The Black Knights looked at Cen Qing, grasping his intent, and felt no resistance in their hearts.

Born of darkness, raised on bloodshed, and existing for slaughter—they preferred Cen Qing’s dark side to any semblance of glory. The one to whom they swore allegiance might appear pure and harmless on the surface, even compassionate, but at his core, he must be resolute and ruthless.

The oldest and purest bloodline—the night is his cloak. He clutches all darkness in the palm of his hand, tramples blood beneath his feet, and shatters the souls of his enemies without a moment’s hesitation.

Mino and Penorte exchanged a glance and were the first to push back their high-backed chairs. The Black Knights followed suit, rising as one from their seats.

Thirty men faced Cen Qing, clenching one fist against their chests and pounding the spot over their hearts, producing a dull thud.

“The Black Knights swear allegiance to you, Your Highness.”

“No one can stand in the way of your sword’s edge.” 

“What you desire shall surely come to pass!”

The oath is power.

The words of the oath transformed into a bond, wrapping around the wrists of both Cen Qing and the Black Knights—an eternal, unbreakable bond that would endure until the end of their lives, when the fire of their souls would forever return to the darkness.

The parlor door, which had been closed for nearly an hour, finally swung open again.

The Black Knights filed out one by one, escorting Cen Qing from the guest quarters to the carriage that would take him back to the royal palace.

Four men stepped forward from the group, each leading a warhorse to escort Cen Qing back to the royal palace, fulfilling their duty as knights.

The White Wolf remained wary of the Black Knights but did not attack them. The silver ring around its neck glinted; engraved on its inner surface were characters with elegant strokes, derived from the ancient Wraith script.

As the carriage passed through the city, the streets were crowded and bustling, a far cry from the desolation of their earlier journey. Drawn by the sounds, Cen Qing couldn’t help but push open the carriage window and peer out curiously.

On the wide, long street, a ceaseless stream of people flowed back and forth; besides Wraiths of Storm City, there were also many faces from other races.

These people came from different regions—including envoys from kingdoms, tribal representatives, and merchants from the Free Alliance. They had different appearances, dressed in vastly different styles, and spoke a variety of languages; some spoke in extremely high-pitched voices, and even their greetings sounded like arguments.

“Your wedding to the lord of the snow domain is a grand occasion; anyone who hears the news sends someone to offer their congratulations.” Moli unfolded a blanket and draped it over Cen Qing’s legs. She didn’t need to drive, so she sat in the car with him. “Your mother’s wedding back then was also incredibly grand; people talked about it for a very long time.”

“My mother’s wedding?”

“Yes.” Moli leaned back against the seat, recalling the events of that time, her fingers unconsciously clenching. “The celebrations lasted for days, with many races coming to offer their congratulations. Your mother wore a crown and held a scepter; she was the most beautiful ruby among the vampire clan.”

A final spectacle of unparalleled splendor.

Since that day, the vampire clan has never witnessed such a magnificent spectacle again.

After Queen Yin passed away, Gorod took several more wives. Just as the vampire clan had grown weaker, the wedding ceremonies became increasingly simple, almost as if they were merely going through the motions.

“The Wraiths rarely open the gates of Storm City, so this wedding is a crucial opportunity to learn more about them. Whether they are enemies, vassals, or simply wish to maintain the status quo, none of them will want to miss it,” Moli said, her tone turning serious.

“I see,” Cen Qing said, resting one arm on the windowsill and propping his chin in his palm as he continued to gaze out. The scenery alongside the carriage kept receding, passing by in a blur; he caught glimpses of dozens of different races.

Some were not unusual and frequently appeared in various kingdoms; others, however, were quite rare, naturally reclusive, and even more secluded than Wraiths.

The Cave Folk were petite in stature, with hands and feet disproportionately large compared to their limbs. Though they appeared frail, they possessed immense strength and could dig through permafrost and bedrock with their bare hands.

The Long-Haired People, as the name suggests, are covered head to toe in long hair, resembling moving, cone-shaped spools; it’s hard to make out their features. Beastmen, Featherfolk, and Treefolk—these were all familiar faces.

