The next day.
The contract dissolution ritual lasted the entire day.
Inside the main hall of the Night Rose Palace.
Lilian sat upon her towering throne. She had specifically changed into an intricate crimson gown, and atop her head sat the Crown of Thorns, the symbol of her power.
On the inner side of her left wrist, the black slave mark that had burned like a branding iron for so long was gone.
Her skin was as smooth as new.
The Sword of Damocles that had been perpetually suspended over her soul had finally shattered.
It felt good.
The sheer satisfaction made her scalp tingle.
She looked down from her high vantage point toward the palace entrance.
That man had not arrived yet.
“Remove the chair.”
Lilian waved her hand, pointing at the chair in the center of the hall that had been prepared for a guest.
The werewolf guard hesitated. “Your Majesty, that is for…”
“I said remove it.”
Lilian’s voice was ice-cold. “This is the palace of the vampires. Aside from me, no one is entitled to sit.”
The guard didn't dare talk back and hurriedly carried the chair away.
In the empty hall, only the throne on the high platform remained.
Lilian adjusted her posture, trying her best to look more dignified.
She wanted to watch Bell Lucas stand.
She wanted him to look up at her like a true subject.
Just as she had looked up at him in that basement.
Heavy footsteps echoed.
The doors swung open.
Two figures walked in against the light.
Bell walked in front, wearing a simple white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the smooth lines of his forearms.
Leila followed behind, holding a thick notebook in her hands like a student rushing to class.
Bell entered the hall.
His footsteps stopped at the base of the steps.
He surveyed the empty floor before his gaze finally landed on Lilian atop the platform.
He made no move to salute.
He didn't even nod.
“The mark is gone?”
Bell spoke, his tone as casual as if he were asking if she’d eaten.
Lilian stood up abruptly.
She raised her left hand, showing Bell that patch of smooth skin.
“It’s gone.”
Her voice trembled with an irrepressible ecstasy and malice. “Bell Lucas, look closely.”
“From this moment on, I am no longer your slave.”
“I am the master of this land, the Queen of the Night.”
“And you…”
Lilian took a deep breath and pointed at the floor tiles beneath her. “You are merely a human without mana.”
“In the presence of the Queen, why do you not kneel?”
The air froze.
The werewolf guard nearby buried his head in his chest, wishing he could go deaf on the spot.
Making that ruthless man, who could chat and laugh with the First Ancestor, kneel?
Had Her Majesty lost her mind?
Bell looked at Lilian’s face, which was slightly distorted by excitement.
He suddenly laughed.
It was a contemptuous laugh.
It was as if he were looking at an infant who wanted to try parkour before even learning how to walk.
“Leila.”
Bell didn't even turn his head as he snapped his fingers.
“I am here.”
The First Ancestor behind him immediately stepped forward, closing her notebook with a respectful expression.
“I’m tired,” Bell said flatly. “I don’t want to stand.”
Leila didn't hesitate for a second.
She raised her hand and made a grasping motion in the air.
Rumble.
The ground shook violently.
Countless crimson crystals erupted from the floor, rapidly restructuring and stacking behind Bell.
In the blink of an eye.
A crystal throne, even wider and more luxurious than the one under Lilian’s seat, appeared out of thin air.
To ensure Bell’s comfort, Leila even thoughtfully used her mana to lay a soft blood mist cushion over it.
Bell turned and sat down.
He crossed his legs.
His height was now exactly half a head higher than Lilian’s.
Even while sitting, he was looking down at her.
“You…”
Lilian shook with rage, her finger trembling as she pointed at him. “Leila! You are an Ancestor! How can you…”
Leila glanced at her coldly. “Teaching is hard work for the teacher; he shouldn't be exhausted.”
Lilian felt as if someone had delivered a heavy blow to her chest.
Teacher?
Rolling in bed yesterday, and now he’s a teacher today?
What kind of game were these two playing?
“Alright, enough nonsense.”
Bell leaned back against the chair, interlacing his fingers over his knee. “The contract is dissolved, and your wish has been fulfilled.”
“Now, let’s talk business.”
“Business?”
Lilian gritted her teeth, staring fixedly at Bell’s unperturbed face.
She hated this look of absolute control he had.
The contract was clearly dissolved!
She was clearly the Queen!
Why did she still feel like a dog in front of this man?
“Right.”
Lilian let out a cold laugh and sat back on her throne. “We should indeed talk business.”
“You promised me you would lure Cecilia here.”
