Reuel froze when his eyes landed on Amalia's chest, rising and falling rapidly with her breath. Her large breasts were clearly visible due to her casually opened sitting posture. Reuel's eyes widened—surprised, but unable to look away.
"Damn… they're huge," he muttered inwardly.
"Who is he?" Amalia snapped. Each word came out laced with steel, her gaze piercing into Reuel's still-distracted face.
But instead of answering, Reuel's eyes remained glued to the exposed cleavage—completely mesmerized by the unexpected view before him.
"You bastard! Have you been staring at my boobs this whole time?! I'll ask you again—WHO IS HE?!" she shouted.
Furious, Amalia smacked Reuel hard on the shoulder. Her voice was seething with rage. This was not the time for games—and she damn well knew it. Unfortunately, Reuel still looked far too relaxed.
"Uh… it's… Marcus's father," Reuel blurted, as if suddenly snapped out of his daze.
Amalia frowned.
"Marcus's father? I've never heard of him being alive. I thought his whole bloodline was long gone."
Her tone was a blend of confusion and disbelief. To her, this wasn't just a shocking revelation—it was like tearing open a chapter of history she thought was sealed shut.
"Yes, he's very much alive. Who do you think has been protecting you from the shadows for centuries without you even realizing it? He's… the unseen hand that's always been there. That's why neither the Hungarian government nor any civilians have ever found you."
"...Is everything you're saying actually true?" Amalia asked, her voice unsteady.
"Every word," Reuel said firmly.
"Then how do you know all this? Do you know him? Or… have you been hiding him this whole time?!" she pressed, her suspicion rising.
Reuel just gave a small smirk. "Well… take a wild guess."
But once again, his eyes flicked down to her still-slightly-exposed chest. That bad habit of his reared its head yet again.
"You son of a bitch! You horny bastard! Tell me who you really are!" Amalia shouted, fully losing her temper.
Without hesitation, she shoved Reuel onto the couch behind him and began pummeling him with punch after punch. She didn't give a damn about his aristocratic title or dignified aura. All that mattered now was beating the crap out of this lecherous idiot.
"W-Wait! Don't hit me! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!" Reuel cried as he tried to block her furious blows, though an amused grin still lingered on his face.
Amalia finally stopped. She took a deep breath and glared at him.
"Talk. Now."
Reuel sat up, catching his breath, then answered in a more serious tone.
"I made a deal with Alexander Corvinus—Marcus's father. He agreed to give his blood… to save Selene."
Amalia fell silent. The image of the legendary Corvinus surfaced in her mind. Her head swirled with questions.
"Is his blood really that powerful?" she asked, still skeptical.
"Alexander Corvinus is the true ancestor—the origin of both Vampires and Lycans. His two sons, Marcus and William, were each bitten: one by a bat, the other by a wolf. The result? Marcus became the first Vampire… and William, the first Lycan."
Reuel sat beside Amalia, his voice calm and measured as he began to explain. His gaze was focused—but his left hand, whether by accident or not, slid around her waist and dipped lower… landing right on her butt.
Amalia, still caught up in her confusion and fully concentrated on Reuel's explanation, didn't notice.
"So, the blood I drank… it didn't come from Marcus or William's line, did it?" she asked quietly.
"Correct," Reuel answered with a faint smirk. "It's from the bloodline of Alexander Corvinus's third son. He never got involved in the conflict between his brothers, and his descendants were kept deeply hidden. What you drank was the blood of a direct descendant of Alexander."
"Shit…" Amalia gritted her teeth. But before she could fully process the revelation, an odd sensation brought her awareness back to her body—and her eyes widened in shock.
In one swift move, she shoved Reuel hard, nearly knocking him off the couch.
"You bastard! Get your filthy hand off me! Who told you to sit next to me?!" she shouted, her voice bursting with fury.
Reuel stayed relaxed. Even as his body was pushed away, he managed to sneak another glance, thoroughly enjoying the moment.
