Unexpected Luna 4.

 When Don saw Phelan, his eyes burned with hate. He bellowed—a sound that was somewhere between a yell, a moo, and a really loud belch. “Hey, Phelan,” She then shouted back. “Didn't I kill you already?” He pounded his fist into the dress she wore, and it crumpled like aluminum foil. A few dracaenae threw flaming javelins at her. She knocked them aside. A hellhound lunged, and she sidestepped. She could have stabbed it, but She hesitated. “This is not Mrs. O'Leary”, Don said to himself. This is an untamed wolf. It will kill me and all my friends. 

     Phelan pounced again. This time, Don brought Riptide up in a deadly arc. The hellhound disintegrated into dust and fur. He had prepared for this midnight of the moon, for he had the news already at hand.  He could see More wolves surged forward—snakes and giants and telkhines—but the wolf roared at them, and they backed off, “One on one?” He called. “Just like old times?” Phelon's nostrils quivered. She seriously needed to keep a pack of Kleenex in her armor pocket because that nose was wet and red and pretty gross.  She unstrapped her dagger and swung it around. It was beautiful in a harsh, I’m~going~to-gut~you~like~a~fish way. Each of its twin blades was shaped like an omega: —the last letter of the Greek alphabet. Maybe that was because the sword would be the last thing her victims ever saw. The shaft was about the same height as the wolf, bronze wrapped in leather. Tied around the base of each blade were plenty of bead necklaces. Don realized they were Camp Half-Blood beads—necklaces taken from defeated demigods. Don was so mad, as he imagined his eyes glowing just like the wolf's. He raised his sword. Phelan's army cheered for her from her inner self as she could only get the voice herself, but the sounds died when Don dodged her first swing and sliced her dagger in half, right between the handholds.  “Wii” she whimpered. “AAAA!” Don spun and kicked her in the snout. She staggered backward, trying to regain her footing, then lowered her head to charge. But She never got the chance. Don's sword flashed—slicing off part of Phelan's right arm, then the other. She tried to grab Don with a lot of energy, but she couldn't. He rolled away, picking up half of her broken dagger. The other wolves barked, backed up in stunned silence from as far as she could only hear the voices, making a circle around her. Phelan bellowed in rage. She was never intelligent to begin with, but now her anger made her reckless. She charged Don instead, and He ran for the edge of the corridor towards the main door, breaking through all the lines. Phelan smelled victory. She thought that Don was trying to get away. Her minions cheered. At the edge and fine corners of the hotel, Don turned and braced the sword against the walls to receive his charge. Phelan didn't even slow down. CRUNCH. She looked down in surprise at the dagger handle sprouting from his breastplate. “Thanks for playing,” Don said in a low, victorious voice. He then lifted her by her legs and tossed her over the side of the reception shelf. Even as she fell, she was disintegrating, turning back into a weak normal person. Don turned toward her army that he believed was around. It was now roughly one hundred and ninety-nine to one from the voices he had as well. He did the natural thing. Charged them.  “You're going to ask how the “invincible” thing worked: if I magically dodged every weapon, or if the weapons hit me and just didn't harm me. Honestly, I don't remember. All I knew was that I wasn't going to let these wolf invade my hometown. I sliced through armor like it was made of paper.” Don whispered as he turned back to locate his master.

 Aside the reception room/chamber. Phelan crawled on the ground like a snake that was already destroyed, and she was clearly weak. From a distant, someone with sympathy could clearly say that she lost. Or even she never deserved to be fought for she was never a wolf or whatsoever.  Suddenly, her anger arose again as she tried to recollect her energy. Growling and whimpering on the ground, anger arose, and this time she could not control it. By her fists, supported her whole body as she rose from the ground with power and her eyes turning from golden-yellow to red…