“But I’ve changed my mind.”
Lilian leaned forward, a malicious light flickering in her eyes. “Now that the contract is dissolved, why should I still listen to you?”
“You want me to leave you alone?”
“Fine.”
“Beg me.”
Lilian imitated Ed’s tone, though she failed to capture the same aura. “Kneel and beg me, and I’ll consider letting you go back to the academy.”
Bell raised an eyebrow.
He turned to look at Leila.
“This is the Queen you chose?”
Bell’s voice was full of disappointment. “She doesn't seem very bright.”
Leila remained expressionless. “She’s a stopgap; Daywalkers are hard to find, after all.”
“You two!”
Lilian was furious, a blood whip condensing in her palm. “Don't think I won't touch you just because Leila is protecting you! This is my—”
“Blood Dance Tattoo.”
Bell softly uttered those three words.
The whip in Lilian’s hand instantly dissolved.
Like a duck being choked, all sound from her ceased abruptly.
“What did you say?”
Her face turned deathly pale in an instant.
“I said, the Blood Dance Tattoo.”
Bell shifted into a more comfortable position. “Without that tattoo, you are nothing but a hollow shell.”
“Even if you can walk in the sun now, even if the ten ancestors are temporarily supporting you.”
“As long as that tattoo is not on your body, you will never be a true ruler.”
Bell’s gaze became sharp, like two scalpels precisely dissecting Lilian’s deepest fears.
“The ancestors listen to you now because you can give them sunlight.”
“But if they discover that you, this ‘Daywalker,’ are actually a fraud who can’t even accept the inheritance…”
Bell paused, his lips curling into a cruel arc.
“Guess what Ed would do?”
“Would that freak slice you up for research?”
“Or would he lock you in a cage to use you as a new type of blood-making machine?”
Lilian’s body was shaking.
It wasn't anger.
It was fear. A fear that reached her very marrow.
Every word Bell said was a nightmare she had experienced in the dead of night.
“You… do you have a way?”
Lilian’s voice softened, carrying a hint of a plea.
That arrogant and overbearing aura from moments ago vanished without a trace.
Even without a contract.
As long as she still had desires and fears.
She would always be the one led by the nose.
Bell didn't answer directly.
He pulled a neatly folded piece of parchment from his pocket and tossed it at Lilian’s feet.
“Pick it up.”
A commanding tone.
Exactly the same as before.
Lilian looked at the paper.
Then she looked at Bell.
A deathly silence filled the hall.
The werewolf guard lowered his head even further.
A few seconds of standoff passed.
Lilian slowly bent her waist.
Humiliated, she picked up the paper.
She opened it.
On it were complex mana circuit diagrams and dense formulas with annotations.
She couldn't understand them.
But she could feel the heart-stopping logic of power contained within.
“This is a tattoo integration plan derived by Leila based on my theories,” Bell said flatly. “It can help you bypass the fear judgment and forcibly merge with the Blood Dance Tattoo.”
Lilian’s hand tightened around the parchment.
This was a life-saving straw.
It was her only hope of securing her throne.
“Conditions.”
Lilian looked up, her gaze complex. “What do you want?”
“It’s simple.”
Bell stood up, brushing non-existent dust from his trousers.
“I want to attend tonight’s banquet.”
“Furthermore.”
He walked up to Lilian and looked down at her.
The distance was very close.
Close enough that Lilian could smell the faint scent of soap on him.
“I want you, in your capacity as Queen, to announce to the entire city.”
“That I am your Chief Advisor.”
“And that I possess the same… power over life and death as you.”
Lilian’s eyes widened.
“Are you crazy? Those nobles will tear you apart!”
Allowing a human to have such power?
This was practically a challenge to the entire Blood Race’s bottom line.
“That’s my problem.”
Bell turned and walked toward the hall exit.
Leila followed closely behind, even helping him push open the heavy doors.
When he reached the doorway, Bell stopped.
He didn't look back.
He simply waved his hand with his back turned to Lilian.
“Remember, Lilian.”
“Contracts are made of paper; they're gone once torn.”
“But some things are etched into the bone.”
The doors slammed shut.
Lilian slumped onto her throne, the parchment in her hand soaked with sweat.
She stared at the empty doorway.
Suddenly, she felt.
That slave mark that had just disappeared.
It hadn't really gone away.
It had just moved its position.
From the wrist, it had crawled to the heart.
It was the shadow named “Bell Lucas.”
And it would never dissipate.
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