Elena narrowed her eyes slightly, a cold silver gleam flashing through her dark gaze. Her expression was deep and chilling, filled with murderous intent as she spoke:
"Is that all you've got?"
"Of course not. There's them, all the Vampire Clan, and the future of the Vampire Clan," Morgar stepped aside.
Behind him, a heavy shower of leaves suddenly began to fall along the tree-lined path leading to the chicken coop.
Three young figures, cloaked in black, descended from the trees, stepping lightly on the green leaves as they fell, the sound of rustling filling the air. The path became blanketed with leaves, soft underfoot.
Elena's brow furrowed slightly as she murmured the names of the three young men:
"Aiden, Silas, Maxwell?"
In her memory, a thousand years ago, these three had followed Vincus and brought her a generous gift. They had been Vincus's close attendants, bound by a Blood Bond, their master-servant relationship already long-established.
But at a time like this, shouldn't they have stayed by Vincus's side? Had they betrayed him and secretly severed their bonds?
Morgar, his head lowered, curled his wrinkled lips into a smile, his demeanor humble and respectful.
"Lord Elena, besides the three attendants, many others familiar to you have also come. We welcome you back to the Vampire Clan."
As his words echoed, a swirling dance of light and shadow emerged from the woods. Countless beams of sunlight pierced through the gaps in the leaves, forming irregular rays.
Above those beams, shadows moved swiftly, treading on branches with a cold, chilling wind. The atmosphere grew tense, as Vampire Clan members, drawn by Elena's scent, disregarded the burning sunlight and rushed in black cloaks, intent on capturing her.
"Nadine, Zephyr, Sylvia?" Elysia looked at the first three black-clad women, her expression one of surprise and disbelief.
"You've sided with Morgar?"
The three women's faces were cold, their gazes distant, offering no reply as they walked past Elysia and respectfully addressed Morgar.
"Lord Morgar, we have arrived."
"Ah, my dear children, you've done well," Morgar said, putting on a façade of tenderness before them.
Elena's cold gaze flicked over to them, a faint chill between her brows, and her eyes filled with barely contained anger.
"Morgar, did you drug them?"
A thousand years ago, they had become master and servant.
If the Blood Bond were forcibly broken, the servant would either suffer bodily harm or die instantly, and their master would inevitably feel the pain.
But Elena felt no discomfort, so the only explanation for their strange behavior was that Morgar had used some kind of method to control them.
Morgar smiled but did not answer, waving his hand to have the girls stand behind him.
When more and more Vampire Clan members arrived, surrounding the entire chicken coop, he slowly spoke, his tone sounding almost sincere:
"My esteemed Lord of the Vampire Clan, for your safety, I implore you to stop your stubbornness and come back with us."
Elysia stepped in front of Elena, retreating toward the yard of the chicken coop.
"Going with you, or being dragged back by you, is there really a difference? It's still all about two billion, isn't it?"
"Elysia Warlord, that's not right. At least if you come back with us, you'll spare yourself some pain and suffering," Morgar raised his hand, signaling the Vampire Clan to close in on the yard.
Elena spoke in a low, quiet voice:
"It seems there's nothing to discuss anymore."
"If you prefer, I could invite you for a drink outside?" Morgar's smile remained polite and respectful.
Elysia snorted coldly and rejected him immediately:
"Forget it. The saying 'a wolf in sheep's clothing' fits you perfectly!"
"You…" Morgar's face twitched, his muscles tightening in anger—an ominous sign, like calm before a storm.
Morgar forced a serene expression, still maintaining a veneer of politeness:
"Elysia, I advise you not to refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a punishment, or else the noble bloodline you serve will suffer the consequences."
The Vampire Clan members outside the chicken coop inched closer, some already crawling along the walls to enter the yard, blocking the way out.
Elena and Elysia were forced to retreat to the chicken pen.
They exchanged a glance and, without a word, turned in unison, slipping inside.
Morgar's patience had nearly reached its limit. His polite demeanor was replaced by a cold glare, and he commanded:
"Attack. Bring them alive."
"Yes!"
The vampires, snarling, bared their sharp teeth and immediately leapt toward the chicken coop, disappearing into the shadows.
