When Cen Qing awoke, a dazzling silver glow filled his vision.

For a moment, his mind went blank; he had no idea where he was.

The light rippled like water, far too dazzling to look at. He instinctively reached out and grasped a strand—cool and silky, as if he were clutching a handful of moonlight.

“You’re awake?”

The voice reached his ears, and Cen Qing snapped back to full awareness.

His senses returned, dispelling the last remnants of drowsiness.

He blinked, still holding onto the strand of hair, and turned his head to look over. There, Wu Ying lay on his side beside him, propping his head up with one hand, his silver hair cascading over his shoulder and onto the pillow.

The collar of his nightgown was slightly open, revealing a slender neck and delicate collarbone.

The morning light crept in quietly, filtering through the gaps in the bed curtains to fall across his back, softening the chill around him. It made one want to reach out and touch him, to confirm whether he was truly there or merely a beautiful illusion in the morning light.

“Did you sleep well?” Wu Ying leaned closer to Cen Qing, his fingertip brushing against the rim of his ear as he lifted his chin. A cold breath drew near, resting on the side of Cen Qing’s neck, while sharp fangs slowly traced the skin—a sensation both suggestive and tantalizing.

Based on the books he’d read, Cen Qing was certain that Wraiths had no craving for blood. But at this very moment, Wu Ying—biting into his neck—seemed more like a member of a vampire clan than he did.

“Your Majesty, what are your plans for today?” Cen Qing obediently tilted his chin upward, allowing the other to take control of him. His arms wrapped around Wu Ying’s shoulders, his fingers running through the long, silvery hair, casually lifting a few strands, watching them slip through his fingers like scattered starlight.

“I am going to the hunting grounds.” Wu Ying took Cen Qing’s hand, interlacing their fingers. His tone was gentle, yet his gesture carried an irresistible force. “The hunting grounds?” Cen Qing couldn’t help but feel curious.

“It’s a wedding tradition of the Wraiths.” Wu Ying took Cen Qing’s finger, raised it to his lips, and kissed it lightly, then bit down on the knuckle that had turned slightly pale. “Have you forgotten what I said?”

As he spoke, he continued to close in on Cen Qing, his eyes darkening as they locked firmly onto him, radiating boundless danger. A volatile temperament seemed to be another trait of a tyrant.

Cen Qing showed not the slightest sign of panic. He took the initiative to pull Wu Ying closer, his fingers tracing the collar of his shirt as he guided Wu Ying’s hand to rest on his neck: “Your Majesty, I remember every word you’ve ever said; I’ve never forgotten a single one. It’s just that I’ve never seen the Wraiths’ hunting grounds before, so I can’t help but be curious.”

He paused deliberately, a shadow flitting across his dark eyes. His calm voice carried a hint of sorrow—even if feigned, it was heartbreaking. “Before I met you, my life was spent in captivity. For a full hundred years, I never once stepped outside the Black Tower, because my father would not allow it.”

“Until I became your betrothed.” Cen Qing gazed intently at the Wraith King, his soft lips brushing against the corner of his mouth. His voice was firm and filled with gratitude. “You set me free. I am grateful to you, I adore you, and I wish for you to become my husband, to rule over everything about me.”

Wu Ying stared intently at him, his fingers slowly tightening. The next moment, he cupped the back of his neck and fiercely deepened the kiss, as if he intended to devour him whole.

Cen Qing did not push Wu Ying away; instead, he crossed his arms around the back of his head, pulling him even closer.

“May I have the honor of inviting you to walk with me, my golden rose?” Holding Cen Qing’s wrist with one hand, Wu Ying slowly raised his head, a fleeting emotion brewing in his eyes—one that was hard to grasp.

Cen Qing had no reason to refuse, nor did he intend to.

“It would be my honor, Your Majesty,” he said with a smile.

Outside the bedroom door, the Thorn Vine Maidens and several snow sprites bumped into each other.

