldier clad in striking red garb trembled as he spoke.

The officer mustered his courage and feigned composure, saying, "What are you afraid of? The gentlemen of the Saint George’s Knight Order are stationed right here in the camp. If those foolish wolf cubs dare to attack, they’ll surely meet their doom!"

"Our attire is too conspicuous. The local soldiers have long switched to new-style uniforms, but our colonial division is still wearing this outdated attire."

During the Boer War, the Sun Never Sets Empire suffered severely from Boer guerrilla tactics, prompting a transition from traditional red uniforms used for over two hundred years. However, this change evidently hadn’t reached the Thirteen Colonies.

Now the Thirteen Colonies are far from just thirteen states; they’ve successively annexed New France and the Louisiana Governorate, expelling all foreign colonial forces from the East Coast of North America.

Currently, the enemies faced by the armed forces of the Thirteen Colonies are merely the natives and the wild fierce beasts, making immediate adoption of new equipment unnecessary.

"Heh, those wolf cubs have sharp eyes, day or night makes no difference to them. Whatever military uniform we wear is equally indistinguishable to them."

A soldier in red rubbed the silver cross he held, muttering, "Not all Texans belong to the Wolf Race; those Hispanics, natives, French from Louisiana, the Dixielanders, they don’t view us as their saviors."

"Alright, enough chatter. Stay alert. If the enemy attacks, I’ll notify the armored battalion boys immediately. Their chainsaw swords will tear those wolf cubs to pieces in no time!"

The officer barked his orders and left, leaving a group of trembling soldiers in red to whisper among themselves.

"Do those big iron machines of the armored battalion really work?"

"They should, right? They’re secret weapons developed by Big Ben Science Academy, never used in battle before."

"Never used in battle? So isn’t coming here just an experiment?"

The soldiers in red were deeply worried; their opponents, after all, were legendary werewolves, much scarier than those wild fierce beasts. They doubted if their firearms would be of any use.

After all, according to the legends, werewolves only fear silver and sunlight. With ordinary weapons, even if they’re dismembered, they would gradually reassemble unless a silver stake pierces their skull.

As time passed, the echoing howls gradually subsided, and the soldiers in red, forcing themselves awake, began to feel drowsy.

But then, a harrowing scream suddenly rang out in the camp.

Floodlights immediately swung around, and the soldiers in red saw only a shadow and the officer left on the ground, disemboweled, with a line of terrifying Latin inscribed in blood.

"Intruders shall all be buried here."

Many soldiers in red trembled, but just then, the sound of heavy footsteps emerged, accompanied by rolling smoke. One by one, massive war machines, equipped with riveted armor and carrying giant steam-power furnaces on their shoulders, strode out from the barracks.

There were twelve in total, six wielding huge chainsaw long swords, and another six carrying small cannons.

In the chest position of the war machines, a window with a glass pane revealed the "Armored Battalion Soldier" operating the machine inside.

"Such dense darkness!"

Mounted on a white horse, a knight clad in medieval armor appeared amidst these armored soldiers, as if traversing through the boundary of time.

His body radiated holy light, and the chest armor bore an exquisite image of Saint George slaying the dragon, his face calm despite the looming Alps.

"Come forth, fiends!"

The Holy Knight raised his silver-white riding spear, pointing towards the dense forest.

Only to see, there, beams of eerie green light appeared among the woods; at a glance, it was unclear how many werewolves lurked within.

"Playing tricks."

The knight smirked, the holy brilliance on his body shot towards the sky, illuminating the dark forest instantly.

In the light, pairs of eerie green eyes belonged solely to packs of gray steppe wolves; just one of them was a true werewolf.

The werewolf, having its reality seen through, wasted no time in turning to flee.

"Clever dog, if there were truly so many pureblood wolf cubs, you would have attacked long ago."

The Holy Knight spoke slowly, his demeanor relaxed, lightly nudging his horse’s flanks, and the white horse under him elegantly stepped forward, sprouting wings with blood lineage, carrying him seemingly slowly yet swiftly, disappearing before everyone’s eyes in the blink of an eye.

The gray steppe wolves rushed to intercept, but although they were fierce beasts stronger than ordinary ones, they couldn’t hinder him in the slightest, watching helplessly as the Holy Knight swiftly approached the werewolf.

"That gentleman from Saint George’s Knight Order is riding a pegasus!"

The soldiers in red exclaimed in surprise.

As the burning sensation intensified behind him, and the surrounding light grew brighter, the werewolf felt his whole body start to catch fire, he clenched his teeth and cursed, "These damn Brits, sending a Holy Knight; I must tell Clan Leader Juliano this news."

A Holy Knight in the enemy forces indicated that this massive invasion by the Thirteen Colonies was no longer an initiative by the colonial government or local groups but had received UK support or at least the Anglican Church backing.

A genuine war was about to explode!

The werewolf had reached full speed yet sensed the enemy growing closer.

"Die, evil beast!"

Unnoticed, the knight riding the pegasus had appeared beside the werewolf, traveling alongside him.

Raising his riding spear, he showed a trace of disdain on his face; as the Great Knight of Saint George’s Knight Order under the Anglican Church, he had executed countless dark creatures in his life, holding no sympathy toward them.

Bang—

The silver riding spear was knocked aside.

A figure wrapped entirely in intricate armor slowly emerged from the darkness, his mount snorting, holding a golden long spear that shone with divine artifact brilliance.

"Who are you? Why hinder me from slaying the evil beast?"

The Holy Knight’s expression was tense; the newcomer’s equipment was lavish, and their combat power was evidently extraordinary.

Having been impeded by the newly arrived knight, the werewolf quickly seized the opportunity to flee far away, angering the Holy Knight, turning his face darker.

"Who exactly are you?"

Losa.