Chapter 102: Who, In the End, Is the True Traveler?

[Ding! The system has extracted the marquis vampire's innate ability and converted it into a passive attribute: Blood Boil.
Blood Boil: Passive attribute talent. Increases life regeneration speed by 10%. When health drops below 10%, you feel the preciousness of life, your blood boils, and all attributes increase by 20% until death.]

Never underestimate any skill card—this was Lin Xiao’s most immediate realization.
A mere level 1 skill card had actually become the key to turning the tide. Neither Lestat nor Lin Xiao himself had anticipated this.
He had obtained this “Young Maiden’s Adoration” card after saving Barbara, and once thought it would prove of little use. In the end, it surpassed even Lestat’s Blood Shadow Mirror in power. If Lestat knew about this in the afterlife, he would never rest in peace.
Of course, at this point, he certainly couldn’t rest in peace anyway.

While the corpse was still warm, Lin Xiao prepared to—no, don’t misunderstand—he was about to offer Michael a taste of fresh blood.
He picked up the Blood Shadow Mirror from the ground, its surface smeared with blood, then walked over to Michael, pried open his mouth, and let the blood drip in.
Anyone bitten by a vampire is invaded by a special virus, and only the blood of a vampire can heal them; the consequence, naturally, is that they too become a vampire.
Compared to death, Lin Xiao thought turning Michael into a vampire wasn’t the worst outcome. But the relationship between Michael and Number Eleven would surely become bizarre.

Wait!
After dripping the blood, he suddenly remembered—Michael had also been bitten by a werewolf. Now he’d been bitten by a vampire too. Wouldn’t that mean he was about to become both a werewolf and a vampire?
Sure enough, once he drank the vampire’s blood, Michael’s skin flushed red, with thick hair seeming to sprout beneath the surface, trapped by his skin.
His body changed dramatically, sometimes shifting toward a werewolf, sometimes toward a vampire, his form twisting as if he might burst apart at any moment.

“I’m doomed. If I accidentally kill Michael, Number Eleven will definitely go crazy at me.”
Lin Xiao thought uneasily. Beside him, Number Eleven realized something was wrong and anxiously asked,
“What’s happening? Jonathan, what’s wrong with Michael?”
“I don’t know either,” he replied helplessly, having no idea what impact his actions might have. Whether Michael would survive was now up to fate.

“Lestat was a marquis. His blood is too powerful. Michael’s body can’t handle it; at this rate, he’ll die for sure.”
A voice came from behind. Stefan, lost and disheartened, stepped forward, his face still filled with disbelief.

A marquis among vampires, meeting such an absurd end—if word got out, their entire lineage would be humiliated.
At the same time, Stefan found himself deeply suspicious of this “Jonathan Byers.” Who exactly was he? Why did he possess so many tricks, even managing to kill Lestat wielding a vampire sacred artifact? It defied belief, yet was all too real.

“What should we do?”
Number Eleven’s voice trembled with urgency, on the verge of tears. After finally finding a boyfriend, to see him die before her eyes was simply unacceptable.

Stefan pondered for a moment, glancing at Michael, whose body was turning redder, like a lobster freshly boiled, radiating intense steam.
“Judging by his condition, was he also bitten by a werewolf?”
Lin Xiao and Number Eleven nodded simultaneously at Stefan’s question. The vampire, abandoned by Lestat, suddenly understood and clapped his hands.
“Amazing. One body holding both vampire and werewolf bloodlines. Let me think… I seem to recall a record of something similar in my family’s chronicles.

Legend has it that both the werewolves and the vampires stem from the same ancestor, going all the way back to the dawn of creation—to one of Adam and Eve’s sons, Cain.
It’s said that Cain, jealous of his brother Abel, killed him by accident and was thus punished by God, transformed into an immortal monster, doomed to wander and suffer eternally.
Later, he had three sons: one inherited his immortality and became the progenitor of vampires; another inherited his violent nature and became the first werewolf.
The last son finally returned to normal and became a regular human, though in his blood remained a trace of Cain’s immortal blood—ready to awaken if properly stimulated.

Perhaps this young man carries the bloodline of Cain’s third son, which is why he can hold both vampire and werewolf powers. After all, we all share a common ancestor.”
Stefan explained at length. Lin Xiao was left bewildered—if Adam and Eve were real, did that mean the legendary angels and demons were too?
Thinking about it, he felt something was off, but couldn’t put his finger on it, so he simply shook his head and set aside these strange thoughts.

“You’ve said all that, but how do we save Michael?”
Number Eleven shouted impatiently. Seeing Michael’s worsening condition, on the brink of death, her temper flared.

Blushing, Stefan quickly continued,
“The vampire blood he absorbed is too potent, and the werewolf blood in his body is insufficient. Without balance, he can’t survive. Only by introducing even stronger werewolf blood can we save his life.”

Stronger werewolf blood?
Number Eleven’s gaze shifted to the muscular werewolves strewn across the floor. Stefan followed her look and shook his head.

“They won’t work. They’re just ordinary werewolves—their blood isn’t potent enough. At minimum, you need the blood of a werewolf leader to balance out Lestat’s bloodline.”

Number Eleven’s face fell into utter despair. Where could they find a werewolf leader now? The previous leader, Lucien, had already been bitten to death by the demon lord, and his blood was likely long dried up.
Besides, they didn’t have enough time to return—Michael would die en route.

“Ahem, actually, I have Lucien’s werewolf blood.”
Lin Xiao coughed, pretending to reach into his pocket, and took out a vial—the virus concentrate from Lucien, a reward he’d drawn earlier.

This concentrate, extracted from Lucien, was extremely potent and might just be able to counteract Lestat’s bloodline.

“Jonathan, I love you!”
Number Eleven shouted, overcome with relief. Lin Xiao smiled awkwardly, poured out the liquid, and dripped it into Michael’s mouth.

After the entire vial had been administered, Michael’s condition changed again—his skin transformed, turning a strange tawny yellow, looking exceedingly odd.
His features gradually returned to normal and his body stabilized; outwardly, he looked almost like an ordinary person. Yet deep within him, a terrifying power was slowly awakening.

Lin Xiao felt as if he could see this power, hidden deep in Michael’s blood. Stimulated by both vampire and werewolf blood, it had finally been fully awakened.

This power was peculiar—circulating endlessly within Michael, it resembled magic, but was deeper, more profound. Perhaps it could be called “divine power.”
Of course, this divine power wasn’t truly the might of a god, but a mysterious force surpassing magic.

It was incredibly faint—almost imperceptible, like a candle in the wind, ready to be snuffed out at any moment.
But like a seed, it had taken root within Michael; with time and nurture, it might one day grow to rival the power of the gods.

Lin Xiao found this hard to believe. Simply accepting two bloodlines and awakening his own was enough to gain such a high-level power? This cheat was even more terrifying than Number Eleven’s.

Who, in the end, was the real transmigrator here?