A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 317: Duel..?

Chapter 317: Duel..?

A few seconds of silence passed before the door was opened. Avelina peeked her head out, instantly meeting Valentine’s gaze. She fluttered her eyes, walking out from behind the door, a bit confused about his panicked countenance.

"Valentine? Is there a pro—"

"Can you reach Draven?" Valentine asked.

Avelina drew her head back. "Draven? Why? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something is really wrong. I need you to call his phone right now. This is important, please!" Valentine warned, his breathing quickened.

Although Avelina could not tell what the issue was, she nodded, walking toward the table to get her phone. She returned, and standing beside Valentine, she dialed Draven’s number.

It rang, but no one answered. They tried more than twenty times, but no one still answered.

"Shit! Shit!" Valentine cursed.

Avelina was worried. "Valentine, what is going on?"

Valentine, as quickly as he could, told her everything. He could see Avelina’s body stiffen in panic, but surprisingly, she immediately composed herself, aware that panicking at that moment would not solve anything at all.

"Allow me to come with you," she said to Valentine, determined to find Draven with him.

But Valentine shook his head at her. "No, stay back here and keep trying to reach his number. If you are able to, please let him know about this immediately."

"I will try to find him myself, okay?"

Avelina shook her head at him. "But how can I—"

"Please, sister-in-law. Just stay here with his butler. You can’t come with me," Valentine pleaded with her. He turned around and left before she could implore any further.

He hurried out of the royal mansion and exited the gate. His initial intention was to drive to his destination, but knowing that flying would be much faster, he unfurled his wing, tearing the back of his shirt.

"That hurts!" It’d been months since he last used his wings, thus the pain.

With a heavy flap of his wings, he pushed himself up into midair with the momentum and flew off, heading in his intended direction.

In less than twenty minutes, he arrived at his stop and landed on his feet. He retracted his wings and began to approach the house, which belonged to Olive.

Olive was usually around on Wednesdays; he’d told him this before, so it was the only option he had left. If anyone knew where Draven was, it had to be Olive or any of his other comrades. But he didn’t know them as much as he knew Olive, thus Olive was his only option.

Valentine stood in front of the door and knocked. He waited and waited, but no one came to open the door, despite his constant knocking. This caused him to frown. Was Olive not around?

He looked around, his patience running out. The sky was already becoming dark, which was causing the gas lamps to turn on by themselves.

"Olive!" Valentine banged his hand on the door, but still no response came.

Fed up, he grabbed the handle, breaking it off. He kicked open the door and stepped inside. The scent of cigars coming from the balcony of the house hit his nose, and with haste, he appeared on the balcony.

But Olive wasn’t there. All he could see was the ashtray, which had burned cigars in it. He loured and proceeded to take a step toward it, but his body froze the second someone emerged behind him.

He tried to turn and see who it was, but the person grabbed his thin waist tightly, holding him in place, and covered his mouth to prevent him from screaming.

"Who are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my house?" the voice questioned.

Valentine’s eyes dilated, the newly applied scent of cologne hitting his nose. That hoarse voice—he could recognize it even in his sleep. Of course, it was Olive!

A furious expression ensued on his face, and he stomped on Olive’s foot, injuring his foot bone.

"You ashole!" He spoke the second Olive released his grip on his mouth. "You were in here all along, and I’ve been knocking for ten minutes straight out there."

"Valentine?" Olive, who was clutching onto his aching foot, called in surprise.

Valentine turned to look at him, only to arch his brow at the sight of his damp hair and attire, which suggested he must have just gotten done with showering.

"I was in the fucking bathroom. What the hell are you doing in my house? You didn’t even tell me you were coming!" Olive glared at him, his face scrunched in pain at his broken toe.

Valentine took a step toward him. "There is something important that I need to talk to you about."

Olive wrinkled his brows. He let go of his foot and straightened up with a look of curiosity.

"Something important?"

"Yes!" Valentine nodded, moving closer to him. "It is about my brother. You are aware of the duel, right?"

Olive drew his head back, perplexed. "Duel...? What duel are you talking about?"

Valentine blinked his eyes, dazed by a sudden realization.

"He didn’t tell you guys?"

"What are you talking about? What duel?" Olive grabbed hold of his shoulders, heavily worried. What duel was he speaking of? Draven never said anything to them.

Valentine took continuous, deep breaths to calm himself down. "My eldest brother challenged Draven to a death duel."

"A death duel?" Olive’s face held a look of surprise. His surprise slowly turned into a light smile. "What are you worried about? Don is stronger than Prince Ryan." He shrugged.

Valentine grimaced at him and intentionally stomped on his foot again. "That is the point, idiot!"

"Hey!!" Olive staggered back with his left foot lifted. "That hurts, stop it!"

Valentine pinched between his brows and began to pace back and forth. "There is this royal law book that is passed down to each ruler, and it states that a king is allowed to add to a duel between two people. But this is only possible if the king feels injustice between the two participants."

"So, considering that Draven is stronger than Ryan, my father has the right to add to the duel in whichever way he desires. Do you know what that means?" He came to a stop, turning to look at Olive.