The Invincible Full-Moon System Chapter 2024: Origin-rank Bloodlines (1)

Everything was blurry through the tired lenses of his eyes—the world was reduced to smeared shapes and shifting shadows. But the System’s notifications cut through the haze with cold, surgical clarity, and the four hovering cards before him shimmered with a light that refused to be ignored.

<Notice: the user has reached the last threshold!>

<Four Origin-rank Bloodline options are now available to select from!>

<Please select three traits from any of the four Origin-rank bloodlines to complete the evolution.>

A smirk crept to his face.

Enduring the torturous process of filling up the gauge and sacrificing two valuable items was worth it.

Upon reaching the last threshold, the cosmic silver, by siphoning the divinity from Mayar, allowed him to access four Origin-rank bloodlines. The next natural evolution of his Royal Black Prince bloodline. A bloodline that had given him the power to hold multiple King Marks from the Lunirich Gods and also a commanding aura that made other werewolves acknowledge him as Royal Blood.

Both had served him well.

Both had carried him through battles that should’ve killed him.

But he was facing God-like beings now.

King Marks and dominating auras were no longer enough. He needed more. Something stronger.

One that would allow him to become the apex predator again and hunt Gods.

Rex rose to his feet.

His body wobbled, and his head spun with a dizziness that threatened to tip him over.

He planted his feet and forced his gaze forward. The four cards hung in the air before him, their surfaces opaque at first, refusing to reveal their secrets. He needed to blink multiple times—before the blurriness began to recede, and the cards sharpened into focus.

Then he read the notification again, and his brow furrowed.

Right now, he was undergoing a Bloodline Evolution, but it was different.

Normally, during a bloodline evolution֫—the process was simple. All he needed to do was to choose a bloodline and then receive its power. Straightforward. But this time, the System had changed the rules. He was allowed to choose three traits from the four Origin-rank bloodlines.

He would not inherit a single bloodline. He would forge his own.

And then, the realization settled over him like a cold wind.

Rex remembered something.

On the Second Race Evolution Quest, he already determined his next bloodline to be the Greater Lycan Race. The fusion of his two forms—the human and the werewolf—into a single, unified existence. The possession of two bodies allowed him to wield two sources of power.

That was why he had seen mana and all the other energies merging inside him earlier.

That was the characteristic he had chosen for this path.

And the energies weren’t only combining, but they were processing his new Greater Lycan Race.

Now, it was time to finish what the merger had started.

His gaze drifted to the first card on the far left.

Due to the slight blurriness that came and went, Rex narrowed his eyes to read the name of the bloodline located at the top. It was harder to focus than he anticipated, but when he did, the name put a frown on his face. "Black Omicron...?"

Almost the moment the words left his mouth, the world lurched.

That card flared blindingly, and a force seized his mind—yanking him forward. The dark space of his mind around him collapsed, swallowed by an even deeper darkness. Then, slowly, a scene bloomed into being, vivid and terrible.

Rex was now standing in a clearing inside a very lush forest.

Judging from the concentration of energy in the air, he was quite certain that it was the Mortal Realm.

Even though he wasn’t really there, he could breathe in the air, and it was richer than it had ever been.

Then, figures and huts began to manifest all around him.

A tribe of werewolves. Third generation, judging by the thick, almost scaled texture of their skin behind their dark fur. They were massive, built like living siege engines—and their fur matted with blood and dirt.

But something was wrong with them.

Not wounded, but more like sick.

Considering their incredible regeneration, it was uncanny to see a werewolf being sick.

Some lay on the ground; their chests rising and falling with laboured breaths.

Others stood in defensive circles, their claws raised, and their eyes wild with desperation.

And the Shamans seemed to be praying to the Lunirich God.

No chaotic atmosphere. No brawls. No feral hunting.

Knowing how werewolves normally are, this tribe looked incredibly depressing even by Rex’s standards.

Above them, where the moon should have been—hung a bright silver metal sphere. It was not the moon. It was something else. Something that didn’t belong. Something that Rex noticed was made entirely of arcane mana of unfathomable proportion.

Even Rex had never amassed this much mana before.

It was a hundred, no, a thousand times greater than his mana reserves.

Clearly, it wasn’t made by one person but many.

Its light was harsh and metallic, and it cast no comfort—only a burning, oppressive glare that seemed to press down on the werewolves, sapping their strength, draining their will. They were dying beneath it, and some were already dead.

Rex immediately realized that this silver sphere was the Ancient Humans’ doing.

Some sort of magical construct that weakened werewolves, and perhaps many other Supernatural Races.

Rex stood at the edge of the vision, invisible, silent, and watching.

He remembered that back then, the bloodlines’ powers weren’t simply stated for him to deliberate. No— it was shown to him directly. Not through a dream—or a display through the System, but through a real memory of the entity who had the bloodline.

And that meant right now he was the Black Omicron.

