CHAPTER 176: THE VAMPIRE LORDS

Aamir lay sprawled on the massive bed, his arms folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. The crimson glow of the moonlight seeped in through the curtains, painting the room in shades of red and shadow.

He closed his eyes, trying to drift off, but after a few moments, they snapped open again.

"Hey, Luman," Aamir muttered lazily.

"Yes, host?"

Aamir turned his head toward the balcony as if he could see the Vampire King’s castle from there. "That king... he doesn’t look that old. I mean, he’s got two kids who look older than me. What’s his deal? What is he, like... fifty? Maybe sixty?"

Luman chuckled in his calm, unshakable tone.

"No, host. If I were to guess correctly, the Vampire King should be about one thousand years old... maybe older."

Aamir blinked, then sat up a little, frowning. "Wait. A thousand years?!"

"At least," Luman replied. "And those ’kids’ you saw... they’re not just older than you. They’re probably hundreds of years older. Vampires age differently. Their physical appearance doesn’t match their true age the way humans do."

Aamir stared at the ceiling for a long moment before letting out a laugh. "Wait, wait... so you’re saying those two brats who attacked me earlier... they’re basically ancient geezers compared to me?"

Luman’s tone was dry, almost amused.

"Yes... and no. To humans, they would be impossibly old. But for vampires? The king is still in his prime, and those children of his... are practically teenagers."

Aamir froze for a second. "...Teenagers. Hundreds of years old. You’re kidding me."

"I am not."

Aamir ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sharp laugh. "Damn. So when I flicked that girl on the forehead and sent her flying... I basically bullied a vampire high-schooler."

"Technically accurate," Luman replied smoothly. "Though I would not suggest saying that out loud."

Aamir smirked and laid back down again. "Nah. If anything, it makes it funnier."

Outside, the vampire city was silent, the blood-red glow of the sun barely lingering beyond the horizon. The Blood Moon was rising higher, its ominous hue casting long shadows across the dark towers.

Luman’s voice grew slightly more serious.

"Host, remember this: their ages also mean experience. Those two may seem playful and arrogant now, but do not underestimate them in combat. Vampires are predators born over centuries, not years."

Aamir cracked a grin. "Good. I’d hate for this tournament to be boring."

He turned on his side, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "A thousand-year-old king. Teenagers who are older than my entire bloodline. And an army of fanatics calling themselves the Vampire God’s army..."

He smirked wider. "This planet’s getting better by the minute."

Luman chuckled faintly in his head.

"You are disturbingly comfortable with this level of madness, host."

Aamir closed his eyes, his grin not fading for a second. "Nah. I just call it home."

And for the first time since arriving on the vampire planet, the King of Beasts allowed himself to drift into a deep, restless sleep—his mind already plotting how much fun he was going to have in the coming days.

Aamir stretched his arms and walked toward the window, the faint crimson glow of dawn spilling over the city. His sharp eyes scanned the streets below, and for the first time since arriving, he noticed something different.

The once-dark, quiet city was now alive.

Stalls lined the streets, draped with black and crimson banners embroidered with the sigil of the Vampire King. Merchants shouted out their wares, selling everything from enchanted bloodwine to weapons forged from blacksteel. Children with pale skin and glowing crimson eyes darted between the crowds, laughing as they played with wooden swords shaped like fangs and claws.

Aamir smirked faintly. "Huh. So, they’ve already started preparing..."

In his head, Luman’s voice stirred.

"Host, this is the effect of the Blood Moon Tournament. It’s not just a competition—it’s a festival for their entire race."

"Figures," Aamir muttered. "Nothing says ’bloody war’ like festive decorations."

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on his chamber door.

Aamir turned and walked over, pulling it open. Standing there was one of the royal guards, his posture stiff and formal, his armor gleaming faintly in the red light.

"Sir," the guard said, bowing slightly. "The king has commanded us to escort you to the castle."

Aamir rubbed the back of his neck lazily. "Already? Man, I literally just woke up."

The guard kept his head bowed. "The King awaits, my lord."

Aamir chuckled. "Fine, fine. But..." He gestured toward the bathroom. "First, I’m at least taking a shower. Even the ’King of Beasts’ isn’t walking into a royal meeting smelling like sleep."

The guard didn’t even flinch. "Understood. I will wait here until you are ready."

"Good man," Aamir said with a grin, closing the door.

After a quick shower, he stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying his hair. His reflection in the mirror showed his usual relaxed but sharp look—his crimson eyes gleaming faintly, his aura perfectly restrained.

