Vlad walked up to the submissive Amelia and calmly glanced at her raised, round buttocks.
"Well done. You may rise."
Hearing his praise, Amelia's eyes lit up with joy.
She knew full well who this man was—an overwhelmingly powerful master, surrounded by subordinates far stronger than herself.
But Amelia was clear on what she could offer.
To catch Vlad's attention, loyalty wasn't enough. Her body also had to be of use.
For someone who had fully surrendered like her, Vlad's recognition was more important than anything else.
At this moment, Amelia had only one thought: to please him.
Vlad then turned to Viktor, the only one still standing in the hall who hadn't fled.
"Yes... it seems you're the only one here with any sense."
As this terrifying figure approached him, Viktor still felt no visible killing intent—but a bone-deep chill surged through his body, making his hair stand on end.
Before Vlad could even question him, Viktor, trembling under the suffocating pressure, dropped to his knees and pledged his loyalty out of sheer fear.
Watching Viktor kneel so quickly, Vlad let out a sigh.
"You really are clever, Viktor," he said.
"But it's a shame... you don't seem to have anything of value that interests me."
As those words dropped, Viktor, his face streaked with the blood rain, raised his head. Panic flashed in his eyes as he quickly responded:
"Your Highness Vlad, please—give me a chance to prove myself!"
"Oh?" Vlad's gaze sharpened. "You actually know who I am?"
Earlier, Viktor had shown no signs of recognition. Now, something clicked in Vlad's eyes—understanding.
He looked at Viktor again, his evaluation rising.
Truthfully, Vlad had never intended to kill him. His earlier threat was just a tactic—a test.
As a noble of Velvia, Viktor wouldn't surrender without being forced to confront reality.
Vlad believed that if he let Viktor go without pressure, the man might one day turn against him.
Looking at this frightened yet calculating vampire—one of the legendary three elders—Vlad was now convinced Viktor's surrender was genuine.
But it was based only on fear. That alone wasn't enough. If he wanted to prevent future disloyalty, he needed to take additional measures.
"Fine. I'll give you a chance," Vlad said, a mocking smile curving his lips.
Viktor looked visibly relieved.
"I heard... you have a daughter?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Viktor responded instantly.
"Then send her to my bed tonight. No objections, I trust?" Vlad said lazily.
In the Underworld, it was well known that Viktor loved his daughter dearly. If she hadn't been impregnated by the werewolf Lucien, Viktor might never have sacrificed her.
"T-this..." Viktor hesitated for a moment.
"What, you don't want to?" Vlad's voice turned cold.
Viktor immediately exclaimed, "Your Highness, I am willing!"
"It's just... Sonja is still very young. I fear—"
Before he could finish, he saw Vlad's expression darken. He stopped immediately and corrected himself.
"Your Highness, I will send her to you at once."
Vlad nodded in satisfaction, then said casually:
"Now... choose one of these lords, and kill him."
The moment he spoke, Viktor's expression hardened. Without a second's hesitation, and before the other vampire lords could react, he launched himself at the nearest one.
The thin vampire lord looked up, stunned by the sudden attack. His eyes met Viktor's, filled with disbelief and fear.
"You—!"
Before he could say another word, Viktor's hand pierced straight through his chest.
Blood spurted across Viktor's twisted face.
With a calm, almost mechanical motion, Viktor pulled his clawed hand from the man's torso. A pulpy stream of thick blood followed, dragging with it the shattered heart.
Around the room, the other vampire lords stared in horror—shocked by the brutality and the fact that Viktor had just killed his own cousin.
The fallen vampire's face was frozen in disbelief, as if asking Why?
Everyone knew that man had once been one of Viktor's staunchest supporters.
Now, as they looked at Viktor again, fear and suspicion filled their eyes.
Even Amelia, already loyal to Vlad, found herself unsettled. But with that unease came a deeper reverence for Vlad.
Viktor ignored them all, silently awaiting his next command.
He didn't know what Vlad might ask of him next, but he knew he had no choice—he had to obey.
Because he believed the tales about the infamous Vlad the Impaler. He wasn't one to make idle threats.
"Not bad," Vlad said, clapping slowly. "Decisive. Merciless."
Viktor bowed his head, standing motionless, while Vlad strolled slowly around the hall, lost in thought.
A heavy silence fell over the room. The only sounds were Vlad's footsteps and the faint, unsteady breaths of the terrified lords.
As Vlad's gaze swept across them, the vampire lords could no longer withstand the pressure. One by one, they dropped to their knees, pleading for mercy.
Perhaps they had believed that eternal life meant safety, comfort, control.
Now, faced with this nightmare, they realized how wrong they were.
Vlad watched their groveling with a cold smirk.
He said nothing.
Keeping them alive was useful.
He could use them to keep Viktor in check.
That's why he'd ordered Viktor to kill one of them—he wanted to create tension and doubt among them.
And now that Viktor had murdered his own cousin without flinching, Vlad knew he needed to surround him with a few "rivals."
A way to stir unrest. A way to ensure obedience.
It was, after all, an excellent strategy for control.