"Loyalty can sometimes be such a funny thing. Some stay loyal even after leaving their bodies behind, while others are only loyal when eyes meet. Some say you can't buy it, and some sell it on the streets. Some argue there is no loyalty, only fear, while others believe it's respect. But to me, it's something else entirely..."
He bowed low, despite being asked not to. His body trembled, frozen in reverence. Someone from the Ampher family—here, in front of him.
"I can't believe I get to serve under someone from the Ampher family," he said, voice quivering. "The name I've heard my whole life…"
"Stand up. I won't repeat myself," Arvard ordered sternly.
The man obeyed immediately. Standing beside him was Saina, grinning mischievously as she clicked a photo of the moment, clearly enjoying the scene more than she should.
Arvard turned his attention back to the man. "Why did Biltus tell you about my return?"
The chairman, still stiff with awe, replied, "Grandfather didn't have a choice. He spends most of his days asleep now. In his condition, it's impossible to help you directly."
"Understood," Arvard said, walking over to the couch in his suite and sitting down. "Come, sit. I want to ask you a few questions."
The man nodded and sat on the opposite couch. Saina slid in beside Arvard, entwining her arm around his. Arvard tried to lean away, but she clung to him stubbornly.
"What's your name?" Arvard asked, eyeing Saina with clear irritation.
"John Koneal, Your Grace," the chairman replied.
Arvard gave a small nod. "Did your grandfather tell you everything?"
"Only what was necessary to assist you. Nothing about the past events," John admitted, then nervously glanced at Arvard's eyes. The moment their eyes met, he looked away. "Pardon me."
"No need for formality. I don't like it," Arvard said, waving off the apology. "Do you know about Eleena?"
"Yes, my lord," John replied instantly.
Arvard leaned back. "What do people believe happened back then?"
Saina chimed in before John could respond. "When I woke up fifty years ago, I was shocked. The current generation has no idea what happened. They think the king just got bored and went to sleep."
Her expression turned sour, and she abruptly got up and stormed out of the room.
Arvard sighed and gently placed a finger on her lips before she left, silencing her. He turned back to John. "What does she actually know?"
"She knows nothing from our side. And from the way she speaks, I don't think she's aware of Madam's identity either."
"Very good," Arvard said with a small approving smile, then turned serious again. "What do you know about the Silver Warriors? Where are they now?"
"They can't operate freely in this era, so they've joined forces with groups like the Red Priests and Monster Hunters. Large-scale operations are impossible to cover up now, so they resort to terrorist methods. They once crashed a plane owned by a vampire-run company, killing hundreds. A terrorist group later claimed responsibility."
Arvard remained silent, face unreadable.
John continued. "We retaliated by bombing one of their known facilities. We later learned their current leader was there. He survived, but was left paralyzed for life. Since then, they've gone quiet."
"I've heard rumors of vampires disappearing," Arvard said.
"We've heard the same. But there's no solid proof the Silver Warriors were behind it. If they were, the question is—why abduct instead of kill? We suspect experimentation. Eventually, the topic was buried."
"Who is 'we'?" Arvard asked sharply.
John hesitated before chuckling nervously. "The Council—the ten families."
"Name them," Arvard said, standing.
As he began pacing, John listed: "Koneal, Yannier, Polenk, Treffin, Madcure, Woodel, Lankual, Poreak, Deiheart, Selpher, and Lonstek."
"And the rest of the families?"
"These are the only ones left, my lord."
Arvard stopped in his tracks. "What?"
"The King restricted long slumbers. Over time, the others faded out."
Arvard approached and placed a firm hand on John's shoulder. "What is our current population?"
"Between 4,000 to 5,000," John replied in a hushed, ashamed tone.
Arvard pressed his fingers to his temple. "What the hell have you bloodsuckers been doing all this time?"
"Life today is hard. People don't have time for the old ways. Most prefer only one child now. Everyone takes things slow…"
"Incredible," Arvard muttered. "And the treasury?"
"Still intact. In fact… it's great."
"Well, at least that's something," Arvard said with a sigh. "So, what's your plan to fix this population issue?"
John answered reluctantly, "The only viable path is financial support. But most families oppose handouts. We've already heavily subsidized education and employment."
Just then, John felt a tingling sensation on the family crest embedded in his body. Every noble bore one—a mystical seal tying them to the king. But Arvard had long ago claimed the Koneal crest, binding John's family to him.
"Don't say that again," Arvard said with quiet fury. "We left everything to your family, and now you tell me we've lost control? Convince them. Tomorrow's meeting—make them agree."
John bowed his head. "Forgive me, my lord. I will summon the families immediately."
Arvard's tone softened. "John, look—I don't want to dive into family politics just yet. The problems are endless. But I trust your family. That's why I asked for your crest."
"I understand. I will consult my grandfather. Together, we'll solve this."
"Good," Arvard said, rising from his seat. "I need someone I can trust. Someone active."
"For the school… or outside?"
"Outside," Arvard replied without hesitation.