Chapter 197 The Arrest

Chapter 197 The Arrest


The Vampire King was completely absorbed in coordinating his troops, issuing rapid, precise orders as his guards gradually closed in on their target.

The necromancer made one final attempt to escape their grasp.

This time, he had no chance.

Kysten appeared at his flank.

Saphir blocked his retreat.

Matthew materialized behind him.

Erik closed the trap.

And, at the center of all the chaos, Asmodeus smiled.

The sorcerer had just realized that he had nowhere left to run.

"Are you all right?" Prince Benjamin asked the young woman.

"Perfect," she replied, straightening with the help of her father, who pulled her from Kiyan's arms.

Then she groaned when she saw the extent of the damage.

"Hell and damnation! My dress is ruined!"

The remark made Kysten snicker.

Saphir, tired of seeing the necromancer still struggling despite the trap steadily tightening around him, finally lost patience.

The man was cornered, surrounded on all sides, yet he continued to fight with desperate energy, hurling spells blindly and searching for the slightest opening.

Saphir sighed.

Then, with an almost insulting calmness, he removed his jacket and shirt in one smooth motion.

He let them fall to the floor, revealing his bare chest as his aura suddenly changed.

Blanche barely had time to understand what was happening.

Something appeared behind him.

His enormous Drakion wings unfurled in a spectacular movement.

They were gigantic.

Far more imposing than any Blanche had ever seen before, their membranes catching the light as their magical power suddenly filled the room. A unique ability, belonging solely to Saphir, that no other Drakion possessed in this form.

The conversations stopped.

Even some of the fighters froze for a brief moment.

Saphir folded his wings slightly.

Then he spread them wide in a single powerful motion.

The resulting gust was monstrous.

Tablecloths, curtains, and loose clothing were sent flying in every direction. Several guests had to grab onto tables to keep from falling.

The necromancer had no chance.

"What the—"

A second later, he was literally lifted off the ground.

Saphir had sent him flying straight toward Erik.

The half-mage barely had time to raise his blade.

The man impaled himself on it.

The satisfaction on Erik's face was unmistakable. He savored the sight, blood pouring from the punctured lung. This time, he had the presence of mind to gag him with his hand.

The necromancer tried to bite him.

And Erik deliberately twisted the blade still lodged inside the dark sorcerer's body.

The gagged man let out a half-muffled scream.

"Try that again," Erik growled.

The suicidal necromancer obeyed and immediately tried to get back up and bite him again.

"Fuck!" Erik roared as Matthew took over.

Argy, who had understood the problem perfectly, removed his tie.

"Here!"

He tossed it to Erik.

The half-mage caught it in midair.

Taking advantage of Matthew pinning the man to the floor after pulling Erik's sword free, he immediately wrapped the tie around the necromancer's mouth, gagging him securely as he screamed in pain.

The necromancer tried to protest.

Only a muffled sound escaped him.

Erik tightened the knot.

"There."

He finally straightened as the guards approached.

Argy looked at his tie, then at Erik.

"Are you giving that back to me?"

Erik gave him an incredulous look.

"You really want that back?"

Argy hesitated.

"...No. I suppose not."

Saphir, still shirtless in the middle of the room, slowly folded his wings behind him.

He retrieved his jacket and shirt with a calmness that was completely inappropriate given the chaos around them.

"Problem solved."

Blanche stared at the gagged necromancer, then at Saphir, then at Argy.

She sighed.

With them, even an arrest could turn into a spectacle.

Matthew and the vampire guards seized the intruder and dragged him away from the guests, toward somewhere dark and damp.

Well...

At least, that was what Blanche hoped.

Sebastian retrieved the untouched glass, still in the dark mage's hand, which she had somehow managed not to drop despite everything.

He sniffed it and discovered, to his horror, a mixture of dead man's blood, belladonna, and sulfur.

His concern immediately shifted to the young woman.

The poison was deadly to vampires—and even more so to Drakions.

Even with all the healing magic in the world, she should logically have been six feet underground.

Just like him, had she not intervened.

And yet, the only thing that seemed to concern her...

Was the state of her dress.

The King snorted, leaving the guests wondering whether he was about to end the evening, which had barely even begun.

Their host had apparently lost his mind.

He had never "snorted" before.

"You have saved my life, young lady," he declared emphatically, his voice echoing through the room now that the orchestra had fallen silent. "From this day forward, you shall forever be my guest of honor. I am forever in your debt."

To emphasize his words, the King bowed respectfully, and every vampire present did the same.

First her grandfather...

Now Sebastian.

Blanche wondered if she was dreaming.

Perhaps she was still warm and comfortable in her bed, back in the Otherworld.

That seemed almost more likely.

Saphir, deciding that the shirt was enough, placed his jacket over Blanche's shoulders. With the impressive number of pearls scattered across the floor, her dress was revealing far too much skin for his liking—acceptable in private, but certainly not in public.

She thanked him with a smile as the vampires slowly rose to their feet.

"Benjamin, Kysten, escort the Princess to my apartments. Find her something to change into."

Not fooled for a second, his adopted son immediately understood that he had been given tacit permission to rummage through his secret wardrobe.

Every man in Blanche's life who was present that evening made sure she was all right before allowing her to leave.

In a single week, she had made more friends than she had throughout her entire existence.

Friends she now considered family.

Eva, meanwhile, had been unable to move throughout the whole ordeal.

She had been nothing more than an observer, watching her friend shine brighter than ever, jealous of all the attention she was receiving.

She wished she could keep Blanche all to herself.

The three young people immediately took the service elevator—the one used to prepare the banquet hall—to reach the reception area and take the King's private elevator.

Fortunately, Blanche found Ash there, busy performing maintenance through the elevator's camera system.

"Blanche! Are you all right?" the Pixie's voice crackled through the speaker.

The little creature had followed the entire scene from the reception hall through his station.

Unable to intervene, he too had been forced to watch helplessly.

"Don't worry," the young woman reassured him, hearing from his voice just how frightened he had been for her.

Under these circumstances—and with the fact that she wasn't alone—it was difficult to remind him that she was just as immortal as he was.

That day, Asher cursed himself more than ever.

They eventually reached their destination.

Blanche burst out laughing when the game's system announced that ingesting the poison had earned her a skill level...

Before she helped herself to a drink in the King's office.