(Internally)
Nice… soft cushion.
Outwardly, though, he just offered a calm smile, looking completely unapologetic. He knew full well he'd taken advantage of Amalia's distraction—and he was pleased with her reaction. This woman, he thought, truly embodied a medieval European noble—fierce, refined, and stubborn as hell.
Amalia glared at him, noticing how Reuel's hand hung in the air, as if reliving something… indecent.
"You perverted scumbag! You have absolutely no shame!" she spat.
But Reuel just gave her a flat smile. His gaze was steady, with a mischievous glint.
(Internally)
This noble lady… even when she's angry, it's like watching a theater performance. All bark, no bite. Selene's way scarier. Her insults actually have weight.
Amalia growled low.
"So… Marcus has been lying to us all this time? He said if one of them died, we'd all die with them! But it turns out his father—he's the original ancestor?!"
Reuel nodded slowly.
"You misunderstood. Whether Marcus, William, or even Alexander dies—you won't. You don't depend on them anymore. What keeps you alive now is your own evolved genetics."
"Bastard… Marcus has been lying to us for centuries!" Amalia hissed, her jaw clenched tight.
"Yeah. Which is why Marcus deserved to die," Reuel replied—and for some reason, his hand crept back toward Amalia's waist again.
Reflexively, she shoved him with all her strength.
"YOU'RE A BASTARD TOO! JUST DIE ALREADY!"
Her shout echoed through the room. Reuel coughed, but still grinned like an idiot who just won the lottery.
"Damn… the tigress has claws," he muttered under his breath.
Amalia narrowed her eyes.
"What the hell are you staring at now, you perv?!"
Her glare sharpened, especially when she saw his eyes flick—again—toward her chest. And just like before, his wandering hand followed suit.
"Disgusting! You filthy creep! Let go of me! And stop looking there!" she shouted angrily.
Reuel raised his hands in mock innocence.
"Just a passing glance. No harm done, right?" he said breezily.
Amalia let out a quiet huff—sharp but controlled. This time, she chose to ignore Reuel—not out of forgiveness, but because her mind was still reeling from the truth about Marcus and Alexander Corvinus. What she had heard today... was too much to process all at once.
Sensing Amalia was deep in thought, Reuel held back. He chose to give her space, at least for now. Calmly, he poured wine into two glasses, letting the silence hang between them like a thin fog.
Amalia accepted the glass without a word and downed it in a single gulp.
Gulp... Gulp... Gulp...
Reuel raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised. But he said nothing. He simply refilled his own glass, then topped off Amalia's. Bottle after bottle emptied, yet neither of them showed signs of being affected. The empty bottles began lining up on the table like silent witnesses, but their eyes stayed sharp, their bodies steady.
Reuel glanced at Amalia, puzzled. She wasn't drunk at all. His plan to get her tipsy—and maybe a little more… relaxed—was clearly a failure. He sighed inwardly, disappointed and a bit embarrassed.
But Amalia knew exactly what he was doing.
She'd sensed Reuel's sly intent from the very first sip. And instead of getting angry, she decided to play along. She wanted to see just how far this man would push his luck. So, with a teasing smile, she looked at him.
"Heh... You thought you could get me drunk? Forgot something, did you... I'm a vampire," she said softly, sweetly, but with a bite. "I don't get drunk... unless I want to."
She chuckled, clearly pleased by the flicker of embarrassment and guilt on Reuel's face.
"Laugh it up—just don't go into hysterics," Reuel muttered, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm just... enjoying myself," Amalia said, her tone softening. "It's been a while since I've felt like this."
Silence followed, but this time it wasn't awkward. They sat in their own thoughts, the occasional soft clink of glass against wood filling the quiet.
Then Amalia asked, low but firm, "So... where is Alexander Corvinus, the one you mentioned?"
Reuel turned to her, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"I can't tell you that right now. You'll find out… later," he replied.
