My Werewolf System

Chapter 1793  The Blood Cannon

Each of the vampire families possessed distinct, inherited powers that separated them from common fledglings. Some of these traits were easy to identify from a simple, outward glance, such as Haylock’s supernatural string ability, which allowed him to bind and manipulate his targets with razor-sharp precision.

Then there were also Jin’s volatile powers, a terrifying power that allowed his very blood to possess a highly explosive, combustible nature upon leaving his body.

These unique, supernatural powers were exclusively shared and honed within the higher-ranking members of their respective families. And of course, usually, the current reigning head of the family wasnʼt just the strongest in terms of raw physical capabilities or the sheer volume of their Blood Aura; they were the absolute, undisputed masters of their specific family abilities as well.

For Rowa, his unique ability allowed him to manipulate the very fabric of reality. He could slightly reverse time within a highly localized, certain area. This specific, godly power was exactly why he had been able to successfully reverse the twisted, biological effects of the newly turned Werewolf during their brutal interrogation in the alleyway earlier.

For ordinary vampires, Werewolves were incredibly dangerous predators primarily because their feral attacks seemed to carry a lingering energy that had a significant, debilitating impact on a vampireʼs natural healing factor. A deep scratch from a Werewolf claw would burn and fester for days.

Even if a wounded vampire consumed gallons of fresh human blood, it would only improve their stunted healing speed by a tiny fraction. But that harsh, biological rule simply wasn’t the case for Rowa. Because he didnʼt technically ʼhealʼ his wounds; he could just seamlessly reverse the localized time of his own flesh, completely erasing the injuries that would appear on his body as if they had never happened in the first place.

In a tactical way, he had the least amount of personal risk to take when it came to fighting against full-blooded Werewolves. This defense was exactly why he had arrogantly taken it upon himself to track down and eliminate the strongest of their enemies alone.

Still, even with powers that bordered on the divine, there was a strict, biological limit to how much they could be continuously used within a certain time frame before exhausting himself.

‘This feral mutt’s body is absurdly strong. His dense muscle fibers are brushing off my ranged attacks like mere annoyances,’ Rowa thought. ‘If that’s the case, then relying on distance isnʼt going to cut it. I’m going to need a much, much stronger attack to put this dog down permanently!’

When he saw Midwak recklessly rushing forward across the rubble once again, for the very first time in the duel, Rowa did the exact same. He pushed off his back foot and charged to meet the beast head-on.

Seeing the Werewolf bounding toward him, Rowa calculated the trajectory and aimed carefully. He fired another rapid flurry of blood swipes, but this time, he made the crimson blades significantly smaller in size and concentrated entirely on a singular target. All of them were aimed directly at Midwak’s leading foot.

As Midwak had somewhat leaped into the air to close the final gap, the dense cluster of blood strikes hammered mercilessly into his heavy boot. The sudden, concentrated impact against his ankle forcefully disrupted his balance, shifting the momentum of his body and causing him to flip awkwardly upward, exposing his broad chest.

Rowa seized the fleeting opening. He pulled his right arm back, and a tremendous, overwhelming amount of thick blood aura rapidly began forming and swirling around his forearm, glowing with a blinding crimson light.

“Stay perfectly still!” Rowa commanded.

He lunged upward, reaching out with his free hand to firmly grab onto the Werewolfʼs shirt collar to anchor him in place. With his target secured, Rowa viciously drove his glowing palm right up against the dead center of Midwak’s exposed stomach.

“Blood Cannon!”

A devastating, concentrated blast of pure blood energy burst directly from Rowaʼs palm into Midwak’s stomach. The point-blank impact hit the werewolf with an immense amount of unadulterated power. The sheer kinetic force was so overwhelming that the displaced air and blood aura created a visible, blinding red ring of shockwaves that pulsed outward, shattering the remaining glass in the surrounding buildings.

The Werewolf roared in agony, desperately trying to hold his ground, and it was the exact same for Rowa. The recoil of the blast was monstrous. Eventually, the immense pressure became too much, and the Werewolfʼs heavy body was violently flung high into the dark sky. But before he was launched backward, Midwakʼs frantic, flailing claws ripped brutally through the fabric of Rowa’s coat, shredding the vampireʼs arm down to the bone in a desperate counterattack.

Eventually, Rowa landed heavily on the trembling ground. He looked up, watching the smoking figure of the Werewolf soaring high into the air from the sheer, overwhelming power of the attack.

“I should heal myself before he lands,” Rowa grunted, wincing slightly.

It wasnʼt just his right arm that was shredded by the beastʼs claws; both of his arms were severely damaged. The Blood Cannon was an incredibly powerful move that elite vampires could utilize, but if they didn’t control the volatile output perfectly and used too much raw power, the immense recoil would instantly cause devastating internal damage to their own limbs.

Since Rowa had purposely focused on using as much raw, uninhibited power as possible to ensure the werewolf wouldnʼt get back up, the muscles and veins in his firing arm had ruptured completely. But he could confidently take reckless, self-destructive risks like that.

Closing his eyes, he focused his unique ability. The torn flesh, shattered bones, and shredded veins on his arms began to visibly rewind, knitting back together in a matter of seconds until his skin was completely flawless once more.

When the two arms were perfectly healed, Rowa confidently looked back up toward the sky, fully expecting to see a corpse plummeting to the earth. Instead, his enhanced eyes widened in sheer horror. He could see something hurtling back down directly towards him.

Two long, terrifying objects were flung downward with the speed of falling meteors. They were two arms, but they had bizarrely stretched, elongated, and hardened mid-air. Before Rowa could even attempt to dodge, the jagged, mutated limbs pierced right through both of Rowa’s shoulders like heavy wooden spears, pinning his feet to the concrete.

“You’ve got to be absolutely kidding me!” Rowa coughed.

Right after the spears connected, the rest of Midwak’s heavy, descending body crashed directly into the vampire. The colossal impact cratered the ground, sending a massive cloud of dust and shattered debris flying in all different directions across the ruined courtyard.

Meanwhile, at the exact same time near the front gates of the compound, Haylock and Jin were still fighting for their lives. But a creeping, undeniable sense of dread was beginning to wash over them. It felt like the Glutton Werewolves were exponentially increasing in number with every passing minute. And it wasnʼt just the sheer number of beasts flooding the courtyard; the physical strength and ferocity of the new arrivals seemed to be vastly superior to the initial wave.

“What in the world is Rowa doing in there?!” Jin shouted over the deafening roars, his elegant coat now stained with grime and sweat as he fired another explosive blood bullet into the encroaching horde. “He should have killed the leader by now!”

“Maybe... maybe the enemy is a bit stronger than we originally thought,” Haylock answered, his breathing ragged as he used his red strings to desperately hold back three charging at once. He gritted his fangs, a rare look of fear crossing his ancient face. “I’m really starting to regret leaving Gary and the Howlers behind right about now.”

**