CHAPTER 194: THE BETRAYER’S TRUTH

The battlefield had quieted for only a heartbeat after Aamir’s overwhelming aura forced even the vampire lords to bow their heads. Dust still drifted in the air. From the shadows, nine tall figures stepped forward, their crimson eyes glowing like embers. Each wore armor black as night, lined with runes that pulsed faintly with blood magic. They moved in unison and stood behind their king—Zalmic.

Aamir’s gaze swept across them, then stopped on the imposing figure standing at Zalmic’s side. His presence was darker, heavier—something about him felt older, ancient even.

Aamir tilted his head, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.

"So, Zalmic... who’s this guy standing with you?"

Zalmic’s jaw tightened. His expression, usually unreadable, flickered with discomfort.

"He is... the Vampire God."

Aamir raised a brow and gave a short, sharp laugh.

"Vampire God, huh? I don’t get it. Why is it that the moment someone has a little power, they suddenly crown themselves a god? The arrogance is laughable."

The so-called Vampire God smirked, his voice deep and venomous.

"You didn’t tell your guest the truth, brother. You didn’t tell him that I... am your brother."

Aamir’s expression hardened, his eyes darting to Zalmic.

"...What?"

Zalmic sighed heavily, his shoulders sinking as if the weight of years pressed down on him.

"Yes. He is my younger brother."

The Vampire God spread his arms with mock pride. His black cloak swept outward, and the faint outlines of chains carved into his pale skin shimmered beneath the torchlight.

"My true name is Shamrock. And unlike my weak brother, I carry the rightful blood of royalty untainted."

Aamir narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping low.

"If he’s your brother, then why do you stand on opposite sides? What kind of bond breaks so badly that blood turns against blood?"

Shamrock’s grin vanished. His tone grew sharp, his words cutting through the tension.

"He betrayed us first. It was he who dishonored our bloodline. He let his first daughter marry an outsider. He let her leave. A king who cannot uphold the sacred rules... is no king at all."

Aamir’s fists clenched. His voice rang out like a whip.

"That’s it? That’s the reason? Because he let his daughter choose the man she loved? That’s enough to condemn him?"

Zalmic’s voice shook—not with fear, but with emotion long buried. He looked at Shamrock with weary, aching eyes.

"She was my daughter. How could I chain her heart? She found happiness, and I would not take it from her. That... was my choice as a father."

His voice cracked slightly as he continued.

"But you, Shamrock... you left me when I needed you most. You turned your back, not just on me, but on all our people."

For the first time, Aamir heard Zalmic’s voice not as a king, but as a father—a man.

Shamrock’s expression twisted. His words lashed out like venom.

"Do not put this on me, brother! Rules were rules. You broke them. And because of you, the kingdom weakened. Outsiders stepped into our world. Bloodlines tainted. Our legacy—ruined!"

He turned, his gaze piercing Aamir.

"And you, outsider, dare to speak of things you cannot understand. You are not of our royalty. You will never understand what it means to preserve a throne built on centuries of blood."

Aamir’s lip curled into a half-smile.

"And thank god I don’t. If royalty means shackling your own family for tradition, then I want nothing to do with it."

Shamrock’s eyes burned with fury.

"Then it’s too late for words."

With a roar, Shamrock lunged—his movement a blur, claws glinting in the dim light. His target was Zalmic.

But before the strike could land, a hand shot out. Sparks of golden energy cracked through the air as Aamir intercepted the blow, their clash sending a shockwave rippling through the chamber.

"If you want him... you’ll have to get through me first."

Shamrock snarled, his fangs flashing.

"You would defend a traitor king?"

"I defend the man who stood for love instead of chains."

Before Shamrock could retort, another presence surged. From the side, Seemus burst forward, eyes blazing with bloodlust. His claws slashed toward Zalmic, who quickly raised his own blade to counter. The two collided with a thunderous crack, sparks flying.

The chamber erupted into chaos.

The vampire lords loyal to Zalmic formed a shield wall around their king, fangs bared as they met the endless tide of masked vampires pouring from the shadows. Behind them, werewolves surged into the fray, their snarls shaking the stone.

The clash of steel, claws, and magic shook the battlefield.

Zalmic’s voice thundered above it all.

"Stand your ground! For the blood of our people, do not falter!"

