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The pirates scurried to obey their captain\'s orders, frantically swiveling the cannons towards the beast who was slaughtering them like pigs. Unfortunately, the weight of the artillery was cumbersome and it took them precious moments to set it up.

As Fenrir continued his savage attack on the other pirates, a thick cloud of gunpowder smoke began to fill the air. The acrid smell of sulfur mingled with the salty ocean breeze, adding to the sense of danger and impending doom.

With a wicked gleam in his eye, the pirate captain bellowed his command.

"Boooooooom"

The resulting explosion was deafening as the metal ball hurtled through the air.

But Fenrir was already steps ahead of them. He had heard the cannon\'s click before it fired, and with a graceful leap, he propelled himself high into the air, his powerful legs coiled like springs.

As he reached the peak of his jump, time seemed to slow down, giving him a clear view of the oncoming cannonball. With a fierce snarl, he twisted his body in mid-air, tucking his head down and curling into a tight ball.

The cannonball whooshed past him, missing him by inches as he executed a perfect somersault in mid-air. He landed on his feet with barely a sound, his eyes glittering with fierce satisfaction.

For a moment, there was a tense silence as everyone watched in disbelief. The pirates\' faces twisted in frustration and anger, while Fenrir\'s wolfish features twisted in a sneer of contempt as he saw the pirates\' shocked expressions. He had already gauged the velocity of the cannonballs, and he was confident in his ability to dodge them.

With a sense of unbridled confidence, he regarded the pirates with a cool detachment. This scene hung in the air like a bad nightmare , the tension and fear was undeniable from the pirates faces.

In that brief moment, Fenrir was ready for anything the pirates could throw at him. He bid his time, waiting for them to load their cannons. He wanted to test his full strength, to feel the rush of battle as he faced down their deadly firepower.

With a sudden explosion, thunderous booms echoed through the air, the sound coming from multiple directions at once. But even as the cannons fired, his reaction time was lightning fast. He had already judged the trajectory of the deadly projectiles before they even left the barrels.

Time seemed to slow down once again as Fenrir sprang into action. His movements were a blur of fur and muscle, his senses sharp and attuned to every threat around him. He was like a wild animal, fierce and unrelenting to his prey.

As the cannonballs hurtled towards him, his body moved with accuracy . His eyes narrowed, and his muscles tensed as he crouched down low to the ground, ready to dodge the incoming projectiles.

The first cannonball whizzed past him, barely missing his ear as he twisted his body to the side, his movements fluid and precise.

Then, without missing a beat, he sprinted towards his attackers, his muscles rippling with power as he charged headlong into battle.

And with a ferocious swing of his claws, he shattered the cannon to pieces. The deadly projectiles lay scattered on the deck, their power rendered useless against him.

The remaining pirates panicked, and armed themselves with swords and knives, their fear and desperation clear in their eyes. But Fenrir was a force to be reckoned with, his razor-sharp fangs and claws leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

He once again moved with blinding speed, his powerful muscles propelling him towards his prey like a deadly projectile. He lunged and snarled, his teeth and claws tearing through flesh and bone with savage efficiency.

They were no match for his unstoppable fury. They fell before him, their bodies mangled and broken, their cries of pain lost in the roar of battle.

As the fight raged on, the remaining survivors realized that they had no chance of winning. They fled in terror, abandoning their ship and their fallen comrades.

Those who remained huddled below the deck, their bodies trembling with fear. They knew that the werewolf\'s wrath was still upon them, and that their only hope of survival was to hide and pray for mercy. But Fenrir was not one to show mercy to those who dared to cross him. He prowled the ship, his senses keen and alert, his deadly claws poised to strike at any moment. The scene was one of pure carnage and chaos, the air thick with the scent of blood and death.

Fenrir stood amidst the carnage, his powerful form silhouetted bloodied deck.

"Awoooooooooooo" He let loose a deafening howl, his voice echoing across the waves, a fierce cry of triumph that signaled his complete and utter victory.

As the sound of his howl faded away, the stillness of the sea settled over the ship. The remaining pirates cowered in terror, their eyes locked on the fearsome figure before them.

The sailors on the Galeon on the other hand watched in awe as Fenrir fearlessly took on the pirates, his deadly prowess on full display. Though they were initially fearful of him, his actions in protecting them quickly made them grateful for his presence. As he single-handedly exterminated their enemies, their cheers echoed through the sea, a resounding tribute to his power.

Fenrir turned towards the remaining pirates, his feral gaze sweeping over the huddled group. His lips curled into a snarl, his sharp fangs glinting with ferocity.

"You have chosen to cross me," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "And now you shall face the consequences."

They trembled before him, knowing that their fate was sealed. They had dared to challenge a monster , and now they would pay the price. The scene was one of pure terror and desperation, the air thick with the scent of impending doom.

"Have mercy, please!" The desperate pleas of the defeated pirates filled the air, their voices trembling with fear and desperation.