The Alpha's Regret: Return Of The Betrayed Luna-Chapter 382 Last Leg
In this way, every time Leviβs group saw Gregβs 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. π³πΏππππ²ππ»ππππ₯.ππ π
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 Leviβs 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 didnβt. 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, Leviβs 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 β idealistic, even foolish β 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 Gregβs men head-on, to buy time for his comrades by taking as many of those rogues down with him as he could.
But he couldnβt. 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 wasnβt giving them a choice.
"Brothers, donβt fret. We did a great job. Even if I die, Iβll see you in the afterlife. Iβll 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 Gregβs rogues.
By now, Gregβs dozen men had been reduced to six, five if you didnβt count Greg himself. On Leviβs side, only three warriors remained standing, which meant it was nearly two enemies for every one of them. Worse, Gregβs men were still in good shape, only winded from the chase, while Leviβs group was running on their last breath.
They all knew it wouldnβt be long before Gregβs 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 captainβs 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 youβre crying so ugly in front of me? Stop it already... Coughβ" 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 againβ
"Run... slightly to the east..."
It wasnβt just a sound this time. It felt like a reminder, no, a clue. And that weak, barely audible voice belonged to Levi.
"Beta Levi! Youβre 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 βrun to the eastβ? And why would he use up what little strength he had left just to say that?
Even so, the Captain didnβt 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 Gregβs men didnβt 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 wouldnβt have forced himself awake unless it truly mattered.
"I can see the rats! After them!"
It just so happened that at that exact moment, Gregβs 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.
"Iβve already killed three! Leave the big one to me, Iβll chop off his head and give it to you to play soccer with later!" one of them jeered.
Leviβs group heard the taunt loud and clear. It was obvious their pursuers werenβt taking them seriously. And why would they? Despite losing a few of their own, Gregβs 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 isnβt flawless," one of them sneered. "Just watch me take one alive. Weβll break him first, weβll make him into our bitch, make him crawl for us before we end him."
"I havenβt 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 peopleβs fear. Gender didnβt 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 hadnβt been so mangled, he might even have considered using those corpses as his sexual toys to release his desire, and heβd have indulged in cruelties most wouldnβt even whisper about.
As his voice carried back to Leviβs 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 didnβt know whether the bastards were taunting them on purpose β trying to bait them into losing control so the pursuers wouldnβt have to go so far to go after them and let them come over themselves.
