Pyris exhaled slowly, tilting his head as he glanced down at Veyna's unconscious form. Another pawn on the board. Another advantage in his hands. The corner of his lips quirked into a smirk—he was practically tearing into Dracula's empire from the inside out, and the old monster didn't even know it yet.
"Do the honors, Shez."
His voice was smooth, almost bored, as if he were asking for a cup of tea rather than ordering the enslavent of one of Dracula's most trusted nobles.
Shez stepped forward, her dark eyes gleaming with eerie amusent. "As my lord commands."
The mont she raised her hand, an oppressive force settled over the room. The temperature plumted, the very air growing heavier with an unseen weight. Shez's phantom energy wrapped around Veyna's body, slithering like invisible chains, pressing against her soul itself.
A low, distorted hum filled the training hall as the seal began to take hold. Unlike Abaddon's brute-force approach with Blood Burn Fiend, Shez's thod was… artful. The energy crawled into Veyna's very being, binding her essence with the delicate precision of a master weaver.
Veyna's body trembled. Even in unconsciousness, her instincts scread at her, resisting the intrusion. But resistance was futile. Shez was a Phantom Lord, her power a nightmare in the shadows, and Veyna—no matter how cunning—was nothing more than prey.
The seal locked into place.
Shez withdrew her hand, stepping back with a satisfied sigh. "It's done, Young Lord."
Pyris gave an approving nod, his golden eyes glinting in amusent. Two of Dracula's own now danced to his tune. He had a direct line into the Vampire Emperor's world. A whisper into his secrets. A way to pick apart everything the old monster had sched—all without Dracula even realizing it.
A massive leverage.
Perhaps… he should thank Silent Night for simply existing and putting herself in Dracula's crosshairs. Perhaps he should thank Dracula himself—for being so predictably twisted in his nature, for wanting Silent Night to drown in desperation before her death.
And in doing so, he had played right into Pyris' hands.
The young dragon sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well… I suppose that puts one or five steps ahead now." Pyris was now one step ahead… No. He would always be five steps ahead of Dracula.
He had no illusions that the Vampire Emperor would ever honor their so-called alliance. Dracula was a scher, a predator who lurked in the shadows, always waiting for the perfect mont to sink his fangs into his prey. He would manipulate, deceive, and twist every situation to his advantage.
But that was fine.
Because Pyris was doing the exact sa thing. That's why he had already decided—he would personally step into Dracula's castle in the next few days, under the guise of delivering the Blood Armor himself. A dangerous move? Perhaps.
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But the real question was… who was the smarter beast?
Would Dracula eventually realize that he had underestimated Pyris? That his careful manipulations had already been unraveled from within? Or would Pyris finally witness the true depths of Dracula's cunning, the terrifying intellect of a monster who had lived for centuries?
A dragon and a vampire. Two apex predators circling each other in the dark.
One of them was bound to bleed first.
But that was a concern for the future.
For now, the only thing that mattered… was securing the next advantage. Pyris chuckled under his breath, stretching his arms lazily. "Ah~ the thrill of the wits. The hunt~"
Pyris had more fronts to fight on than Dracula, but he wasn't alone. With phantoms at his command, ti itself couldn't predict how far he would go.
Shez didn't need to be told what to do. Silent as a shadow, she vanished with Veyna, who was still too dazed to comprehend what was happening.
The mont they were gone, Mira turned to Pyris, her crimson eyes gleaming with quiet admiration. "You handled that well, Young Lord," she murmured.
Pyris smiled—a slow, knowing smile. His hands reached out, gently settling on her shoulders, his touch light but firm.
Mira tensed instantly.
He stepped closer. Too close.
Heat coiled in her chest, spreading through her like wildfire. Her body, though honed by centuries of battle and discipline, betrayed her in an instant. She felt weak—not in power, but in control.
His presence was overwhelming, a force more potent than any spell or blade. The Lust Dragon's pull was absolute. It wrapped around her like an invisible chain, binding her in a way she didn't want to resist.
Mira's breath hitched.
If she could, she would close the distance in an instant—seize his lips, surrender to the intoxicating aura that was Pyris. But sohow… taking that final step felt harder than traversing the entire mortal realm. Pyris exhaled, his warm breath ghosting over her skin. Their faces inched closer.
Their breaths mingled, the tension so thick it could suffocate.
Their lips—
"Silent Night is here, my lord."
The sudden voice shattered the mont like glass eting stone.
Song's voice echoed through the training hall, unbothered, unaware of what he had just interrupted. "She's being attended by Miss Anastasia."
Mira and Pyris instantly stepped back.
An awkward silence hung between them.
Mira's pulse pounded in her ears. She turned away, trying to compose herself, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. Pyris let out a soft chuckle, his lips quirking up.
"Damn Song." His timing was impeccable… and infuriatin
Outside the training hall, Song muffled his laughter, barely containing himself. His shoulders shook, his lips pressed tightly together as he leaned against the wall, biting down on his knuckle to stop the sounds from escaping. Who would have thought? The untouchable Phantom Venerable, the cold and ruthless Mira, was acting like a maiden in love.
He peeked inside.
Mira was still standing there, stiff and awkward, her head slightly lowered, her fingers brushing against the spot where Pyris had just touched her.
And Pyris? That smug grin on his face—the man was enjoying himself.
That was it. Song lost it.
He threw his head back in silent laughter, gripping his stomach, his whole body trembling as he nearly collapsed to the floor. Tears welled up in his eyes from the sheer cody of it all. Mira, the Phantom Venerable, blushing? Avoiding eye contact? This was priceless.
A chuckle finally slipped out—a little too loud.
Mira's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"You're dead after this, Song.".Her voice was as calm as ever, but the underlying promise of retribution sent chills down his spine.
Song imdiately straightened, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Ah, co on, Venerable," he whispered, still grinning. "You can't bla a guy for appreciating such a rare sight."
Mira's gaze sharpened.
Shit.
She could see through everything. Unlike Song, who was here in his real body, Mira only existed in the mortal realm through her shadow body. Even though it was weaker than her true form, her perception was terrifying. No matter how much he tried to hide it—there was no escaping her gaze no matter the void layers he put in place.
Song swallowed hard, preparing to bolt.
But before anything could happen—
"We shall continue from here next ti."
Pyris' voice was smooth, final.
Mira's attention snapped back to him, just as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Her breath caught.
Before she could even react—he was already walking away.
Leaving behind a very stunned Mira.
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