Merfolk are said to be distant relatives of the merpeople. When they shift forms, they retain their fish-like features—some even keep their fish tails—yet they can walk on land? The very idea of a fish appearing on a mountaintop seems utterly unbelievable.

As the vehicle continued on its way, Cen Qing gradually relaxed, and his thoughts began to wander freely. Suddenly, a thought popped into his head, and he found himself laughing out loud.

Moli looked at him and, unable to resist his cheerfulness, found her mood lifting as well.

Since entering the Snow Domain, His Royal Highness had changed quite a bit; he seemed even more relaxed than he had been in Golden Rock City. What had caused this change?

The ruler of the Snow Domain?

Before the Thorn Maiden could figure it out, the carriage had already arrived at the palace. The maid driving the carriage pulled on the reins, and the wheels slowly came to a stop.

Just as Cen Qing was about to stand up, the carriage door swung open from the outside. A flash of silver light, and he found himself in a cold embrace. Recognizing the figure, Cen Qing exclaimed in surprise, “Your Majesty?”

“The appointed time has come.” The Wraith King wrapped one arm around Cen Qing and, without a moment’s pause, turned and walked toward the mount. The creature carrying them on its back was not a giant owl, but a massive snow wolf.

Howl—

The snow wolf threw back its head and let out a long howl. Dozens of worgs gathered around them, each carrying a member of the Wraiths’ entourage.

With the hunting party assembled, the wolf pack transformed into a streak of light, darting through the city in an instant and charging out through the gates of Storm City.

The wind whistled past their ears, and fragments of snow kept whipping at them. Cen Qing was wrapped in Wu Ying’s cloak, securely sheltered in his arms, and remained completely unharmed throughout.

The wolf pack raced along the mountainside.

The pack raced into the sea of snow, heading toward the hunting grounds situated on the western frontier.

Bordering the Wasteland Realm, this place was home to tens of thousands of strange spirits—a terrifying, icy wasteland and a hunting ground exclusive to Wraiths. Whenever the Wraith King married a new bride, the hunting grounds would open.

The King of the Snow Domain personally hunts these strange spirits, refining them into rare dark crystals to present to his future wife. The snow wolves galloped against the wind, with the Wraith King riding atop one, holding Cen Qing in his arms.

Her hood slipped off midway, and her long silver hair was tossed by the wind, like flowing moonlight.

“I hope you’ll like this gift.”

Wu Ying cupped Cen Qing’s chin with one hand, his icy breath descending to gently brush the corner of his lips. Cen Qing did not close his eyes.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around Wu Ying’s neck. Looking closely into his eyes, he then pressed down on the back of Wu Ying’s head, deepening the kiss of his own accord. The hunting party traveled westward, crossing a vast sea of snow, and arrived at a snow- and ice-covered mountain range at dusk.

The mountains were rugged and steep, their cliffs rising a thousand kilometers.

The mountain range stretched from north to south, slicing through the snowy plains like a knife’s edge.

As the wolf pack approached the foot of the mountains, Cen Qing pulled back his cloak and looked up, finding the slopes even steeper than before. The highest peak pierced the clouds, with mist swirling around its summit, making it seem like a realm of gods and demons.

Howl—

A snow wolf howled toward the sky, and the pack responded in unison.

The howls echoed across the wilderness, and an invisible force swirled and reverberated, continuously crashing against the mountain walls. The snow layers midway up the slope began to crack, and chunks of snow slid down the slope, crashing with a thunderous roar at the foot of the mountain and sending up vast plumes of white snow mist.

The snow mist rolled like giant waves, swelling out along the base of the mountain. The sound was earth-shaking, and the scene was truly spectacular. Cen Qing was mesmerized, lost in admiration, when suddenly he felt a tight grip around his waist.

“Hold on tight.”

The Wraith King’s voice rang out above him.

Sensing the unusual atmosphere, Cen Qing instinctively grabbed the arm wrapped around his waist.

The worg ceased its howling, its agile limbs striding out as it transformed into streaks of swift wind, charging into the churning snow mist and hurtling straight toward the mountainside. The Wraiths atop the worg crouched low, their forms shifting between light and shadow, constantly dissipating and coalescing.

