A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 328: I Won’t Spare You, Brother!

Chapter 328: I Won’t Spare You, Brother!

Lestat, on the other hand, held a look of annoyance and disappointment. He’d thought Draven would die—he saw it coming. So why in the world was he still breathing and looking perfectly fine, as though he hadn’t been stabbed and poisoned just the night before?

Ryan, who sat next to Lumian, nervously flickered his eyes, suddenly feeling himself unable to breathe properly. He tightened his anxious grip on his pants and swallowed hard.

Yes, their father had told him that Draven was stronger, but he never thought it was to that extent. Never did he think he would lose that awfully, regardless of having so much help and even Mr. Aldéric on his side.

Due to his pride, he was not going to utter to anyone the amount of fear he was feeling within him at that moment. He didn’t want to be looked down upon, but at the same time, he knew that if Draven wanted to kill him at that moment, he could.

He needed to get out of there—to leave that table. He would never be at peace or have his breakfast properly with that monster sitting close to him. He’d never really thought deeply about the fact that their father called Draven the devil’s son. But during that fight, he’d realized the hard way that there was a high chance that he probably was.

His strength was beyond normal. Despite being poisoned and stabbed twice, he still survived. Vampire’s healing had a limit and if by common sense, Draven should have died, yet he survived and healed.

He could not seem to make any sense of it. Besides, their father had abandoned him at the hall, so he should have died before help even came.

Ryan aggressively ran his fingers through his hair, seeming as though he was losing his mind. He stood up from the chair, wanting to leave, but a knife from the table suddenly flew at him at the speed of light, and only narrowly did he dodge it. The knife flew and stuck to the wooden parts of the pillar of the pavilion.

He breathed heavily, and the second he felt blood begin to trickle down his cheek from the small cut he sustained, he looked over at Draven with dilated pupils. Indeed, Draven was the one who’d thrown the knife.

Everyone’s mouths dropped in shock, including Avelina. Why had he done that?

Ryan’s body shook furiously, and he slammed his hands on the table. "You asshole! ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?! Do you want to kill me?!"

Draven gazed at him for a few moments and nodded his head, affirming, "I do. You deserve it."

"What?!" Ryan was already losing his mind at this point.

Draven picked up his knife and fork and began to cut into his breakfast. "It was a death duel, do you remember?"

"You issued it," he said. "And I will see to it that it has an ending. It’s either you kill me or I kill you. But..." He looked at Ryan. "...Knowing your situation, I do not think you will be able to kill me, so it will be you who dies."

"I won’t spare you, brother. After all, I’m sure you wouldn’t give it a second thought to kill me if you were stronger." He took a soft breath. "Just watch your back, you never know when I will strike. Father may have saved you last time, but I’m not sure he will be able to next time." He smiled softly. It was an open threat—one that wouldn’t even be hidden from their father.

"Bon appetit." He bit into his food and began to chew. Then he turned to Avelina to feed her, ignoring the stunned eyes that were on him. Even Old Master Lenort was at a loss for words.

What sort of confidence was this? Never did he think there would come a time when Draven would openly threaten his half-brother before his eyes. It was as though he had no fear for him—not even a grain of it. It was as if he didn’t even exist in his world, as if he was nothing but a mere memory that existed for just a moment.

Avelina slowly smiled to herself, sparing old master Lenort only one glance. Of course, Old Master Lenort didn’t fail to see it. Now he wished he’d strangled her to death.

Avelina’s smile was mocking—a smile taunting and looking down on him.

Suddenly burning with anger and annoyance, he gripped his utensils but didn’t say a word.

"I hope you are happy to see me again, Father," Draven uttered, swallowing the chewed-up food in his mouth.

Old Master Lenort’s eyes brimmed with disdain and hate. He didn’t answer, but Draven could feel his sudden ill intent.

He chortled, continuing to peacefully eat his breakfast and feed his wife.

"Ryan," Old Master Lenort suddenly spoke.

Ryan glanced at him. "Yes, father."

"Has the blood bank brought in the batches of blood I ordered?" Old Master Lenort questioned.

Ryan nodded. "Yes, they have."

"Good." Old Master Lenort took a bite from his food. "Make sure it is distributed amongst the civilians accordingly. I don’t want any of our kind to lose control and have to feed on a human. I don’t know for how long this full moon will last, and I also cannot deal with any of the humans’ shenanigans."

"I won’t appreciate that peace treaty being questioned. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father." Ryan gave him a nod. He picked up his food with a clenched jaw, still very affected by what happened earlier.

Old Master Lenort cleared his throat. "I’m sure that the heat cycle must have started for some of you and—"

Most of them began to cough as though they had choked on their food. This caused old master Lenort to frown at them.

He said, "Deal with it however you want. We’re unfortunately out of suppressants."

"What?!" Ryan widened his eyes, looking at his father. "But how would I deal with it? I need those suppressants, Father—"

"And I’m telling you we are out. Fucking deal with it, Ryan, and do not bother me. Your wife is dead, you can always find someone else, even if you don’t have to marry them or have something special to do with them."