Just call me Thor

Chapter 375: The parentage of the White Wolf King



Over thirty thousand White Wolf King corpses. Their simultaneous presence was a sight of such immense impact, so profoundly shocking, that it sent shivers down Mike's spine.

"What... happened here?"

A vague idea began to form in Mike's mind, but he decided to hear the White Wolf King's story first.

Unlike the deceitful vampires, the White Wolf King, being a werewolf, was more

straightforward. Even if he tried to lie, he wouldn't be able to pull it off. Not everyone was like Shadow Nine, a master of historical fabrication.

"Before I became a werewolf, I was human," the White Wolf King said, settling down with his legs crossed, his gaze heavy as he surveyed his own bodies around him.

Mike took out two bottles of beer, handing one to the White Wolf King.

After a swig, the White Wolf King eyed the beer curiously but didn't comment. Instead, he continued his tale.

"I had no name. I was abandoned in the wilderness, raised by wolves."

Mike's eyebrows shot up. This wasn't what he had expected at all!

The White Wolf King was raised by wolves?

Mike had initially assumed there was some connection between the White Wolf King and Remus. Now it seemed he had let his imagination run wild.

He hoped Remus was still alive.

The White Wolf King's story began simply enough.

"There was a small town in the wilderness called Wolfbane. I lived wilderness until I was six, when an old hunter caught me. He took pity on me and decided to raise me as his own. Because of my white hair and my bond with wolves, he named me White Wolf."

A rare hint of warmth softened the White Wolf King's rugged features as he spoke. This memory, it seemed, held a special place in his heart.

For the White Wolf King, the old hunter was like the sole light in a cold winter's night, illuminating his life.

"The old hunter taught me how to speak, how to read and write, how to hunt. I spent many happy years in Wolfbane, until one day, everything changed."

"The old hunter was gravely injured while hunting. He called me to his bedside and told me a secret."

A shadow fell over the White Wolf King's face.

"Lies. All lies," he muttered.

"He told me I was a chosen child, the descendant of a powerful being, a child stolen away. The pack that raised me was carefully selected. The townsfolk of Wolfbane were all werewolves. Even the old hunter who saved me was a Duke (Beta) level werewolf..."

Mike couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.

The White Wolf King's life had been built on a foundation of lies and deceit. It was as if he had been living in a Truman Show, the only real person in a world of actors!

After all these years, the White Wolf King had seemingly come to terms with his past. He continued in a calm voice, "A powerful organization wanted to cultivate a stronger Alpha. Because of my lineage, they began grooming me when I was still human."

Lineage was indeed a crucial factor for some races.

In fact, with the arrival of the Tower of Truth, powerful humans had emerged in droves. Humanity had discovered that strong lineages were more likely to produce strong individuals. It wasn't surprising that the werewolves had a similar plan.

Although it seemed rather elaborate, it was not beyond the realm of possibility, considering the werewolves' intelligence.

However, such an approach had its drawbacks. There was always the risk of creating a powerful enemy!

While Mike sympathized with the White Wolf King's plight, what was done was done.

The White Wolf King himself had moved on, so there was no need for Mike to dwell on the past.

"Did the old hunter tell you the truth about everything?" Mike asked curiously.

Perhaps, in this grand deception, the old hunter had developed genuine affection for the boy he had raised.

And in his final moments, he had chosen to reveal the truth.

The White Wolf King nodded. "He did. And he also told me about my parentage."

Mike frowned. "Your parentage?"

For a powerful organization to go to such lengths, the White Wolf King's parentage must have been extraordinary.

His father could have been an Ultimate Lord-level powerhouse, or even stronger, perhaps even a deity!

The likelihood was highest between levels 995 and 999!

If the White Wolf King's father had been weak, it wouldn't have been worth investing so many resources.

"I don't remember." The White Wolf King drained his beer and shook his head. "Like those blasted bats, my memory is a mess. I can't recall anything about my parents."

Selective amnesia, huh?

Mike didn't press further, gesturing for him to continue.

"Before he died, the old hunter told me to head east, to escape the wilderness."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"That's..." Mike sighed. "That's the last thing you should have done at that moment."

Clearly, the White Wolf King was left defenseless.

Following the old hunter's instructions and heading east would have been a recipe for disaster.

The White Wolf King's reaction confirmed Mike's suspicions.

"You're right. I shouldn't have gone east." A flicker of fear crossed his eyes. "I walked east, kept walking. I didn't have much food or water. The sun in the wilderness was brutal, and I quickly became dehydrated. My food ran out."

"Hungry and thirsty, I started hallucinating. I was on the verge of death when I encountered a wolf. It bit me. I collapsed from the wound and fell unconscious. And in my unconscious state, I transformed into a werewolf."

"When I woke up, I was back in Wolfbane. And that's when the nightmare began..."

The White Wolf King's words painted a vivid picture, transporting Mike back to that fateful night in Wolfbane.

"I still remember, it was a full moon when I woke up. The town was eerily silent, the wind as soft as fur against my skin. I stepped out of the cabin, only to find myself standing in a pool of

blood..."

"Blood. Everywhere!"

"There were no survivors, no remains, not even a single bone. Just blood. Sickening,

maddening bloodstains!"

The White Wolf King paused, a humorless smile twisting his lips.

"Every single werewolf in Wolfbane was dead."

Mike didn't need to ask what had happened to them.

He already knew the answer.

A cruel and brutal end.

"I knocked on every door, called out every familiar name, desperately searching for any sign

of life. But there was nothing. Nothing at all!"

"Then I stumbled into a clothing store and saw my reflection in the mirror. I was taller than before, my body, once on the brink of starvation in the wilderness, was now a perfect specimen of muscle and sinew. I felt an inexhaustible wellspring of energy coursing through my veins. My vision pierced the darkness, and I could easily push open locked doors."

"And my reflection... my muzzle was stained with blood. That's when I realized..."

The White Wolf King raised a hand, staring at it intently.

"In my sleep... I had eaten them all."

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Sorry, I messed up the upload of the chapters. I tried to fix it, but due to a word count limit, I

had to add some extra content. Since that's the case, let's just have a quick chat here. About

this novel—if you have any suggestions, feel free to let me know. While I can't promise to respond to every comment, I'll read them all and consider your feedback for future plot

adjustments.