“Jake Mystro? My younger sister’s son?” Zamira inquires, her face displaying a perplexed expression.
“Well, you are absolutely right, dear aunt,” I respond with a radiant smile. I observe Zamira’s countenance, detecting traces of annoyance and intense anger.
ƥαṇdα- ηθνε|·ƈθm
“Are you here for the coronation ceremony?” Zamira questions, retracting her sword. The air of violence diminishes, yet a simmering intensity remains, as if cautioning me.
“Yes,” I reply truthfully.
Zamira gazes at me for a few moments, her silence pregnant with unspoken thoughts.
“Did you know that after the coronation ceremony, you will essentially be one step away from assuming the role of king? The vampires will look up to you until the king either transfers the crown or meets his demise. I fail to comprehend why Father has chosen you as the crown prince and is even prepared to awaken from his slumber to bestow the crown upon you,” Zamira reveals. I discern a tide of emotion laced within her voice, as if she harbors concern—not for herself or me—but rather for the vampire citizens.
Her words elicit surprise, prompting a bewildered expression to materialize on my face. What in the world? Old man Duke is about to awaken from his slumber and pass the crown to me? This is nonsensical. I am unprepared for such a responsibility. Simply being a full-fledged crown prince following the coronation will prove burdensome. Nevertheless, I must not betray any signs of ignorance here, especially as I endeavor to captivate this formidable aunt of mine.
“What are your thoughts, dear aunt? Do you perceive me as weak?” I query, crouching down and tracing something on the floor with my index finger.
“I can hardly believe such words emanating from you. You are but a noble vampire, and your evolution is pitiful. Furthermore, I shall have to penalize you for interrupting my duel,” Zamira declares, striding toward me.
She halts her advance when she is merely a few meters away from me.
Oddly enough, I am surprised by her comportment—how she responded like an ordinary person, lowering her sword upon learning of my identity. She is not entirely the brute my mother claimed her to be. However, I cannot allow matters to conclude at this juncture; I must conquer this woman.
According to hearsay, she has never been defeated by a male. Even if a suitor of prodigious strength, on par with a god slayer, were to challenge her, she would readily decline. She possesses a keen ability to assess her adversaries. Nonetheless, I shall incense her to such an extent that she will have no choice but to engage me in combat.
“Ah, you assess me based on my evolution? Would you like to witness my capabilities?” I inquire, my eyes gleaming crimson.
CRIMSON~
Zamira’s eyes mirror my own crimson hue, as if responding to my power, and she instinctively leaps backward.
“Do you possess absolute control over blood?” Zamira asks, a curious expression adorning her face.
“Yes,” I affirm.
“I see… that explains why my blood power reacted as such. Nonetheless, do not allow this to foster arrogance within you. You possess a mere fraction of aura. The other families will attempt to ensnare you in their clutches. Do you believe you can fend off their advances?” Zamira probes. The manner in which she speaks indicates an absence of concern for my well-being; rather, she appears anxious about my mother’s potential devastation if any harm befalls me.
“You underestimate me. The fact that my vampire aura is feeble does not render me weak. Allow me to be frank, dear aunt: compared to me, you are weak,” I assert, shaking my head and turning my back as if to depart.
“What did you say?” Zamira’s voice reverberates, seething with extreme anger.
I pivot around and flash her a bright smile.
“You are weak, dear aunt,” I repeat the same words that stirred her anger, further fueling her fury.
“Your mother neglected to teach you some moral values. I suppose it falls upon me to discipline you. I shall reveal to you the disparity between life and death. Do not fret; I shan’t end your existence,” Zamira retorts, brandishing her sword. Observing her actions, I remain unruffled, feigning boredom.
“Tch, I detest engaging with feeble opponents, dear aunt. Should you defeat me, I shall comply with your every command. However, should I emerge victorious, you shall become mine,” I declare, deliberately casting a lascivious gaze upon her ample bosom, accompanied by a lewd expression.
Yes, it’s working. Zamira appears thoroughly disgusted by my words. She evidently despises being regarded merely as a woman, rather than a warrior.
“Very well, if you defeat me, I shall become yours. And if I vanquish you, you shall obey my every whim,” Zamira retorts confidently, sheathing her yellow aura and invoking her vampire aura. She deems employing the yellow energy to be excessive.
Hearing her words, a smile blossoms upon my countenance.
In an instant, I unleash my entire vampire aura.
Boom!
The aura swirls around my form, akin to a blazing inferno, while a startled expression materializes on Zamira’s face, as if she is dumbfounded.
“His aura surpasses even that of a vampire lord. Yet, it pales in comparison to mine,” Zamira mumbles in astonishment.
Before she can react, I activate the gravity ability I inherited from my mother. Swiftly, Zamira experiences an overwhelming force tugging her towards me.
“Y-You possess Jill’s ability? B-But how? I thought you were incapable of employing any abilities,” Zamira stammers in shock.
Gritting her teeth, Zamira’s sword begins to radiate.
“Swordcraft… <one thousand blade cuts>,” she proclaims.
A crimson arc of blood-infused attack hurtles toward me at breakneck speed. Employing God’s eyes, everything surrounding me slows down to a crawl, endowing me with extraordinary reflexes.
Concentrating an abundance of Ki in my hands, it solidifies, enabling me to seize the blood attack barehanded. Yet, despite utilizing Ki, I can feel the keen edge of the assault attempting to slice through my Ki. Nonetheless, given my copious Ki reserves, I obliterate the blood attack by augmenting the output of my Ki.
After dispelling the remnants of the attack, I cease utilizing the gravity ability. I wish to conquer Zamira in a manner that is both tantalizing and overwhelming.
“Weak,” I utter, dispersing the smoke from the annihilated blood attack with a wave of my hand.