In a gray-black castle on the northernmost side of Pelite City, hundreds of gorgeously dressed men and women danced elegantly to soft, gentle music in a grand hall that could accommodate several thousand people. They were tall and handsome, beautiful and bewitching, as if they were born aristocrats.

If one could ignore their overly pale complexions and the sharp fangs they occasionally licked, they were almost indistinguishable from humans in appearance.

In a corner of the hall, a young, handsome man leaned against a cabinet, boredly playing with a glass in his hand. The glass was filled with fresh red blood. As the glass tilted, some of the blood spilled onto the man’s hand, which he casually wiped on his snow-white sleeve. The white fabric bloomed with clusters of vibrant roses.

A fair, slender hand suddenly reached out and snatched the glass from the man’s hand. The man looked up, displeased, and glared at the brown-haired vampire before him, his tone thick with warning as he called out, “Iman.”

The brown-haired vampire called Iman raised the glass and tasted a bit of the blood, her eyes narrowing in enjoyment. “The blood of the God Race is truly sweet… You’re being far too wasteful, Andre.”

Andre snorted coldly, casually picked up another glass of blood from the nearby cabinet, and continued to play with it without tasting it.

In this somewhat remote corner, there were a total of six vampires, including Andre and Iman. Judging by the aura they exuded, all of them were surprisingly third-generation.

Ever since the Ventrue and Brujah had ordered a withdrawal from the Sitatul Continent, second and third-generation vampires had rarely set foot here. Even though the Lasombra and Tzimisce clans were unwilling to give up and still wanted to control the Sitatul Continent, they were concerned about their territories in the Blood Domain and had only sent fourth-generation vampires to remain on Sitatul.

“The air on the Sitatul Continent is getting fresher and fresher. If it weren’t for how boring the humans seem, I’d really like to stay and play for a while,” said a third-generation vampire sitting in the far corner, looking toward the dance floor with a lack of interest.

Hearing this, Andre glanced at her, his tone cold. “Don’t forget what we’re here for.”

“Isn’t it just for show…” The third-generation vampire trailed off as she saw Andre’s icy gaze fixed on her. She shrugged and pouted, “How boring.”

Iman put down her glass, walked over, and draped an arm over the third-generation vampire’s shoulder, whispering softly in her ear, “Even if it’s just for show, we can’t be careless. Have you forgotten Elder Talia’s reminder?”

“Who knows who those Ventrue and Brujah fellows have sent to investigate us.”

As they were speaking, a dark figure suddenly flew in through the window and crashed to the floor. A pale green longbow arrow was embedded in the figure’s body, the wound around it eroded by Nature Power. Aside from a heart enveloped in red mist that remained intact, the vampire’s upper body was little more than a skeleton.

The moment the vampire fell, the hall instantly fell silent. The vampires who had been dancing a moment ago flickered and surrounded the injured one. One vampire tried to help pull out the arrow but ended up getting their own palm injured by it instead.

Andre, Iman, and the other third-generation vampires walked over upon hearing the commotion. The former’s eyes darkened as he looked at the pale green arrow. With a blank expression, he reached out, pulled the arrow out, and tossed it aside. His voice was low. “The Elf Queen.”

He bent down, grabbed the injured vampire by the collar, and hauled him up, asking coldly, “Where is the Elf Queen?”

After the arrow was removed, the vampire’s wounds had already begun to heal. He said in a weak voice, “Near Payabileng Lake.”

Payabileng Lake… Andre was stunned for a moment. The other third-generation vampires also exchanged glances, their expressions varied, but without exception, all fell into deep thought.

What a coincidence. That was precisely their destination for this mission.

Andre frowned, about to ask more questions, when another dark figure flew in from the window. It was the fourth-generation vampire who had fled early from Cynthia and Polly when he saw the situation turning against him.

He was in much better shape than the previous vampire, though just as disheveled.

Upon entering, he knelt on one knee before Andre, assuming a posture of asking for punishment.

Andre looked down at the vampire, a sinister smile playing on his lips. “And what happened to you?”

He had merely sent a few vampires to deal with that troublesome little wolf, yet out of seven fourth-generation vampires, only two had managed to return.

