Chapter 3040: Blood‑Stained Addiction 16

In the white bone prison, Jin Chen leaned against the bone-pile wall, his white robe loosely wrapped around his body; the old book in his hand had slipped from his fingers at some point, lying askew on his knees.

Ling Gun Gun, having sensed his divine awareness, flew over and perched on Jin Chen's shoulder, tilted its head to look at him for a while, then poked his cheek with its tiny claw.

【Host, do you want to see what's happening now? Seven counts are about to meet, and the protagonist is there too.】

Jin Chen's eyelid twitched. "No."

Ling Gun Gun jumped down from his shoulder and bounced twice in front of Jin Chen. 【You don't want to see what those counts will do to Aosiding? Don't be passive in the mission!】

"No." Jin Chen shifted his posture, turned his head, and buried his face in his silver hair.

Ling Gun Gun took a deep breath.

The kitten crouched, placed its two front paws together, and lifted its head.

【Great and handsome host,】 Ling Gun Gun's voice drew out, exaggerated flattery, 【Just take a look—you don't want to know what scheme the protagonist is hatching, do you? You don't want to know whether Count Saiyin will be attracted to him, do you? What if the plot collapses again?】

【Moreover! You don't want to see what Count Saiyin is like in front of others? He's fierce and domineering in front of you, but not necessarily so before others…】

Jin Chen finally opened his eyes, looking at the glowing kitten bouncing happily before him, and flicked its forehead with a finger.

"Just a glance." Jin Chen said.

Ling Gun Gun didn't have time to mind the sore spot from the flick, hurriedly scrambled up from the bone pile, and waved its tiny claw in the air.

A water mirror formed.

Saiyin leaned back in an ornate high-backed chair, his deep purple robe shimmering in the candlelight, one hand casually propping his chin, his blood-red eyes half-closed as he listened to Elena and Yuege from the lower left seats discuss the Blood Moon Sacrifice.

Aosiding bowed slightly, entered from the side door, stopped at a proper distance before the long table, dropped to one knee, and lowered his head deeply.

"Your humble servant Aosiding greets the honorable Count Strandle and all the esteemed counts."

The six counts' gazes fell on Aosiding, carrying a playful scrutiny.

Feierwen idly turned the wine cup on the table with his finger, his gaze lingering on Aosiding for a moment, "Saiyin, this Holy Knight has been staying in the castle for some days—why hasn't he been enjoyed yet?"

Yilaina also laughed, "Yeah, Saiyin, or rather… what special quality does this Holy Knight have that makes you reluctant to partake? If that's truly the case, why not give him to me?"

Saiyin lifted his eyes, his usual arrogance on display, not even glancing at Aosiding kneeling on the ground, "Since you're all interested…"

He paused, his blood-red eyes slowly turning toward Aosiding, filled with unfathomable indifference.

"I permit you to share this Holy Knight's blood."

Sharing a blood servant, especially one the master values, is not forbidden in vampire custom, but it usually carries strong humiliation and punishment, also signifying the master's complete abandonment of that blood servant.

Aosiding's body trembled, incredulously lifting his head to look at Saiyin—was he to be treated like the lowest livestock, drained in turn by these lofty vampires? No! He could not be treated this way!

"Count!"

Aosiding hastily switched from one knee to both, his voice trembling with pleading, "Please! I'm still useful to you—I can do many things! Whatever Jin Chen can do, I can too! Please don't abandon me… please!"

He spoke incoherently, fear and shame draining his face to pallor; that name he loathed beyond measure had now become the lifeline he desperately grasped.

Yuege, the most aloof and elegant count, reminiscent of a gentleman, also had his interest piqued, his voice as cold as moonlight: "Holy Knights are rare, Saiyin so generous—we won't stand on ceremony."

And the most stern Malaji, his withered hand already raised in the air, his deep-green eyes locked on Aosiding, his fingers making a grasping motion in empty space.

Aosiding's body flew uncontrollably off the ground, hurtling straight toward Malaji, his face flushed from suffocation, his eyes filled with despair, "No……"

Malaji's rough fingers clamped his throat, he lowered his head to gaze at Aosiding before him, revealing two fangs longer and sharper than those of ordinary vampires, aimed at the pulsing blood vessel on Aosiding's neck—just as he was about to bite, Aosiding's chest suddenly burst forth a intense silver-white light.

The light was not the usual warm radiance of the Holy Court, but carried an ancient, icy, supreme pressure; an extremely intricate defensive formation instantly unfurled, enveloping Aosiding entirely.

Malaji was forced to release his grip, slammed hard backward, his deep-green pupils filled with terror.

Aosiding collapsed to the ground, coughing violently, still shaken, covering his chest where the glowing ring lay, also incredulous.

This ring was a life-saving gift bestowed by the Holy Court Archbishop, said to contain a drop of blood from an ancient, powerful being; as long as the Archbishop's formation remains unbroken, the ring will never be detected, but he never imagined its activation would unleash such… terrifying pressure.

In the hall, several counts' faces showed bewilderment, while Saiyin on the main seat sat upright, his eyes locked on the fallen Aosiding—the force that had attracted him at that banquet was this very power, but now even stronger, rivaling a prince's pressure.

However, the only remaining second-generation pure-blood prince is the almost never‑seen Jiaxia.

Malaji's both hands were burned, he clenched his fists, sharing the same speculation: "Is this… a prince's pressure?"

"Impossible!" Yilaina exclaimed, her lovely face full of astonishment, "All second‑generation princes have long perished, only Jiaxia remains, but he… is not like this."

"Could it be… that a fallen prince once mingled with humanity, leaving a bloodline passed down through generations, finally arriving in this Holy Knight?" Laiste cupped his face in his hands, curious to join the discussion.

"That makes no logical sense." Feierwen said, "The second‑generation prosperity was over six hundred years ago, when human lifespans were only a century; even if offspring inherited the line, it's impossible to retain such pure‑blood magical protection."

The silent Count Nuoya, whose true face never shows, only a wisp of mist holding up his black robe, his hoarse, low voice drifting from beneath his hood, clear‑toned nonetheless: "The power comes from the formation, not from him."

Yuege gently swayed the water cup in his hand, his voice ethereal as it drifted: "Such pure‑blood second‑generation prince's power… Saiyin, perhaps it could ease the pain you suffer during each Blood Moon Festival."

As these words were spoken, the counts' expressions varied, their thoughts racing.