MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 1069: Vampire Domain

Far across thousands of kilometers from Anthony's location, within the Vampire Domain, vampires moved through their daily routines, many sporting red hair or crimson eyes, some featuring both, fangs protruding from their mouths, pale skin shining as they glided under the sun with a spectral grace that distinguished them from common mortals.

Buried kilometers deep in the Vampire Domain stood the Blood Castle, residence of the Domain's ruling family—the Blood Queen and her son, Drake Bloodmoon—a towering emblem of supremacy, might, and unchallenged rule over every inhabitant.

Right then, Drake Bloodmoon sat cross-legged, partially submerged in a pool of violet blood glowing with fierce purple radiance, eyes shut as he concentrated deeply on his pursuit, breaths steady and precise, every instant under strict control. Moments later, the purple glow faded, restoring the training chamber to its shadowy hush, the heavy atmosphere dissolving into calm.

He stood up without delay, entirely nude, his body sculpted to flawless perfection, skin smooth and pallid, blood rippling lightly as he emerged from the tub-shaped pool. The violet blood adhering to his flesh rose and flowed back to the basin, acting with its own sentience, yielding to him effortlessly.

In the next moment, a butler materialized at his side, presenting his attire, which he donned wordlessly, movements poised, elegant, and routine. They exited together, proceeding to his chambers, footsteps softly reverberating along the castle's majestic corridors.

Once inside his room, Drake positioned himself by the window and asked, "What is Tiara doing now?"

The butler answered promptly in a deferential voice, "Lady Tiara isn’t within the Vampire Domain; she left earlier for an urgent matter," he reported, stance rigid and composed.

Drake fell quiet briefly, ‘How long must I keep up this act with that idiot girl?’ he mused inwardly, his mind on Tiara. ‘I’ve got far better pursuits, damn it—five years, five whole years, and she never spared me a look. What’s her heart forged from, rock?’ he pondered again, face utterly impassive, concealing the seething annoyance within.

‘I ought to just rape her and finish this farce. How did her peasant parents sire a Royal Grade Bloodline? That’s the Domain’s deepest riddle,’ he sighed, shaking his head, opting to dismiss her temporarily. Her present actions bore no relevance to him—or so he assured himself.

"Ready the next round of gifts I’ll send her this year," Drake commanded, his scarlet eyes fixed on the window, surveying the Vampire Domain from his lofty perch, voice even but tinged with vexation.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door; Drake ignored it, so the butler approached to check. Soon after, he returned and announced, "Master, the Blood Queen demands your presence."

Drake shifted his gaze from the panorama and turned toward his mother’s throne room. In short order, he stood before her, expression serene, inquiring, "Why have you called, Mother?"

Elara eyed her son momentarily, then sighed, "How’s your progress with Tiara? Any developments? Even the slightest update counts as advancement," she inquired, following her routine check every six months on her son and Tiara.

"It’s the same as always, Mother, and I’ve told you, I should just rape her and be done with it," Drake replied impatiently, exhausted by the coerced overtures and pointless endeavors.

"And I’ve told you we can’t do that, for reasons you already know," Elara countered resolutely.

"Then we make her sign a mana contract and be done with it," Drake retorted, his tolerance wearing thin.

Elara sighed anew, "You’re simply too naive, Drake," she said, shaking her head as if the explanation was too obvious to repeat.

"But that isn’t the reason I called you here. I’m sure you know Tiara isn’t in the Vampire Domain; at this moment, she is with Null Anthony, who is her former classmate, and I want you to go there and meet him," Elara declared with a neutral face, her words imbued with understated command.

"The Null Anthony? That one who can resurrect people and hit Planetary level by age nineteen?" Drake inquired, a trace of intrigue creeping into his tone.

"Yes, that very Null Anthony. Latest reports claim he can now grant blessings to others, letting them shatter through numerous mana ranks and levels with zero backlash or side effects," Elara explained, having witnessed the viral accounts of Anthony's blessings. Hard to believe, but Elara recognized the galaxy's boundless expanse teemed with infinite mysteries.

Drake required no further clarification from his mother; he grasped her desire for him to build ties and secure that blessing. ’I never realized Tiara even knew him,’ he pondered silently, a spark of curiosity emerging.

"Don’t let me down. Tiara might already have gotten her blessing by now, and she's currently alongside Anthony, the Dragon Crowned Prince, and the Titan Crowned Prince, so watch your tongue—especially near Anthony," Elara warned again, her stare piercing.

"I understand," Drake replied, his thoughts swirling with schemes and prospects.

"You may go," Elara said curtly, her mind already racing through endless strategies and outcomes.

Drake pivoted to depart, but right before his foot could move, he froze in place. His chest constricted sharply; his hand shot to it, gripping fiercely, perplexed by his heart rate's sudden plunge.

Elara eyed her son, baffled by his abrupt halt, yet before words could escape her lips, Drake crumpled to his knees and slammed face-forward onto the ground... lifeless.

Elara's form flickered ahead, snatching her son into her arms; she shouted his name while shaking him softly, as if coaxing him from slumber, though she knew full well Drake was gone. The bloodline link binding them had ruptured—a unmistakable, undeniable severance.

"WHO DARES KILL MY SON!!!!" she bellowed at maximum volume as a crimson aura burst from her in a destructive torrent of power and frenzy, rattling the Vampire Domain to its deepest foundations, her anguish and rage blending into horror beyond comprehension.