Facing each other, they paused in the hallway and simultaneously turned to look at the tightly closed door—the maidservant had come to wake Cen Qing, while the snow sprites had come to seek instructions from the palace’s master.

“His Majesty is here as well.” 

“All night long.”

The snow sprites coexist with Storm City; as long as the Wraith King remains in the palace, they can always pinpoint his exact location.

The thorn vine maids exchanged a glance; their expressions were subtle, making it difficult for outsiders to discern their meaning. Each of them knew exactly what the others were thinking.

However, none of them were in a hurry to speak. They had no intention of commenting on the Wraith King’s presence in Cen Qing’s bedroom. Before the group could knock, the door suddenly swung open from the inside.

The Wraith King stepped out of the room.

He wore a silver robe, his long hair falling loosely over his shoulders like a flowing waterfall. A gem-encrusted chain was wrapped around his waist; two of the gems set in the clasp were missing—they must have been left behind in the room.

“Your Majesty.” The snow sprites bowed respectfully.

The maids stood with their hands clasped and stepped aside, watching as the Wraith King walked down the corridor until his figure vanished behind the crystal columns.

As he passed, the walls on either side reflected a soft glow, and the murals on the dome came to life, as if celebrating the most perfect being in the Snow Domain.

This palace is alive.

Over the long ages, it had gradually developed a mind of its own, capable of expressing itself at will. In the Four Kingdoms, this was an absolutely rare occurrence.

The thorn vines were utterly astonished and stood frozen in place.

The snow sprites, long accustomed to such scenes, paid no heed to the changes in the corridor; they hurriedly took their leave of the maidservants and followed the Wraith King.

“Your Majesty, please wait!”

“Your Majesty, the Elders are about to arrive; you cannot appear like this!”

They were constantly worried about the Wraith King’s occasional acts of caprice.

The maids snapped out of their daze, quickly regained their composure, and raised their hands to knock on the door. After receiving permission, they pushed the door open and filed in one after another.

Led by Moli, the maids held trays containing Cen Qing’s formal gown, matching sash and jewelry, as well as newly sewn gloves and a cloak crafted by the tailors.

The room was brightly lit.

The morning breeze ruffled the window curtains, bringing a hint of coolness without making anyone feel cold.

A large bed stood against the wall, its headboard pressed tightly against it; relief patterns on either side of the bedposts resembled a pair of outstretched wings. Cen Qing sat on the edge of the bed, pulling back the bed curtains with one hand while tucking her collar in with the other.

The thorn vines Maidservant’s gaze was sharp; through the open neckline, she clearly spotted a red mark—obviously not caused by sleep.

“Your Highness, did you sleep well last night?” Moli stepped forward first. Though she harbored doubts, she asked nothing. She simply observed Cen Qing closely, confirming that the blood curse on his body was weakening and that there were no signs of the poison taking effect.

It seemed Yuanwei had told the truth after all, she thought.

“Not bad,” Cen Qing said as he rose from the bed and stretched his arms in the morning light.

He turned to look at the Maiden of the Thorn Vines, a smile blooming across his handsome face—a rare sense of ease, bright and unclouded—that made Moli smile involuntarily as well.

By the time she realized it, she could no longer suppress the upward curve of her lips.

Seeing Cen Qing like this, Juandan and Yuanwei exchanged glances, the same suspicion forming in their minds. But with Moli standing in front of them, they dared not act out of line.

Heaven only knew how strict this head maid was—she wouldn’t tolerate any vulgar language polluting Cen Qing’s ears.

“I know what you’re worried about,” Cen Qing said before Moli could ask. He returned to the bedside, bent down to pick up the sleep-deprived snow leopard cub, cradling it in one arm while rubbing its ears with the other. The cub swiped at him with even more vigor, clearly enjoying the interaction. “The poison in my body is subsiding. I don’t think it’ll be long before it’s completely gone. And my blood curse—it’s fading as well.”

