Chapter 11: Rebellion

On the outskirts of the Blood Clan territory, within a dense forest, Prince Michael stood beneath an ancient tree, gazing at the castle illuminated by the eerie moonlight. A wry smile played on his lips.

Dressed in an immaculate white suit with a perfectly tied bowtie, he appeared deceivingly earnest and upright, despite the carnage unfolding before him. Ignoring the battlefield ahead, his calm demeanor made him seem approachable and amiable.

However, coupled with the wreckage surrounding him, his smile took on an air of inevitability.

Before him, two factions of vampires engaged in a fierce battle that seemed evenly matched, but soon the tide began to turn. More vampires joined the fray, accompanied by a large group of werewolves.

Under a black cloak, Fred moved on all fours, his movements distinctly non-human, resembling a ferocious beast as he sprinted across the ground. Thousands of werewolves followed in a massive formation, with only Fred wearing the mysterious and peculiar cloak.

The winds they stirred up were fierce, raising dust and breaking the surrounding thorns and bushes.

In the aerial combat, one faction of vampires, with the assistance of the newly arrived vampires, changed their strategy. They focused on attacking the wings of their opponents, causing them to fall to the ground, where the werewolves would tear them apart and consume them.

On the ground, vampires without wings were directly tackled from behind by the werewolves and bitten to death.

"Michael, you traitor! Collaborating with outsiders and betraying the Queen!"

A vampire, whose bat wings were torn apart, leaving only half, plummeted heavily to the ground. With wide-open eyes, he glared angrily at Michael, his voice squeezed out painfully through gritted teeth.

Dressed in the uniform of the Blood Clan's elite guards, covered in blood, he lay on the ground, being torn apart by several werewolves.

Michael, in his pristine white suit untouched by a drop of blood, heard the words and kindly lowered his head to look at him, offering a friendly smile.

"Heh," Fiona, leading a group of vampires into the battle, laughed coldly upon hearing the statement and flew towards them. "What queen? Daisy won't be the queen for much longer!"

She effortlessly grabbed the vampire's right shoulder and lifted him off the ground. The werewolves biting him immediately dispersed to attack other vampires.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Fiona sneered at him, his body already mangled and powerless. "Daisy has been captured by the M.R. laboratory. Whether she survives or not is uncertain! Today, the Blood Clan will welcome a new queen! Hahaha—"

At this point, she burst into loud laughter, her expression triumphant and manic.

"You're also a trai—" His furious words were cut off as Fiona bit his neck artery, draining him of blood.

Fiona, treating him like trash, threw him to the ground. Her black high heels ruthlessly crushed his shriveled corpse, and she arrogantly declared, "It's your honor to welcome the new queen with your lowly life."

Breaking through the outer defenses of the castle took about an hour in total.

As they reached the base of the mountain where the castle stood, Fiona enthusiastically clung to Michael's arm, showing no reservations despite her revealing attire.

In her teasing words, there was an undisguised sense of pride and disdain. "Oh dear, the castle had nearly ten thousand Blood Clan defenders. Almost thirty percent fled with injuries, nearly thirty percent were captured, and nearly ten percent surrendered. I wonder how that foolish woman Daisy trained her troops."

Michael sensed that something was off, but it seemed within the normal range. His subordinates had secretly reported to him about Daisy's unconventional and somewhat ridiculous training methods. Who knew if they were effective or just for show?

However, he had no intention of revealing to Fiona that Daisy was just a pawn in his game.

So, he turned to Fiona with a smile, his gaze sincere and infatuated, saying, "My dear queen, when I ascend to the throne, I will surely train the most resilient and powerful, wise and loyal army in the world. They will all be dedicated to you, conquering various races under your command, undefeated in a hundred battles."

Upon hearing such flattering words, Fiona burst into hearty laughter, completely oblivious to the momentary disgust that flickered in Michael's eyes as he turned away.

Before the vampires and werewolves they led could reach the castle, a divided state had already emerged inside.

The steward, Andrew, and the vampires supporting him faced off nervously against another group of Blood Clan members, creating a tense atmosphere.

The captain of the guards led a large group of soldiers, filled with righteous anger, accusing Andrew from across the way. "Steward Andrew, despite everyone's respect for you, you have conspired with Prince Michael, colluding with outsiders, attempting rebellion, betraying the queen who raised you. You have betrayed the trust of everyone!"

"Apologies, but I have only one true king, the one who led our clan to glory for three thousand years—Richard. Today's actions are merely to avenge my beloved king," Andrew spoke with his customary elegance, maintaining a refined demeanor as if discussing a mundane matter.

"What are you talking about?" the captain of the guards frowned. "I don't know what revenge you seek, but I do know that King Richard is the father of the queen. It was he who entrusted the queen to you. How could you betray him?"

"No, my king did not entrust Daisy to me," Andrew calmly replied. "It was I who supported her, only to one day seize the throne from this wicked woman. She is not worthy of occupying the seat once graced by my king."

"Do not slander the queen! For over two hundred years, the queen has devoted herself to the welfare of her subjects. Where is the wickedness in her heart, and how is she unworthy of the throne?" The captain of the guards roared indignantly. Though his subordinates, bound by protocol, couldn't voice their opinions, their gazes toward Andrew burned with furious flames.

However, Andrew burst into laughter upon hearing these words.

"Care for her subjects... but why is she so cruel to her own father?" he remarked.

The captain of the guards stared at him in disbelief, loudly questioning, "What are you talking about?"

Andrew tilted his head slightly, gazing towards the throne with a hint of nostalgia, as if lost in distant memories.

After a moment, he spoke slowly, "Over two hundred years ago, my king fell into a deep slumber after drinking the blood Daisy offered him. He has yet to awaken to this day."

"Do you have any evidence to prove that the queen had a hand in it?" The captain of the guards clearly didn't believe him, and aside from his supporters, no one else did either.

Because it was too preposterous.

Who didn't know that King Richard cherished his only daughter, Princess Daisy, and wouldn't allow any harm to befall her?

How could the queen possibly plot against her own beloved father?

Andrew didn't answer his question. Instead, his gaze suggested he regarded the captain as if he were already a dead man.

Perhaps Andrew had no evidence at all.

In any case, before the rebels from below could reach the mountaintop, the two factions had already engaged in combat.

The only place in the castle not yet soaked in blood was the floor where the captive blood servant boys were kept.

However, when the vampires grew tired and weakened from the battle, and if they felt thirsty, whether they would come to feed on the boys remained uncertain.

So, the blood servant boys were all extremely frightened, huddling in their rooms, wondering how to appease the new king if the castle fell completely.

What they had learned before was all about pleasing the queen. How does one please a man? It would have been better if there were a queen.

So, they all unconsciously hoped that the new king must have a queen.

Apart from this, they had no concerns at all for anyone else, whether it be vampires or anyone beyond themselves.