My Werewolf System

Chapter 1792  The Arrogance of Immortality

Standing alone on the towering mountain of ruined concrete and twisted steel in the absolute center of the White Rose base, there was no one around to disturb Rowa’s isolated duel. The ancient vampire lord looked down his nose with an air of absolute superiority as he went up against the imposing werewolf wearing a ridiculously out-of-place Hawaiian shirt.

The ruined courtyard was eerily silent, save for the distant, echoing booms from the front gates where Jin and Haylock were currently entertaining themselves with the lesser horde of Gluttons. This specific, devastated battleground, however, belonged solely to the two leaders.

And the very first to attack out of the two of them was Rowa. With a dismissive, arrogant sneer twisting his pale features, he swung his hand forward, delivering a wide, sweeping slash of highly condensed blood aura. The crescent-shaped crimson blade, forged from his own dark life force, hummed with lethal kinetic energy as it cut effortlessly through the floating dust and surrounding debris, sailing directly toward Midwakʼs exposed neck.

As soon as the deadly attack came his way, the werewolf didnʼt even attempt to dodge. He simply stood his ground, knocking the strike aside by hitting the hardened blood aura with his bare, calloused hands. The heavy impact shattered the crimson projectile, instantly turning the lethal strike into a harmless shower of red mist that rained down on the concrete.

“If a supposedly elite Werewolf couldnʼt casually block something as simple as a basic blood swipe, then I wouldnʼt expect you to be the recognized leader of this pathetic, ragtag army of monsters!” Rowa mocked.

Refusing to underestimate the raw physical threat before him, Rowa opened up the palms of both his hands. He made sure to keep his tactical distance, knowing far better than to engage a full-blooded werewolf in close-quarters grappling.

A relentless, blinding flurry of sharp blood swipes erupted from his fingertips, all of them curving through the air and swarming aggressively around Midwakʼs position like a hive of crimson hornets.

Midwak was seen nimbly jumping from side to side across the unstable, shifting rubble. Rowa ruthlessly used the crimson blades to track the beastʼs unpredictable movements, aiming specifically for his vital organs.

The sharp attacks were successfully connecting with the Werewolf once in a while, breaking off against his hardened, muscular skin. It was incredibly hard to tell from a distance whether the shallow, burning cuts were doing any actual lasting damage or not, but the sheer, overwhelming buildup of rapid strikes was sure to whittle the beast down eventually.

Growing entirely tired of the evasive dance, Midwak forcefully leaped from his position. He stubbornly ignored the burning blood swipes that were crashing against his broad body, purposely trading his own spilled blood for a brief, calculated chance to finally get at the elusive vampire.

However, an ancient vampire like Rowa wasnʼt slow by any means. He fluidly moved from his elevated position, gliding gracefully backward across the debris and throwing out several larger, highly concentrated blood swipes right at the exact spot where Midwak was predicting to land.

As Midwak crashed heavily into the ground, shattering the concrete beneath his heavy boots, he aggressively swung his thick arms, batting away and effortlessly breaking the large crimson strikes once again, dispersing the deadly energy into the wind.

“I can already tell this is going to be a pain. It seems these small, probing attacks simply wonʼt hurt you enough to matter,” Rowa claimed. He continued to effortlessly move around from area to area, maintaining his range while still throwing out the countless flurry of blood strikes to keep the relentless beast at bay. “There is a vast, evolutionary difference between us noble vampires and you feral Werewolves. I have to admit, you brutes are quite tricky to deal with for some of our younger, inexperienced kin who donʼt know any better. But there is one advantage we possess: we can attack with lethal force from a far range using our blood aura.

“There is no need for us to lower ourselves and fight on a primitive, physical level with you dogs!”

Putting both of his pale hands tightly together, Rowa focused his inner essence to its absolute peak. Out from the combined palms of his hands, an overwhelming, torrential flurry of razor-sharp blood swipes burst forth. The concentrated wave of continuous attacks hitting Midwak was physically pushing the heavy werewolf backward, his boots carving deep, smoking trenches through the ruined ground.

Midwak suddenly stretched out his hands, widening his stance to anchor himself. He took the brutal hits head-on, letting the relentless blood aura repeatedly strike his broad chest, and then fiercely swung his fist out in a devastating arc.

That was when a terrifying phenomenon occurred: pure energy claws tore through the air and ripped directly toward Rowa.

The sheer kinetic force of the towering energy attack broke right through all of the vampireʼs incoming attacks, instantly turning the relentless barrage of blood swipes into nothing but harmless, dissipating red particles.

Rowaʼs red eyes widened in genuine surprise. He rapidly moved out of the way just in the nick of time, allowing the Werewolfʼs devastating energy claw marks to hit nothing but the empty air behind him, leaving deep, smoldering gouges in the remaining concrete walls of the base.

But, as he tried to reaffirm his footing on the loose gravel, a colossal chunk of concrete debris was hurled with terrifying speed directly toward the vampire. Midwak was using the ruined environment as a weapon.

The vampire had no choice but to take the hit, or rather, punch his aura-coated fist right through the center of the flying concrete boulder to protect himself.

The very moment he smashed the heavy rock into a thick cloud of blinding dust, his heightened senses flared with extreme danger. Through the settling grit, he could see Midwak was already standing right by his side, having used the projectile as a perfect smokescreen to seamlessly close the gap.

‘Damn it, this thing is fast! It’s incredibly fast. It’s on a completely different level compared to those mindless Glutton grunts outside!’ Rowa thought, genuine alarm spiking in his ancient heart.

Rowa frantically stepped to the side, desperately trying to avoid the incoming swipe, and he even threw up a thick, condensed blood barrier just in case his supreme speed wasnʼt quite enough to escape the attack radius.

But it was entirely futile. The physical claw ripped right through the hardened blood barrier as if it were made of wet paper, and then the sharp, hardened nails stretched right through his pale skin.

The deep cut hit squarely across his chest, tearing his pristine aristocratic clothing and drawing dark, thick blood. Reacting on pure survival instinct, Rowa pushed deep off the ground, launching himself backward to create a large amount of distance between the two of them. He simultaneously swung another heavy wave of blood aura towards Midwak to cover his panicked retreat so the beast couldnʼt press the advantage and chase him down.

Landing safely on a rusted steel beam high above the rubble, Rowa gritted his teeth in pure indignation.

“Damn it. I actually let this stupid mutt hit me,” Rowa hissed, a dark scowl twisting his elegant features. He pressed his hand firmly against his bleeding chest. The pale flesh bubbled, and the deep, jagged wound was almost immediately disappearing, knitting itself back together seamlessly.

He lowered his hand, his red eyes burning with unadulterated fury as he looked down at the Hawaiian-shirt-wearing werewolf.

“If it was one of the other fools in my family standing here, that would be quite the nasty, fatal wound. But unfortunately for you... youʼre going up against one of the few vampires that can effortlessly deal with the nastiness of Werewolf attacks.”

**