His slender fingers brushed against his neck. Recalling the moment the cold blood slid down his throat, he couldn’t help but feel a sudden thirst. This sensation was extremely rare.

Until yesterday—or, to be precise, until he drank the Wraith King’s blood—he had never experienced it before.

“You and the Wraith King…” Moli seemed to be struggling to find the right words. Seeing her like this, Juandan and Yuanwei grew anxious, wishing they could speak for her. Before she could even ask, Cen Qing could already guess what she wanted to say.

“He slept here last night. Other than that, nothing happened.” Cen Qing let go of the snow leopard, which, surprisingly, didn’t run off immediately but instead rubbed against his legs, clearly afraid to stray too far.

“Is that all?”

“He gave me some of his blood.” Cen Qing shrugged, admitting to himself that he felt a pang of regret. The Wraith King was more traditional than he had imagined.

A domineering tyrant displaying restraint and consideration. A contrast he had never imagined.

Hearing Cen Qing’s words and seeing his expression, Moli didn’t know how to express her feelings at that moment.

It was as if a carefully nurtured seed had finally sprouted, filling her with deep satisfaction yet also a touch of melancholy. Regardless, she always chose to focus on the positive. The thorn vine maiden adjusted her mindset and quickly regained her composure.

Cen Qing went about putting on his shirt; the fabric glided over his shoulders, his shoulder blades rising with each movement. His back was smooth, his waist supple—somewhere between adolescence and young adulthood, blurring the line between youth and maturity, exuding a unique allure.

The next moment, the buttons were fastened, and the jacket was pulled over the shirt.

A gem-encrusted belt buckle fastened at her waist, and the alluring aura dissipated; the vampire clan prince once again became gentle and serene, bearing no resemblance to a creature of darkness, his demeanor bordering on the sacred.

“Goblins are not permitted in the castle for the time being; your breakfast has been prepared by mountain people.” Moli combed Cen Qing’s long hair, wrapping it into a bun with a hairband, the ends falling behind her shoulders.

“Mountain people?”

“They live beneath the castle,” the thorn vine maid said, tapping her toes so the soles of her shoes clicked crisply against the floor. “They’ve lived in Storm City for generations, serving the Wraith King exclusively—that’s how the snow sprites explained it.”

“I see.” Cen Qing adjusted his collar; the facets of the gem brushed against his fingers, stirring something in his heart. He suddenly turned around, his fingers groping beside the pillow, and, as expected, found two gems—from the Wraith King’s waist chain.

Recalling how they had fallen, Cen Qing felt a surprising flush of heat rise to his cheeks.

Avoiding the puzzled gaze of the thorn vines, Cen Qing tucked the gems away, slipping them into his shirt pocket with perfect nonchalance.

“As far as I know, are there mountain people among the rebel forces?” He grabbed his cloak with one hand and spoke as he walked toward the door, successfully diverting the maids’ attention.

“The Mountain People consist of different tribes, numbering over a thousand. They have distinct customs and ways of life, and their appearances vary greatly as well.” Moli quickened her pace, opening the door a step ahead of Cen Qing and stepping aside to wait respectfully. “The Mountain People involved in the rebellion come from the west, from the hilly regions near the savage tribes. They are very distant from the Mountain People of the Snow Domain—one could say they have absolutely nothing to do with each other.”

“Like the wandering vampires?” Cen Qing stepped into the hallway and asked offhandedly.

“It’s a completely different concept. Though both are rebels, the wandering vampires are far more dangerous. They are loyal to neither Gorod nor to your mother. With nowhere to call home, they act with utter recklessness. If you encounter them, you must kill them—show not the slightest mercy,” Moli said solemnly.

Cen Qing paused slightly and looked toward the floor-to-ceiling window beside him.

A beam of colored light shot in through the window, landing in the palm of his hand. As he clenched his fingers, it quickly vanished without a trace.

“I understand.”

The corridor was long, cold, and desolate.