Just as they were about to crash into the mountain face, the wolf pack swerved just in time. Their sharp claws dug into the snow, and with a few deft leaps, they effortlessly scaled the mountainside, moving almost vertically.

The higher they climbed, the colder the wind grew.

The scenery on either side receded rapidly, as fleeting as a passing glimmer of light.

Wrapped in the gold-woven cloak, Cen Qing was forced into its icy embrace, yet an unfamiliar heat rose within him.

Excitement, pleasure, and exhilaration—emotions he had never experienced before—surrounded him, causing his ears to ring, his fangs to pierce his gums, and a desperate longing to well up within him.

“Your Majesty…” He opened his mouth, revealing the sharp tips of his fangs. His voice grew hoarse, unexpectedly taking on a seductive quality.

The snow wolf’s speed was astonishing; each leap spanned a hundred meters.

The Wraith King wrapped one arm around Cen Qing, his gloved hand gripping his shoulder. The glove was made from the hide of a rare beast; it felt soft and cool to the touch, much like a mermaid’s silk from the deep sea.

“What?” Wu Ying looked down and met a pair of pitch-black eyes.

Unable to put his feelings into words, Cen Qing simply wrapped his arms around Wu Ying’s neck, tilted his head back, and pressed his lips against Wu Ying’s. The movement was urgent, just like his emotions at that moment. The closer they got to the mountaintop, the colder it became.

At the summit, white clouds swirled, drifting slowly with the wind, while plumes of white mist shot skyward, parting the layers of clouds in an instant and soaring into the heavens like arrows. Upon reaching the highest point of the mountain, the worgs came to a collective halt.

After their intense sprint, their chests heaved violently. The wind at the summit amplified their panting, making it grow heavier and heavier; intertwined, it sounded like thunder.

“We’re here,” Wu Ying said, releasing Cen Qing and turning his chin to direct his gaze toward the back of the mountain. A deep blue filled his vision.

The mountain remained steep, covered in a thick layer of solid ice, resembling a natural ice wall. The surface of the ice was uneven, resembling a hanging waterfall.

The mountain slope dipped sharply, forming a vast canyon.

The canyon was a thousand feet deep, and its floor was covered with countless blue trees that looked as if they had been carved from ice crystals.

Blue springs of varying sizes bubbled up from among the trees; some pooled into ponds, their surfaces frozen and glinting faintly in the afterglow of the setting sun.

“Is this the hunting ground?” Seeing this scene, Cen Qing couldn’t help but feel puzzled. Rather than a hunting ground, this place resembled a utopia. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.” The Wraith King wrapped his arms around Cen Qing from behind, his arms encircling his waist, and whispered with a smile in his ear, “Be patient.” Patient?

Cen Qing continued to look down at the valley floor. His fingers rested on the arm around his waist, his fingertips tracing the cool back of the hand again and again, until they suddenly paused. His eyes widened as he clearly witnessed an unbelievable sight.

As the sunlight dimmed, the light receded like a tide, gathering at the horizon where sky met earth.

Night enveloped the land, and dark clouds gathered in the sky, though fortunately a few beams of moonlight remained, falling vertically into the canyon. The blue trees swayed gently; their canopies spread wide, and their leaves and branches glowed with a faint light.

The glow scattered, twinkling like countless stars, stretching into a long, translucent ribbon that wove above the spring and the pond. Suddenly, it came to a standstill; thousands upon thousands of specks of light drifted slowly downward, their radiance reflecting off the water’s surface, resembling a swarm of fireflies dancing playfully.

The transparent layer of ice began to melt.

Rather than cracking and shifting apart, the ice eroded into ice holes of similar sizes, centered around the light. The edges of the ice holes continued to melt until the ice layer shattered into pieces, with large sections sinking beneath the water.

Boom!

A muffled, strange sound echoed, and the remaining ice blocks vanished without a trace.

The water’s surface was perfectly still, without even a single eddy—unusually calm.

Sensing something was amiss, Cen Qing did not speak rashly, but instead fixed his gaze intently on the water’s surface, trying to discern what exactly lay hidden beneath. Rumble!

