Zax stepped out of the Wraith King’s palace, his legs feeling weak and his mind in a daze.

Beneath his ornate cloak, a blood curse rune lay coiled over his chest, pressing directly above his heart. The thorn vines that surrounded the rose were incredibly dangerous; their sharp points could easily pierce his body and stab straight into his heart.

As he stepped down the stairs, he lost his footing and stumbled forward.

Envoys from the Horde and the Alliance happened to be passing by at that moment. Zax’s fall was all too fortuitous—he nearly collided with a beastman. The beastman was displeased, but mindful of their location at the palace gates, he merely shoved Zax aside and snarled, “Watch where you’re going, Fangs!” A hundred years ago, Zax would never have suffered such humiliation.

Alas, the vampire clan’s fortunes had been in steady decline. Even though Cen Qing had become Queen of the Snow Domain, Storm City’s attitude toward the vampire clan’s delegation was plain to see. Under these circumstances…No one would go easy on him; it would be a blessing if they didn’t kick him while he was down.

The sudden impact snapped Zax back to his senses.

He quickly shook off his dejection. Once he steadied himself, he looked at the newcomer with a dark, menacing glare, his eyes brimming with bloodlust.

“What are you staring at? You…” The beastman was about to shout insults when a companion grabbed his shoulder; a warning voice rang in his ear, successfully silencing his defiant words.

“This is Storm City. Ahead lies the Palace of the lord of the snow domain. Don’t cause trouble, unless you want to anger the Wraith King!” The speaker was a sheep-orc.

Regardless of gender or age, they all sported long beards beneath their chins. Their heads were crowned with horns of various shapes—a distinctive trait of their clan.

“I understand.” The one being held back was a bull-orc—young, impetuous, and hot-tempered, but thankfully willing to heed advice. The two clans lived in the same valley, their relationship inseparable.

The sheep-beastman’s warning came from a place of goodwill, and the bull-beastman wasn’t the type to be ungrateful or cause trouble through a moment of recklessness.

“You’re lucky!” The bull-beastman shook his fist at Zax and stepped past him onto the platform. As they brushed past each other, he deliberately bumped into his shoulder, causing the vampire clan to stumble and nearly fall again.

Seeing this, the sheep-beastman said nothing more.

A single warning was enough; too many would inevitably become annoying.

One by one, the group passed Zax and walked through the palace gates. The esteemed vampire clan count was left standing there—no apology, no consolation, only mocking and derisive glances all around him.

Zax clenched his teeth tightly, doing his best to ignore the stares around him as he strode toward where the vampire clan had gathered.

He would remember this day—he would remember it well!

As long as he survived—if he had the chance to survive—he would repay them a thousandfold!

By the time Zax arrived for his audience, the vampire clan delegation had already assembled. They were busily inspecting all the carriages, taking inventory of personnel and supplies, and preparing to depart at a moment’s notice.

Robert and Riley walked past the front of the column and ran into Ruskin, who was riding up from the rear. All three looked somewhat listless and deep in thought.

“I hope nothing’s happened to Zax?” 

“I don’t think so.”

“An audience isn’t a trial. Even if His Royal Highness dislikes him, he won’t have his head torn off on the spot.”

“His Highness dislikes all of us.” Ruskin gave a self-deprecating smile, then corrected himself: “We should call him ‘Your Majesty’ now—His Majesty the Queen of the Snow Domain.”

Not far from the three of them, Seccombe rolled down his carriage window.

As the windows and doors closed, the interior of the carriage grew dim, making his eyes shine all the more brightly.

He undid his collar and took out the family necklace he had inherited from his mother—forged from Mithril and set with black onyx and moonstone. The square pendant could open to reveal two small portraits: one of his beautiful mother and one of his lively, adorable younger sister.

“By the God of Darkness, please protect me.”

Seccombe clutched the necklace tightly, praying incessantly inside the carriage.

His loyal attendant stood guard outside the carriage, preventing anyone from approaching. No one saw him at that moment, so naturally, no one knew of his anxiety over the letter he had sent and the unknown future.

Thud, thud, thud.

A knocking sound came from the roof, as if a hard stone were striking wood.

Seccombe immediately pushed open the sunroof and looked up. A black bird came into view—its beak hard and sharp, its eyes lively, and two rings on its legs.

“Omen bird.”

The raven Cen Qing kept.

The raven did not enter the carriage; it spread its talons, dropped a small piece of parchment into the carriage, and immediately flapped its wings and flew away.

It had arrived suddenly and departed just as swiftly.

Everyone in the caravan was busy with their own tasks; most were deep in thought and filled with worry, so much so that not even Robert did not notice the commotion beside this carriage. Catching the parchment scroll, Seccombe couldn’t wait to unfold it.

After reading its contents, he couldn’t help but let out a long sigh of relief; the gloom hanging over his head was swept away. His Highness the Prince had accepted his oath of allegiance.