Walking past the rows of columns lining the corridor, he could clearly hear his own footsteps and see his silhouette cast against the wall.

This environment, so different from the Black Tower, was far too bright, making Cen Qing feel a bit unsettled. It would likely take some time for him to fully adjust.

Cen Qing had been invited by the Wraith King to go hunting; the plan would not change. Before setting out, he had a few hours to spare and could visit the guest quarters. Though the time seemed ample, it was actually quite tight.

Not wanting to be late for his date, Cen Qing quickened his pace along the way. Halfway there, he encountered the snow sprite waiting for him, who led him to the dining hall. The dining hall was located on the first floor of the castle; upon pushing open the door, he was greeted by a magnificent, opulent hall.

A five-tiered crystal chandelier hung from the center of the vaulted ceiling, and towering columns stood in rows; walking among them felt like being in a giant forest, where one inevitably felt small in comparison.

“Your Highness, please.” The snow sprite led the way, pulling back a high-backed chair with both hands and inviting Cen Qing to sit. Once he was seated, the snow sprite clapped her hands.

Steaming hot dishes appeared on the table as if out of thin air; in an instant, their aroma filled the room, whetting Cen Qing’s appetite.

“Please help yourself,” said the snow sprite.

Cen Qing picked up his utensils and began with the vegetables.

The mountain people’s cooking was quite good; while the seasoning differed slightly from that of the goblins, it still suited his taste.

They had strictly followed the maid’s recipe, refraining from adding their own touches; this cautious approach paid off, and Cen Qing was very satisfied with his first meal. The snow leopard cub was also brought into the room.

After the maid set it down, it was given a large bowl of goat’s milk and a whole piece of fresh venison. The Wraith King did not make an appearance until Cen Qing had finished his breakfast.

As he walked out of the dining hall, he came across several unfamiliar figures—tall and handsome, with a refined and scholarly demeanor born of the passage of time—who stood in stark contrast to Fran and the others.

From a distance, the men nodded to him with a polite, even friendly demeanor.

After Cen Qing returned their greeting, they ascended the steps toward the Council Chamber on the second floor of the castle. This was where the Wraith King convened his ministers and conducted state affairs.

“They are the Wraith Elders, presiding over the wedding ceremony. They are also responsible for security during the event,” the snow sprite explained to Cen Qing, revealing the key reason why the Wraith King was not present in the banquet hall. “His Majesty has urgently summoned the Worg and Giant Owl Legions. The Wasteland Realm is becoming unstable, and we must remain vigilant at all times.”

Cen Qing stood at the top of the stairs, one hand resting on the smooth banister, his eyes fixed on the opposite end of the hallway, where more Wraiths were gathering.

“This is military intelligence, isn’t it? Can you just share it with anyone?” he asked.

“You are not an outsider,” a snow sprite replied, clasping her hands together and wearing a dreamy expression. “You are His Majesty’s bride, the Wraith King’s partner, and the future Queen of the Snow Domain. No secret will ever be kept from you.”

“Have all the queens throughout history been treated this way?” Cen Qing asked curiously.

“I’m not sure about the past, but I know His Majesty’s attitude toward you,” the snow sprite suddenly grew serious and said solemnly. “His Majesty rules the Snow Domain; he is the embodiment of the Snow Domain, and his will represents everything. You may not understand this now, but after the wedding, you will grasp its meaning.”

Cen Qing pondered the words of the snow sprite as various thoughts flashed through his mind. The embodiment of the Snow Domain, he thought.

He glanced once more toward the Council Chamber, then lowered his gaze. Taking the cloak from the maid’s hands, he strode down the stairs and made his way through the hall, preparing to set out for the private residence.

“Moli, I don’t have much time; I need to leave early and return early.”  

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Knowing that Cen Qing was about to leave, the snow sprite took the initiative to help prepare the carriage.

