Read Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Novel by Only For You Updated 2025 -26 - Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3107

Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren) Chapter 3107

Andrew’s greatsword, wrapped in holy light, slashed again and again. Yet the blows landing on the colossal wolf had almost no effect. At most, they scorched Ragnar’s fur, leaving no real damage behind.

Despite his massive size, Ragnar’s speed and agility were completely undiminished.

As the giant wolf charged, Andrew slid low across the ground, slipping beneath Ragnar’s belly. For a split second, he thought he had escaped.

Then the massive tail whipped around.

Andrew could no longer hold on. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he was sent flying through the air.

The savage giant advanced step by step, each footfall driving deep craters into the ground. Andrew lay face-down, motionless.

Unnoticed by anyone, a blood-red bolt of lightning flickered from the hand gripping his sword.

At first, it was nothing more than a tiny spark.

Then it grew.

Crackling violently, the spark expanded until it was the size of a palm.

Primordial Thunder.

The giant wolf, advancing to devour Andrew, suddenly halted.

For reasons it couldn’t explain, a surge of danger flooded Ragnar’s heart.

But over a thousand years of life, slaughter had been etched into his instincts. Fear had surfaced only a handful of times. Shaking his head, Ragnar buried the unease once more.

He opened his massive jaws, leapt into the air, and crashed downward, intent on erasing Andrew completely.

Before Andrew even rose to his feet, blood-red lightning erupted from Godslayer.

A towering crimson beam shot skyward, slamming directly into the descending wolf.

The strike hit Ragnar squarely in the abdomen.

Ragnar was a Werewolf Progenitor—effectively immortal.

But immortality did not mean invincibility.

The abdomen of his true wolf form was one of its softer points. Primordial Thunder could even kill Fenrir, the First Werewolf Progenitor.

How could Ragnar possibly endure it?

A piercing, agonized howl tore from his throat.

Andrew’s body slid across the ground for hundreds of feet before he launched himself into the air, his expression icy, tinged with ruthless resolve.

Once more, the tip of his sword blazed with crimson thunder as it crashed down.

Ragnar was struck again by the Primordial Thunder. His massive body locked stiff before slamming into the ground.

“Arcturus’ Primordial Thunder… and it’s from the source.”

Ragnar’s voice trembled with panic and venomous hatred.

His enormous wolf form leapt hundreds of feet away before he snarled at Andrew, “Who are you? What did the Highland Tribe do? Why would they allow you to possess Primordial Thunder?”

As the words fell, Ragnar lowered his head and vomited massive amounts of blood, mixed with what looked like fragments of organs.

Andrew said nothing.

He simply raised his sword and attacked again.

Crimson Primordial Thunder descended from the heavens. Threads of red lightning spread across the sky, as if blood itself had flooded the air and a crimson sea were pouring down from above.

In truth, Ragnar was not gravely wounded. For a Werewolf Progenitor, any injury could regenerate instantly—even the loss of limbs.

Yet the Primordial Lightning filled him with instinctive terror.

This fear was unavoidable, carved deep into his bloodline. The First Werewolf Progenitor had died to Arcturus’ Primordial Thunder, and that mark of death was passed down forever.

Low-ranking werewolves barely felt it.

But the higher the rank—from lords to princes and ultimately progenitors—the clearer and more suffocating that fear became.

Amid furious howls, Ragnar clashed once more with the descending crimson lightning.

After unleashing a scream filled with absolute agony, the giant wolf turned and fled.

Even as he ran, red lightning continued to dance violently across his body.

“Human! I will have my revenge—endless revenge! You will die beneath my fangs!”

The curse echoed from far away.

Ragnar threw his head back and roared toward the sky once more.

Within the fortress, Edmund and the remaining werewolves felt Ragnar’s call. Though they didn’t understand why, they all turned at once, leaping from the walls and retreating in force.

The moment Ragnar fully released his progenitor aura, it became an absolute command to every werewolf.