CHAPTER 174: KING TO KING

Aamir grabbed the crystal glass set before him and tilted it slightly. The thick, crimson liquid within swirled lazily, reflecting the dim, blood-red glow of the chandelier above. He brought it closer to his face, his sharp eyes scanning every detail.

This smell... it’s metallic... rich... definitely not wine.

He tapped the glass lightly with his finger, the sound echoing faintly through the grand dining hall.

"So... this thing," he muttered with a faint smirk, "it’s blood, isn’t it?"

The Vampire King chuckled, his deep voice reverberating like rolling thunder.

"Indeed," he said proudly. "One of the finest vintages on this planet. Taken from a Rank 3 Blood Beast. Only the royal family and honored guests may drink it."

Aamir narrowed his eyes. "Rank 3 blood beast, huh?"

He raised his hand slightly, and his crimson system screen flickered into existence before his eyes.

[Appraisal Activated]

Lines of text scrolled rapidly across the glowing screen:

Item: Blood of Rank 3 Blood Beast

Quality: High

Effect: Safe for consumption. No hostile toxins detected.

Compatibility: Host is not a vampire. No additional effects will be gained.

Aamir smirked faintly and placed the glass back down on the table with a quiet clink.

"Hm. So this is just... a normal drink for me," he muttered under his breath.

Luman’s voice rang in his head, calm but slightly amused.

"Correct, host. To a vampire, this would be a source of strength. To you... it’s nothing more than flavored water."

Aamir leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

"Nope," he said casually, pushing the glass away. "I’m not drinking this."

The Vampire King tilted his head, intrigued. "You refuse the royal bloodwine?"

Aamir glanced at him, his expression calm but unwavering.

"Yeah. No offense, but I’m not really the type to drink blood for fun. I prefer... actual food."

A faint silence spread across the dining hall. The prince raised an eyebrow, clearly insulted, while the princess let out a small amused chuckle.

The king, however, only smiled wider, as though Aamir’s defiance amused him.

"Hah. Interesting," the Vampire King rumbled. "You truly are not like anyone I have met before... Aamir, King of Beasts."

Aamir smirked. "Damn right I’m not."

Luman’s voice chimed in again.

"Wise decision, host. You don’t need their approval. And besides... you’ve already made your presence known. Now, watch—they’ll be the ones trying to prove themselves to you."

Aamir casually reached for one of the actual dishes on the table—some roasted beast meat, dark and glistening with spices. He tore into it with a single bite, ignoring the stares of the royal family.

"Well," Aamir said between bites, "at least your meat isn’t bad."

The Vampire King chuckled once again, his eyes gleaming like crimson fire.

"Good. Eat well, King of Beasts.

The Vampire King’s laughter rumbled like distant thunder, but as it faded, his expression shifted into something far more serious.

"Aamir... King of Beasts," he said slowly, leaning forward. "We have a favor to ask of you."

Aamir paused mid-bite, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. "Hm? What is it?"

The king’s crimson gaze locked with his, unyielding and heavy with the weight of centuries. "We need you to help us defeat the werewolves in the upcoming tournament."

The entire dining hall went silent. Even the prince and princess, who had been glaring at Aamir moments ago, froze and turned toward their father.

Aamir set his fork down, his smirk fading into a calm, unreadable expression.

"So..." he said, his tone low and measured. "You want me to fight for you?"

The king nodded once, his sharp features unflinching. "Yes. I hate to admit it... but in some categories, the werewolves are stronger than us. And after the rebellion, our strength has been reduced—our finest warriors lost, our bloodlines weakened."

Aamir leaned back in his chair, arms folding casually as his crimson eyes studied the king. "Tch. So you want me to even the odds."

The Vampire King inclined his head. "Precisely. With your strength, there is no doubt we can reclaim our honor... and crush the werewolves before they grow arrogant enough to challenge us further."

Luman’s voice rang in Aamir’s head.

"Host, if you participate, this will be a perfect opportunity to test your power against higher-level combatants and observe their techniques."

Aamir smirked slightly. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."

He leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table, and stared straight at the Vampire King.

"Fine. I’ll fight for you," Aamir said, his tone calm but sharp as steel. "But let’s get one thing straight—don’t ever think about commanding me. I’m not your soldier."

The king blinked, then chuckled darkly, his fangs flashing for an instant. "Hah. I wouldn’t dare."

"Oh, and one more thing," Aamir added, his expression turning serious. "I won’t kill anyone unless I decide it’s necessary. That’s not negotiable."