"Host," Luman said in his head, "do remember that today you will be seeing more than just the king. The royal court will be present as well."

Aamir smirked. "Even better. The more audience, the bigger the show."

He dressed simply but neatly, his black coat trailing slightly behind him as he fastened the last clasp. Opening the door, he found the guard still standing there, unmoving like a statue.

"Alright," Aamir said casually. "Let’s go meet your king."

The guard bowed once more and turned sharply. "This way, my lord."

As they walked through the bustling streets, Aamir glanced around again. The vampires he passed whispered among themselves, some pointing at him, others shrinking back in fear.

"Host," Luman murmured, "your little display of power yesterday has already made you famous here. They fear you... and they respect you."

Aamir smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Good. That saves me the trouble of introductions."

Ahead, the towering black castle loomed like a shadow carved from the sky itself. And with the Blood Moon drawing nearer, Aamir could feel it—this planet was holding its breath for what was about to come.

The heavy doors of the grand hall opened, and Aamir stepped inside, followed closely by the royal guard.

This room was different from the throne hall. It was wider, rounder—built like a council chamber. At the center, on an elevated seat, sat King Zalmic. His imposing figure was as calm as ever, but when his crimson eyes spotted Aamir, he rose from his throne.

The entire room froze.

Nine other individuals sat around a crescent-shaped table, their presence sharp, regal, and predatory. Each of them was powerful, their auras restrained but suffocating for any ordinary being. They all stared in disbelief—because their king, the one who had never stood for anyone, was now standing for a stranger.

Whispers erupted like a sudden storm.

"Did the king just... stand up?"

"Who is this outsider?"

"No one has ever been welcomed like this..."

King Zalmic raised a single hand, silencing them instantly. His deep voice rumbled through the chamber.

"Welcome, King of Beasts. Please," he gestured toward the seat directly in front of him, "take your place."

Aamir smirked faintly and strolled forward, unbothered by the weight of their stares. He sat down with casual confidence, his crimson eyes sweeping across the room.

"These," Zalmic continued, his tone proud, "are the Vampire Lords of this planet. They are my most trusted council... and the pillars of our strength."

Aamir leaned back slightly, glancing at the nine vampires, each of them exuding an aura of authority.

"Oh, so these are the famous lords, huh?" Aamir said with a faint grin. "Not bad... but tell me—are they actually strong?"

The room fell silent.

One of the vampire lords, a woman with long silver hair and piercing black-crimson eyes, narrowed her gaze. She slammed a hand lightly on the table, her sharp nails clicking against the wood.

"Are you trying to disrespect us?" she hissed. "I am Clicy, Vampire Lord of the Eastern Dominion. We are here because we are strong."

Before Aamir could answer, King Zalmic chuckled deeply.

"Relax, Clicy. He isn’t mocking you. He’s simply... curious."

Aamir smirked. "Yeah, exactly. I mean, if I’m going to help you all, I’d rather know if I’m teaming up with people who can actually back me up."

Another vampire lord, a towering man named Gordan, slammed his fist on the table and stood abruptly. His sharp fangs glinted as he snarled.

"You insolent—!"

But before he could take another step, it happened.

A sudden wave of crushing pressure filled the chamber.

The air thickened, the floor creaked, and one by one, every Vampire Lord—including Gordan—felt their knees grow heavy. Their breaths came out ragged, and their hearts pounded as an invisible force pressed down on them like a mountain.

Even the marble pillars groaned faintly from the weight of Aamir’s unleashed aura.

Gordan was shoved back into his seat, his body trembling slightly.

Aamir stood slowly, his crimson eyes gleaming like a predator’s in the dark.

"Well..." he said casually, his voice cutting through the suffocating silence. "You’re not strong enough."

Gasps filled the chamber.

Aamir smirked, letting his aura fade as abruptly as it came. The room collectively exhaled in relief, some of the vampire lords wiping beads of blood-like sweat from their brows.

"Alright," Aamir continued with a sharp grin, "before I decide to help you, I’ll fight all of you. One by one."

The Vampire Lords looked stunned, while King Zalmic simply smiled faintly—as if he had expected this.

Aamir turned toward him. "King Zalmic, prepare a place where we can spar."

Zalmic rose from his throne with a deep, amused laugh. "Very well. I shall grant your request. Follow me... all of you."

The vampire lords exchanged looks—some angry, some intrigued, and a few... excited.

And Aamir? He simply shoved his hands into his pockets, smirking.

This was going to be fun.