Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 209: THE REVIVED CLAN

Marquis Alexander stared intently at Emperor Augustus, carefully gauging the man's expression, hoping for a hint—any sign that the story he fed him had been believed. But the emperor's face remained impassive, carved from stone, unreadable and cold.

"Meeting with an enemy is indeed a habit that shouldn't be made known to the public," Augustus finally said, his voice smooth and even.

Marquis Alexander frowned subtly. The way the emperor phrased it, the calm indifference in his tone—it sent a chill crawling up his spine. The emperor knew. He didn't just suspect. He knew.

"My lord, that was—"

"That's enough." Augustus's voice sliced through his words, sharp and commanding. "I have no intention of playing this game with you. I've known from the very beginning."

Alexander's mouth twitched, but he remained silent.

"A vampire, skillfully hiding in plain sight within my empire. The one responsible for sowing seeds of doubt and distrust—tainting my name, my people, my rule." Augustus rose slowly from his seat, the weight of his authority filling the room like a suffocating mist. "Tell me, what did you discuss with that foreigner? Nemesis, was it?"

Despite the emperor's calm voice, the weight behind each word struck like thunder. Marquis Alexander's composed mask cracked for a moment before he schooled his features back into neutrality. He exhaled deeply, as if finally shedding the pointless burden of deception.

"You've already made up your mind," he said with a faint smile, tinged with both regret and admiration. "How long have you known?"

"Since I took the throne," Augustus replied casually, as if discussing the weather. "I ordered a complete investigation of all the nobles—those who raised even a flicker of suspicion were placed under quiet observation. But it wasn't until recently that I truly understood your identity. Your ring should have been a clear giveaway." He glanced at the blood-red jewel resting on Alexander's finger. "But even I can sometimes overlook what's right in front of me."

Despite remaining seated, the emperor radiated a deadly composure, like a dormant volcano on the verge of eruption.

"So then, Your Majesty… what now?" Marquis Alexander's voice dropped in tone. His gaze shifted toward a shadowed corner of his lavish bedroom. "Or perhaps I should say—what do you all intend to do with me?"

From within the darkness, a faint laugh echoed.

"Oh Marquis, how sharp of you to sense me." A voice emerged, soft and sinister, as a cloaked figure stepped out from the void. His face was concealed beneath a porcelain-white mask, the number 20 etched crudely into its surface.

Marquis Alexander stiffened, eyes wide with disbelief. "You… how is this possible? Your clan was annihilated—wiped out by the world's united armies!"

"Indeed," the masked figure said, tilting his head slightly. "Our old clan was purged… all but one survived—our goddess. She gave us a new gift, a new purpose. From her divine will, a stronger, better clan was born." He giggled with a childlike glee that contrasted chillingly with the darkness swirling around him.

Emperor Augustus didn't flinch. He moved toward the doorway with the grace of a man who had already won. "Enough chatter. Take him—and everyone in his estate. Guards, servants, nobles alike. They'll all serve as fine raw material for more shadow slaves. We'll need many before the final act."

The emperor's words left a suffocating silence in their wake.

Marquis Alexander's face turned pale. "Shadow slaves?" he whispered.

He staggered backward slightly, the implication striking like a hammer. He'd heard of them—beings of dread and ancient horror, immune to divine interference, feared by gods and mortals alike. They thrived by devouring others, grew stronger with every consumed soul, and could only be truly killed by destroying their hidden shadow core—a task nearly impossible, for the core was concealed in a random part of their body, invisible to even the sharpest senses.

"Augustus," Alexander whispered, voice trembling. "Do you know what you've allied with?"

The emperor turned back only once, his eyes locking with the Marquis's. That single glance, cold and unyielding, carried all the message it needed to. Then he left.

The door clicked softly shut.

Marquis Alexander stood frozen, rage and despair boiling within him. Then he bared his fangs, a glint of red flashing in his eyes. "If you think I'll go down easily… you're sorely mistaken."

The masked figure—Number Twenty—tilted his head and giggled. "Aw, the big bad vampire is showing his teeth! How exciting! Let's make this fun, shall we?"

Suddenly, the shadows on the floor surged like a wave, creeping and twisting like countless black ants pouring from the cracks of reality. They swallowed the entire room, blotting out all light, turning it into a suffocating abyss.

"Perfect," Number Twenty whispered. "Now no one will interfere. What do you say, Marquis? Ready to play?"

Alexander didn't answer. He crouched, eyes scanning every corner, every fold of the living shadow, waiting for an attack.

"Blood Ray!" he muttered, his fingers firing a piercing beam of compressed blood toward a shadowed patch he believed the enemy would emerge from. The ray vanished into the darkness, absorbed without a trace.

"Tsk tsk," came a whisper behind him.

Alexander spun, slashing backward, but struck only empty air.

"My my, so violent. Trying to hurt me already? But I know deep down, you're a sweetheart—just a little temperamental, that's all." The voice echoed from every direction now, surrounding him.

"Allow me to return the favor." freёwebnoѵel.com

Without warning, a crimson-black blood ray shot from the shadows, piercing through Alexander's hamstring with devastating precision. He gasped in pain, falling to one knee.

"Urgh!" he groaned, clutching his leg—but another ray struck, piercing his other leg, this time higher—through his thigh.

"Look at you! Shivering with delight. You really do enjoy my gifts," Number Twenty cooed mockingly, hands placed over the mouth of his mask like a child delighted by a toy.

"Let's give you more!"

From every direction, the shadow-absorbed blood rays struck, faster and faster. They hit and vanished before Alexander could react. He tried to defend himself, muttering, "Blood Wall!" and raising a barrier of thick crimson liquid around him.

But Number Twenty pouted like a scolded child. "That's no fun! Blocking my love letters like that? You're such a meanie!"

The shadows swirled again, wrapping around the blood wall, devouring it greedily. The wall twisted, turned darker—until it shattered, the magic hijacked and turned against its creator.

"Uh-oh, sleepy already?" Number Twenty said in a sing-song tone, watching the weakened Marquis collapse to the floor, gasping, riddled with bloody holes. His limbs trembled, his mind swam with dizziness.

"Guess my poison shadows were a bit much, huh?" Number Twenty chuckled softly, crouching beside him. He brushed a lock of blood-matted hair from Alexander's face.

"But don't worry, dear Marquis. You'll become something beautiful. A creature even you never imagined…"

As the last of Alexander's consciousness faded into the cold embrace of shadow, Number Twenty smiled beneath his mask.