"So, can you talk, or are you mute like the little imp…?" Ali reached out and gripped the fang that had impaled the other vampire. He rose to his feet, his hand still on the sharpened tip. Half of his clothes had been shredded, leaving parts of his body exposed, but the wounds that once covered him were now fully healed.
In his other hand, a small object pulsed with energy—reacting violently to the presence of the larger vampire. It was the golden ring. The same cursed relic that had thrown Ali into this mess and nearly killed him.
Ali opened his palm, and instantly, the vampire's glowing red eyes locked onto the ring. With a shriek of recognition, its wings unfurled to their full span. All around them, the broken stones and shattered debris began to float upward, suspended by invisible force.
The vampire slowly opened its mouth. Vocal cords, long decayed and unused for centuries, cracked and strained as sound clawed its way out. "Hand it over… human," it hissed. Its voice was in a language Ali could understand, but it didn't make it any less terrible. It was a voice like steel dragged across bone—piercing, inhuman, agonising.
"So, you can speak," Ali muttered. He glanced down at the ring, and just then, the interface finally responded.
[Blood Ring: Ancient artifact of the High Pure-Blood Vampires. Previously belonged to the Vampire Queen and head of House Nightveil. Grants control over lesser vampires and ghouls. Allows blood pacts with Pure-Blood Vampires. Bonus: 10% slower blood loss.]
Ali smiled. His white teeth gleamed beneath the blood smeared across his face. He held the ring up and made to slide it onto his index finger when—
PULL.
The ring tore itself from his grip and launched through the air toward the vampire's outstretched hand. It halted just at the edge of the light, hovering inches from the vampire's clawed fingers.
But then, it stopped.
The vampire's crimson eyes widened in disbelief as the ring trembled in place—then began to drift backward, away from him, defying her command.
"No… how? What are you?" the vampire demanded. It staggered slightly, confused. Telekinesis was the domain of the vampire elite and a few powerful mages who had studied for decades—not something a human should command.
"This… this isn't possible," it growled.
The ring flew back into Ali's hand, and this time he slid it onto his finger. Instantly, it glowed deep red. A blood needle sprang from within, stabbing his finger. But Ali didn't flinch. He watched as a new message appeared across his interface:
[Item bonding in progress… 0% → 30% → 70% → 100%]
[Item fully bonded to player. Integrated into player interface.]
A new tab opened—[Contracts]—revealing an empty window waiting to be filled.
'So this is where the blood pacts go. Once I make a contract with a vampire, it'll be registered here… and I can trust it. Unlike everything else out here.' Ali thought, his eyes never leaving the vampire.
"That ring does not belong to you, human," the vampire snarled, rage overtaking caution. "It's mine. This is your last chance to hand it over…"
The blood pooled around Ali's feet began to rise slowly, defying gravity. It curled through the air like serpents.
Ali's expression turned cold.
"Listen here, you ugly piece of shit, overgrown bat. I don't take kindly to being threatened. I'll give you a pass for now—only because your brain's still thawing out from a few hundred years in that stone coffin."
The insult landed like a slap. The vampire's eyes blazed brighter. Its claws lengthened, gleaming in the dim light.
"So let's start this over," Ali continued, sharp and calm. "Who are you? What are you? And what's the last thing you remember happening on the continent?"
As he spoke, black veins coiled up his skin like ink in water. His left eye turned pitch black. From the shadows behind him, a second presence stirred—Shadow. The creature's single glowing purple eye opened, watching the vampire with unrelenting hunger.
'Is he… a demon? No, there's no demonic energy… but how could he hide it so completely?' the vampire thought, heart pounding in disbelief.
'Do I fight?' it wondered. But it already knew the answer would not come easy.
'Any other time, I would've turned him into blood mist with a mere thought. But now… I'm weakened. Cut off from my bloodline powers…' the vampire thought, the silence between them growing heavier by the second.
"Fine…" the vampire finally rasped.
With a sudden movement, its vast wings curled inward, folding tightly around its body like a cocoon, obscuring it completely from view. The leathery wings hissed against the air as they sealed the creature from sight.
CRACK.
A thunderous blast erupted from Ali's palm. Crimson lightning surged out and slammed into the stone floor beneath him, disintegrating it into powder. The shockwave radiated outward, shaking the very foundations of the ancient crypt. Dust and bone flew into the air.
Ali's eyes narrowed, focused. He wasn't taking any chances.
SNAP. CRACK. SNAP.
