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In the castle hall, the king’s council continued.

Gorod issued several appointments, finalizing the delegation’s roster.

The list took into account the interests of all factions, including Chancellor Bashir—who insisted on sending troops—and his supporters; the nobles raised no objections. Zax and the others suggested that, to demonstrate sincerity to the Snow Domain, in addition to the marriage alliance, it would be best to send a batch of gifts. “Wraiths love gold; it is said that Storm City was built of gold.”

“Ancient royal gold coins are the best gift.”

The gold coins Zax referred to had a special origin; they were hidden deep within Golden Rock Fortress, yet did not belong to Gorod. To be precise, these coins were the legacy of Queen Yin and should have been left entirely to Cen Qing.

Gorod had seized them but could not openly claim ownership, as such a claim would lack legitimacy. This had become a source of deep anxiety for the king.

With the Snow Domain Alliance on the agenda, sending these gold coins would not only curry favor with the Wraiths but also cut off any possibility of Cen Qing inheriting the legacy. Zax had gone to great lengths for this.

He held a grudge.

As long as he could make Cen Qing miserable, he would consider his revenge complete. “Royal gold coins?” Gorod hesitated, clearly reluctant.

He came from a noble family, though his lineage had since fallen into decline. Before ascending the throne, he had led a knightly order in campaigns across the land, amassing vast spoils of war and amassing a fortune.

However, compared to Queen Yin’s inheritance, everything he possessed lacked true substance.

Seeing his wavering resolve, Zax seized the opportunity to fan the flames: “Your Majesty, the inheritance claimed by the First Prince includes the gold coins of Queen Yin.” If he didn’t give them to the Wraiths, was he supposed to give them to Cen Qing?

He was confident the king would make a choice.

Hearing this, Gorod raised his eyes to look at him, his dark gaze piercing through his pretense, as if able to see the deepest schemes within his heart. The king did not take offense, nor did he call him out on the spot.

“To the Witch Spirit King?”

Gorod recalled Cen Qing’s threat against him. He laughed.

His laughter grew louder and louder, becoming impossible to contain. The sound echoed through the hall, almost grating on the ears. After a long moment, he finally had his fill of laughter.

“Zax, you sly bastard, you’ve got a clever mind.”

It was hard to tell whether this was a compliment or sarcasm.

Zax forced a wry smile. Finding no fitting words to reply, he simply bowed his head, choosing to take it as a compliment: “Your Majesty, it is my honor.”

Things were unfolding exactly as he’d hoped.

Gorod accepted his suggestion, waved his hand, and added tens of thousands of royal gold coins to the gift list, listing them specifically on the first page.

“I am certain the Lord of the Snow Domain will appreciate this gift,” Gorod said, unfurling the parchment and smiling once more. “I hope my son will as well.”

“Your Majesty, you have made a wise decision,” Zax flattered him earnestly, while his sycophants chimed in from the sidelines, making no attempt to hide their fawning. Most of the other nobles remained silent, offering no opinion on the matter, their eyes shifting restlessly as they clearly weighed their own thoughts.

Several corridors away from the council hall, in Queen Zuona’s palace, the atmosphere was now incredibly oppressive, filled with gloom, resentment, and anger.

The doors to several secret chambers stood open, and goblins bustled in and out, carrying box after box of jewels out of the rooms. These boxes were all uniform in size, with identical markings stamped on their lids for easy inspection at any time.

This was originally Zuona’s order, intended to distinguish jewels of different origins. Now, however, it served the thorn vine maidens and the goblins.

Moli stood guard at the door, holding the inventory list, and announced in a clear voice, “Open them all. Make sure not a single piece is missed. And, of course, don’t take the wrong ones.” Moli was serious and meticulous.

She ordered her attendants to open the lids in full view of the Queen, remove all the jewels inside, and check them one by one. Little did she know that this action caused Zuona even greater heartache.

The goblins were small in stature but possessed astonishing strength. They could lift chests dozens of times their own weight, and working in pairs, they moved with ease, striding swiftly while carrying one “little mountain” after another.