The carriage was drawn by two white wolves, their coats pure white without a single speck of another color. Their bodies were sleek and graceful, and they wore silver collars around their necks, symbolizing that they were descendants of the snow wolves that guarded the castle.

“Rest assured, they’re very docile.” As the snow sprite spoke, one of her arms stretched out and tugged menacingly at the white wolf’s collar, causing it to bristle in fear—yet it didn’t even dare to let out a whimper.

The snow sprite’s appearance was endearing and seemingly harmless, but in reality, she was ferocious by nature. When roaming the snowy plains in packs, she was the most terrifying nightmare for all races.

As Cen Qing stepped into the carriage, the snow leopard cub suddenly broke free from the maid tending to it and threw itself with all its might into Cen Qing’s arms, clinging to his coat with its paws and refusing to let go no matter what.

“Awoo—”

It looked so pitiful that Cen Qing couldn’t bring himself to push it away.

“Since you don’t want to let go, then come with me.”

“Your Highness, you’re spoiling it too much.” Moli shot the snow leopard a stern look, causing the cub to tuck its ears back.

“Just this once, it’s fine,” Cen Qing said with a smile as she scratched the snow leopard’s chin. “When it’s young, it should be allowed to be a little spoiled.”

These words touched Moli.

Recalling Cen Qing’s life in the Black Tower, she ultimately said nothing more. She cast a complex glance at the snow leopard cub and let it be led into the carriage. With everything arranged, the Thorn Maiden took the reins herself; two sat in the front of the carriage, and two stood at the rear.

The ornate carriage left the courtyard, and the White Wolf unleashed astonishing speed, cutting through the streets against the wind as it raced toward the annex. At the annex, the Black Knights had finished breakfast and gathered in the ground-floor parlor, awaiting Cen Qing’s arrival.

The council hall was brightly lit, with vividly patterned carpets covering the floor. Sheer curtains hung by the windows, their glow harmonizing beautifully with the golden candelabras in the alcoves.

The room was spacious; even with thirty people gathered inside, it did not feel crowded in the slightest.

Waiting always feels especially long. With nothing else to do, the Black Knights found playing cards too boring, so they decided to gather and compete in an arm-wrestling contest.

“Sarei, take him down!”

“Maili, show him your muscles aren’t just for show!”

On either side of a low table, two Black Knights sat facing each other.

They each rolled up their sleeves, clasped each other’s hands tightly with their large hands, and gripped the edge of the table with their other hands, straining with all their might amid the cheers of their comrades.

“Push harder!”

“Just a little more!” 

“Pinch him!”

The Black Knights gathered around, cheering and whistling incessantly.

The noise carried outside the door, causing a passing Featherfolk to pause briefly. He glanced at the tightly closed door, then casually looked away and continued on his way. A vampire clan with too much energy.

That was his assessment of the Black Knights.

Finally, the wrestling match inside the room reached a conclusion.

The one-eyed Sarei proved to be the stronger of the two.

With a thunderous roar, Maili’s arm was pinned down, and the back of his hand slammed hard against the table, leaving a large bruise. The tabletop nearly cracked from the impact.

“I won!”

Sarei stood up and flexed his shoulders, flashing his sharp fangs as he grinned like a ferocious shark. His victory had not come easily; he had come very close to being overturned by his opponent.

No matter how it went, a win was a win.

Although Maili was reluctant, he still unfastened the dagger from his waist and tossed it to the other man: “Be careful with it—one day I’ll take it back!” 

“You won’t get that chance,” said Sare, gripping the hilt with one hand and deftly drawing the blade from its sheath. The dagger was only as long as a palm, with a blade as thin as a thread and incredibly sharp—capable of effortlessly slicing through black iron. No wonder Maili was reluctant to part with it.

As soon as their duel ended, others immediately took their places.

Every match came with a wager, and the Black Knights relished it, venting their excess energy amid the revelry and clamor. The atmosphere in the room was electric, the noise growing louder and louder—it could be heard even halfway down the hallway.

