Chapter Forty-Seven: The Vampire King

A tremendous force erupted from the ruins, shattering the already desolate debris into an even more wretched state. From the swirling dust, a figure slowly emerged. Clad in a crimson cloak, with massive black bat wings unfurling behind him, his mouth gaped to reveal menacing fangs, enough to strike terror into any onlooker. Blood-red eyes gleamed with a ravenous, bloodthirsty light.

“So, you’ve finally decided to show yourself?” I fixed my gaze on the vampire that appeared before me, tightening my grip on the enormous black scythe in my hand.

“Damn it, why? Just one last step—why did I fail? I had already brushed the power of a Prince—why must I fall short?” Fury and unwillingness burned in the vampire’s eyes.

“You were trying to ascend to Prince?” Liriel cried out in astonishment upon hearing his words.

“Hmph, you gathered such immense strength—no doubt by slaughtering your own kind. No wonder I haven’t seen any vampires of Archduke rank; I suppose they’ve all become fuel for your power. But it’s useless—even if you amass greater power, becoming a Prince is not just about strength. Lowly vampires like you can never rise to that rank,” I replied with disdain.

“Damn it, so it’s bloodline after all? Why should a lesser bloodline mean I can never become a Prince? Why must I be forever beneath others because of my lineage? I refuse to accept this!” the vampire before me snarled in exasperation.

“Hmph. You vampires gorge yourselves on human blood, wallowing in decadence and pleasure. Your blood has long since been tainted, yet you still dream of advancing to Prince? Wishful thinking. The power of the Prince is not something you are worthy of possessing.” My words, cold and sharp, cut through his frustration.

“Hmph, if it’s all about bloodline, then all I need is a vampire with a pure enough lineage.” Having vented his grievances, the vampire regained his composure, his gaze locking hungrily and avidly on Liriel. “Second Princess, Princess Liriel, pureblood heir to the Prince’s line. If I can drain your blood, I will certainly ascend to Prince.” Madness flickered in his eyes.

“You, a lowly vampire, dare covet my blood? How arrogant!” Liriel retorted angrily.

“Hahaha! In this world, strength is everything. Be obedient and become my sustenance. To be the sacrifice for my ascension is an honor you should cherish! I am the Vampire King, the one destined to rule this world!” With those words, the vampire lunged at Liriel, laughter echoing.

“Damn you! I’ll never be your prey!” Liriel raised her knight’s sword to meet his charge.

The instant Liriel’s sword met the Vampire King’s claws, the blade was knocked aside, and his claws raked viciously across her body. Reeling from the pain, Liriel clutched her wound and retreated swiftly beyond his reach.

“Liriel!” I cried out in alarm, rushing to her side to check her injury.

The Vampire King did not pursue. Instead, he licked Liriel’s blood from his claws, savoring it. “As expected of pureblood—the taste of your blood is exquisite,” he murmured in intoxication.

“So, is this all the famed Second Princess of the Blood Clan can manage?” The Vampire King burst into loud, unrestrained laughter at the sight of Liriel’s pained expression.

“Damn it,” Liriel muttered, clutching her wound. Normally, her injury would have healed quickly, but the lingering magic in the cut prevented it from closing, though the bleeding had stopped.

“Hahaha, I can feel my own blood boiling. As expected of pureblood! If I could consume all your blood, I would surely become a Prince!” The Vampire King’s laughter was filled with delight.

“You seem to have forgotten my presence,” I said in a calm, chilling tone.

“You? Just a mongrel. I know all about you—only half-blood, even my own lineage is purer than yours. I have no interest in you,” the Vampire King sneered dismissively.

“Is that so? But you seem to forget, I am the First Princess of the Blood Clan. No matter how impure my blood, the elders of the Vampire Council must acknowledge me as their First Princess,” I replied coolly. “Are you sure you want to provoke me?”

“Scythe Art of the Night—Nightmare Camellia.” An endless flurry of black scythe shadows surged forth like a dark ocean, roaring toward the Vampire King.

He slashed with his claws, instantly dispersing the wave of scythe shadows. “Is that all you have?” he said with contempt.

“Oh, we’re just getting started.” I let out a low cry: “Scythe Art of the Night—Eternal Moon’s Lament.” Darkness spread from the ground, enveloping us and stretching toward the sky, wrapping the two of us in the domain of eternal night—a darkness deeper than midnight. A silver gleam flashed within the obscurity—the moon’s radiance, gazing down on all from above, the glint of my scythe’s blade, a light that the night itself could not conceal.

“Petty trickery.” The Vampire King’s furious roar echoed through the inky domain. With a swing of his claws, he tore the Eternal Night apart by sheer force. He caught the silver flash of my scythe in one hand, holding it immobile. “Is that all? How disappointing—your arrogance earlier doesn’t match this feeble display,” he mocked.

“Domain—Rose Garden.” As his words faded, Liriel’s clear voice rang out.

Countless rose stems burst from the earth, growing rapidly and blooming. In the blink of an eye, the space around us was filled with fiery roses, their fragrance wafting through the air. We stood adrift in a sea of blossoms.

“A domain? Now this is interesting. As expected of pureblood—you make me even more eager for your blood,” the Vampire King said, releasing my scythe and allowing me to reclaim it.

“Hmph, soon you won’t be able to speak so smugly.” Liriel’s wound had healed, and she pointed her knight’s sword at the Vampire King once more. “Within my domain, I am sovereign,” she declared with confidence.

“Is that so? Then let me test its strength. Don’t be crushed too easily,” the Vampire King taunted, charging at her with wild laughter.

“Come, then. Witness my power.” Liriel gripped her sword in both hands, standing it upright before her as she spoke softly, “O garden of roses, reveal your beauty before me, and let all lost souls find rest within your arms.” As her words faded, countless petals danced in the wind, and the stems on the ground shot forth, tangling around the Vampire King. He was soon engulfed by the mass of blossoms.

“Hmph, let’s see how you escape this.” Liriel watched the Vampire King’s form vanish, a note of pride in her voice.

“Domain—Infernal Prison.” His deep voice rumbled from the roses, and screams, wails, and cries of injustice echoed chillingly from within. A tide of vengeful spirits surged forth in a sea of blood, spreading from the heart of the garden. Every rose they touched withered and vanished, leaving a hellish scene wherever the bloody ocean swept.

“Ha, it seems your domain is far more fragile than you imagined,” the Vampire King jeered at Liriel.

“Damn it.” Liriel strained to maintain her domain at full strength, but she could not halt the Vampire King’s relentless incursion; her garden shrank ever smaller.

“As expected of one so near to Prince, his power is formidable. But we are not so easily defeated,” I said, gripping my scythe. “Ang, I’ll leave this to you. You’re the only one who can stand against him head on now.” I offered Ang a wry smile.

“Leave it to me, my lady,” Ang replied calmly. “Though he is close to Prince, he hasn’t crossed that threshold—so long as he remains short, I can hold him back.”

“Then I’ll count on you.” I began to gather my magic, preparing for my strongest attack.

“Awooo—” Ang raised his head in a long howl. His muscles swelled, splitting his clothes, sharp claws extended from his hands, fangs jutted from his jaws, and his face lengthened until his head became that of a wolf.

This was Ang in earnest: Ang Silvermoon, King of the Silver Wolf Clan, the mightiest of all werewolves.