Several thorn vine maidens stood in the corridor, watching the goblins march away in formation. At the same time, they kept a close eye on the Queen and her ladies-in-waiting, cold glints flashing in their eyes, their fierce intent to kill laid bare.

They did not mind a confrontation; in fact, they were even anticipating the other side making the first move.

Black mist swirled at their feet, igniting the madness and savagery deep within them. Like beasts, they sought to devour their prey. “These are the last five crates,” said several goblins as they carried the crates past, pausing briefly before the door to the secret chamber. “Have you checked them all?” asked Moli.

“Yes,” the goblins answered honestly. “Not a single item is missing; the extra ones have already been removed.”

Satisfied, Moli turned the parchment scroll, took a charcoal pencil, and drew a line across the bottom, signifying that all of Queen Yin’s jewels had been recovered.

“No, one is still missing.” A thorn vine maiden stepped past her and approached Queen Zuona, whose face was ashen. The queen’s lady-in-waiting tried to step forward to stop her, but was forcefully pushed aside.

Her strength was overwhelming; the ladies-in-waiting staggered backward, their lower backs colliding with the table corners and the sculptures in the room, emitting a crisp sound as their bones nearly snapped.

Before the ladies-in-waiting could regain their balance, black thorn vines sprouted wildly at their feet, wrapping around their bodies with their sharp tips aimed at their eyes, leaving them unable to move and frozen in contorted positions.

The scene left everyone in awe.

The maids and servants in the hall seemed frozen in place, every single one of them staring wide-eyed, falling instantly silent. A flash of terror crossed the eyes of the older ones, their pupils suddenly contracting.

They suddenly recalled events from years past.

These ferocious thorn vine maidens had once attempted to assassinate the king!

That battle had been incredibly brutal; the steps leading up to the palace had been stained red with blood. Even now, recalling it sent shivers down their spines; they couldn’t help but tremble all over, their fingertips growing ice-cold.

The thorn vine maidens approached the Queen, making a show of lifting their skirts and bowing.

Just as she was bending over, she suddenly looked up, the corners of her mouth curving into an eerie smile, her eyes cold as ice. “The Dragon Blood Stone—you shouldn’t be wearing it.”

As she spoke, a cluster of thorn vines sprouted from her palm and instantly lunged toward Zuona’s face.

Zuona leapt to dodge, but the thorn vines followed her like a shadow, precisely snapping the necklace around her neck. Large pearls fell to the ground, scattering across the polished floor and rolling in different directions.

The maid snapped the pearl necklace, taking only the gem set in the pendant—a vivid crimson, as pure as blood, identical in hue to the one Cen Qing wore.

“You have no right to wear the Queen Yin’s jewels,” the maid said coldly, sparing Zuona not a shred of dignity. Zuona’s face turned ashen; rage filled her chest, her sharp fangs piercing her gums, and her eyes turned crimson.

“How dare you!” She glared at the maid across from her as a gale whipped around her, sending her magnificent skirt billowing wildly. The maid stood unflinching; she was actually smiling.

Madness, darkness, and pure defiance.

She was waiting for Zuona to make her move—and even more eager to seize the opportunity to kill her.

“Yuanwei, that’s enough.” Moli tucked away the parchment scroll, darted between the two, and extended her arm to block the maid. It didn’t matter if a few court ladies were killed or injured; for the Queen, now was not the best time to act.

The King had summoned the nobles for a council; all the major nobles were in the palace. If the Queen were to die suddenly, it would bring trouble upon His Highness. His Highness was willing to protect them, so they should also consider the consequences.

Yuanwei understood Moli’s concerns. She suppressed the dark aura and flashed the Queen a malicious grin, enough to make her seethe with rage. Though she hadn’t achieved her goal, the maid felt no regret.

After all, Queen Zuona was insignificant; it was Gorod who truly deserved to die.

Moli stopped her companion and curtsied gracefully to the Queen: “Her long imprisonment has robbed her of her reason; she occasionally cannot control her behavior. Please forgive her rudeness.”

“Rudeness? Merely rudeness?” Zuona was furious, finding the whole situation utterly absurd. She was the Vampire Queen, crowned with a royal diadem—the most noble woman in the Vampire Kingdom!

