Chapter 1981 Like Her
Chapter 1981 Like Her
While Adam and Luca continued their journey back toward Adventurers' City, all the way on the other side of the mountains, Genevieve found herself in an entirely different environment.
She had expected a prison cell. Perhaps a dark, damp dungeon buried deep beneath the castle. Or worse, she had feared being treated as nothing more than cattle, kept alive only so that the vampires could drain her blood whenever they desired.
But none of that happened.
Instead, when Genevieve awoke, she found herself lying upon a lavish bed in an opulent room decorated in a distinctly gothic style.
Dark wooden furniture, intricate carvings, heavy curtains, and elegant chandeliers filled the spacious chamber. Everything was immaculate, almost unnervingly so. There were no chains around her wrists or ankles. No bars. No guards standing over her.
Other than the unassuming bracelets around her wrists — artifacts that prevented her from circulating mana — she was not restrained in any way.
Food had been placed on a nearby table, along with fresh water and a selection of fruits. For all intents and purposes, she was being treated like a distinguished guest rather than a prisoner.
And somehow, that frightened her even more.
What exactly does the vampire king want from me? she thought in alarm.
Genevieve sat quietly on the edge of the bed, her cerulean eyes sweeping across the room. At some point, she had changed into a white gown, and she didn't know how to feel about that.
The silence was oppressive.
There was something deeply unsettling about being treated so well by creatures she had believed were monsters that preyed on humans.
If they wanted to kill me, they would have done so already.
She remembered the battle.
The vampires.
Adam…
Her heart tightened at the thought of him.
She remembered the moment she had recognized his face after believing she would never see him again. She remembered the warmth of his arms as he carried her, and the familiar voice that had whispered those simple words.
Long time no see.
Genevieve lowered her gaze, her eyes involuntarily tearing up.
She had no idea what had happened to Adam after they were suddenly attacked. The fact that she was here didn't bode well for him.
Had he survived?
Had Luca survived?
And what about sweet Valerian?
Her heart was gripped by an intense feeling of foreboding.
Then her gaze drifted toward the enormous windows. Beyond the glass stood the ancient castle grounds, shrouded in the pale light of the crimson moon. The castle itself seemed almost unreal, perched upon its hill like something straight out of a fairy tale.
It was beautiful. It was majestic.
And it was utterly terrifying.
Genevieve slowly clenched her hands.
They aren't treating me like a prisoner, she thought with narrowed eyes.
A guest? Definitely not!
A bargaining chip?
I don't know…
Whatever the answer was, she knew one thing. The fact that the vampire king had gone to such lengths to keep her alive meant that her existence was somehow important to him.
Then she suddenly recalled the vague conversation she had overheard from the ghouls during her first kidnapping attempt.
Something about a ritual, she thought.
A celebration… and something about the vampire king's desire…
Genevieve's heart sank.
If they were treating her like royalty, she couldn't help but fear that she would somehow be instrumental to whatever this ritual was. Whatever this celebration entailed. Whatever desire the vampire king had that required her presence.
Not for a moment did she believe herself to be safe. If anything, the lavish room and courteous treatment only made her more uneasy.
What do they want from me?
The question lingered in her mind as her unease continued to grow.
And then suddenly…
Click!
The doors to her room opened.
Genevieve froze. There had been no footsteps. No rustling of clothes. No warning whatsoever. The doors just suddenly opened.
She shot to her feet and drew away from the doors, her heart pounding violently against her chest. Then she looked toward the doorway, and her eyes widened in horror.
A man stood there.
At first glance, he appeared almost human.
Almost…
His presence alone was enough to make the air in the room feel heavier. A vast, oppressive aura radiated from his body, so powerful that Genevieve instinctively felt her muscles tense. Her instincts screamed at her to flee, yet her body refused to move. She was completely paralyzed.
He was tall and imposing, dressed in an immaculate crimson doublet beneath a long, dark coat that fell almost to his knees. Ornamental pauldrons rested upon his shoulders, while a dark cloak hung from his back, its edges brushing against the floor.
His face was pale. No, not merely fair, but the unnatural pallor of someone who had not known warmth or sunlight for countless years. His hair was receding slightly, revealing sharp contours of his forehead, while his features remained remarkably refined.
There was something aristocratic about him, something that suggested centuries of nobility rather than savagery.
But it was his eyes that terrified Genevieve the most.
They were crimson. Deep, predatory crimson.
They seemed to possess an almost unnatural intensity, as though the gaze of an ancient beast were hidden behind the face of a refined gentleman.
Genevieve's breathing became shallow. She had never seen him before. Yet somehow, she knew exactly who he was.
The aura. The overwhelming presence. The impossible sense of danger.
There was only one person who could possibly possess such terrifying majesty.
The Usurper.
The Vampire King.
Jacob de Vile.
And despite everything she had heard about him, what frightened Genevieve most was not the murderous monster described in the stories.
It was the fact that the man standing before her looked almost… gentle.
His expression was calm. His posture was relaxed. And there was even a faint warmth in his crimson eyes as he looked at her.
As though she were not a prisoner.
As though she were someone he had been waiting a very long time to meet.
Under Genevieve's horrified gaze, Jacob de Vile walked straight up to her. Then, with surprising gentleness, he brushed his cold fingers across her cheek.
"I didn't believe it at first," he said to the frozen Genevieve. "But now that you are here in the flesh, you truly do look somewhat like her."
Jacob de Vile smiled gently, almost lovingly.
"But no matter," he said as he stroked Genevieve's auburn hair.
"Once the ritual is over, you will become her."
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