Another strange sound rang out, followed immediately by a piercing, shrill howl that echoed through the entire canyon, almost stinging the eardrums. A multitude of translucent shadows burst through the water, casting a swarm of dark silhouettes across the surface.

Different races, different forms, different ages, different faces.

Their bodies were transparent, their expressions vacant and numb, with blue flames flickering in their eye sockets as they hovered silently in midair, like ghostly apparitions in the night.

“Ethereal Souls—the most chilling of all beings. They gather and hide deep within the snowfields. Whenever there is unrest in the Wasteland Realm, they emerge en masse to devour every living thing within their reach.” The Wraith King’s voice was clear and devoid of emotion, yet it sent a chill down one’s spine. “They possess no self-awareness; they are driven solely by malevolence and greed.”

“Are they your prey?” Cen Qing asked.

“Refining the power of darkness yields the most perfect gems. I will use them to adorn you, my beautiful wife.” Wu Ying lowered his gaze to Cen Qing; his eyes were deep, and no amount of restraint could conceal the obsession and astonishing possessiveness inherent in his nature.

As the two spoke, a cold wind swept through the valley, stirring up thick blue mist. The strange souls suddenly became restless.

Their vacant expressions vanished as their faces and bodies twisted simultaneously; their mouths gaped open to a terrifying extent, and dark flames surged within their eye sockets.

They began attacking one another, greedily devouring each other in a scene of madness that resembled a living hell.

“The time has come.”

Wu Ying raised his right arm and swung it forward with great force.

The accompanying wraiths let out piercing screams—sounds so sharp and eerie it was hard to imagine they came from the throats of humanoid creatures. The worg bared its fangs, and its razor-sharp steel claws snapped out.

They raced down the mountainside, gaining speed until they gradually transformed into streaks of gray light, crashing ferociously into the canyon. The snow wolf surged forward midway, effortlessly overtaking the pack and reaching the canyon floor first.

Only upon reaching the valley floor did he realize what true bitter cold felt like.

Cen Qing wasn’t afraid of the cold, yet he couldn’t help but shiver. With the sudden intrusion of the Wraiths, the battle between the strange souls came to an abrupt halt.

Countless pairs of hollow eyes turned toward him, their depths flickering with eerie flames, and he could clearly sense the malice within them. Setting aside their eerie appearance, they truly made Cen Qing feel threatened.

The snow wolf stepped into the spring’s source; water splashed in all directions, freezing into ice crystals mid-air.

The strange spirits gathered at the water’s edge; some were dressed as knights, clad in ancient chain mail and wearing dented iron helmets; though they may have been handsome in life, now only ugliness and distortion remained.

Deadly scars marred their bodies, though the wounds no longer bled.

The weapons in their hands were distinctive: slender swords with blades so thin they were even thinner than those of the Wraiths, their edges glowing with a cold light, sharp enough to cut through iron as if it were mud.

Roar—

The spirits surrounded the snow wolf, launching attacks from all directions.

A chilling aura suddenly descended, deflecting all attacks and preventing them from getting close.

The Wraith King flipped his right hand; countless rays of golden light converged, coalescing into a magnificent longbow that he held in his palm.

“My golden rose, what color gemstone do you like?” The voice still echoed in her ears as a white arrow shot forth. The arrow exploded mid-air, transforming into countless sharp steel needles that pierced the surrounding spirits.

As if a raging flame had struck a pool of kerosene, the strange spirits burst into a blue, eerie fire; the flames shot upward, twisting and burning fiercely in midair. The Wraith King continued to draw his bow, and more strange spirits were engulfed in the sea of fire, letting out piercing screams.

The accompanying Wraiths darted through the canyon, arrows flying like rain.

Vast patches of light flared up at the bottom of the gorge, forming rows of walls of fire—yet they offered no sense of warmth.

Chains of blue flame coiled around the trees, illuminating the water’s surface; standing amidst them, the chill felt even more bone-chilling. Even Cen Qing, a member of the vampire clan, could not help but feel the cold seep to his very marrow. Cen Qing turned his head to look at the Wraith King behind him, catching a glimpse of the upward curve of his lips in the firelight.

Delighted by destruction, exhilarated by slaughter—this bloodthirsty scene not only failed to diminish his handsomeness but, on the contrary, made him even more strikingly beautiful because of this darkness. This was the ruler of the Snow Domain.

