Standing before the two vampires was a massive figure, easily over seven feet tall. Thick black fur covered its powerful body. Its yellow eyes locked onto Rip.
A werewolf.
Myor swallowed hard.
I knew he wasn’t a normal person when he overwhelmed Rip so easily… but a werewolf?
Myor stared at the massive werewolf. His fierce yellow eyes were fixed only on Rip. It was Myor’s first time seeing one since the war with the werewolves.
Then a sudden realization came to him.
Wait. He transformed even though there is no full moon today?
Myor’s eyes widened further, looking like they could pop out at any second, as another realization struck him.
Don’t tell me… is that why he tasted my blood earlier? He knew. Even a single drop of vampire blood can give a werewolf considerable power… and the ability to transform without the full moon.
He shook his head inwardly.
Hah… I can’t believe it. There’s a werewolf out there, and on top of that, he knows our secrets. More importantly, I didn’t even smell the scent of a werewolf from him. Was it because of this seal? Has it already weakened me that much?
***
Rip regained his composure once more. Even with a werewolf standing before him, he was still a vampire who had killed many of its kind in the last war. He let out a low laugh.
“Hah… I knew it. You came here for our blood. Now that you’ve shown your true form…”
A cruel smile spread across his face.
“Let’s see who the real predator is. Even if you are not an original.”
After forming a blade of blood using his blood magic that gleamed like a sword, Rip began circling around Wox. It was a basic tactic to probe the opponent before a full-fledged confrontation.
I will kill you and drink your blood, you damn bastard. You will become nothing more than a stepping stone for me.
“Hoo, hoo.”
With such thoughts, Rip steadied his breaths. It was when he had exhaled twice…
Shuack!
Wox closed the distance in an instant.
Rip’s eyes widened. It was hard to believe someone could move that fast after taking a direct hit from his blood magic.
Even if he’s a werewolf, his healing shouldn’t be this fast.
“Heup!”
Rip adjusted his stance instinctively and stabbed forward. It was a fast, precise attack, befitting someone who wielded a sword-like weapon. But it was also a foolish move. One that should never have been used against an opponent who only moves on wild instinct and brute force.
His blade slipped past Wox, only grazing his fur.
At the same time, Wox’s claws drew a sharp diagonal gash through the air. Rip dodged, but Wox immediately followed with his jaws, snapping toward his neck. With vampiric instinct, Rip twisted away just in time.
The sound of those jaws clashing echoed sharply through the hall. Rip rolled across the floor and came back up quickly.
Blood began to flow from his palms again, gathering and shaping itself into twin crimson blades.
“Fine,” he said, steadying his stance. “If you want to die like a mutt—”
Wox did not wait for him to finish.
He attacked again. This time, low and fast, aiming for Rip’s legs. It was hard for Rip to believe that a wild animal could fight with the tactics of a trained hunter.
Rip reacted instantly, leaping upward while swinging one blade down in a clean arc. The strike should have torn through Wox’s back, but he had already moved.
The blade only cut shallowly across his fur and skin. It hardly did any damage, but it was enough to make him bleed.
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