My Blood Legacy: Reincarnated as a Vampire

While everything seemed to fall into place, nothing was truly well for the nobility of the Werewolves...

The palace was in full battle formation; no one could predict when the kingdom would be attacked, or if it would be.

The air was thick with a deafening silence, broken only by the hurried footsteps of Alexander Sucellus, the Prince of Werewolves.

As he nervously walked through the vast hall towards his father's throne room, his eyes, usually full of arrogance, were now clouded by a mix of fear and shame.

He had fled.

In front of everyone.

And now, his shame followed him like an unwanted shadow.

Prince Alexander was known for his inflated confidence and haughty demeanor. He presented himself as the rightful heir to the Werewolf throne, the next great leader of his race, but deep down, those who knew him understood the truth: Alexander was a coward. A man who talked big but whose actions failed to match his words.

And this truth had been humiliatingly revealed when, in front of all the gathered rulers, he fled without looking back.

Upon entering the hall, he saw his father, the Werewolf King Velkan, seated on his black stone throne. He appeared quite irritated by all that had happened... His deep, nearly inscrutable eyes fixed on Alexander, filled with a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

Beside Velkan, Fenrir, the daughter of Loki, stood, observing Alexander with an unreadable expression. Her calculating eyes watched the Prince's every move with disturbing attention, as if she were planning something far greater than anyone in the hall could imagine.

Alexander felt a knot form in his stomach as he saw the gazes awaiting him. He knew he needed to speak, to justify what he had done. But what could he say? That he was overcome by fear? That he couldn't face the danger as a true leader should?

"Father..." Alexander began, but his voice faltered. He cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. "I... I can explain what happened..."

Velkan remained silent for a long moment, his gaze piercing Alexander like a blade. The Prince... or rather, the General, could feel the weight of judgment in every second of that silence.

"Explain?" Velkan finally spoke, his voice deep and low, laden with disappointment. "You fled, Alexander. In front of all the leaders. Rulers of races that at least show respect. And you... fled." He said, staring deeply into his eyes.

The word echoed through the hall, filling the emptiness that Alexander desperately tried to ignore. He knew Velkan was right. Fleeing had been the worst thing he could have done. Not only for leaving his allies vulnerable but for showing his weakness to those who expected to see the strength of a rightful heir and general.

"I... I had no choice, father!" Alexander replied, his voice gaining a desperate urgency. "The situation was out of control. They... they were too strong. I couldn't..."

"You couldn't what?" Velkan interrupted, rising slowly from his throne. The weight of his authority was overwhelming. "You couldn't fight? You couldn't protect your people? You, Alexander, Prince of Werewolves, couldn't even hold your ground?"

The anger in Velkan's voice was clear, but there was something else. Something worse. Disappointment. And that disappointment hurt Alexander more deeply than anything else.

He wanted to respond, to argue that he did what he thought was best, but every word died in his throat before it could be spoken.

Fenrir, who had remained silent until then, finally stepped forward. Her cold and calculating eyes met Alexander's, and for a moment, he almost felt a pang of fear as he faced her.

"You fled because fear overwhelmed you, Alexander," Fenrir said, her voice calm and controlled, nothing like the giant black wolf that had raged against Valentina. "There is no shame in feeling fear, we all do. But there is shame in letting fear control your actions. And that is exactly what you did."

The words of Fenrir cut deep. She was right. Alexander knew that his fear had consumed him, preventing him from thinking clearly, from acting as he should have. He clenched his fists, trying to contain the frustration bubbling inside him.

'Dante… damn vampire...' he thought.

It was all that man's fault, that vampire who returned to life after being killed, all because of his stupid temper. He had nothing to do with his death! This would have happened somehow! Why was he being blamed for something beyond reality?

"You think running was your only option," Fenrir continued, tilting her head slightly. "But you didn't think about the consequences, did you? What do you think the other rulers think of you now? A general who ran at the first sign of danger. You've lost any respect you might have earned."

"That's not true!" Alexander responded, his voice finally filled with anger. "I am the heir to the throne! They respect me for who I am!"

"For who you are?" Fenrir let out a low, cold laugh. "And what exactly are you, Alexander? A name? A title? Titles mean nothing if they aren't backed by action. And your actions have proven you're not ready to be a leader, let alone a ruler," she remarked.

The room fell into a heavy silence. Alexander was breathing heavily, struggling to keep his composure. He knew Fenrir was manipulating the situation, but he couldn't find a way to counter her. It was as if everything he said only strengthened her words.

Velkan, who had remained silent while Fenrir spoke, sighed deeply before approaching Alexander. The Prince felt the weight of his father's presence coming closer, and his body instinctively tensed.

"You've always spoken about your right to rule, to the point where you made your brother give up on anything related to the kingdom," Velkan said, his voice now calmer but still laden with disappointment. "But ruling isn't just about power or inheritance. It's about responsibility. And today, you failed in that responsibility."

