Chapter 93
Ivan's POV
My name is Ivan Price, and I'm eighteen years old.
Truth be told, our pack used to be something—not huge, but we had our own territory, our own rules. That was a long time ago, though. Before I was even born, the Blood River Pack swept through like a storm and swallowed our lands whole.
Since then, my father Frank Price and I have been drifting.
Father used to be our pack's lead warrior—that's the only skill he's got worth mentioning. He can't do business, doesn't know herbs, can't build houses. He only knows how to fight. During those years dodging Blood River's hunters across the wastelands, I witnessed his combat skills firsthand: clean, efficient, every punch honed through a thousand battles.
I grew up watching him fight, and through sheer exposure, I picked up quite a bit myself.
Eventually we settled in the Lightning Wolf Pack's detention zone. The place is full of rogues from various packs—some conquered like us, some exiled for crimes, others just sick of pack life. We all made do on this land, trading goods, scraping by. Life wasn't comfortable, but at least we survived.
The detention zone had all kinds. Trade and culture took root here. My mind worked faster than Father's—I could observe, think, learn from others' businesses.
One day, an idea struck me.
"Dad," I said, sitting in our ramshackle cabin while he mended leather armor, "why don't we open a fighting gym?"
Father looked up, brow furrowing. "A fighting gym?"
"Yeah," I grew more excited, "your combat skills are one of a kind in the detention zone. We could teach people who want to learn—charge some fees. Better than sitting around burning through savings, right?"
Father stayed silent for a long time, then shook his head. "That'll bring trouble."
"It won't," I insisted. "We're not breaking any detention zone rules. As long as we don't cross boundaries or cause problems, Lightning Pack won't bother us."
Father looked at me, hesitation and doubt flickering in his eyes.
Finally, he sighed. "Let's give it a shot."
---
We spent every penny we had.
Father and I went into the forest to gather lumber, hauling it back piece by piece, building bit by bit. The nearby rogues saw us working and pitched in—some helped nail boards, others moved stones, some brought tools.
The rogues in the detention zone all had different pasts, but everyone understood one truth: only by helping each other could we survive on this land.
The gym was finally finished.
I hung a wooden sign by the entrance with "Price Fighting Gym" carved into it. Father stood at the doorway, staring at the crude wooden structure, something complicated passing through his eyes.
"We're open," I clapped his shoulder. "We're gonna make this work."
Reality slapped me in the face pretty quick.
Business sucked. Lightning Pack's warriors had their own Betas leading training—they didn't need to come to the detention zone to learn fighting. And most rogues in the detention zone cared more about trade and commerce—they wanted to know how to make more money, how to establish themselves, not how to throw punches.
I sat at the gym entrance, staring at the empty space, feeling pretty damn discouraged.
Father said nothing, just quietly polished his gloves.
---
Until one day, everything changed.
I was wandering the streets when I heard shouting. Following the sound, I saw a she-wolf pinned to the ground, her mate beating her.
The male kept pounding her with his fists, cursing all the while. The she-wolf curled up on the ground, completely unable to fight back, only able to whimper in pain.
People stood around watching. Not one stepped in to stop it.
I couldn't take it.
"Stop!" I rushed forward, grabbing the male's arm. "What the hell are you doing?"
He whipped around, glaring viciously. "None of your damn business! She's my mate, I'll discipline her however I want!"
"She's your mate, not your slave," I said coldly. "You hit her again, I won't be nice about it."
The male sneered, released the she-wolf, and walked away.
The she-wolf shakily stood up, looking at me with eyes full of fear and gratitude.
"Why... why did you help me?" she asked quietly.
I crouched down, meeting her gaze. "Because no one should be treated like that."
I brought her back to the gym.
When Father saw me return with a battered she-wolf, he froze, then frowned.
"What are you planning?" he asked.
"I want to teach her to fight," I said. "So that bastard can't push her around anymore."
Father was silent for a long time, then sighed. "Alright."
That she-wolf became the gym's first student.
At first Father hesitated—he'd never taught a female to fight before. But desperate for income, he started teaching anyway. She learned seriously, practicing every move with dedication.
Gradually, I realized this kind of oppression wasn't rare.
Many she-wolves in the detention zone wanted to learn combat skills—they didn't want to just cook and clean. They wanted to protect themselves, to have the ability to fight back.
The gym's enrollment grew. Our classes got bigger and bigger.
Until Jordan showed up.
---
Jordan was the Gamma's son, always throwing his noble status around, bullying rogues in the detention zone. He looked down on us, thought we were all scum unworthy of living on Lightning Pack land.
That day he showed up at the gym entrance with his cronies, pointing at our newly built structure and shouting, "You shouldn't be teaching she-wolves combat skills!"
I stood at the door, staring coldly at him. "That's not in the detention zone regulations."
