Without hesitation, Marcus made his choice under the crushing pressure of Vlad's terrifying murderous intent.
"Your Highness, it's in Spring Village."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the oppressive aura vanished, and Marcus finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He cautiously lifted his head, observing Vlad's expression, then continued:
"It's a small village on the northern border of Daggerhorn. I once tried to locate it using information passed down by my father, but... I couldn't get close."
Vlad raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You couldn't get close?"
"Yes. Every time I approached, a strong sense of dread overwhelmed me—like a warning in my heart, screaming that if I took another step, I'd die instantly."
By the end, Marcus's voice trembled slightly.
Seeing the fear flicker in Marcus's eyes, Vlad's interest only deepened.
"Very well. You understand what you're dealing with."
"And since you answered my question, I won't be stingy. Tell me—what reward do you want?" Vlad said.
"Reward...?" Marcus looked genuinely stunned. He thought merely escaping death was the best outcome he could hope for. He hadn't expected a reward at all.
Noticing Marcus's hesitation, Vlad added, "While I'm in a good mood, speak now. Later... it might be too late."
Encouraged by this, Marcus quickly made up his mind and said without hesitation, "Your Highness, I want my brother—William. Please release him."
"I promise he'll obey me. He won't attack humans indiscriminately again—I swear!"
Vlad's lips curled into a faint smile. He looked deeply into Marcus's eyes and replied, "Alright."
"No problem. Viktor." Vlad turned to the side.
He had intended to release William, the werewolf—but William was Viktor's prize. Vlad couldn't offer William's release without Viktor's consent. Doing so might deepen Viktor's insecurity.
After all, if Viktor felt that anything he possessed could be taken away by Vlad at any moment, it could cause complications later on.
Although Vlad had never truly trusted Viktor, as a leader, he still had to take his subordinates' feelings into account.
They couldn't read his mind—they could only judge by what he did.
"No problem, Your Highness," Viktor replied. After a brief hesitation, he nodded in agreement.
Still, when he turned to Marcus, his gaze was cold and flickering. His displeasure was obvious. To Viktor, all of this was Marcus's fault.
Vlad leaned back in his chair, watching the situation unfold with an amused smile.
Only Amelia, standing quietly at the side of the hall, looked at Vlad with a thoughtful expression.
Vlad didn't remain long in Viktor Castle—just under three days.
On the second day, he convened a meeting of the vampire lords.
The topic: how to spread the werewolf plague into territory ruled by the Church.
The goal was twofold—first, to muddy the waters and shift the Church's focus onto the werewolves, and away from the vampires. Second, it was a way to gauge the Church's real power.
Unsurprisingly, the vampire lords were thrilled by the idea.
It would not only reduce the pressure from the Church, but Vlad also offered generous rewards. Those who performed well would be elevated to high-ranking vampires—and could even become the leader of the Vampire Council.
The temptation was enormous.
Even though they all understood they were merely pawns in Vlad's grand plan, none could resist the lure of power.
Inside a room in Viktor Castle.
At dawn—
Vlad released the woman who had spent the entire night in his arms.
As he looked down at the blissful expression on her face, he smirked quietly to himself.
He had no intention of showing mercy or softening toward Amelia—no matter how special her preferences were.
His fingers gently stroked her smooth, pale skin, still marked by fresh red welts.
As he caressed her snow-white back, a shiver ran through her body, her skin erupting with goosebumps.
Looking at her cold, beautiful face—flushed and barely conscious—Vlad suddenly lifted her chin and leaned in close.
"Hate me, Amelia."
Her blue-green eyes opened like a startled kitten. She blinked in confusion, then instinctively shook her head and whispered softly:
"No… I don't hate you, Master."
"Right now, I only love you..."
Her voice was so faint, it could barely be heard—like the hum of a mosquito.
If Vlad hadn't had such sharp hearing, he might have missed it entirely.
He studied her face with a thoughtful expression.
Clearly, after these few nights of "training," Amelia's feelings for him had changed.
If Vlad had studied psychology, he would have realized Amelia was exhibiting textbook Stockholm syndrome.
Though he didn't know the clinical term, he could tell her words were not calculated—they were subconscious and genuine.
That realization caused a subtle shift in his attitude toward her.
And that subtle change—small as it was—didn't escape Amelia's sharp senses.
"Amelia," Vlad said, his voice softer than ever before, "among all the lords, I trust you the most."
"Can I count on that trust?"
Amelia looked up at his handsome yet commanding face. Without hesitation, she nodded.
"Master, I will be your most loyal hawk and dog."
Vlad looked into her eyes with approval. "I believe you."
"I'll grant you more power. You'll help manage things in my name."
"Especially Viktor. That man has too many schemes."
"Master, rest assured. I'll be your eyes and ears here—your claws and fangs. Whatever you ask, I'll execute it without question."
Vlad nodded in satisfaction at her eagerness. His gaze dropped to her slender, enticing neck—then he leaned down and bit her gently.
A soft, intoxicating moan echoed through the room.