Chapter 267: Holy war 5

In a place where darkness reigned supreme, a colossal black castle stood as a foreboding sentinel, surrounded by an aura of sinister crimson energy. Thousands upon thousands of bats swarmed around the fortress, their wings beating rhythmically as they navigated through the shadowy expanse. With every flap, the air crackled with anticipation, echoing the ominous energy that permeated the land.

As the bats converged upon the castle, they began to coalesce, morphing into humanoid forms with red eyes glinting in the darkness and sharp fangs bared in anticipation. These were no ordinary beings—they were vampires, creatures of the night drawn to the castle like moths to a flame.

Among their ranks, there was a kaleidoscope of diversity—vampires of all colors, shapes, and sizes, each bearing the unique markings of their lineage and origin. Some hailed from distant kingdoms, their journey spanning continents and oceans, propelled by their supernatural speed and agility.

And so it was, a summons that echoed through the veins of every vampire, drawing them inexorably to the grand gathering called forth by an ancient decree embedded deep within their bloodline. None could ignore the call, for it was a mandate that resonated in their very souls—a summons from their true mother, Elizabeth Vespera Bloodraven, the progenitor of their immortal race.

Though many of them had remained hidden in the shadows of the mortal world, the urgency of the situation demanded their immediate attention. Across the globe, the fabric of reality itself seemed to fray as demons, ancient adversaries of their kind, brazenly launched assaults on their brethren.

As the vampires converged upon the throne room, a solemn assembly of dark royalty and nobility took shape. Without the need for words, they understood the gravity of the situation that had drawn them together. Standing in silent vigilance, they arrayed themselves along the vast chamber, forming a formidable presence that spoke volumes of their collective power and authority.

To their left and right, they positioned themselves, segregated by Herton, the venerable aide and butler to their progenitor. Despite his humble demeanor, Herton commanded a reverence that even the vampire kings dared not defy. His strength, derived from the purity of his bloodline, was unparalleled among their kind—a force to be reckoned with, and a testament to the ancient lineage that flowed through his veins.

Even the mightiest among them, the vampire kings themselves, bowed before Herton and followed his lead without question. In his presence, their individual power paled in comparison, for he was one of the few vampires whose strength rivaled that of their progenitor herself.

The silence in the throne room was palpable as the vampires awaited the arrival of their true queen, their anticipation hanging thick in the air like a shroud. Each of them stood with bated breath, their reverence for their monarch evident in the stillness that enveloped them.

Suddenly, the darkness seemed to constrict, wrapping around the chamber like a cloak before it transformed into a deep crimson hue, reminiscent of fresh blood. From this swirling vortex of scarlet emerged a figure of breathtaking beauty, her form illuminated by an otherworldly glow. With fiery red hair cascading around her shoulders and eyes that gleamed with ancient wisdom, she exuded an aura of regal grace and power.

As their queen descended upon the grand throne at the chamber's center, every vampire in attendance knelt before her, bowing their heads in a display of unwavering loyalty and respect. It was a ritual as old as time itself, a testament to the unbreakable bond between ruler and subject.

"Are these all of the family heads, Herton?" the queen inquired, her voice carrying the weight of authority and command.

"Yes, your majesty," Herton confirmed, his tone deferential as he stepped aside to stand at the queen's side, his presence a silent testament to her unrivaled status.

Seated upon her throne, Queen Elizabeth regarded her subjects with a mixture of solemnity and expectation. With a graceful movement, she crossed her legs, her gaze sweeping over the assembled vampires who awaited her words with bated breath.

"I'm sure all of you here knew as to why I called all of you here, right?"

With a solemn gesture, Elizabeth raised her hand, conjuring a massive cube of swirling blood at the center of the chamber. As the cube expanded and thinned, it morphed into a live feed, projecting scenes of chaos and destruction onto the walls of the throne room.

Yet, before she could finalize her decision, she sought the counsel of her fellow vampires, desiring to understand their thoughts and feelings on the matter.

With her eyes ablaze in a fiery crimson hue, Elizabeth addressed her assembled kin, her presence commanding and undeniable.

Each vampire in the room felt the weight of her gaze, their own blood stirring within them as they awaited her inquiry.

"M-my queen, if I may?" A young vampire with blond hair dared to speak up, his voice trembling with uncertainty. Acknowledging his request with a subtle nod, Elizabeth granted him permission to voice his thoughts.

"My queen," the young vampire began tentatively, "wouldn't it be better... to destroy humanity and side with the demons while the war is still ongoing? Don't you think now is a great chance?"

Intrigued by the young vampire's response, which clearly did not garner unanimous approval among the gathered vampires, Elizabeth smiled faintly and gestured for him to continue.

She was genuinely interested in delving deeper into his reasoning, to understand the motivations behind such a drastic suggestion.

"Why do you think we should join them in ending humanity, child?" Elizabeth inquired, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

The young vampire gulped audibly, his throat suddenly parched as he met the intense gaze of his progenitor. Summoning his courage, he spoke, his words measured yet tinged with palpable nervousness.

"The hero is dead... and only the advent of the demon king awaits this dying world," he began, his voice quivering slightly. "Even if all of us rise up now... once he arrives, none can stop the end of the world. Not even the gods above can prevent that. And once the demon king rules over the world, wouldn't it be better to take a seat of position upon his throne?" he concluded, his words trailing off nervously.

Elizabeth listened intently, her expression inscrutable as she considered his words carefully. Was he suggesting that they submit to the demon king's rule? Before she could press him further, however, the young vampire's form suddenly disintegrated into a thick mist of blood, leaving nothing behind but a lingering sense of unease.

With her mood soured by the unexpected turn of events, Elizabeth's crimson eyes darkened with displeasure.

"I see... so you're telling me to bow down to their king?" she mused aloud, her voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

"N-no I—"

The young vampire stammered, his attempt to clarify cut short as he exploded into a mist of blood, his life abruptly snuffed out in a gruesome display.

"Any other suggestions?"

With her mood fouled the remaining vampires could only choose to silent.