“That werewolf has companions,” the vampire said with his head lowered, feeling apprehensive. “A guard of the Elf Queen, and… a strange member of the God Race.”

The vampire clutched his arm, which had been burned by the Power of Light, and said in a low voice, “She can use Light Magic.”

“Light Magic…” Iman’s eyes flickered as she recalled something. She raised an eyebrow and said, “Is it the one Della and the others encountered before?”

Although the Beast God’s temple had more or less collapsed, she had heard that Della had suffered a considerable loss and hadn’t even managed to obtain the Godhead.

And the reason was that they had encountered a member of the God Race who could use Light Magic—and the spell she used was the Grand Light Spell, the Goddess of Light’s favorite.

Andre’s expression was grim as he said impatiently, “Getting thwarted by a single member of the God Race just means Della is useless. She can’t even handle a small task like destroying a few long-abandoned temples.”

All the vampires in this hall were from the Tzimisce clan, while Della belonged to the Lasombra. For vampires, one only needed to be respectful to those of a higher generation. Among peers from different clans, there was no need for respect.

“What power can Light Magic wielded by a single God Race member possibly have?” Andre’s face was full of disdain. To him, the God Race were merely prey; the Elf Race were the only ones who posed a real threat to them.

Iman was noncommittal about Andre’s words. She pondered for a moment, then turned her head to ask the fourth-generation vampire behind her, “Is the Blood Pool ready?”

The fourth-generation vampire nodded. “It’s all ready. We’re just waiting for the Blood Coffin to be placed in the pool.”

Although the Elf Queen was nearby, they couldn’t fail to complete the orders they had received from above. Iman’s eyes darted around, and a slight smile touched her lips. “Since the Blood Pool is ready, let’s not dawdle.”

“The task of delivering the Blood Coffin to Payabileng Lake will be left to Andre.” Iman looked up, her gaze slowly sweeping over the other third-generation vampires as she said softly, “As for us… we’ll have to inconvenience ourselves to lure the Elf Queen away.”

Compared to placing some Blood Coffin, she was more interested in meeting this Elf Queen, who was hailed as the greatest beauty on the Sitatul Continent. In any case, their side was just putting on a show. The bigger the commotion, the better. It would be best if they could attract the attention of that group of Ventrue vampires as well; then their mission would be complete.

Because Hanni had said the Wolf Race would arrive in three days, Olivia chose to wait here. However, they had waited for four or five days straight without seeing any sign of them.

Olivia, Cynthia, and the others didn’t say anything about it, simply thinking that the Wolf Race might have been delayed by something and decided to wait another two days. But Hanni was not as calm as they were. Worried for her clan’s safety, she became anxious and restless. If not for her injuries not having fully healed, she would have already run off to check on the situation.

With her mind preoccupied, Hanni was constantly distracted. Avira, who was resting against her, was getting annoyed by the big white wolf sighing from time to time and occasionally throwing her head back to howl. She sat up slightly, wrapped her arms around the big white wolf’s head, and forced her to meet her gaze, saying with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “What are you doing?”

This white wolf stared at her during the day, preventing her from getting close to Cynthia, and then insisted on sleeping with her at night. If Avira didn’t think the vampires were about to make a move, she would have lost her patience and thrown this stupid wolf into her domain as food.

The night wind was biting. Hanni used her paw to pull Avira back into her embrace. She curled around the woman, saying distractedly, “The temperature drops at night. Don’t stray too far from me.”

“I’m doing this for your own good. You’re human. You’ll freeze to death if it gets too cold.”

The white wolf’s fur was long and soft. Lying on the wolf’s belly, Avira felt a trace of warmth seep into her naturally low body temperature. She had to admit, lying on the white wolf was indeed much more comfortable than on hard rock.

“Then be quiet. Don’t howl and shout randomly.” Avira patted the white wolf’s head, then shifted into a more comfortable position, idly picking up one of Hanni’s paws that was resting on her and studying it out of boredom.

She had dealt with werewolves many times and had seen how sharp their claws were, but this was the first time she had ever casually kneaded and played with one.

And the werewolf whose paw she was holding was carefully retracting her claws, afraid of accidentally hurting her.