Once Rex realized that, something began.

Above, the silver sphere pulsed once—and the light intensified. Before Rex’s very eyes, the moonlight barrier protecting the tribe melted away, and the werewolves howled in unison, a sound of pure, animal anguish that echoed across the plain.

It seemed they were hiding from the light, but were now found again.

Swiftly, the Shamans tried to reinforce the barrier.

Moonlight energy shot from their hands in a stream of bright silver, and it mended the barrier.

But they didn’t last long—the glare from the metallic-silver sphere was too dazzling.

Rex could feel that the silver metallic light had an effect identical to pure silver. Somehow, the Ancient Humans knew a way to turn pure silver into light, and used it to debilitate every single werewolf within the tribe and even all other Supernaturals in the area.

As impossible as that sounds, it was happening.

Rex’s heart pounded in his chest, and without his control, his body began to levitate and climb higher.

Hearing the painful wail from the werewolves boiled his blood, and with a snap, he raised his hand and pointed it at the metallic silver sphere above. Something churned in the sky. He couldn’t see it with his eyes, but he could feel that his energy went somewhere behind the silver metallic sphere.

And then, he finally saw it.

A black spot at the center of the metallic silver sphere.

From afar, the sphere looked like it was entirely made of metal, like an advanced and sophisticated piece of tech that was designed to process pure silver into light. Since that was the case, its surface shouldn’t be able to let any light from behind through.

But this black spot seeped through.

Ignoring the blackness, the silver sphere gleamed even brighter.

Rex could hear the painful howls intensify as werewolves dropped to the ground one by one.

Even the Shamans who were supposed to be protecting the tribe began to be overwhelmed by the light, and they found their fur falling. Even their skin began to melt under the harsh glare of pure silver light, snuffing out their moonlight energy.

Soon, Rex’s body finally moved again.

He stabbed his claws into the space before him, and tore through the dimensional fabric.

Rex came out from his separated dimension and faced the metallic silver sphere.

Seeing his appearance, one of the Shamans’ eyes flickered.

"A shadow watched over our race. A shadow that was shaped like us, and thought to be the bringer of a black plague. He was the second consort of the moon, and he was no plague. He was the bearer of dark fortune. Riches of the night.

"The Black Omicron."

Rex could hear her voice seeping into his ears.

And before he could process what she said, he already inhaled and filled his lungs to the brim.

ROAR—!

A torrent of darkness erupted from his body, and the black spot at the heart of the silver sphere bloomed like ink striking water. It spread almost in an instant. Devouring until the entire sphere was swallowed in shadow.

And with a twist of his hand, the colossal metallic sphere shattered.

KABOOM—!

Its dark fragments scattered into the void.

Rex spread his arms to the side and watched as the moon was finally revealed again.

And the dark fragments graced the area like a rain of ink.

As he turned around and looked down at the werewolves, he watched as their suffering ended, and the debilitating wounds that they suffered were mended at a rapid pace. It didn’t take long at all. Just a few seconds, and the tribe was completely healed.

Seeing his figure hovering in the sky, the werewolves howled.

They sang for him, showcasing their appreciation for his crucial help in order to survive.

And as the howls continued, the scene began to fade away as he returned to the dark space of his mind.

<Black Omicron of the Dark Fortune>

Rex opened his eyes. The four cards were still there, waiting.

But the first card was now revealed.

<Black Omicron of the Dark Fortune>

It no longer glowed with the same light.

It pulsed now, dark and steady, like a second heartbeat, and the faintest echo of that ancient howl seemed to ripple from its surface. Rex now had experienced what the bloodline would offer him—He had seen its power and used it firsthand.

Frankly, he was more aware of the White Omicron than the Black Omicron.

Even so, he somewhat knew that the Black Omicron is an entity that champions werewolves.

Meeting with it would secure a werewolf’s future as the strongest.

And after experiencing its power, he now understood why that legend was circulating.

Most of his powers revolved around direct combat.

However, the Purgation Law wouldn’t be only him against another one. It would be a brawl, and there would be many variables that came into play during a brawl. Not to mention—there was also Davina, who was High Lord Rashal’s third warrior.

Instead of focusing on himself, he also needed to make sure to optimize the team.

Going against Diamantona, he could tell that it wouldn’t be easy.

Having stronger allies would certainly help immensely.

Rex made a mental note to make sure to pick one trait from the Black Omicron bloodline—but that was still one out of three traits, and he still had three more Origin-rank bloodlines to check. His eyes turned to the next card.

Once again, his tired eyes narrowed at the second card.

The words written on it began to shimmer upon feeling his gaze, and then he could finally read it.

And seeing the bloodline didn’t surprise him.

Since there was the Black Omicron, then the opposite of it should also be included.

"White Omicron..."

Rex’s mind was pulled again, plunging him into darkness.

And soon, a completely different scene manifested—one that was the complete opposite of earlier.