A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 127: Please, Step Out Of The Way, Santino!

Chapter 127: Please, Step Out Of The Way, Santino!

Mr. Jean continued,

"However, it does not mean that she will be fine."

Draven’s expression immediately fell. "What do you mean by that?"

Mr. Jean stepped toward him. "Your Highness, have you perhaps ever heard of "La mort dans le Sommeil?"

"Huh? What...what do you mean by that?" Draven questioned.

"You see..." Mr. Jean proceeded to explain. "...Witches once used to kill with a means called La Mort dans le sommeil. It simply was the act of killing your enemy in their sleep."

Draven furiously blinked his eyes.

"What does that have to do with my wife?"

Mr. Jean smiled at him. "I believe you should already know, your highness. You are very smart after all."

"No, you are joking. That is not—"

"It is, Your Highness. That is the very case with your wife right now. I have dealt with such before, and sadly, my patient did pass away. I am not sure if that will be the same ending for your wife, but what I can tell you is that someone has done this to her, a witch definitely, because only they know this method."

"It’s a very brutal and heartless method. They use one’s fear to torture them in their dreams for seven nights. If the victim is not able to overcome that fear and succumbs to it, he or she will die on the seventh day," Mr. Jean explained.

"The torture they experience through the dreams is very severe, as it would leave them rolling about or almost going berserk. So I would suggest you hold onto your wife. It is very painful for even our kind, and I do not believe she will be able to endure it. However, at the end of the day, it is still up to your wife if she will live or not."

Draven was at a loss for words.

"Is there no way to stop it?"

"No." Mr. Jean shook his head. "You can only hope that your wife overcomes whatever fear she may have."

He smiled. "I shall take my leave now." Then he left the room to return home.

Draven’s eyes blinked uncontrollably, and Santino could see it slowly turning pitch black. He began to rapidly scratch his neck while muttering something to himself.

"Kill you! I will kill you! And then I will..." he was mumbling nonstop to himself, ignoring the fact that he had scratched his neck so badly that it had begun to bleed.

Santino, who was staring at him, broadened his pupils. This behavior! He knew it so well! It only ever occurred once with his highness, and when it did, he murdered the people nearest to him at that moment. This was his highness’s true anger!

Without hesitating any longer, Santino gripped his hand. "Young master, please calm down! Please don’t lose your temper. Calm down! You don’t want what happened before to repeat itself!"

He tried to pull his hand away from his neck, but Draven was not budging. He turned his head and glared at him with his pitch-black eyes, almost staring into Santino’s soul.

"Get out!" he ordered.

Santino shook his head. "No, I cannot do that, your highness. Please calm down! I plead with you."

"Leave, Santino. I am fine." Draven said to him,

But Santino was not convinced. He was worried for Lady Avelina as well.

Draven’s face scrunched in annoyance. "The more you are here, the worse you will make me feel. Go away! Please!" His voice sounded quite otherworldly, it sent chills coursing through Santino’s body.

Santino abruptly let go of Draven and began to exit the room. This was against his will, but he could not seem to control his body at that moment. Why? Was it Draven’s doing? But that was impossible. If he had such an ability, he would have known.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Draven rushed into the bathroom. He shut the door and locked it. He staggered to the sink and furiously began to splash his face with water, however, that did nothing to help.

The anger he felt within was not subsiding, and he felt as though he could lose his mind anytime soon.

To retain the control he had over himself, he vigorously began to punch the wall. This continued till his hands bled profusely and his pitch-black eyes gradually returned to their normal color.

Draven breathed heavily and dropped to his knees. He could not understand what was wrong with him. He could not comprehend why it felt as though someone else had taken over his body each time he lost his temper to this extent.

It had only happened once when he was a teenager, and he recalled killing the people around him. He didn’t mean to—it was not what he wanted, but he could not control himself.

He still felt guilty about it and deeply sorry for the people whose lives he had taken. Those people may have been the royal guards that his father had, to forcefully lock him up, but it was not what he wanted.

He never wanted to take their lives. He still hasn’t comprehended what occurred that night, which is why he always controlled himself. Anger was the only emotion apart from sadness, that he felt, yet he had no control over it.

The blood from his knuckles trickled onto the floor, and he took deep breaths to soothe himself.

Draven stood up to his feet and washed his hands in the sink, ignoring the pain he was feeling. He began to stare intently at the mirror.

"What do I do?" he murmured, deeply thinking. He vigorously tapped his finger on his forehead before abruptly stopping.

He left the bathroom and grabbed his coat. As he wore it, he exited the room to leave the mansion, however, Santino stepped in front of him, stopping him.

"What?" He glanced at him.

Santino took a deep breath before asking, "Where are you going, young master?"

"It has nothing to do with you. Please step out of the way, Santino." Draven was frowning.