The unmistakable sound of bones realigning. It echoed through the chamber like distant thunder. Ali's head tilted as he watched the transformation begin. Skin—once leathery and pale grey—began to glow with a soft, luminescent shimmer. It shifted, smoothing itself like porcelain. Bloodless, flawless, and impossibly pale.
The vampire's wings shrank, bones cracking again as they folded and receded into her back, vanishing entirely. The darkness parted as the creature inside stepped forward.
Ali's breath hitched slightly. 'What the actual fuck…'
Standing before him now was not the grotesque monster that had threatened his life. In it's place stood a woman. She looked to be in her early twenties, same age as Ali. But she stood at six foot four, her figure graceful and terrifying in its beauty. Her golden hair shone like molten sunlight, falling straight down her back and curling gently at the ends just below her waist.
Her face could've belonged to a goddess. High cheekbones, soft jawline, lips full and red like fresh blood, and eyes—those red eyes with silver moons inside them—that seemed to stare straight into his soul.
Ali's gaze wandered lower despite himself. At the centre of her chest, nestled in her cleavage, was the same red gem—glowing faintly—now set like a pendant between a pair of full, perfect large breasts that strained against the fabric of her deep crimson dress. The gown clung to every curve of her body, flowing down to her bare feet, ethereal and whisper-silent.
Ali couldn't stop staring for a beat. 'How can something so monstrous… turn into this?' He shook the thought off but didn't bother hiding his appreciation.
"Well… that changes things," Ali said with a cocky smirk, unable to help himself. His gaze lingered for just a moment longer before he met her eyes. 'Not that I've forgotten what she really is.'
"My name is Seraphina Vaeloria Nightveil," she said softly, her voice now silken and melodic. It had none of the earlier screech. It was refined, regal—seductive and commanding all at once.
'Nightveil… That's the name of the queen, right? Wait—is she the queen?' Ali's eyes narrowed, instantly more alert.
"I am a Pure-Blood Royal Vampire of House Nightveil," she continued, "That ring you now wear belonged to my mother—the Queen of the Seven Royal Houses, appointed by the Elders themselves. It is not yours. It belongs to my blood. Return it now."
Her eyes glowed faintly brighter with her demand, and though she didn't raise her voice, the weight of her authority pressed against the room like gravity.
Ali didn't flinch. He stared her down, still smirking.
"And yet… I found it on the corpse of some low-tier bandit I left for my pet to eat." He stepped closer to the edge of the shadow, his voice sharp and mocking. "So tell me—how exactly did the Queen's sacred ring wind up in the filthy hands of a back-alley thief?"
Seraphina's expression didn't change. But the tension in her body was unmistakable.
"And you didn't answer my other question," Ali added. "What's the last thing you remember before you went to sleep?"
He stepped forward again, fully entering the darkness now. The chamber grew colder. The blood coating his body hadn't dried yet—it was fresh, thick, the scent intoxicating to her.
Seraphina's jaw clenched. Her sharp canines had extended slightly, unbidden. Her throat worked as she swallowed, trying to control her hunger. The scent of blood was maddening—rich, potent, and so close.
"You're starving," Ali said, voice low and deadly calm. "I can see it in your eyes. I know how weak even a royal vampire gets without feeding. Your powers are fractured. You're barely holding yourself together."
He stepped closer again, until there were only inches between them. He leaned in, speaking just above a whisper.
"The only reason you're still alive… is because I allow it," he said. "Otherwise, you'd already be food for my dragons."
Seraphina's lips curled slightly at the threat, but she didn't speak immediately.
Finally, her eyes—still glowing red—locked with Ali's pitch-black ones.
"The World War," she said. "I entered my slumber at the end of it. My mother was killed by the angels. The seven houses were scattered, broken. Mine—House Nightveil—was nearly annihilated. Only I and my servant survived. The same servant you killed."
She bared her fangs now, not to threaten—but out of starvation. Her hands trembled slightly, her control slipping.
Ali remained composed. But inside, gears were turning.
'So she's a royal survivor of a vampire dynasty nearly wiped off the map. And that ring? It's not just a relic—it's a throne.'
"So, Seraphina…" Ali said, voice steady, tone unreadable. "Tell me—what should I do with you?"
He tilted his head, taking in every detail of her form once again. "I've got a royal vampire in front of me. Vulnerable."
