I Only Wanted to Live, But Now I'm the Wolf God

“I… I made it?” Elias struggled to sit up, the wooden bed beneath him creaking in protest.A pungent medicinal scent filled his nostrils, choking him with its acrid sting.He lowered his head and, by the dim light filtering through the window, glanced at his arm. What he saw made his breath hitch — dense black fur bristling upright, and at the ends of his five fingers, curved claws gleaming coldly like hooked blades.A wolf’s paw! Elias’s heart trembled. Before he could even think, the fur began to recede rapidly, and the claws slowly withdrew.In moments, his arm returned to its human form, though streaked now with several dark red lines that twisted and coiled across his pale skin. “I’m alive… I finally survived!” A year ago, a mysterious panel had appeared before Elias — one only he could see, though devoid of any writing.As he sought to unravel its origins and purpose, he was diagnosed with Bone-Eroding Syndrome — a terminal illness that consumed life like maggots gnawing at bone, incurable by any means known to man. His only hope of survival was to become one of the Transcendent. In this world of countless races, some were born transcendent — beings of power and grace.For humans, however, the path to transcendence lay only through the cultivation of martial arts. Thus, martial halls filled every street and alley, and men and women alike trained in pursuit of transformation.To step into the martial path was to shed the mortal coil — to gain strength, speed, and life beyond the limits of humanity.Diseases like Bone-Eroding Syndrome would then pose no threat. But for Elias, time was a luxury he did not possess.Forget achieving martial mastery — surviving until tomorrow was uncertain enough. There were, of course, shortcuts — perilous paths that promised transcendence in a single step.The simplest among them: devour the heart of a werewolf and enter the lupine sequence, ascending at once beyond human limits.Yet that path was a gamble with death — nine deaths for every one life. For Elias, it was the only path left. Risk mattered little to a dying man. But when he inquired about acquiring such a heart, despair struck again — the heart of a werewolf fetched an astronomical price on the black market, worth billions.Even after selling everything he owned and drowning in debt, he still could not afford it. Then, when all hope seemed lost, a stranger’s number appeared on his phone.The caller offered him a werewolf’s heart at a price so low it reeked of danger. Elias knew it was suspicious.But the agony of his illness had left him no room for doubt — no time to hesitate.He gambled everything — his life itself. And, against all odds, he won. “Fortune favors you. Since you’ve succeeded, go. We’ve never met.” A deep, hoarse voice pulled Elias from his thoughts.Standing beside the bed was a figure clad entirely in black, face hidden behind a smooth white mask with only two hollow eyeholes. The Broker — the one who had sold him the heart. Elias drew a steadying breath and rose weakly from the bed. His limbs trembled, but the worst had passed.“Thank you.” The Broker tilted his head slightly, as if scrutinizing Elias.“No need for gratitude. A fair trade — nothing more.”“Payment settled, and our dealings end here.” His voice carried neither warmth nor emotion. Elias nodded, accepting the finality of it, and made for the door.At the threshold, he turned back once more. The Broker remained where he stood, motionless as a statue carved from shadow. With a long breath, Elias stepped outside.Behind him, the wooden door creaked shut with a weary sigh. “Remember,” came the muffled voice through the door,“never let the werewolves know you’ve consumed one of their hearts.” Elias paused, exhaling deeply as the night air swept away the last traces of medicinal fumes.Though his body still felt light and unsteady, power now coursed through him — wild, surging, almost untamable. He clenched his fists; his knuckles cracked softly in response.The Broker’s warning echoed in his mind. Never let the werewolves know? A chill crept up his spine. Werewolves — savage, vengeful, relentless.To devour one of their hearts was to invite certain death should they ever discover it. His earlier joy at surviving his illness dimmed, shadowed by unease.The sun was setting — the world was about to be drowned in night. Then realization struck him — tonight was the full moon. In this world, every week brought one such night, when werewolves lost control and reverted to beasts — a curse and a gift intertwined.Under the moon’s silver glow, they could temper their bodies and advance their strength. It was said that fifty full moons were needed to ascend a minor realm, and five hundred or more to transcend a major one.Each minor advancement granted a lesser innate talent; each major leap, a greater gift. Elias hurried home and barely arrived before the moon rose.He sank onto the sofa, waiting. Then, before his eyes, the once-blank panel appeared again — now inscribed with glowing words: [Talent: Lord of the Moonlight][Effect 1: Immunity to Full Moon’s Negative Influence][Effect 2: Enhanced Absorption of Moonlight Essence] Elias stared, eyes widening in disbelief.So this was his talent? The reason the panel had once been blank — because he hadn’t yet awakened? Every werewolf, upon entering the Transcendent state, awakened a unique, innate gift.Some amplified their strength, others their control over lunar power, still others possessed rarer abilities beyond imagination. He read the words carefully, heart pounding. This changed everything.To be immune to the full moon’s curse — it meant he would never lose control, never expose his nature.His chances of being discovered by other werewolves dropped dramatically. And faster absorption of moonlight? That meant growth — power — evolution, far beyond his peers. But how fast, exactly— The shrill ring of his phone shattered his thoughts. He glanced at the screen.Dr. Sterling. His physician. Elias answered. “Elias,” the doctor’s voice came low and grave, “come to the hospital in seven days. The werewolf clan is conducting inspections.” Elias’s grip tightened around the phone. His knuckles whitened.They’ve found me? Impossible. From the moment he devoured the heart to the instant of awakening, he had left no trace. “Why?” he forced himself to ask, his tone steady. “The prince of the werewolves is dead.”“They suspect someone killed him — and devoured his heart.”“The city lord has ordered all patients with rare diseases to be examined when the clan arrives.” The doctor sighed. “Foolish beasts… as if any patient would eat a werewolf’s heart. It’s suicide.” Elias’s blood ran cold. The werewolf prince… Werewolf talents and bloodlines were intertwined — the stronger the blood, the greater the gift.And his “Lord of the Moonlight” ability — that was no ordinary talent. It was royal. Could it be that the heart he consumed… belonged to the prince himself? He swallowed hard, voice carefully measured.“How will they conduct the inspection?” “How else?” the doctor replied bitterly.“In seven days, another full moon rises. When they transform, any patient who does the same… will be unmasked.”