Jordan's face flushed red. "What about this building then? The regulations clearly say you can't build across the boundary!"
I pointed at the white lime powder line on the ground. "We didn't cross it."
Jordan sneered. He grabbed a bamboo pole, walked about ten paces forward, and casually drew a new boundary line on the ground.
"How about now?" He looked at me provocatively. "You're over the line. Tear it down!"
Anger surged in my chest.
Jordan's thugs were about to rush forward, and the rogues on our side started getting agitated. The atmosphere turned explosive.
I stepped forward, blocking the gym entrance.
"I challenge you!" I shouted.
The crowd instantly fell silent.
Jordan narrowed his eyes, a sinister smile curling his lips. "Fine."
He rolled his wrists, contempt filling his gaze.
"Let's make this quick," Jordan glanced at the sky where dark clouds hung low. "Don't want the rain getting me wet."
I took a deep breath and fell into fighting stance.
---
The dark clouds pressed lower, thunder rumbling deep within them.
I spoke slowly, my voice cutting through the silent crowd.
"Every rogue who joins Lightning Wolf Pack swears an oath to the Alpha, becoming part of Lightning Pack!" I stared at Jordan. "The Alpha said we'd be treated equally. Why are you breaking that oath?"
Jordan sneered. "Oath? You scum think you deserve to talk about oaths?"
His words dripped with insult and mockery.
"You think just because you swore an oath, you can really establish yourselves here? Dream on! You rogues will always be bottom-feeding trash!"
I didn't answer, just kept my eyes locked on him.
Jordan struck first. He charged at me, fist whistling through the air.
I dodged sideways, countering with a punch to his ribs. Jordan grunted, stumbling back two steps.
"That all you got?" I said coldly.
Jordan's expression darkened. He came at me again, this time more viciously.
But after Father's training, my combat skills were already refined.
I completely dominated Jordan's offense—every time he threw a punch, I blocked it perfectly; every time he tried to counter, I found an opening.
Rain began falling, pattering on the ground.
"You're nothing," Jordan panted, still running his mouth. "Think you've won? Wait till my father hears about this—you scum won't survive!"
I ignored his trash talk, just kept attacking.
My final punch landed on Jordan's jaw.
He hit the ground, rain and mud splashing across his body.
I stood over him, looking down. "You done?"
Jordan lay there, not answering.
The rain grew heavier.
I turned to leave.
That's when I heard a low growl behind me.
I whipped around to see Jordan had shifted into wolf form, lunging straight at me!
His eyes blazed with madness and killing intent—he wanted me dead!
In that instant, a voice suddenly echoed in my mind.
"Watch out!"
It was a deep, commanding voice, as if rising from the depths of my soul.
My body reacted on instinct. I spun around, dodging Jordan's lethal strike.
Thunder roared louder in the sky, like it could crack open any second.
Jordan's wolf kept attacking. I could only dodge. Just as I was about to be cornered, I suddenly felt a massive surge of power welling up inside me.
"It's time," the voice in my head spoke again.
I took a deep breath, leaped up, and flipped onto Jordan's back. I held him down tight, feeling that power flooding through me.
"Why break your oath!" I demanded, the question tearing from my soul.
My body began to change—bones restructuring, muscles expanding, black fur sprouting from beneath my skin.
Jordan's wolf went nearly feral, thrashing desperately, face twisted. But the weight on his back grew heavier and heavier...
Right then, lightning finally struck from the sky!
BOOM—!
The bolt hit us both directly!
Smoke instantly billowed up, obscuring everyone's view.
I heard Father calling my name from the crowd: "Ivan! Ivan!"
The smoke slowly cleared.
When vision returned, everyone stared with wide, shocked eyes.
A pitch-black wolf stood at the center of the lightning strike. Its fur shimmered eerily in the rain, as if still crackling with residual electricity.
Beneath its paws lay Jordan, unconscious—his body charred black, chest still faintly rising and falling.
I slowly shifted back to human form. Rain streamed down my face, mixing with sweat and dirt.
Everyone stared at me in shock. No one dared speak.
Father burst from the crowd. He ran to me, reaching out to touch my face, to check if I was hurt.
But the moment his hand touched my skin, it was like he'd been shocked. He jerked it back.
"Dad..." I looked at him, feeling dazed. "I'm fine."
Father was so shocked he could barely speak. "You... you..."
He looked at me, then at Jordan's charred body on the ground, completely stunned.
I was pretty confused myself. Where did that power come from?
Why did I suddenly awaken? Why did lightning hit us both, leaving Jordan fried to a crisp while I didn't have a scratch?
I thought about that voice in my head—the one that warned me at the critical moment.
"By the way," I muttered to myself, "what should I call you?"
Silence in my mind for a moment.
Then that deep, commanding voice spoke again.
"Zeus."