"I could let you go," he said, his voice dipping into something darker, colder. "But how dangerous would that be? Letting someone like you roam free? You could vanish, rebuild your strength, turn humans into cattle, raise an army, and come for my head one night…"
He leaned in close—so close he could feel the icy breath from her lips. Their faces were just inches apart.
"So that leaves me with one option," he whispered. "To kill you."
The words weren't a bluff. The intent behind them was real. And even Seraphina, with her immortal pride and ancient blood, felt it.
No human… no creature… would dare get this close to a Royal Vampire. Not unless they had a death wish. And yet…
Ali didn't flinch. He stood only inches from Seraphina, the ancient predator, and showed no fear. Instead, he raised his hand calmly, letting the red glow of the ring shimmer between them.
"Or…" he said, voice low, deliberate.
Seraphina's eyes flicked to the relic, her hunger momentarily overshadowed by suspicion.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice tight. "I will not be your slave."
Ali grinned. "Well, that's really up to you, isn't it?" he replied, his tone casual but laced with venom. "It's your choice whether you rot in this crypt and let your bloodline die with you… or you accept what I offer. Serve me—and gain a chance to rebuild House Nightveil. Maybe, just maybe, even avenge your mother."
He leaned closer, his words sliding like poison into her ear. "It's all in your hands, Seraphina. All in your hands…"
He circled her slowly, deliberately, taking in her silhouette with unashamed interest. Every curve beneath that flowing red gown seemed sculpted for temptation. But his mind stayed focused, sharp as ever—his interest wasn't just in her body, but in her power.
As he came full circle and faced her again, Seraphina bared her fangs. Monstrous. Ancient. Hungry. But she didn't strike. Instead, she took a slow step forward until they stood eye to eye.
Her gaze was no longer calm and elegant. It was wild.
The silver moon in her eyes had vanished, consumed by the full flush of bloodlust. Crimson veins spread like cracks from the corners of her eyes, crawling across her face. Her skin glowed faintly from the pressure building inside her. She was resisting the urge to attack with everything she had.
Ali met her gaze without blinking. The black veins beneath his skin pulsed in response, and then, without a word, he closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, the darkness around them shifted.
Purple light ignited from his pupils.
Not human. Not even close.
His dragon eyes glowed like twin lanterns in the abyss, slitted and ancient, radiating raw, primal authority. Seraphina staggered. Her hunger, her rage, her royal pride—none of it could withstand the pressure that poured from him.
She stepped back. One single step. But it was enough.
A silent defeat.
"I… I need to know more," she said at last, her voice cracking under the weight of her submission. "Before I decide."
Ali smiled. That was as good as a yes.
He stepped back slowly, letting the moment hang in the air. From the shadows behind him, Shadow moved—revealing just the tip of his enormous snout. The obsidian-scaled beast's eye glowed faintly, watching Seraphina with curiosity and restrained malice. Ali leaned against the dragon's snout like it was a throne.
Seraphina's sharp eyes twitched slightly, taking in the beast's size. Her instincts screamed at her—that thing was no familiar. That was a true dragon.
"I told you who I am," she said, regaining some composure. "Now tell me who you are. And what happens if I choose to form a contract with you."
Ali nodded. He appreciated her clarity.
"My name is Ali," he said plainly. "Not as fancy as yours. I am a human… but not like the rest."
Seraphina's brows furrowed, and she opened her mouth, ready to object.
Ali raised a finger, stopping her. "I know what you're thinking. That I can't be human—not with what I've done. You're right. I'm different. I was chosen."
He turned, placing a hand on Shadow's head.
"I am the Herald of Dragons," he declared. "They have granted me powers—beyond mortal comprehension. They serve me willingly and without limit."
Above them, high in the shadowed ruins of the cavern, Abeloth let out a guttural roar that shook the walls. The air trembled. Dust and ash fell from the ceiling like snow.
Seraphina flinched, just barely. But enough for Ali to see it.
"I am also not from this continent," he added, casually brushing blood off his arm. "Where I'm from… that's not your concern. What matters is where I'm going."
He stepped forward again, now only a few feet from her. His posture was relaxed, but the energy pouring off him was overwhelming.
"I'm a new baron in a backwater human kingdom," he said. "A few acres of land. No real influence—yet."
Seraphina tilted her head, uncertain of where he was going with this.
"But I have a very simple aim," he said, eyes boring into hers.
"What aim?" she asked, voice hushed.
"To rule the continent," Ali said without hesitation. "I am meant to stand above everyone—human, vampire, angel, beast—and I will."
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