Viktor Castle, Parliament Hall
Vlad sat on the black iron throne, with the little loli Sonja standing quietly behind him, occasionally letting out soft yawns.
The dark circles under her eyes made it clear—she hadn't slept well the night before.
Whenever her eyes "accidentally" wandered to Vlad, she would instantly grow flustered. Her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest.
Panicking, Sonja quickly averted her gaze—only to glance at him again just moments later.
It was as though something about him drew her in, an invisible force she couldn't resist.
For a time, she was caught in a silent struggle with herself.
Standing off to the side, just in front of Vlad, was Amelia. Her expression was cold and proud, her very presence emanating a chilly, commanding aura. Her beauty was aloof and unapproachable—strangers instinctively kept their distance.
Had Sonja not witnessed it herself last night, she never would've believed Aunt Amelia had that hidden, vulnerable side.
Vlad shifted his gaze toward Marcus, who lay slumped on the floor like a discarded dog, and then turned to Verona.
Verona said, "Master, this guy kept trying to escape. I had no choice but to rough him up a bit."
Vlad nodded, then looked toward Viktor and said calmly:
"Viktor, you've done well. From now on, continue overseeing affairs here."
"Do your job properly, and I won't treat you unfairly. Right, Sonja?"
As he spoke, he pulled the petite girl behind him into his arms, settling her on his lap.
His fingers gently stroked her delicate face, though his eyes remained fixed on Viktor.
Suddenly being pulled into Vlad's embrace, Sonja blushed deeply and lowered her head, her body trembling slightly.
She felt the heat of her father's gaze from across the hall and could hardly bear the embarrassment.
In a moment of helplessness, she buried her little head into Vlad's chest like a flustered ostrich.
Vlad glanced at the shy girl nestled in his arms but didn't push her further. His goal wasn't to tease her—it was to send a message to Viktor.
Releasing her, he said, "Sonja's a good girl. From now on, she'll stay by my side."
Viktor immediately responded, "It is Sonja's honor, Your Highness."
Vlad nodded and turned to Marcus without another word.
"Stop pretending. Get up and talk."
As he spoke, he stamped his right foot down.
A deafening boom echoed through the hall as a crater—more than half a meter deep and over three meters wide—formed beneath him. Cracks spread outward like a spider's web.
Those familiar with Vlad's strength, like Viktor and the others, weren't surprised in the slightest.
But to little Sonja, the shock was overwhelming.
Her red lips parted slightly in awe. She looked up at Vlad with disbelief, as if seeing him in a new light.
"Come down—now!" Verona suddenly shouted toward the ceiling.
Everyone followed her gaze and saw Marcus hovering above the hall.
He stared down at the crater below, horrified. Had he not reacted in time, he could've been seriously injured—or worse.
Noticing the icy glint in Vlad's eyes, Marcus quickly wiped the cold sweat from his brow and descended, landing respectfully in front of him.
This time, he knew better than to play games.
Vlad studied him. Marcus's short brown hair was disheveled, and his eyes betrayed fear.
"Do you know why I came looking for you?" Vlad asked.
Marcus narrowed his eyes. "No… I don't."
"Yes, you do," Vlad replied, his voice low and deliberate.
That simple probe had already revealed something.
In the Underworld, Alexander Corvinus had achieved immortality after being infected with a mysterious plague.
His three children, each bearing his bloodline, inherited different powers.
But what kind of plague could possibly create genetically mutated humans?
In this supernatural world, the answer was obvious—it had to be some kind of extraordinary force.
And such a power could not be simple or benign.
That's why Vlad was here, facing Marcus.
"Let me help you remember. Tell me where your father encountered the plague," Vlad said slowly.
At the same time, he activated his telepathy to read Marcus's thoughts.
Marcus's spiritual resistance was stronger than that of ordinary people, but still not enough to block Vlad completely.
Seeing that Marcus's emotions hadn't shifted much, Vlad pushed further without waiting for an answer:
"Or did your father do something to survive the plague?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Marcus replied, frowning slightly.
Vlad grinned. "You don't really expect me to believe that, do you? A plague somehow creates an immortal human being?
And his three children—one becomes a vampire, another becomes a werewolf. So tell me: why did your father survive the plague… and then undergo such a miraculous transformation?"
Each word was sharp, relentless. Marcus opened his mouth several times but couldn't say anything.
Vlad ignored the stunned reactions around him and continued coldly:
"Even you know this story doesn't make sense."
Marcus inhaled deeply and asked, "How do you know all this? I never told anyone."
He looked at Vlad in disbelief, eyes filled with confusion.
Vlad simply smiled, enigmatic and unreadable.
"Could it be…?" Marcus's expression changed as if something had just dawned on him. He muttered to himself.
Vlad watched him quietly, then interrupted with a chilling voice:
"Will you talk now—or do you want to die?"
His eyes gleamed like cold steel, and an overwhelming murderous aura surged out, crashing down upon Marcus.
Marcus's entire body tensed up. His scalp prickled, and even his rear clenched involuntarily.
He knew—if his answer wasn't good enough, he wouldn't be leaving this hall alive.