Aamir shoved Shamrock back with a surge of raw force, his aura glowing faintly again. His golden energy clashed violently against Shamrock’s blood-red aura, the two forces hissing and tearing at each other like fire and acid.

Shamrock’s lips curled into a cruel smile.

"You’re strong, outsider. Stronger than most I’ve fought. But your strength will not save him. Not tonight."

Aamir’s eyes burned with defiance.

"We’ll see about that."

All around them, the war between brothers—the king and the so-called god—tore apart the battlefield.

Aamir’s eyes narrowed, locked on Shemrock as they exchanged brutal blows—but even in the storm of combat, his gaze drifted toward the towering figure tearing through the vampires.

Seemus. The Werewolf King.

Aamir felt it immediately—something was wrong. The way Seemus moved, the wildness in his eyes, the aura leaking from his massive frame—it wasn’t just bloodlust. It was like a chain wrapped around his very soul.

"System," Aamir muttered, parrying one of Shemrock’s punches, "Appraise Seemus. Now."

A chime rang in his ears.

Ding! Appraisal complete.

[Target: Seemus – Alpha Werewolf King]

Status: Under Influence of an External Entity. Forced into battle. Mental state compromised.

Recommendation: Liberation through Domination—Host may utilize Beastlord’s Domain to claim control.

Aamir’s jaw tightened. "Damn it... he isn’t even fighting willingly."

He dodged a claw strike from Shemrock and shouted across the battlefield, his voice cutting through the roars and howls:

"Lord Zalmic! Don’t kill Seemus—he’s being controlled!"

The Vampire King, locked in a brutal duel with the Werewolf King, turned his head sharply, crimson eyes narrowing. "Controlled, you say? Then what do you suggest, Lord Aamir? If I don’t put him down, he’ll rip through my lords before long!"

Aamir exhaled sharply. "There’s one way... but it’ll bind him to me."

Zalmic’s brows furrowed. "Bind him? What do you mean?"

Aamir’s eyes glowed faintly golden. "I can use my Beastlord’s Domain. If I mark him, he’ll become... mine. My beast. My pet."

For a moment, silence cut the battle between them. Then Zalmic gave a dark laugh, baring his fangs. "A pet? Hah... better than a grave. Do it, Aamir. Free him from this curse!"

Without wasting another second, Aamir slammed his foot into the ground. A ripple of golden energy burst out from him, expanding into a vast Beastlord’s Domain. The aura wrapped around the battlefield like a second sky, pressing down on every creature present.

The Nine Vampire Lords staggered, clutching their chests. Even Zalmic grunted as the mark seared into his body. But instead of pain, warmth spread through their veins. The exhaustion that had been dragging them down vanished. Torn muscles knitted, broken bones reformed, and a surge of vitality coursed through them.

One of the lords gasped. "My... fatigue... it’s gone!"

Zalmic clenched his fists, feeling the raw power flood back into him. "By the abyss... this strength! It’s as though life itself is flowing through me!"

Aamir’s voice rang across the domain. "Good. Now hold him down!"

Zalmic roared, his aura bursting like a tide of blood. "Crimson Sovereignty!"

Chains of blood erupted from the ground, wrapping around Seemus’s massive frame. The Werewolf King snarled and struggled, his claws tearing at the bindings, but the combined pressure of the Domain and Zalmic’s Sovereignty forced him to his knees.

Aamir stepped forward, sweat dripping from his brow. His golden aura lashed out like tendrils, etching the Beastlord’s Mark onto Seemus’s chest.

The moment it burned into him, Seemus’s howl shook the battlefield. His killing intent vanished, like a storm breaking into clear skies. His glowing red eyes dimmed, replaced with their natural silver hue.

Breathing heavily, Seemus looked around in confusion. "What... what happened to me?"

Zalmic smirked, tightening his chains just enough to keep him still. "You were being used, wolf. You’re fortunate Lord Aamir was here."

But Aamir didn’t have time to explain further.

A crushing fist slammed into his jaw, forcing him back several steps. Shemrock’s cold voice followed immediately after:

"Don’t forget who your real opponent is, Aamir!"

Aamir wiped the blood from his lip, eyes burning as he caught Shemrock’s fist with his own. The shockwave split the ground beneath them.

He smirked. "I didn’t forget. I was just finishing my warm-up."

The two clashed again, their blows splitting the air like thunder. Behind them, the Vampire King and the freed Werewolf King exchanged glances—now, finally, fighting on the same side.