"Hmm~"
Verona cast Vlad a flirtatious glance before nestling into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissing him fiercely.
Looking at Verona—cuddled in his embrace with a silly, satisfied smile—Vlad could only shake his head with a helpless smile.
With no other choice, he shifted the conversation and began asking about the state of the Principality of Suzette and the developments over the past few months.
As Vlad spoke, Verona snapped out of her daze. A faint blush spread across her charming face, and she quickly straightened up to report seriously.
After all, delivering this report was one of her main reasons for coming here—but the moment she saw Vlad, she had momentarily forgotten everything.
Vlad understood. It was typical behavior for someone madly in love.
After all, this kind of emotional fog was routine for someone with a severe case of romantic obsession.
"After nearly two months of development, the vampire clan has grown to more than 120 members. We've also recruited five witches, who I've placed under Muriel's supervision.
In addition, we discovered a werewolf community—eighteen werewolves in total, along with five trolls and several hundred dwarf demons."
"Dwarf demons?" Vlad asked with a trace of confusion. The term felt oddly familiar.
"Master, these dwarf demons are actually a mutated branch of the old dwarven race. While not strong in combat, they're highly skilled in forging equipment and enchanting artifacts."
Hearing her explanation, Vlad suddenly understood why the name had sounded familiar.
"In just under two months, you've achieved all this? I really didn't misjudge you, Verona."
Seeing her speaking so confidently and clearly, displaying her usual sharp and capable nature, Vlad couldn't help but praise her.
Verona's smile grew brighter.
"Also, the Transylvanian monastery and several major sites of the Holy See are currently being purged. I expect the operation to finish within three days.
And this time, I brought fifty vampires with me—they await your orders, Master."
Vlad gave her an approving look, gently caressing her smooth shoulder as he spoke:
"Let them act quickly. It won't be long before the Holy See learns about what's happened in Suzette. We can't keep it hidden forever."
"Yes, I thought the same. I just don't know if the lower-ranked vampires in Suzette will be able to contain the news. If they can, it might at least buy us a little time."
"As long as Victor isn't a fool, he'll make a move."
"I'll head to Suzette soon. You'll come with me," Vlad added thoughtfully.
The two continued talking for a long time, and Verona didn't leave until morning.
Three days later – Council Hall
"Where is Lord Grantham?"
Vlad stepped into the council hall, glanced around, and asked calmly.
"Well…"
The hesitation of the cabinet ministers didn't escape Vlad's notice, and his tone grew slightly sharper.
"If there's something to say—just say it."
An elderly man with white hair and a slightly stooped posture exchanged looks with the others. Seeing no one else would speak, he stepped forward and addressed Vlad:
"Lord Grantham's youngest daughter, Miss Sybil, was nearly assaulted by clergy from the Church while praying at St. Ann's Cathedral yesterday. Fortunately, the guards intervened in time. Otherwise..."
Bachelor Mayne shook his head heavily at the memory.
Vlad's eyes grew cold. "Those filthy Holy See scum—using the name of their god! Send the guards to arrest those involved and hand them over to Earl Grantham!"
None of the ministers dared to speak. Though the matter involved members of the clergy and typically fell under Church authority, the identity of the victim made the situation far more delicate.
"Thank you, Your Highness, for seeking justice on my behalf."
A calm voice rang from the doorway as Lord Grantham entered. Though his demeanor was composed, the deep fury in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.
"However, I believe we shouldn't interfere too directly. I'm confident Deacon Lucian will offer me an explanation."
"Oh? Really?"
Vlad looked at him deeply, his expression unreadable.
"Your Highness, I'm just as furious—but let's put this matter to rest. I trust there will be a proper resolution."
Grantham controlled his anger and replied.
"I understand. You're thinking of the bigger picture—you don't want the kingdom to enter conflict with the Holy See over this. Since you've made your decision, it's not my place to interfere.
But if the Holy See fails to give you a satisfactory answer—I will make them answer to me."
Lord Grantham was clearly moved by Vlad's words. A flicker of gratitude passed through his eyes.
As the ministers departed, Vlad remained seated on his throne, deep in thought.
"The Earl of Grantham is too restrained. His daughter was nearly assaulted, and he still hesitates to take a stand."
"Which does he value more—his family or his faith?"
The voice came suddenly.
Mirena emerged from a side corridor, holding a young girl's hand, her expression filled with indignation.
Behind her walked Sybil Crawley, the daughter of Earl Grantham.
She had long, dark brown hair tied neatly behind her head, and her elegant black dress outlined a tall and curvaceous figure. Her skin was fair, and her features delicate and slightly seductive. She looked at Vlad with a timid and uneasy gaze.
"What's this? The little girl who used to follow me around everywhere doesn't recognize her big brother anymore?" Vlad smiled and teased gently.
From Sybil's red, puffy eyes, it was obvious her emotional state was still fragile.
Hearing Vlad's familiar tone, Sybil looked up at him shyly.
Realizing he hadn't changed—still the same warm and gentle older brother—she felt a wave of warmth in her heart.
Inexplicably, her eyes turned red again. She quickly raised her hands to wipe them, a bit embarrassed.
"No, Brother Vlad, I've missed you all these years! If you don't believe me, ask Sister Mirena."
Still as shy as ever, Sybil stirred Vlad's protective instincts. He stepped forward, gently brushing her hair like a child and said seriously:
"Don't worry, Sybil. As your brother, I'll make sure you receive justice."
Feeling the warmth of his hand on her head, Sybil looked up at his gentle face, and a single tear slid silently down her cheek.