“I need to return to my mother’s domain to gather more people—scholars, stewards, knights, and servants. It would be best to take my mother and sister and relocate to the Thousand Lakes Fief,” he thought to himself.

Seccombe was well aware of the desolation of the Thousand Lakes Fief; even without having seen it with his own eyes, he knew it was by no means fertile ground. Building something from scratch would be an arduous process.

Going there now would inevitably mean facing harsh conditions and taking considerable risks. But only in this way could he gain a firm foothold within His Highness the Prince’s domain.

Adding flowers to brocade versus offering aid in times of need—the latter was the wiser choice.

“I can persuade Mother and my younger sister,” Seccombe thought. He was young and impulsive, but not lacking in wisdom. He was confident he could convince his mother, Olga, to bring ample supplies and manpower and lead the first group to Cen Qing’s domain, laying the foundation for him to become Cen Qing’s trusted minister.

“I will not be a coward.”

“I, too, can live up to the glory of our ancestors!”

Seccombe publicly broke with his father, yet remained proud of his lineage.

Just as his forefathers had followed the late king to build Golden Rock City, he too could carry on their legacy, follow the royal bloodline, and restore the vampire clan’s former glory.

By the time Zax returned to the caravan, everything was already in place.

Faced with questions from Riley and the others, he brushed them off with a few brief words, making no mention of Cen Qing’s threat. He simply stated that now that the wedding was over, they should set out immediately on their journey home.

“The bitter winter is nearly over, and spring is approaching. We must return to Golden Rock City as soon as possible to report everything to His Majesty the King.”

No one in the delegation objected.

Though they harbored doubts, no one spoke up to ask.

A strange sense of urgency weighed on them all; their instinctive sense of danger made them eager to leave Storm City, escape the Snow Domain, and return to the Vampire Kingdom.

“Let’s go!”

To save time, Zax abandoned the carriage, stepped into the stirrups, and mounted his horse. Following his lead, most of the nobles left their carriages and mounted their horses.

The procession filed out of the city and followed the plank road down the snow-capped mountain.

Compared to the ascent, the path was not level but even steeper. A shift in the group’s mindset allowed them to ignore the risks, driven solely by the desire to get as far away from the Wraith King’s Royal Capital as quickly as possible.

Upon reaching the foot of the mountain, the members of the delegation turned to look back.

The majestic city stood atop the mountain peak, and the experiences of the past few days seemed like a dream.

A sudden thought struck them all: this might be their only time setting foot in the Royal Capital of the Wraith King; there would be no other opportunity, whether in life or in death. Following the vampire clan delegation, more envoys concluded their audiences and set out from Storm City one after another.

The flow of people was unending; the gates of Storm City remained open, and the plank road leading down the mountain was constantly bustling. It wasn’t until nightfall, when the last group left Storm City, that the surging crowd finally subsided.

The Black Knights donned a cloak to conceal their armor, gathered a group of goblins and slaves, and set out, blending in among the envoys. The group split into two teams, each carrying Cen Qing’s orders, and set off in separate directions.

Captain Mino led his men to the Thousand Lakes Fief to prospect for gold mines and investigate the situation within the territory. Deputy Captain Penorte headed straight for the northern border of the Vampire Kingdom to recruit laborers for the construction of their territory.

Sarei, Maili, and the others followed the former, all traveling light to make for faster travel. Ribella selected her best fighters to accompany Penorte on his mission.

The female knight was highly skilled at stealth.

Upon arriving at the northern border of the vampire clan’s kingdom, she would look for an opportunity to infiltrate the stronghold and, without attracting anyone’s attention, deliver Cen Qing’s letter to the borderlands nobles.

“This is a difficult mission.”

“I can accomplish it—I swear on the honor of the Black Knights.”

By nature, Ribella occasionally acts a bit frivolously and seems carefree. But once she gets serious, her abilities are not to be taken lightly.

Especially on the battlefield.

When she first joined the Black Knights, most people underestimated her, thinking she was no match for them.

In a single jousting match, she knocked half the members off their horses and nearly pierced the throats of two of them, completely changing everyone’s impression of her.

Looking back on that battle, the Black Knights can joke about it without reservation, saying they were lucky their armor was sturdy enough to spare them from having their throats slit and being forced to wander around with pierced necks.

“We part ways here.”

“See your mission through to the end, and live up to the honor of the Black Knights!”

The group reached the foot of the mountain, and the Black Knights parted ways on the snowy plains. Their warhorses spread out in all directions, parting like a stream of water.

Goblins drove the wagons, while the slaves ran at full speed, matching the warhorses’ pace.

Amid the roar of thunder, the procession crossed the vast snowfields, blending into the silver-white landscape and vanishing where sky met earth. Inside Storm City, the clamor subsided, and tranquility returned to the royal palace.

After meeting with all the envoys—his brain reeling from the constant exchange of diplomatic pleasantries and unfamiliar languages—Cen Qing leaned wearily back in her chair and massaged his throbbing temples.

The snow sprite appeared silently and carried away the gifts left by the envoys.

