The music swelled, its haunting melody weaving an intricate spell over the hall. Alyssara moved with a grace that defied comprehension, her body flowing in perfect harmony with the rhythm. Her every step seemed to ripple through the air, creating an almost tangible sense of wonder.
She spun, her pink hair catching the light and fanning out like a halo of rose-tinted flame. The shimmering fabrics of her garments whispered against her skin as she danced, revealing fleeting glimpses of her toned form beneath. It wasn't just a performance—it was a statement, a declaration of dominance wrapped in elegance.
Each movement was precise, yet it carried an almost otherworldly spontaneity. When she leapt, it was as if gravity itself bent to her will, letting her linger for just a moment too long before she descended like a petal falling from a tree. When she turned, her gaze swept the crowd, her cyan-green eyes meeting each onlooker's for just long enough to make their hearts quicken.
Her dance was mesmerizing, yes, but it wasn't just beauty. There was something deeper, something unnerving beneath the surface. Each motion seemed to carry an undercurrent of power, a subtle but undeniable reminder that this was no ordinary woman.
I glanced around the room. Every face was captivated. The nobles and dignitaries stared, utterly entranced. Even the women who should have known better couldn't look away, caught between admiration and something that looked dangerously close to envy. The men were worse, their gazes filled with raw desire, utterly lost in the spell she cast.
Alyssara's bare feet skimmed across the polished floor, the soft patter almost lost beneath the music. As the melody shifted into a faster tempo, her movements grew sharper, bolder, and more daring. She twirled, arms outstretched, then stopped abruptly, her body arching in a way that made the room collectively gasp.
She turned, her gaze locking briefly with mine, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe. There was a flicker of amusement in her eyes, a knowing look that sent a chill down my spine. Then she was gone again, swept back into the rhythm of the dance.
Cecilia's grip on my hand tightened further, her nails digging slightly into my skin. "She's… good," she muttered, her voice quiet but edged with something I couldn't quite place.
Rachel leaned in slightly from my other side, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Too good," she murmured, her gaze fixed on Alyssara like she was sizing up an opponent on a battlefield.
Seraphina, ever composed, said nothing, but the faint tension in her shoulders betrayed her unease.
The dance reached its crescendo, the music soaring as Alyssara spun faster and faster. Her movements became a blur of pink and gold, an explosion of light and color that made the air seem to hum with energy. Then, with a final, breathtaking leap, she landed in a perfect pose, her arms raised gracefully above her head.
The music stopped, and for a moment, there was silence. Then the hall erupted into applause, the sound thunderous and unrelenting. Alyssara bowed, her smile radiant, her cyan-green eyes sweeping the room one last time.
And in that moment, I knew—she hadn't just danced. She had conquered.
As Alyssara's eyes swept across the room, they locked onto mine. Her radiant smile widened, and she winked—an infuriatingly casual gesture that sent an icy shiver down my spine. Beside me, Rachel and Cecilia's grips on my arms tightened simultaneously, their annoyance palpable.
"Why the hell does he have to be such a magnet?" Rachel muttered under her breath, her glare drilling into me.
Cecilia didn't bother with words, instead focusing her energy into holding my hand with the kind of intensity that made my knuckles ache.
'She's just doing this to play with you,' I thought to myself, inwardly sighing. Alyssara loved chaos. Of course she'd take one look at the three princesses clinging to me and decide to stir the pot. The fact they were all princesses made it even better in her eyes—because why cause ordinary trouble when you could wreak havoc at the highest level?
'What do you think, Luna?' I asked silently.
'She didn't use her mana at all,' Luna replied, her tone calm but watchful.
I nodded slightly, agreeing. Alyssara wasn't using magic, like a succubus might, to enhance her allure. No, she didn't need to. Her sheer presence was enough. That was what made her so terrifying.
Emotions fuel mana. It's what gives power to techniques like my Hollow Eclipse.
And Alyssara? She manipulated emotions effortlessly, bending the room to her will without even tapping into her mana. It was an art she mastered so thoroughly that it felt supernatural, though it was simply an extension of who she was.
'She's not just a threat,' I thought grimly. 'She's in a league of her own among the Cult Leaders.'
But the thought darkened as my mind turned to her black mana. When Alyssara actually used her powers, she became something else entirely—a force capable of dismantling armies and toppling nations. Numbers didn't matter when the enemy was too captivated—or too confused—to fight back effectively.
And, as if that weren't enough, Alyssara wasn't just a manipulator. She was also a warrior, a combatant strong enough to fight toe-to-toe with the most formidable opponents.
'She really should have been a demon contractor instead of a vampire's,' I thought idly before shaking my head.
No, that would have been even worse. If Alyssara had aligned herself with the demons instead, her already formidable abilities would have become monstrous since she would have likely been contracted to a Demon Lord like Evelyn.
And that was a thought I didn't care to entertain.
"I hope you all enjoyed tonight's performance," Daedric Solaryn declared, raising his glass with a magnanimous smile. "This marks the first time in nearly two centuries that the Southern Sea Sun Palace has opened its doors to outsiders. Let us ensure this rare occasion is one of peace and cooperation. Do enjoy your stay here!"
;He's certainly changed his tune,' I thought, watching him closely. The hostility that had practically radiated off him earlier had all but dissipated, replaced by a veneer of welcoming charm. But that shift only made me more suspicious.
Daedric was confident now, that much was clear. Confident in his ability to pull the wool over our eyes, to conceal whatever dark secrets the palace was hiding. It was a calculated move, and a clever one at that. Open hostility might provoke Magnus into taking action—and Daedric was smart enough to know that if Magnus Draykar drew his sword, the Southern Sea Sun Palace wouldn't stand a chance.
The problem, of course, was that none of the others here suspected a thing. To them, the vampires were a chapter of history, wiped out by Liam Kagu's unmatched strength. And with the vampires gone, they assumed the Red Chalice Cult had fallen as well.
It was a dangerously naive assumption, one I needed to correct before it was too late.
My musings were interrupted when I noticed someone sitting close to Daedric. She hadn't drawn my attention earlier, her demeanor so subdued that she almost faded into the background. But now, under the soft light of the hall, her resemblance to Daedric was unmistakable.
'His daughter?' I wondered, studying her more closely.
Her features were softer than her father's, lacking the sharp edges of his imperious gaze. She seemed only a year or so older than us, her crimson eyes quiet and watchful. But beneath that calm exterior, I could sense it—power.
She was strong.
At mid Integration-rank, her talent was undeniable. For someone her age to have reached such heights was nothing short of extraordinary. In fact, her potential far outstripped Daedric's. He, for all his posturing, would never advance beyond mid Immortal-rank. She, on the other hand, had the potential to ascend to Radiant-rank.
'There's such a talent in the Southern Sea Sun Palace?' I thought, my mind racing. Someone like her could be incredibly useful—if approached carefully.
Her subdued demeanor made it clear she wasn't eager to stand out, but talents like hers rarely remained in the shadows for long. The question was, how much of her silence was her own choice, and how much was dictated by her father?