The battle was still amidst in the city. Werewolves were difficult to track, and most were unpredictable. Even the National Security forces had trouble dealing with the situation.
Baldur leaped from building to building, hunting a small pack of werewolves in the streets. As they came to a halt at a cross-road surrounded by towering buildings, Baldur leapt into the air. Soaring upward, feeling the breeze rushing past his cold skin.
He soared downward toward the cross-road, where the Lycans had stood. Within slow motion, Baldur carefull aimed his Gunsword at each of the 5 targets. He took three out, each one disintigrating into ash as the silver-infused lead bullet shot through them.
The remaining two were confused. Baldur activating his magik dived down in the center and landed on his feet. A rush of purple energy errupted from his hands, hit the remaining werewolves like a tidal wave. Dark Bomb as this technique was known as. He smiled in satisfaction.
"When will Harker Reinforcements arive? I hate to spoil the fun for all of them..."
He held his Gunsword over his shoulder and walked off into the burning streets. "Bloodhound is among them... somewhere. I can smell it! He cant be too far!"