Amalia nodded, though her expression showed she wasn't satisfied. She suspected Reuel was hiding Alexander's location for someone's safety—or for his own agenda.
"Oh, so you're protecting him?" she asked with a touch of sarcasm.
Reuel chuckled and shook his head, as if the question was amusing.
"Protecting him? Hah. You think it's that simple? If we screw up… he could kill you both. You, and Selene."
His voice was light, but Amalia felt the heavy truth beneath the words. This wasn't an empty threat. It was a warning—draped in irony.
Her eyes widened. She hadn't expected Alexander Corvinus to be that powerful. Stronger than Marcus, even more dangerous than William. And if even she and Selene couldn't match him... then he was the rightful progenitor.
Before she could finish the thought, footsteps echoed down the hallway. They both turned toward the sound.
Selene appeared, wearing a thin pajama set, her hair slightly tousled, eyes still half-lidded with sleep.
"What are you two talking about?" she asked, approaching.
Reuel—far too casually—pulled her down beside him, and without warning, kissed her. It was quick, but full of meaning.
Selene blinked, startled. Her gaze flicked to Reuel, half confused, half amused. Even after a night shared between them, she hadn't expected him to show such bold affection in front of someone else.
"I was explaining about Alexander Corvinus... to this lovely lady here," Reuel said, glancing at Amalia, who watched them with narrowed eyes.
Then, with no fuss, Reuel patted the seat beside him—and pulled Selene in closer.
"Let go! Bastard, there are people here!" Selene snapped, shoving Reuel away with force.
Reuel only smiled casually. "So, if no one were here… you'd be up for round two from last night?"
"You... you shameless pig!" Selene hissed, her face burning bright red. She immediately turned around, hiding her embarrassment.
Trying to change the subject, Selene turned to Amalia. "Lord Corvinus is an extraordinary figure. He's made countless silent sacrifices for the survival of both vampires and Lycans," she said seriously, responding to the earlier mention of Alexander Corvinus.
Meanwhile, Reuel watched Selene's reaction with amused eyes before shifting his gaze to Amalia. The noblewoman's expression was cold and sharp, treating him as little more than an annoying insect.
He ignored it, refocusing on the previous topic.
Suddenly, his watch vibrated softly. A holographic projection flickered into the air, revealing the face of Red Queen.
"Brother," Red Queen's voice came through firmly. "Michael has been captured by the Hungarian government. Additionally, one vampire was taken alive during a military raid on the Lycan stronghold where Lucian was located."
The mood shifted instantly. Tension filled the room.
"Looks like... we've got a serious problem," Reuel said grimly.
"What do you mean?" Amalia asked, rising to her feet, alert.
"What's going on?" Selene followed suit, her voice tinged with concern.
Reuel looked at them both, his eyes serious. "War is coming. Your existence—vampires and Lycans alike—has been exposed to the Hungarian government. Michael, along with another vampire, is now in military custody. That means... they know a lot."
Selene looked panicked, her eyes wide. "Then... they could mobilize their full military force to wipe us out!"
Amalia, though uneasy, kept her composure. She stared at Reuel, waiting for further explanation.
"Relax," Reuel said with a faint smile. "Alexander Corvinus will make his move. If we act rashly now, we'll only ruin a strategy he's spent centuries putting into place. Let him handle it. This is his responsibility."
But behind his calm face, Reuel had a very different plan—one that had nothing to do with the survival of vampires or Lycans. He cared about only one thing: reaching the vampire citadel, infiltrating it, and—if luck was on his side—claiming another beautiful noblewoman as a bonus.
Once his business with Alexander Corvinus was done, he would hand over the governance of Earth to Mira Han, in the world of the Underworld universe, backed by the full might of 120 Imperial fleet ships.
And once it was all over?
He'd return to Terra Aeterna—his own world—to enjoy a life of luxury and eternal peace.