novelzi Chapter 142 Dracula
Chapter 142 Dracula
"Da, da, da..."
The sound of crisp footsteps echoed through the palace corridors.
Moments later, Queen Elsa appeared.
She had just finished bathing and was now dressed in a striking red gown that sharply contrasted with her snow-white, radiant skin.
Her beautiful face was adorned with light makeup, her bright eyes sparkling with a captivating radiance.
Although her expression was gentle and virtuous, a subtle, undeniable charm lingered beneath it.
In the tense atmosphere of the room, however, this charm seemed disturbingly out of place.
The old king looked at the dazzling queen standing before him, and an indescribable anger surged within him. It gnawed at his restraint, threatening to erupt.
But he forced it down.
"Elsa," he rasped, his voice brittle, "it's been so long... You look stunning."
Queen Elsa approached the bedside, her gaze falling on the old king's withered frame. He looked as though he might take his final breath at any moment, ready to depart for the arms of the Lord of Light.
A mocking smile curled on her lips, her tone laced with derision.
"Your Majesty, have you ever seen a bird in a cage?"
The old king gave a low, confused hum.
Her smile deepened, exuding a dangerous charm.
"The happiest moment for a bird in a cage," she continued, "is when the cage turns to ashes."
"So... you hate me this much?"
"Your Majesty, surely you jest. How could I hate you?"
"Then... can you explain... what happened in your chambers today?"
"What happened?" Queen Elsa feigned surprise, her voice dripping with insincerity. "Didn't I already make everything perfectly clear to the court?"
The old king's face darkened, and he erupted into a violent coughing fit. Each ragged gasp made it seem as though he was moments away from death.
But Queen Elsa stood motionless, her calm demeanor unshaken, showing no intention of stepping forward to assist him.
When the old king finally caught his breath, his voice was barely a whisper, thin and frail like the hum of a mosquito.
"Can't you... at least let me, a dying man... leave this world with clarity?"
Unmoved, Queen Elsa chuckled lightly.
"Your Majesty, don't be so melodramatic. You will live a long life; you're far from dying."
Realizing that his attempt to play the victim had failed, the old king sighed and dropped the act.
"Yes."
"By the way, do you know what Asmon is doing?"
The guard was about to shake his head when someone behind him reported, "Sir, Knight Asmon is here."
Luis nodded and signaled the guards to withdraw.
Asmon approached, carrying a coffin.
Luis looked at him and asked, "Do you remember everything that happened there?"
"I... I..." Asmon hesitated, his head lowered in sadness. "There was something wrong with the tea, and then I felt weak."
His eyes were red, as if he was trying to suppress deep anger and sorrow. "Vera was killed by Tupe!"
Luis's expression hardened. "No need to pretend anymore. Tell me how you manage to hide your race so well. Are you a special kind of Blood Race?"
The sadness in the atmosphere instantly vanished.
Asmon smiled, stood up straight, and walked toward the coffin. He opened its lid.
Inside, Vera peeked out and smiled shyly at Luis, still covered in blood.
"Let me tell you everything from the beginning," Asmon said.
"I am the third son of Viscount Asoth. I was born human... and talentless. My elder brothers bullied me, and even my younger siblings looked down on me.
"I could do nothing but endure silently because of my low aptitude for cultivation.
"At the age of 15, I left my home and escaped to become a pioneer knight. My uncle—Samuel Hodson, the chief commander of this Orc Fighting Frontline—took me in.
"Everything was going well. Here, I met Vera, and we fell in love. I was 16; she was 13. Eventually, she had to leave for Arcane City.
"Then came the turning point. I received a mission to destroy a group of undead. I led some knights on the mission but encountered Lizardmen before we even saw the undead.
"They were strong—too strong. Under the protection of my knights, I managed to escape. Panicked and injured, I ran for my life.
"My blood dripped onto the ground, activating a magic circle. It was a teleportation circle.
"I found myself in a mysterious mansion. It was terrifying yet fascinating. The place was dark, cold, and silent, with walls covered in ancient murals. The air reeked of iron and decay.
"I thought I had stumbled into the lair of a powerful undead, but there were no creatures—not even the undead themselves.
"Deeper inside, I discovered a massive chamber. At its center stood a throne carved from obsidian, surrounded by glowing runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light.
"The murals in the room narrated the story of the Blood Race—the rise of Dracula, their ancestor, his immense power, the gods' curse, and the eventual fall of his people. The final mural depicted Dracula fleeing and ultimately perishing in this very place.
"In the center of the chamber stood a vial of blood. Its crimson liquid glowed with an unnatural, pulsating light, exuding an energy so potent it seemed to still the air around it. A chilling sensation coursed through me, as if the vial itself called out, urging me to approach.
"I reached out, unable to resist its pull. The instant my fingers brushed the glass, it shattered, exploding into jagged shards that rained around me. The blood inside surged forth, snaking across my skin and seeping into my open wounds.
"The pain was immediate and excruciating, like molten iron coursing through my veins. It clawed at my very essence, twisting and burning until I could no longer endure it. Darkness consumed me.
"When I awoke, the chamber was eerily quiet. The once-vivid glow of the runes had faded to a dim hum. Yet, within me, I felt it—an unfamiliar power coursing through my veins. It was vibrant, potent, and undeniably alive. I was different. Changed in ways I could not yet understand."