556 DLVI. The Faceless Warrior (2/2)
The trousers tore in the back and a long, bushy tail sprang out of it, waving in the air.
”Grrroooargh!”
An incredibly loud roar made the walls of the room vibrate and after it, Bloodfang revealed his true form, clutching the table in his hands, shattering it and pointing his frightful red eyes at the enemy.
”Wow! Hihihihi! That was so scenic! Beautiful, my compliments!” the enemy exclaimed, who, without getting up from his chair, moved his torso forward and put a hand gently on the table.
Sticking only the fingertips to the wooden surface and keeping the palm of his hand detached, the Keeper activated his unique skill: with the same visual effect as a water drop falling into a calm body of water and causing circular waves to propagate, the surface of the table moved as if it was made of water and the waves propagated towards Thyrius, which being in the midst of anger, did not notice what was going to happen.
Just as the Packmaster charged forward, pushing with his arms on the huge dining room table, two giants wooden hands appeared from beneath him and forcefully grabbed his wrists, blocking his advance.
Having already fully jumped on his legs, Bloodfang found himself in mid-air with his arms anchored to the table and despite his incredible reflexes, due to the force of gravity, he fell with his back on it, emitting an incredible thud.
At the exact moment the big wolf's back touched the wood, the Keeper's hand rotated slightly and two other giant wooden hands popped up from the center of the table, crossing their fingers on Thyrius' abdomen, blocking him completely.
”Grrroaaargh! Let me go! Graargh!”
In just two moves, the most powerful warrior of the Claws Of Fenrir, had his arms and back locked and, unable to move, he waved more and more, trying to let those huge hands made of wood loosen their grip.
They, having been generated of the same material as the table and being much larger and more robust than the human ones, were too strong, even for him.
”So? Is it over yet? Hihihi! You're not a great playmate, my little wolfy man!” the Keeper chuckled, with one hand resting on the table and the other repeatedly banging its fingers on it, expressing his mental disease.