The Extra Wants Control

The following day, a red circle formed above the vampire continent.

" Congratulations on your efforts in the past year. Today you'll get rewarded." Said a regal voice that frightened most but they couldn't hide their excitement.

" Finally... I worked so hard."

" Me too."

" I know we can finally put this behind us."

" Yeah... And sorry I had to fight you to steal your tokens. No hard feelings."

" No hard feelings? You could have killed me!?"

" Heeeyyy, calm down...."

" Calm down? You are telling me to calm down? Why I ought to..."

" Silence... You lot are annoying." Someone yelled and seeing how they cowered the man was likely stronger than them.

These reactions were observed in many places, when the tokens suddenly disappeared people snapped out of their greed. Sure they felt ashamed of their actions but they justified them shamelessly.

What most people didn't know was how messed up the Vampire Continent's hierarchy had become...

After the tokens disappeared the circle did a mass blood quality change... Robbing the losing nobles and their families of their quality blood and it was implanted on the rightful winners.

Sure commoners won some but nobles won most and maintained their family and blood heritage without staining it.

Sure most were happy about their new found position as either barons, viscounts and counts.

There were hundreds of barons, tens of viscounts and only one legit count. The public didn't know of this yet but Verona knew... Only LeNoir was left as a legit count.

She had already found what was left of Mordred and Blanche was forcefully made to yield and submit. Currently the vampires had one legit Count, Count LeNoir.

From an outsider's perspective the vampires seemed weakened... But it wasn't like that at all there were plenty of strong people that didn't bother with the tournament, the likes of the Twilight clan.

So what if Mordred was killed with his whole family, Verona could make shadow soldiers. The vampires still were strong.

There was another issue, there was someone who qualified as a count but at the same time he didn't. The man had the necessary tokens, he even had surplus( thanks to Neveah sponsoring him) but he didn't have the strength to be acknowledged as a Count. This man was Kai.

So Verona reserved a seat for him. Since he was a count candidate chosen by Neveah, Verona made a plan to promote him once he gets at 10 star. But he also said that that spot could be challenged by the other viscounts who may reach ten star. The Count title was not forced on every ten star. If it was so LeNoir's wife would also be a Countess. The titles were claimed by those who wanted it.

There were people in the vampire continent who deserved these titles but they didn't want them because they thought it came with a lot of responsibilities, which it did.

And the excess noble blood which didn't find their suitable owners? Well they returned to the source, the progenitor, Verona herself. She had demoted countless nobles with their respective families. She destroyed unworthy bloodlines. But no one could complain, EVERYONE was given a fair chance. If a son didn't want to stay in the father's shadow he could have participated.

So for those who didn't participate and simply wanted to mooch off their parents' glory, well they were stripped of everything when their parents lost.

Verona then allocated territories and regions to each noble and gave a simple order. To develop. The development order meant they should develop everything not just towns or cities but even the people themselves. Verona wanted to raise the average strength of the common vampire as well as their living standards. She wanted quick and responsive measures in time of attacks.

They should be prepared for anything.

" Hey did you hear?"

" I hear a lot of things... So be specific."

" I heard that Kai from Westley City usurped his boss Theodore Cruise."

" What with how they collected tokens... Does that Mean Kai is a count?"

" I don't know... Unless someone announced his status we wouldn't know. It's not like they broadcasted it to us." Complained a man.

Commoners and losers weren't shown anything but the nobles both old and new saw their orders and allocation. They even got huge sums of gold as allowances.

With that the vampires tournament finally ended.

Meanwhile back at the Royal Castle Verona looked paler than usual... She had dark circles under her eyes and her hands seemed veiny with black lines all over it.

" It noticed... I need to hurry up." Thought Verona.

Meanwhile Neveah was focusing to break his seals and maybe comprehend something. He felt like something bad was coming and he didn't like it one bit.

*********

The smoke of cigarettes and smell of alcohol of the tavern stung Azrael's eyes and nose as he sat in the tarven, the place was stuffy and uncomfortably warm.

He was here because he had received information that a man who knows how the demons spawned in the human continent which he was interested to know.

Suddenly, a hand, cold and heavy, landed on his shoulder. Azrael turned around, his hand instinctively flying to the hilt of the dagger strapped to his thigh.

A man stood behind him, shrouded in the dim tavern light and in cloaks but he stank. He was tall and lean, his face obscured by the hood of his cloak.

"Remember me?" the man rasped, his voice deep and laced with an unnatural edge.

"How long has it been… four? Six years?"

The hairs on Azrael's neck prickled. The voice sent a wave of great anger through him, a voice he recognized from his nightmares, the voice that haunted his every waking moment.

It was the incubus, the demon responsible for the slaughter in his village. But something was wrong. This voice… it seemed to emanate from within the human man, was this man possessed?

Rage, a white-hot fury, surged through Azrael.

He saw the cruel amusement flickering in the man's eyes and smile, the same glint that had haunted him for years.

He lunged forward, the dagger flashing in the flickering light.

But then, Azrael hesitated. The man he faced wasn't the incubus.

This was a human, his eyes filled with confusion and a flicker of terror as he stared at the murderous glint in Azrael's own eyes. The incubus was possessing him, using him as a vessel.

"You said you would kill me, right?" the raspy voice continued, a sickening chuckle bubbling up from within the man as his smiled widened and he pulled his hood to reveal hollow black eyes are a sinister smile. "Looks like you've gotten stronger, well atleast stronger than your father, kekeke."

The words, a taunt aimed at his deceased parent, were the final spark. Azrael roared, the sound echoing through the tavern, silencing the drunken patrons. The air in the tavern grew thick with a tension that chocked out merry drunkards.

Azrael's roar had shattered the jovial din, his murderous intent hanging heavy in the smoke-filled air. Patrons froze mid-drink, their gazes darting between Azrael's fury and the stranger he menaced.

A collective unease and anger from the bolder ones settled but looking at Azrael's crazy face the people were hesitant.

"Kekeke... Your mother would be proud." The man said as Azrael's killing interent flared shaking the tarven's tables, walls, glasses.

The possessed man, surprisingly unfazed by Azrael's outburst, tilted his head back and let out a chilling laugh.

It started as a low chuckle, devoid of humor, and escalated into a cackle that scraped against Azrael's sanity. "So eager," the voice rasped shaking his head but the man still had a very wide smile.

The silence in the tavern became deafening. Every eye was glued to the spectacle – a human vessel overflowing with an inhuman presence.

The possessed man's hand, reached out towards Azrael whi slapped it away... "I'm coming soon, Azrael," the voice boomed. "You will have your chance for vengeance. Be prepared."

The possessed man's eyes, once filled with confusion, now glowed with an unnatural red light. A final, ear-splitting shriek ripped from his throat as his body convulsed. Then, with a sickening thud, the man went limp, the demonic presence gone and so was the man. He died.

Azrael stood there, frozen in rage. The veins on his face and neck bulged, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. He had faced the demon who he hated so deeply.

The silence in the tavern remained unbroken, shattered only by the clatter of a fallen mug. Patrons stared at the lifeless form on the floor unfazed and they slowly continued drinking.

Azrael was going to walk out but, with a deep, shuddering breath, Azrael released his pent-up anger.

He knelt beside the dead man, a flicker of sadness replacing the rage that had consumed him. This man, a pawn in a demon's game, deserved a semblance of peace. So he picked him up.

" I'm going to kill you Demon..." Azrael thought but he still didn't know where the demon will come from.