The carriage carrying Cen Qing came to a stop in front of the annex.

The goblins bustling about the courtyard looked up. Seeing Cen Qing step out of the carriage, they rushed forward as one, lining up in a row to bow to him.

“Your Highness.” The goblins were feeding the porcupines—these large creatures were highly adaptable and showed no fear of the Snow Domain’s cold; their long quills looked as if they’d been coated in oil, making them appear even harder.

Cen Qing nodded to the goblins, then strode toward the steps, where he encountered the Featherfolk who served at the annex behind the door.

“Your Highness.” The Featherfolk were slender and had delicate, refined features. Their demeanor was calm and composed, a stark contrast to the tribes that had attacked the northern border forts. A thorn vine maidservant raised her right hand, and a thorn vine wound its way around the Featherfolk’s feet before vanishing into the corridor.

Before long, footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Thirty Black Knights emerged from the parlor, fastening their coats as they ran. Upon reaching Cen Qing, they came to a halt and bowed; their appearance was barely presentable, with no major flaws to be found.

Even so, the Maiden of Thorn Vines frowned in dissatisfaction.

Her critical gaze swept over the Black Knights from head to toe, sending a chill down the spines of these battle-hardened knights and making their scalps tingle.

Fortunately, the maid said nothing.

“Go to the parlor. I have something to discuss with you all,” Cen Qing said.

“As you command, Your Highness.” The Black Knights bowed, their expressions immediately turning serious. They placed one hand over their chests; the rings on their fingers glinted with golden light, dazzling in the sunlight.

The group entered the hallway and made their way to the parlor.

Yuren asked if anyone would like drinks or refreshments, but the Thorn Maids declined on their behalf. They brought a wicker basket from the carriage; it had five layers and contained pastries baked by the Mountain People using recipes provided by Moli.

“Unless His Highness instructs otherwise, you may go about your duties; there’s no need to stand guard here,” Moli said to the Featherfolk.

“Very well.” The Featherfolk nodded, bowed once more to Cen Qing, and swiftly exited the parlor, his figure disappearing around the corner of the staircase. The parlor door closed, and the Black Knights moved the cluttered coffee table aside, rearranging the furniture.

Cen Qing took his seat at the head of the table, with the thorn vines standing behind him—silent, loyal, and all the more dangerous.

The knights sat on either side of Cen Qing. Mino and Penorte occupied the first seats on the left and right, respectively; Ribella’s seat was below Mino’s, and Sarei sat beside Penorte.

The knights chose their seats in an orderly fashion, reflecting their standing within the Order and serving as a symbol of their respective martial prowess. Strength speaks for itself—this was the creed upheld by the Black Knights.

Once everyone was seated, Cen Qing surveyed the room and spoke: “I’m sure you’re all aware of the date of my wedding to the lord of the snow domain. Counting from today, there are only four days left.”

The Black Knights had already learned the news from Yuanwei, but upon hearing Cen Qing mention it himself, they did not speak rashly. Instead, they maintained a solemn demeanor, waiting for him to continue.

“The wedding is not an ending, but a beginning.” Using this statement as a turning point, Cen Qing revealed his plan to the assembly. He had decided to develop the domain and put an end to the desolation of the Thousand Lakes Fief.

Building from scratch, laying the foundation was the most critical step.

“I need you to assign personnel to travel to the Thousand Lakes Fief and the Northern Frontier Fortress after the wedding. I will provide you with attendants, including goblins and slaves.”

“The Thousand Lakes Fief has been desolate for too long, and there is much to be done. Your primary task is to survey the territory, take a headcount of the people within the fief, and verify whether they are my subjects.”

As he spoke, Cen Qing took out a pouch, opened it, and poured out a few grains of golden sand.

“This was brought back by ravens. There is hidden gold within the Thousand Lakes Fief. You must follow the raven’s guidance to locate the gold mines within the fief. Once you’ve marked their locations, seal off all access routes to prepare for future mining.”