These gifts would be sent to the underground vaults beneath the castle—the Queen’s private treasury—and become his personal property.

“All for me?” Cen Qing paused, a look of surprise crossing his face. It wasn’t that he lacked worldly experience, but the sheer quantity was overwhelming. By a rough estimate, the gold coins and jewels here were worth nearly a decade’s worth of taxes collected from the vampire clan.

Despite the vampire clan’s territories shrinking year by year, Gorod and his ministers never held back when it came to collecting taxes.

Far from decreasing as their land holdings shrank, tax burdens had actually risen year after year, leaving the entire nation suffering terribly and filled with grievances.

“They belong to you; there’s no need to be surprised.”

Wu Ying waved his hand, signaling the snow sprite to continue.

He walked up to Cen Qing, gripped the chair’s armrests with both hands, leaned in close, and gazed intently into his eyes: “Did you send out knights?”

“Yes.” Cen Qing didn’t think he could hide anything from the Wraith King, nor did he see any need to do so, so he decided to be frank. “I need to develop my territory and forge alliances with trustworthy nobles of the borderlands.”

“Not even a single guard?” Wu Ying raised his hand to brush against Cen Qing’s temple, his fingers combing through his hair—lifting and lowering them as he watched the strands slip through his fingers.

Cen Qing smiled faintly, placing both hands on Wu Ying’s shoulders and sliding them upward at a teasingly slow pace until his fingers interlocked behind the king’s neck. “Here in your Royal Capital, within your palace, no danger can come near me, can it?”

These words pleased the ruler of the Snow Domain.

He followed Cen Qing’s lead, drawing closer, and effortlessly lifted him into his arms.

“My Queen, you always bring me such joy.” 

“It is my honor.”

Cen Qing lifted a strand of silver hair and gently bit the tip.

He draped one arm over Wu Ying’s shoulder and tilted his head close to the other’s ear: “Your Majesty, I’m very tired. Could you take me back to my bedchamber?” 

“You’ll grow even more tired, my beauty.” Wu Ying turned while still holding him and strode out of the hall with long strides.

“I’d be delighted if you could stay with me the whole time.” Cen Qing leaned against Wu Ying’s shoulder, his teeth grazing the gem embedded in the collar, his smile growing even brighter.

Their silhouettes glided past the walls, the dazzling light casting a seductive glow on their shoulders as it followed them down the corridor and into the room adorned with floral reliefs. The door opened and closed.

A faint glow spilled out, accompanied by the rustle of clothing, but it was all sealed inside the room, not a single ray escaping. A snow leopard cub crouched before the door, torn over whether to scratch at it.

It had simply been being mischievous, slipping out while the door was open—never expecting it to slam shut so suddenly, trapping it outside.

“Snowball, don’t be naughty.” A voice came from above, and Juandan’s figure appeared behind the snow leopard.

Glancing at the tightly closed door, the maid with thorn vines bent down, deftly scooped up the snow leopard cub, and turned to walk toward the other end of the hallway.

“The kitchen has prepared some venison for you—you’re sure to love it. Don’t go bothering His Majesty.” Juandan looked down at the snow leopard, not the least bit joking. “His Majesty indulges you, but you must rein yourself in—you can’t be too mischievous. If you anger Moli, believe me, you won’t want to experience her wrath.”

The snow leopard cub drooped its ears, trying to pretend it didn’t understand. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

It could only let out a plaintive whimper and obediently curl up in the maid’s soft embrace, letting her lead it away. At least there was food.

Fresh venison quickly diverted its attention.

With its appetite satisfied, the little one yawned lazily, rolled around in the thick cashmere blanket, and soon fell into a deep sleep, naturally forgetting its grievances.

In the borderlands of the Vampire Kingdom, the last snowfall of the bitter winter fell.

A gale laced with swirling snow swept in, transforming midway into a torrential downpour that engulfed the long borderlands. Under a blanket of dark clouds, thunder roared, and lightning flashed ceaselessly, turning daylight into night.

The curtain of rain obscured the view, and a hazy mist rose from the earth, enveloping the fortified stronghold as it stood ready for battle.

A bolt of lightning split the sky, and gnarled tree roots burst through the earth. A torrent of sand and gravel mixed with the rain, spreading a blood-red hue across the landscape. Boom!

The fallen treants breached the borderlands, flanked on either side by Snow Giants and Rock Giants.

They advanced in droves, hurling massive boulders, their terrifying roars pounding the fortress in rapid succession. At the feet of these colossal beasts, the panicked troops looked like a swarm of ants.

They pushed crude siege engines, brandished all manner of weapons, and let out piercing roars as they launched their assault on the fortress in the borderlands. Stones rained down, and arrows flew thick and fast.

The chaotic army, staking everything on a single gamble, braved the torrential rain to launch a fierce assault on the northern border of the Vampire Kingdom.

Amid the thunderous drumbeats and the blare of trumpets, the brutal war officially began, and a fierce and bloody battle unfolded.