What a silly wolf, Avira’s lips curved up slightly. A mischievous thought suddenly arose in her heart. She now kind of wanted to see the expression on this foolish wolf’s face when she found out she wasn’t human.

Shock? Anger? Sadness? Avira found that no matter which one it was, it seemed quite interesting.

Hanni didn’t know what the person leaning against her was thinking. Seeing the night wind blow another gust of cold air toward them, she lowered her head slightly, wanting to shield Avira. The wind lifted Avira’s red hair, and a strand drifted onto Hanni’s nose.

A sweet and rich fragrance, like that of a ripe fruit, wafted into Hanni’s nose. She froze for a moment, then couldn’t help but lower her head and sniff around the side of Avira’s neck.

The white wolf’s warm breath sprayed against the side of Avira’s neck, and the tip of her damp nose even brushed against her skin. Avira’s hand, which was kneading the wolf’s paw, paused. She glanced sideways at the white wolf and asked with a raised eyebrow, “What are you doing now?”

Hanni was a little dazed. She sniffed deeply a few more times and said, “You smell so good.”

“Oh?” Avira’s interest was piqued. She reached out and hooked an arm around the white wolf’s neck, her smile ambiguous as she said, “Where do I smell good?”

The fragrance made Hanni a bit dizzy. Although she felt that this version of Avira was a bit strange, completely different from the timid and innocent girl she had first met, she didn’t have a clear enough mind to think about it right now.

Avira found the white wolf’s dazed look amusing and was about to tease her further when she suddenly sensed the approach of vampires from the Tzimisce clan. She put away her playful mood, removed her hand from the white wolf, and turned to look in the direction of the forest, her red lips slowly curving into an arc.

On the wooden bridge in the center of the forest.

A table, two chairs, a bottle of flower nectar—after a small “argument,” Cynthia’s treatment had finally returned to its original standard.

However, Cynthia didn’t consider her conversation with Olivia an argument. She felt that calling it “a fiery talk” was more appropriate.

Because she felt that their relationship had become a bit more “fiery” after that talk. Of course, whether Olivia agreed with this view, Cynthia didn’t know.

A continuous stream of the Power of Light flowed from her wrist into Olivia’s body. Influenced by the Power of Light, the Nature Power within Olivia’s body couldn’t help but spread outward a little. The vines on the bridge climbed higher and higher, their leaves turning a vibrant green, and they even bloomed with colorful flowers.

One vine secretly drooped down beside Olivia, and white petals fell all over her shoulder. The sound of Cynthia’s chanting stopped. Her gaze fell on Olivia’s shoulder, and the corners of her lips curved up slightly.

Olivia noticed Cynthia’s gaze and asked with a frown, “What are you looking at?”

For the past few days, Cynthia had been on the bridge helping Olivia adjust her condition. With the assistance of the Power of Light, Olivia’s complexion was no longer as pale as before, and even the fatigue in her eyes had faded somewhat.

Perhaps it was just Cynthia’s imagination, but she felt that Olivia’s pale green hair had become even more lustrous. Cynthia reached out, intending to brush the petals from Olivia’s shoulder, but changed her mind halfway and went straight for her hair instead.

Cynthia picked up a lock of Olivia’s long hair, watched it slip through her fingertips, and said with a smile, “I’m seeing if the Healing Spell is effective on you.”

She leaned in slightly, pretending to study Olivia’s face, and said in a serious tone, “It seems to be working quite well.”

Olivia glanced at the hand still holding her hair and expressionlessly slapped it away. She didn’t know what was wrong with this God Race member lately, always getting so handsy.

She raised a hand and pushed Cynthia’s shoulder to move her a little farther away, then turned her face aside and said faintly, “Thank you.”

Cynthia sat back in her seat, propped her chin on one hand, and said with a smile, “Is there a reward?”

“What do you want?”

Cynthia thought for a moment. Her gaze happened to land on the cup in front of Olivia, and just as she was about to ask for an identical one, Olivia suddenly stood up, her expression grave.

Cynthia frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Olivia turned to look in a certain direction, her tone slightly cold. “Vampires are approaching.”

And there were quite a few of them.