Developing the territory and arming the army both require vast amounts of funds.

He had brought a batch of jewels and gold coins from the Royal Capital, but compared to the enormous demands, they were merely a drop in the bucket. Therefore, he needed to find new sources of revenue.

“The party heading to the borderlands must be even more cautious. Deliver my letter to Sir Buyete, keep a close eye on developments with the rebel forces in the borderlands, and confirm when the Royal Capital will dispatch troops.”

As Cen Qing spoke, the Black Knights remained silent, not interrupting him lightly.

It wasn’t until he mentioned the rebel forces and the Royal Capital’s actions that their expressions changed.

“Your Highness, do you believe a major war will break out in the North?” Penorte spoke cautiously, a glint appearing in his gray eyes that caused his pupils to shift slightly, taking on a gray-blue hue.

Cen Qing looked at him, twirling the ring on his ring finger, and gave an affirmative answer: “I hate my father, but I must admit that his insistence on allying with the Snow Domain was not for the sake of temporary peace; his ultimate goal was still to eliminate the rebel forces.”

Gorod’s indulgence of the rebel forces’ growth was primarily aimed at weakening the nobles of the borderlands.

Now that the situation is on the verge of spiraling out of control, with signs of a coup emerging among the nobles, he will no longer settle for half-measures. Even if it’s just to protect his own crown, he will dispatch a large army.

“The attack earlier exposed the spy within the diplomatic mission. Zax won’t keep this a secret; he’ll definitely send word to Golden Rock Fortress. This incident will speed up the Royal Capital’s deployment of troops.”

There was another matter that Cen Qing did not explain to the others.

Bashir would vigorously push for this war, rallying the vast majority of the great nobles—enough to raise a massive army.

“Are we going to join this war?” Ribella suddenly spoke up. Seated with her back to the window, the winter sunlight fell upon her shoulders; the female knight’s eyes shone, her pupils ablaze with a bloodthirsty fighting spirit.

“Not directly,” Cen Qing said flatly, yet his words sent a shock through the group. “I want you to lie in wait on the fringes of the battlefield and seize the opportunity to plunder the defeated, disorganized forces.”

Plunder?

Defeated troops?

For a split second, the Black Knights’ expressions went blank.

Forgive them for failing to grasp His Highness the Prince’s intentions.

“Building up the domain requires a massive workforce, and with the forces currently at my disposal, I’m truly stretched thin.” Cen Qing didn’t mind explaining his predicament to the group, clearly outlining his intentions. “Savage beastmen, fallen treants, snow giants, underground people—no matter the race. It won’t cost a single gold coin, and there’s no need to worry about their lives or well-being. They’re an excellent source of slaves.”

The Black Knights looked stunned.

Mino spoke hesitantly: “Your Highness, they are renegades. Using them is dangerous.”

“High risk, high reward.” Cen Qing leaned back in his chair with a relaxed air and wagged a finger at his loyal Black Knights. He turned his right hand over, and a ball of white light appeared in his palm.

The orb hovered and shifted color, with a red line flowing through its center.

The lines crisscrossed and intertwined, forming a vivid rune identical to the one on Cen Qing’s neck.

“Blood Curse!” the Black Knights exclaimed.

Cen Qing smiled brightly, though the smile did not reach his eyes.

His pitch-black pupils were as dark as an abyss, a clear testament to his race—a cold-blooded being, a member of the Dark Vampire Clan. The blood curse came from his mother.

Having read the diary of Queen Yin, he had gained much useful knowledge. Just like this blood curse—after some practice, he could now wield it with ease.

“Under the bond of the blood curse, no one can defy my orders.”

He showed leniency toward the Black Knights, yet he did not hesitate to reveal his darker side.

Only by combining kindness with authority could he win the loyalty of the rebellious Black Knights, ensuring they faithfully carried out their oaths and became the sharpest spear and the hardest shield in his hands.