Cluck! Cluck!
The chickens in the coop, frightened by the chaos, went into a frenzy, flapping their wings and scattering about, their movements erratic as if on drugs.
Some lower-ranked vampires, hungry and reckless, grabbed a chicken and sank their fangs into its neck, greedily drinking its blood.
The chicken struggled for a moment, then fell limp, lifeless.
Other low-tier vampires saw the carnage and followed suit, slipping into the chicken pen to feed.
In an instant, the chicken coop was engulfed in dust, feathers flying, and black shadows darting around, grabbing and pulling at the terrified chickens.
The air thickened with the smell of blood.
Outside the pen, Morgar stood with a grim expression, his hands trembling beneath his sleeves.
These fools, still thinking about drinking blood?
...
Elysia hid behind a half-height feed barrel, peering out cautiously.
"Elena, they're losing control. Should we leave now?"
Elena, emerging from the hay with bits of straw clinging to her hair, grabbed a vampire that lunged at her and twisted his neck with a sharp snap.
"Not yet."
"Not yet?" Elysia suddenly realized what Elena was planning. Was Elena hoping to use the vampire hunters to wipe out the Vampire Clan's traitors?
Elena wiped the straw off her lips, her eyes gleaming coldly as she spoke softly:
"Those who betrayed me will not be allowed to survive easily, even if it requires using methods that aren't exactly... pure."
"..."
Elysia looked at Elena's cold profile, her expression complex.
Inside her sleeve, she gripped a silver knife, tightening her hold before finally returning it to its sheath without drawing it.
"Elena, I'm here! I'm here!"
Thud! Thud!
Behind them in the chicken pen, a plump ball of fur suddenly tumbled toward Elena's feet, rolling over and getting covered in chicken feathers, happily calling out.
Elysia instantly recognized the little ball of fur, running over with joy:
"Ronan? Is it really you?"
Elena leaned back, avoiding the figure as if stepping on a hedgehog. The corner of her enchanting eye twitched, a hint of resistance flashing in her silver-gray irises:
"Mochi?"
Before her long slumber, the one thing she despised most was Mochi!
Round, chubby, like a little meatball, always following her around, impossible to shake off—who wouldn't be annoyed by it?
"Huh? I'm not Mochi, I'm Ronan! The eldest in the Vampire Clan, the longest-lived, the most steadfast, the one who loves you most, and even more beautiful than any woman!"
Ronan wasn't actually fat.
On the contrary, he had a slender, graceful frame.
Standing at least 6 feet tall by human standards, he possessed a face so stunning it could stop hearts—a high, noble brow, seductive eyes like silk, a sharp nose, beautiful contours, and lips as red as fire.
From a distance, his beauty would captivate the world—exquisite, mesmerizing, and utterly enchanting, the very definition of a breathtakingly beautiful man.
Flawless! Truly flawless!
If one were to find a flaw, it would be his Dark Gift as a pure-blood vampire: fearfulness.
He was a very timid person.
Anytime, anywhere, if he was startled, he would immediately curl up into a ball and roll away as fast as he could.
This weakness had once effectively stopped him from pursuing Elena.
Because Elena always found various ways to frighten him.
This led to him constantly turning into a ball, unable to even speak to her before involuntarily rolling away in fear.
"You're totally Mochi," Elena muttered, clearly irritated by his presence.
She ignored some things, and she deliberately shut her eyes to others.
"Elena, I'm really not Mochi! Don't you remember me? I'm the most romantic person in the Vampire Clan, the one who wants to pick stars from the sky and give them to you!"
Despite his round, chubby form, he truly tried his hardest to love this woman before him.
"Stars? You mean some broken meteorite? How dare you even mention it?" Elena scoffed, deeply disdainful.
Everyone has a time in their life they wish to forget.
She was no exception.
Nearby, Elysia stifled a laugh, covering her mouth.
"It's alright, a meteorite is still part of a star," she said, teasing.
"Exactly, exactly!" Ronan eagerly agreed.
"Fine. What are you doing here?" Elena, too tired to argue, glanced at the seemingly innocent man.