Cen Qing averted his gaze and noticed a falling flame nearby. As if by some inexplicable impulse, he reached out and cupped that wisp of blue in his palm. Ice crystals pierced through the gaps between his fingers, bringing a hint of chill.

Cen Qing spread his fingers; a white crystal lay in his palm, completely different from the colorful crystals scattered all around. He picked up the crystal to examine it closely and could faintly make out the colors flowing within—it was the same Mithril as that of the Wraith King.

A slender hand cupped his wrist; a fingertip brushed the back of his hand and took the crystal from his grasp.

“Silver crystal,” the Wraith King said, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, his lips gently brushing against Cen Qing’s earlobe. “Do you possess healing abilities?”

Only such a gift could purify a gem formed from a foreign soul, leaving behind its purest color.

“Yes, but because of the poison and blood curse within me, I’ve never been able to develop it further. I can only heal minor wounds—it’s hardly worth mentioning.” Cen Qing made no effort to hide anything, revealing his innate ability.

Moli was the thorn vine companion of Queen Yin; she had cared for Cen Qing since his birth and knew everything about him. Yet even she couldn’t explain why, as a member of the Dark Race and a pure-blooded descendant of the family, he possessed such an ability.

Ironically, even though he possessed a healing talent, he was powerless against the poison within his own body and had relied on his mother’s blood curse to survive until now. “Everything happens for a reason; there’s no need to be discouraged by this.” The Wraith King unfolded Cen Qing’s right hand and placed the silver crystal back into it. Immediately afterward, he guided Cen Qing’s hand to grip the longbow and release one final arrow.

The arrow sliced through the air, and a strange soul was engulfed in flames.

Wu Ying released his grip, and the bow shattered into a myriad of starlight, melting like snow and vanishing into the cold wind at the bottom of the valley.

“You will no longer suffer from the poison, nor will the blood curse bind you. I will set you free and grant you everything you desire, my golden rose.”

The Wraith King’s voice was full of seduction, seeping into Cen Qing’s ears in faint whispers.

Cen Qing lowered his gaze to the palm of his hand. The next moment, he took Wu Ying’s hand, placed the silver crystal in it, and gently closed his fingers around it, one by one.

“Your Majesty, you said hunting is a tradition of the Wraiths. I offer this to you; I hope you will accept it.” He tilted his head back, gazing up at Wu Ying—his future husband—with an air of submission.

Wu Ying gazed at him, his finger brushing against Cen Qing’s throat, his fingertip resting against his chin, as a slow smile spread across his face.

“You’ve truly surprised me.”

He lowered his head, pressing it against Cen Qing’s forehead.

A chilly breeze swept through the canyon; the foreign spirit vanished without a trace, and the crystals scattered across the ground rose slowly, their intertwining colors forming long chains that floated around the two of them.

Wu Ying led Cen Qing away from the snow wolf to a blue tree.

Just then, moonlight fell, and the crystals by the water’s edge reflected its glow, as if countless stars were suspended around the two of them.

Wu Ying took Cen Qing’s right hand, his fingertip brushing the ring on his ring finger. Suddenly, he lowered his body, kneeling on one knee as he looked up at him.

“My golden rose, in accordance with the traditions of Wraiths, I offer all of this to you.” He tilted his head back, his long silver hair falling over his shoulders, his gaze gentle yet resolute. “Will you marry me and become my queen?”

Unlike the alliance between the two nations, he was formally proposing to Cen Qing.

Just as he had said before, his golden rose deserved the very best.

Not a tribute, not a gift, but his bride, his wife—the flower he cherished within his palace, a treasure no one could covet. Cen Qing was taken aback.

An emotion she had never felt before filled her chest, nearly overflowing. She was acutely aware that her heart had been seized and could no longer escape. Perhaps it was a matter of seconds, or perhaps minutes, but she gave up struggling.

“I would be delighted, Your Majesty.”

The dark-haired vampire clan flashed a radiant smile, cupped the lord of the snow domain’s cheeks in both hands—his face reflected in the vampire’s eyes—and leaned down to kiss his lips.