Chapter 236: Wrong Answer

Chapter 236: Chapter 236: Wrong Answer

A few moments after Lucian and his group vanished, the ruined, blood-soaked crater of the Khamsin mansion was silent save for the crackling of distant fires.

Swoosh. Swoosh.

Two figures materialized above the rubble, hovering in the air. They were clad in regal, dark-crimson robes, their auras dense and suffocating. They were elders of the Varga Clan, the true rulers of this territory in Eastern Europe.

"By the ancestors..." one elder muttered, looking down at the obliterated mansion. "The Khamsins... completely wiped out."

Before they could inspect the bodies, space distorted a few meters away. A lean figure with a composed expression and an overwhelming, terrifying aura stepped out of a tear in reality.

The two Varga elders instantly tensed, their hands drifting to their weapons.

The newcomer looked around the devastation, his eyes sweeping over the corpse of the Khamsin Vice Patriarch and the ash pile that used to be Tariq. He then turned to the two elders, a polite, gentle smile on his face.

"Greetings, Elders," the man said, his voice smooth. "Which vampire clan are you from? Wait, based on this territory, you must be from the Varga Clan."

One of the elders narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

The man bowed his head slightly, the picture of refined etiquette. "My apologies for my lack of manners. I am Declan Rhys. An apostle of the Dark King."

The color drained from the Varga elders’ faces. They immediately dropped to one knee, bowing their heads in deep reverence. "We apologize! We did not know you were an apostle of the Dark King. Forgive our ignorance!"

Declan chuckled softly, waving a dismissive hand. "Please, stand. We are all family here." His smile remained, but his eyes were as cold as a frozen abyss. "Tell me, do you know who the culprits are? Looking at all these dead bodies, someone was quite thorough."

One of the elders stood up, sweating profusely. "We... we do not know, Apostle Declan. The people who attacked the Khamsins were likely multiple Peak Grand Core hunters... or perhaps an Astral Realm cultivator. The destruction happened really quickly that even an experienced Patriarch like Tariq couldn’t last more than 15 minutes."

Declan shook his head slowly. "No, it wasn’t an Astral Realm cultivator."

The elders blinked in surprise.

"If it were an Astral Realm cultivator, there wouldn’t be a fight," Declan explained, stepping over a shattered pillar. "There are signs of multiple, distinct battles here. A single Astral Realm cultivator would have simply wiped them out with a thought. No, this was a coordinated assault by a team of Peak Grand Core hunters."

Declan turned back to them, his polite smile never wavering. "Is there any organization that comes to mind? After all, the Apeps were eradicated recently, too. It seems someone has declared war on our kind."

The second elder swallowed hard, his expression turning solemn. "Apostle... there is one organization. A human organization that has hunted our kind for centuries. The Knights of the Horizon."

Declan paused. "The Knights of the Horizon?"

"Yes," the elder nodded frantically. "A secret society of powerful humans operating outside the World Government. They maintain the balance and protect humanity from threats."

Declan stared at him for a long moment, then let out a soft, amused hum. "I see."

He turned his back to them, looking up at the smoke-filled sky. "I will report back to the Dark King right away of this unknown threat to the vampire species. After all, vampires on Earth are all families, aren’t they?"

"Yes, yes!" the elders agreed eagerly, bowing again.

Declan gave them one last polite smile, then vanished in a flash of spatial distortion.

The two elders looked at each other, their expressions dark with fear, before quickly fleeing the ruined scene.

A Day Later.

The basement of Lucian’s newly acquired safehouse in France.

Clank. Clank.

Chains rattled as Mr. Cain struggled weakly against the mana-suppressing restraints. The old vampire was a wreck; his hands were still regrowing, his face bruised, and his aura heavily suppressed. Apophis stood behind him, a hand firmly on his shoulder, forcing him to stay on his knees.

Lucian sat on a wooden chair opposite them, casually spinning a small dagger between his fingers. He had spent the last day resting and consolidating the massive surge of mana he had gained from devouring Tariq.

Cain glared up at Lucian, his eyes bloodshot. "What do you want with this old man? Just kill me and be done with it!"

Lucian stopped spinning the dagger. He leaned forward, a charming smile on his face. "Kill you? Cain, I find you quite useful. An old vampire with a lot of experience. You’ve lived a long time. You know the ins and outs of the vampire world."

Cain sneered. "Flattery won’t work on me, boy."

"It’s not flattery," Lucian said, his voice smooth as silk. "You see, I’m building something. A new house. A new order. I need capable people around me. With just a drop of my blood, I can elevate you. Your B-Rank fire ability would evolve. You could reach the Astral Realm. You could become a Patriarch yourself. All you have to do is swear your loyalty to me. So, what’s your answer?"

Cain stared at him for a long, silent moment. Then, his lips curled back into a hateful snarl.

"Hawk-tuah!"

A glob of bloody spit splattered directly onto Lucian’s cheek.

"Long live the Dark—!"

SQUELCH!

Lucian’s hand moved faster than the eye could track. His fingers stabbed straight through Cain’s chest, shattering ribs and mana circuits. Cain’s eyes widened in shock as Lucian coldly ripped his beating heart out of his chest cavity.

"Wrong answer," Lucian said, his voice utterly devoid of emotion.

Cain’s body slumped forward, blood pooling onto the basement floor.

Lucian looked at the heart in his hand, then crushed it to dust. He had briefly considered taking Cain’s fire ability with his Devouring Void, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Cain’s fire ability was only B-Rank. It was too weak. It would be a waste of his remaining ability slot and resources when he could hunt down an S-Rank ability in the future.

"Dispose of the body," Lucian ordered, wiping his bloody hand on a cloth.

Apophis stepped forward, a handkerchief in his hand. He offered it to Lucian. "As you wish."

Lucian took the handkerchief and cleaned the blood from his face and hands. He tossed the soiled cloth onto Cain’s corpse and walked up the basement stairs.

When he reached the main hallway, he saw Rose standing there in her nightgown, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Her red hair was a mess, and she let out a cute yawn.

"Lucian?" Rose mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "Why weren’t you in bed? It’s so late..."

Lucian’s cold, murderous expression instantly melted away. He smiled warmly, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"It’s nothing, love," he said softly. "Just taking care of some loose ends."

He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. Rose hummed happily, leaning into his chest.

"Let’s go to sleep," Lucian whispered, taking her hand.

They walked back into the master bedroom, where Clara was still sprawled out across the massive bed, sleeping soundly. Lucian climbed onto the bed, sliding under the covers and positioning himself directly between his two women.

As Rose cuddled into his left side and Clara subconsciously wrapped an arm around his right.