There was no escaping the image of him as a rolling, chubby ball in her mind.
Ronan blinked, a radiant smile spreading across his beautiful face. Stretching his arms, he leapt toward Elena:
"Elena, I missed you, so I secretly followed them out. Come on, give me a hug!"
Indeed, whether it was a thousand years ago or now, his pursuit of Lord VesperElena was always in the form of a sweet, eager young man.
Even though he stood over 5 feet 10 inches tall.
Seeing Ronan charge toward her, Elena wasted no time.
She raised her hand and slapped his beautiful face, forcefully pushing him away.
"Get away!"
"How can I?" Ronan pouted, looking utterly wronged. He wrapped his arms and legs around Elena, unwilling to give up.
Not only did he want a hug, he also wanted a kiss.
Elysia watched from the side, her face full of black lines.
Without hesitation, she grabbed a wooden stick and struck Ronan's head with a loud thud, knocking him unconscious.
She sneered, "Men are always so troublesome!"
It was a tense moment, and they were being chased!
Yet this fat ball was still wasting time chasing after a woman?
If I don't hit him, who should I hit?
Ronan collapsed on the ground, motionless, as if dead.
Silver light flickered in Elena's eyes, casting a cold, gleaming hue over Ronan's prone form as she ordered:
"Alright, take him back. Remember to ice him, you hit him a bit too hard."
Elysia's face darkened—ice him?
With his self-healing ability, a few hours would be enough for him to recover.
The air grew thick with the scent of fresh blood, slowly overpowering all other smells.
Elena rested her chin in her hand, twisting her stiff neck.
She removed her dark purple contact lenses and walked out:
"Let's move. The humans should be here soon."
The chicken coop was in disarray.
Objects flew through the air, and scattered chicken corpses lay everywhere, dry and brittle, harder than wood.
The low-level vampires had lost control, drinking blood in a frenzy. Under the stimulation of fresh blood, their primal instincts surged, and they savagely bit and tore at anything in their path.
They had completely forgotten Morgar's orders.
Morgar stood at the entrance, his expression dark, impossible to tell if he was angry or merely holding back his fury.
When he saw Elena emerge, he deliberately lowered his cloak's hood and turned to give a few orders.
Then, his attendants leapt toward Elena in unison.
"Raa!"
Elena bared her fangs, throwing her head back in a roar.
Her once-glorious face was now filled with cold, vicious intent.
She exuded the powerful aura of a Clan Lord.
Her fingers were like hooks, sharp as blades. With a powerful step, she leaped into the air, heading straight for the six attendants.
The battle ensued as seven figures clashed in mid-air, killing and maiming each other.
Elena was surrounded by six attendants, outnumbered six to one.
Her strength was still recovering, so victory was far from certain.
However, her natural silver-gray eyes were akin to the White Sun itself.
All members of the Vampire Clan could be burned by them.
Her eyes were called Lunar Dawn.
A few days ago, if Elena hadn't been injured, weakening her body and causing her eyes to lose their luster, she wouldn't have been in this state, seeing only a few miles ahead, no different from an ordinary person.
Now, after several days of rest, her eyes had regained some strength, enough to use in emergencies.
Elena moved swiftly among the six, dodging their attacks with ease.
As she turned her head, she suddenly grabbed the corner of one attendant's cloak and, using it as leverage, shot into the air.
Her silver eyes gleamed with a cold light as she aimed them at the shadow beneath the black cloak.
These people had betrayed her—they were of no use now!
"Ah!"
A young man screamed suddenly, falling from mid-air to land on a pile of chicken corpses, convulsing violently.
In mere seconds, he turned into a wisp of white smoke and vanished.
Only a black cloak remained, lying desolate on the ground.
The other attendants' faces changed, and they immediately scattered, seeking cover.
Lunar Dawn was not something to be trifled with.
Morgar's pale face showed a faint flicker of anger, his eyes slowly turning toward the other three Warlords.
"The time has come for you to act. Two billion, that's enough for all of you."
"Morgar, you better keep your word," Cyril said coldly, warning him.
"You want power, we want money. Let's work together and keep our hands off each other's business," Zethar's voice echoed, as ancient and grating as his name.