The True Successor

In the control room, after confirming all magical equipment was fully activated, Qiao suddenly walked over to Headmaster Danton.

In a low voice, he instructed, "Ensure the safety of every human guest—not a single one must die. As for the remaining rebels, spare none who can be eliminated. The family no longer needs them."

"Of course I understand," Danton replied immediately, pulling a lever.

A deep, rumbling noise echoed from the depths of the ancient castle. Through the magical projections, everyone saw the ritual chamber violently tremble, eliciting shocked expressions from the Vampire Clan.

Then, something miraculous happened. Luo Wei watched as the room transformed like a three-dimensional Rubik's Cube, its structure twisting and space inverting. The elder vampires panicked, taking flight instantly, while the human guests tumbled neatly toward the ceiling.

Yet, they never crashed against it. Instead, a shimmering magical glow enveloped them, and a suddenly activated teleportation gate whisked them away to another room dozens of meters away.

Danton chuckled. "Remember the teleportation gate at the foot of the mountain that brought you up here? The castle is full of them."

"With control over this place, I can manipulate most of the castle's rooms—and all its traps! Those vampires are as good as dead!"

As his words faded, Luo Wei saw the elder vampires, who had scattered in desperate search of the human guests, fall into dire straits. Many were ensnared by "teleportation traps," sent into rooms brimming with lethal dangers. Some chambers erupted with violent explosions of Magic Crystal Stones, obliterating them before they could even dissolve into mist. Others found themselves trapped as walls closed in from all sides, crushing them into bloody pulp with unstoppable force. And then there was the most absurd one—

Luo Wei saw several elder vampires cornered in a narrow passage. Suddenly, hidden mechanisms in the walls deployed rows of spinning barrels spewing blue flames. Under the hail of silver-glinting bullets, any vampire who dared expose themselves was instantly riddled with holes.

"Holy hell, a Gatling gun..." Luo Wei gaped in disbelief.

"That’s the army’s previous-generation hand-cranked rotary repeater, loaded with sanctified mithril bullets," Danton corrected, eyeing him curiously. "What’s a Gatling?"

"N-Nothing..." Luo Wei muttered, watching the vampires' agonized screams with a mix of awe and horror. He turned to Danton in reluctant admiration. "You’re truly the King of Torment."

Danton gazed proudly at his handiwork. "This, I believe, is why Victor never dared oppose the empire. The age of mysticism and the supernatural is long past. This is the era of Magical Industry—the era of humanity!"

"The times have changed," Luo Wei murmured in agreement.

As he observed the scenes unfolding before him, a thought struck him.

If all of this was a scheme orchestrated by the Duke in advance, then he could roughly guess the Duke’s intentions.

The family had reached a breaking point where destruction was necessary for rebirth. And the Duke, nearing the end of his long life, might have wanted to go out with a grand finale.

If he didn’t eliminate these threats for his successors, they would inevitably face the oppressive elders of the Vampire Clan. He sought to clear all obstacles for his heir.

The secret negotiations with the church delegation seemed more like a stalling tactic. The Duke had to choose the perfect moment to die—to ensure the elder vampires were wiped out in one fell swoop.

"Professor," Luo Wei asked hesitantly, "your father... is he really dead?"

Something about the Duke’s death felt off to him. If this was truly a setup, the mastermind would surely want to witness the chaos quelled, the resolution achieved, and the successor emerging victorious.

He shared his thoughts with Evelyn, who fell into a long silence before replying softly,

"He is most certainly dead." Of this, she was certain. "Every vampire can see it—there’s no chance of his return."

"The Duke is indeed dead," Qiao’s voice came from nearby. He didn’t turn around. "Which is why you younger generations must now shoulder the family’s responsibilities."

"Luo Wei..." Evelyn’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. "If what you say is true—if this was all my father’s scheme—then how do we account for today’s events? What will the guests, and the Emperor, think? The Abraham family has undeniably conspired with the church in rebellion. That’s an undeniable fact..."

"That..." Luo Wei thought of Ophelia’s father, the inscrutable and formidable ruler of the empire.

"That, I don’t know..."

But one thing was clear to him now—a new successor could be "chosen" today.

His gaze drifted subtly toward Monica, who stood in silence.

It seemed Qiao was privy to the Duke’s plans, and Qiao had been quietly protecting Monica all along.

A low-key, intelligent, pure-blooded young vampire with considerable talent.

So she was the Duke’s true chosen heir.

The realization left Luo Wei with a complicated feeling. After all, in the banquet hall today, it had been Evelyn who bravely stepped forward.

At the Abraham family’s most critical moment, she alone had unexpectedly taken charge, rallying the younger vampires and repeatedly risking her life...

He didn’t dislike Monica, but her sudden emergence now...

Felt like a stolen victory, leaving him with an undeniable sense of resentment.

...

Meanwhile, elsewhere.

Outside the castle, the torrent of magical assaults continued to batter the weakening barrier.

The massive azure magic circle flickered dimmer by the second, yet Meizi and the other elder vampires could do nothing against the formidable sorceress, left to seethe helplessly within the castle.

Tilis paid them no mind, still engaged in a magical communication with Ophelia back in the Royal Capital.

"So that’s how it is..."

As she listened, a pensive expression crossed her face.

"This was all a test to select the Abraham family’s successor?"

Tilis remained skeptical. "Ophelia... We still know nothing of what’s happening inside the castle. Isn’t it a stretch to deduce all this from just these clues?"

Ophelia stretched her long legs comfortably atop her desk, sipping the coffee Caroline handed her before replying lazily,

"I may not know the details inside, but one fact remains undeniable—today was always meant to be the day the successor is announced."

"You mean..." Tilis stared intently.

"Whether the Duke’s death was real or staged, whether he had an heir in mind—none of that matters. In the chaos of today, whichever direct descendant can quell the turmoil and turn the tide will rightfully claim the title of the family’s true successor!"

A calculating glint flashed in Ophelia’s eyes. "What do you think of Evelyn?"

"Evelyn?" Tilis hadn’t expected this. "You plan to push her onto the throne as the next Duke of Thorns?"

"Exactly." Ophelia smiled. "She's of direct lineage, isn't she? And her talents are exceptional. That teacher of hers, Luo Wei, might be a bit greedy and lazy, but otherwise, I think he’s decent enough."

"Most importantly," she suddenly added, "she’s one of us. With such a vast power vacuum in the North, it’s far better to keep it in our own hands."

"You’re really..." Tilis chuckled. "And you claim you have no rebellious intentions? You’ve even handpicked your supporters for after you take the throne."

"Wasn’t this your idea in the first place?" Ophelia shot her a glare. "Who was it that eagerly sought me out, ranting about dissatisfaction with the world’s current state, going on about ‘rulers’ and ‘creating a beautiful new world’ or some such nonsense?"

Tilis’s eyes instantly brightened. "So you’ve agreed?"

"Do I even have a choice?" Ophelia scoffed. "That woman is practically at our doorstep. Frankly, I doubt even you could defeat her as she is now."

"Tch." Tilis sneered. "That hypocritical, sanctimonious fool? There’s no way she could best me."

"That’s not for you to decide," Ophelia shook her head. "No one knows what she’s been up to all this time. Honestly, even I’m wary of her now."

"Let’s not dwell on her for now." Tilis suddenly sensed an unusual surge of magical energy deep within the castle and quickly changed the subject.

"You say you want to put Evelyn on the throne—but does she even know? Have you asked for her consent?"

A faint smirk curled Ophelia’s lips. "She won’t have a say in the matter."