She couldn’t touch Cen Qing—was she supposed to put up with his handmaiden as well?!

“Wearing the Dragon Blood Stone is against the rules to begin with.” Sensing the other’s attitude, Moli had no intention of continuing to be polite; playing along was a waste of time, so she decided to cut straight to the chase. “These jewels are the legacy of Queen Yin and should rightfully be inherited by His Highness Cen Qing. Your hoarding them, wearing them, and claiming ownership of them is not a matter of honor.”

As a noble baroness and the current Queen of the vampire clan, her status was indeed exalted. But that didn’t mean everything.

Zuona’s concealment of Queen Yin’s jewels and her attempt to seize her stepson’s inheritance were undoubtedly a disgrace. Once word got out, she would be mocked by all the royal families and nobles.

If she did not wish to continue bringing shame upon herself, she would do well to compromise. Hearing the threat in her words, Zuona gritted her teeth but was powerless to act.

Unless she proposed a more suitable candidate for the marriage alliance to shatter Cen Qing’s leverage, she would have to swallow her pride.

“If you have no further instructions, please allow me to take my leave.” Moli bowed to Zuona once more, her movements precise yet devoid of any respect. After a brief two-second bow, she straightened up, summoned everyone to leave the palace, and carried the jewels back to the Black Tower.

The tide of black thorn vines receded like a wav, until there was no trace left.

The ladies-in-waiting, newly freed, all collapsed to the ground, their faces ashen. Two of them were gravely injured; the thorn vines’ poison had seeped deep into their bones, and every movement felt like rolling on steel needles—a torment worse than death.

The maids and servants dared not move a muscle, let alone make a sound.

Everyone looked at the Queen, whose face was dark with anger, and their hearts pounded with fear, cold sweat soaking their collars.

“Your Majesty…”

Thud!

In the blink of an eye, the court lady who had spoken was flung backward.

She flew across nearly half the room, crashing into the wall and sending blood spattering everywhere.

A sharp ornament had pierced her body from behind, leaving her hanging from the wall. Bright red blood gushed from her mouth, soaking her long gown. She coughed incessantly, her face rapidly turning ashen, and she grew faint from blood loss.

The others were terrified, gazing at Zuona in fear; not a single one dared to step forward to check on the lady-in-waiting.

The vampire clan possessed tenacious vitality; the lady-in-waiting would not die easily. But with a wound to her heart, she was destined to suffer torment and endure agony for some time.

“Cen Qing, descendant of Queen Yin,” Zuona’s voice was eerie and low, almost as if squeezed through clenched teeth. “This won’t end here. There’s plenty of time ahead—we’ll see what happens!”

Outside the castle, Moli and her party had traveled a long road, braving the snow to return to the Black Tower.

In the middle of the tower, the painters gradually set down their brushes, gathered their easels, and filed out of the room. They would spend several days in the Black Tower until the paintings were all completed to the satisfaction of both Cen Qing and Gorod.

As doors opened and closed, Cen Qing rose from his desk, raising his arms to stretch.

Hearing the flapping of crows’ wings, he strode to the window, pushed open the metal shutters with both hands, and peered out, just in time to catch sight of the procession returning from the palace.

The Thorn Maidens, now refreshed, walked with a spring in their step. There were also goblins carrying trunks; they chatted as they walked, looking in high spirits.

Cen Qing leaned his hands on the windowsill, silently counting the long line of chests, and couldn’t help but feel his spirits lift. Having lived two lifetimes, he rarely harbored obsessions.

But once he set his mind on something, he would not rest until he achieved his goal.

For now, he was merely collecting a small portion of the interest; he wouldn’t deal a crippling blow to his enemies. There was plenty of time ahead. With that thought, Cen Qing broke into a smile.

From his vantage point, he waved to welcome the Thorn Maidens and the goblins back.

The gem-studded chain holding his hair loose slipped, and his black hair cascaded over his shoulders, billowing wildly in the wind. Like a black web, it was about to spread a deadly trap, entangling unsuspecting prey and leading them to their doom.