The king gave a firm nod. "Understood. You have my word."

The prince looked like he was about to protest but stopped when his father shot him a single warning glance.

Satisfied, Aamir leaned back again, tearing another piece of meat from the bone with a calm, almost amused grin.

"Good. Then it’s settled."

The Vampire King smiled faintly, his gaze filled with a mixture of respect and curiosity. "You are indeed unlike anyone I’ve ever met, Aamir. Perhaps... you are exactly what this planet needs."

Aamir didn’t reply. He only smirked and muttered under his breath, "Guess I’ll find out soon enough."

Aamir leaned back in his chair, swirling the untouched glass of blood idly before setting it aside. His crimson eyes locked onto the Vampire King with quiet intensity.

"Well," Aamir said calmly, "I don’t think the werewolves are your only problem on this planet."

The Vampire King’s expression darkened, his sharp features hardening like carved stone. "You’re correct," he admitted with a slow nod. "The werewolves are merely... a surface issue."

He leaned forward, his voice low but heavy with the weight of centuries.

"Our greatest threat is far more dangerous—the Army of the Vampire God."

Aamir’s brows furrowed. "Vampire... god? Sounds ridiculous already. What the hell is that?"

The king let out a cold, humorless laugh.

"He is no god," the king said bitterly. "It’s nothing but a self-proclaimed title. Twenty-five years ago, my kingdom suffered a tragedy that split our people in half. My younger brother—once my most trusted ally—betrayed me. He denounced the royal bloodline and declared himself the ’Vampire God.’"

Aamir raised an eyebrow, his smirk faint but dangerous. "So, a family feud turned into a rebellion."

The king’s crimson eyes flickered with restrained fury. "Not just a rebellion. Half of my people followed him. He twisted their loyalty, feeding them lies, promising them a world without the royal line. They became zealots... soldiers of his so-called Vampire God’s Army. Now, they hide in the shadows, biding their time... and I fear they will strike during the tournament."

Aamir’s fingers drummed lightly against the table, his sharp gaze never leaving the king.

"So your own brother wants your throne... and you think he’ll use the tournament as his big entrance?"

The king nodded grimly. "It’s the perfect stage. Vampires from every clan will be present. If he strikes then... he won’t just challenge me—he’ll challenge our entire way of rule."

Aamir leaned forward slightly, his smirk curling into something sharper. "And you’re asking me to step into this mess?"

Before the king could respond, Luman’s voice echoed in Aamir’s head.

"Host... if this Vampire God is strong enough to split the royal bloodline, he may be powerful enough to give you a real fight. This could be... entertaining."

Aamir’s grin widened.

"Fine," he said at last, leaning back in his chair. "I’ll help you. But if your brother shows his face..." His crimson eyes glowed faintly, and his aura flared for just a second, sharp enough to make the prince and princess flinch. "He’s mine."

The Vampire King studied him for a long moment... then smiled—a sharp, dangerous smile that mirrored Aamir’s.

"Agreed. If anyone can crush him... it will be you, King of Beasts."

Aamir chuckled, reaching for another piece of meat from the table. "Good. Now that we’ve got that settled..." He glanced toward the blood-red windows of the dining hall. "I guess I’ll stick around long enough to see what kind of monsters this planet’s hiding."

The king nodded. "Stay, then. The tournament begins in three days. And if my brother dares to make a move... the throne room will run red with his blood."

Aamir smirked. "Heh. Can’t wait."

Aamir rose from his seat, his chair sliding back with a sharp scrape against the obsidian floor. Every vampire in the hall—guards, servants, even the royal family—fell silent.

He walked forward slowly, each step steady, unwavering, as if the weight of his presence alone silenced the entire palace. Stopping just a few feet from the throne, Aamir looked the Vampire King directly in the eyes.

Then, his voice cut through the air, calm but absolute:

"So let me introduce myself again."

He raised his chin slightly, his aura flaring just enough to remind every soul in the room of the predator standing before them.

"I’m Aamir... the King of Beasts."

The king’s eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in recognition of strength.

Aamir smirked.

"And I’ll help you."

The hall was silent, yet the words rang out like a royal decree.

The Vampire King slowly leaned back in his throne, his lips curling into the faintest smile.

"Very well, King of Beasts," he said, his deep voice resonating with a strange, amused respect.

"Then let this be the beginning of an alliance that will shake this world."

Aamir’s smirk widened.

"Count on it."

The chandeliers above flickered as if the palace itself had acknowledged the pact between two kings.