Alexander lowered his head, unable to meet his father's gaze. The silence in the hall was deafening, and he could feel the weight of each word like stones being hurled at him.

"Is that why I'm here?" A male voice that Alexander knew all too well sounded. "Boris..." he murmured. The man, of course, he knew him well...

"Hey, little brother," Boris greeted with a smile and a wave. "W-what's he doing here?" Alexander quickly questioned his father.

"You know very well," Velkan replied, looking at Alexander with disdain. Well, he had clear reasons; Alexander had embarrassed all werewolves when he fled...

"Boris," Velkan began, turning to his eldest son. "Given Alexander's failure and considering the current state of our kingdom, I've decided that you will be the new general of the werewolf army."

Alexander felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. He knew he had disappointed his father, but he didn't expect this. Holding the title of general was more than just a military position; it was recognition of power and responsibility. What he had fought so hard to maintain, what he had forced Boris to renounce, was now being taken from him with a single decision.

Boris, however, didn't seem surprised. In fact, a slight smile curled his lips.

"General, huh?" he commented almost casually. "I always knew this moment would come."

Alexander felt the panic rising. It wasn't just the fact that he was losing his position that bothered him.

It was Boris.

Something was wrong.

The brother, who had never cared for power and had even been complacent about not ruling, was now there, before everyone, with a confidence Alexander had never seen in him before.

"Wait, Father!" Alexander intervened desperately. "He can't just take my place! I... I can still prove that I'm worthy. I just... just need a chance!"

Velkan completely ignored Alexander's pleas and turned his attention back to Boris, raising his hand towards his eldest son in a symbolic gesture to solidify his ascent to the position of general. But before he could finalize the gesture, Boris raised his hand in a smooth motion, interrupting the moment.

"Sorry, Father," Boris said, his voice still calm but with a cold edge. "But I couldn't care less about this worthless position."

The hall fell into absolute silence. Velkan frowned, confused.

"What do you mean by that?" the king asked, his voice firm.

"I'm not going to take command of the werewolves," Boris continued, now walking slowly towards the center of the hall where everyone could see him clearly. "Because I'm no longer part of this kingdom."

Alexander felt the air escape his lungs. He looked at his brother, incredulous.

"What are you saying, Boris?" Alexander asked, feeling the desperation rising. "This is madness!"

Boris smiled again, but this time the smile was cruel.

"Madness? Maybe. But it's the only thing that makes sense to me now. I've decided I'm done with this kingdom, this rotten hierarchy. And with you, Alexander. Besides, of course, I couldn't care less about you offending someone far more important than fools like you.

I should have delivered the head of this useless one."

Velkan stepped forward, his imposing presence filling the hall.

"Explain yourself, Boris," he ordered, his voice deep as thunder. "What are you insinuating?"

Boris stopped, turning to look directly at his father.

"I'm saying that I'm deserting. Leaving the werewolf kingdom for you all to die in this pointless war." He paused, letting his words hang in the heavy air of the room. "And I'm joining my dear friend Katarina Black, the next Empress of the Demi-Humans. And of course, by her side is Dante Scarlet."

Boris's words hit the hall like a lightning bolt. Alexander took a step back, nearly stumbling in his own confusion. His brother, the same brother he had always seen as weak and obedient, was betraying the kingdom? He was joining Katarina Black, the future empress, and... Dante Scarlet? That name sent chills down Alexander's spine.

Velkan, on the other hand, was petrified. His breathing became heavy, and his eyes, usually cold and calculating, were now filled with rage.

"You... are betraying your own family? Your kingdom?" Velkan growled, his voice trembling with suppressed fury.

Boris laughed, a dry and empty sound.

"Family? Do you really believe there's anything familial about this, Father? You killed my mother, you worm." He looked at Alexander with clear disdain in his eyes. "This kingdom has always been a stupid power game, and I've decided I'm tired of being the disposable piece. Besides, of course, picking the winning side. Or do you really think you have a chance against him?

Hahaha, you're so naive." He laughed.

Before Velkan could react, a mark began to glow on the floor beneath Boris. It was a magical circle, its purple edges glowing and pulsating with energy. Alexander watched in horror as the circle formed, a magic he didn't recognize but knew was incredibly powerful.

"You can't do this!" Alexander shouted, advancing, but was stopped by an invisible barrier created by Boris's magic.

Boris cast one last disdainful glance at his brother.

"You know, Alexander, you've always been a spoiled child, always thinking that the throne and power were your destiny. But the truth is, you never had what it takes to lead. And now, you'll see what it means to be on the losing side."

Velkan advanced, his fury taking control, but it was too late. Boris grinned broadly, savoring his betrayal, as the magical circle around him glowed even more intensely.

"Goodbye, Velkan. Goodbye, little brother."

With an explosion of purple light, Boris vanished, leaving only the silence and the seething rage of Velkan in the hall.