The Tyrant's Pet

Everyone except Abel's people expected that those who morphed into vampires would eventually join the Emperor of Haimirich's royal knight brigade. But with Abel's twisted game, everyone realized that wasn't the case.

There was only one spot available. Just one.

Hence, every royal knight inside the chapel fought with all their might while Abel watched from the stair with his jaw propped against his knuckles. Since it was a fight amongst turned vampires, and they were originally elite royal knights of the crown prince, their baseline was equal.

"My... look at them." Abel chuckled, enjoying the royal rumble unfolding before his eyes. "So energetic and enthusiastic. I want to kill them one by one, but it was too troublesome."

Joaquin was lying flat on his back, panting for air. "I will kill you," he muttered in between his deep breaths, allowing his body to recover from all the injuries he had inflicted in the hands of his own father.

When Abel announced this survival game now occurring inside this chapel, the force that kept Joaquin on the ground was 'removed.' Thus, Joaquin was able to fight the emperor with all his might. The emperor didn't die pathetically, though. The old man was persistent and fought well to the end.

Perhaps that was the emperor's remaining conscious instinct. To die fighting instead of dying so pathetically in the hands of his own son.

Which led Joaquin to this situation of recovering while everyone was fighting for their life. He gazed at Abel's unguarded back.

"Hm. sure." Abel hummed lazily without casting Joaquin a look. "You can try to kill me. I won't stop you."

"Tch." Joaquin ground his teeth in irritation. "Are you saying that just because you know I won't be able to do it if you told me to?"

"Huh?" Abel glanced over his shoulder. "I'm giving you a fighting chance, that's all. It's boring when I force people."

"What?"

"I did nothing until now."

Joaquin looked at him in disbelief. Did nothing? Who was Abel deceiving here? Wasn't he controlling Joaquin until now? If not because of Abel, Joaquin would've wielded his sword instead of allowing himself to face such indignation.

Seeing the disbelief in Joaquin's eyes, Abel let out a shallow breath. "The thing is, you're a victim of misinformation." He peeled his eyes away from Joaquin to the mayhem ahead.

"Whoever instilled the idea that being a vampire is a blessing surely despises you. It was true that if a human turned into a vampire, they would naturally become stronger than an average human. And one common sacrifice you'll have to let go of isn't just your humanity, but your entire way of living," he continued. "It sounds enticing until you realize humans have more liberty than most of us."

"Humans... and their beguiling nature. Despite knowing their slim chance for survival, they never stop struggling. No matter how many times they fall, they would get right back up with those frail knees of theirs." Abel let out a short, dry laugh. "They're stubborn creatures... but it was admirable in a way."

"Our kind, on the other hand, was rather simple. The hierarchy." He played with his fingers leisurely, taking his precious time while there was literally a blood fight in front of him. "Our kind simply follows the hierarchy. Purebloods, nobles, lower nobles, half-bloods, Turned, and Failures."

He cocked his head back, his eyes falling on Joaquin. "Sure. Someone from the lower bracket can challenge those above them, but that will take you a decade or a century to muster such courage. Mind you, as you live longer, you grew wiser... and so were those people."

Abel smacked his lips, peeling his eyes away from him to the entertainment in front. His lips stretched into a smirk, seeing Roman taking down three men all on his own.

"The seventh prince is promising, isn't he? I'm starting to get a liking to him," he mused approvingly. "I planned to let him die that day, but you see, I sensed some sort of connection between the two of us. He is just as hopelessly in love as me. We're both romantic."

Abel grinned at Joaquin. "Don't you think?"

Joaquin let out a dry laugh at the shallow reasoning this man had. However, he didn't make a move as he mustered enough strength while waiting for his chance to strike.

"My, my. How boring." Abel yawned as his interest steadily dwindled.

"So, you're a pureblood?"

Abel's brows rose when Joaquin continued the conversation, casting him a nonchalant look. The side of his lips hooked up, followed by a shrug.

"You can say that," he answered, glancing at the decapitated emperor next to Joaquin. Abel didn't dwell on Joaquin as he averted his attention to Roman, since he was the only one who was truly giving him some sort of true entertainment.

The sound of metal, hisses, grunts, and loud thuds of bodies resonated inside the entire chapel. Everything was turned upside down with the current brawl, and the only safe place was the altar where Abel was idling.

This entire time, Joaquin kept his eyes on Abel. The latter was still reclining with his hands on the surface, eyes on the chaos ensuing.

Joaquin calmed down his breathing, his hand reaching for his pockets. He did it discreetly, watching Abel lest he noticed what he was doing.

'I'll kill him,' he told himself, eyes glinting with murderous intent. 'Once I strike him... I'll take back everything I had lost.'

Being cornered and having to face all that disgrace was something Joaquin never fathomed he would ever experience. Abel might be a 'pureblood' and Joaquin's chances of winning facing this man head-on were negative zero. But alas, now that Joaquin regained his freedom, his fear of this man slowly subsided.

All he needed to do was strike him, and while Abel was down, he would slaughter him until he was dead.

Sounds like a good plan. 

When Joaquin grabbed a hold of a dagger hidden inside his pocket, he carefully crawled up. But alas, just when he was approaching Abel stealthily, the latter suddenly spoke.

"I always give people some fighting chance..." Abel's tone was low and lazy, but he didn't move from his spot, leaving his back unguarded.

"Die!" Joaquin, who was aware he was busted, ground his teeth and thrust the dagger straight into Abel's neck. However, the tip of the blade stopped a centimeter away from his target's nape, just like how Joaquin froze... and everyone in this room.

"… because it's no fun if I didn't."

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