Chapter 186:

The relationship between Tris and Murphy was now at a rather delicate stage. Murphy had unreservedly expressed his feelings, hoping to engage in an impure relationship with Tris based on being partners, but Tris was always evasive. However, she did not intentionally try to play the role of a femme fatale. She was simply worried that her past wild behavior would cause trouble for Murphy. This stemmed from a parental figure’s protective instinct towards their descendant, even though their blood pact had long been dissolved. Apart from this concern, Tris did not reject Murphy’s occasional overly intimate gestures. As she herself said, she did not dislike this unique descendant of hers. Since she had not explicitly refused Murphy’s advances, some intimacy that did not cross the line was naturally acceptable. In the office, Tris allowed Murphy to embrace her slender waist from behind. He gently sniffed the mysterious scent tinged with alcohol and midnight favors from her long hair. However, his hands remained proper, not lingering where they should not. This was the limit of what Tris could currently accept. Any further would result in a spirit blast in the face. The good news was that beneath Murphy’s young vampire body lay a soul that was not immature. The cunning socialite understood the principle of “haste makes waste” when it came to matters of the heart. His attitude towards this affection was not merely a passing fancy, he was serious enough and had sufficient patience. All seasoned men know that a delicious meal cannot be devoured in large bites, it must be savored slowly to fully appreciate its sweetness. “Behave yourself, I’m discussing serious matters,” Tris said with some exasperation. “Go on, I’m listening,” Murphy replied, closing his eyes and resting his head on Tris’s shoulder, gently swaying his body and causing Tris’s body to move slowly around the office. It was like the graceful motion of a dance, and he enjoyed this sense of control, feeling that he even had a talent for micromanagement. “Femis’s interrogation with the Blood Pact Knights went smoothly. Lord Payne spent several days listening to everything that happened in Kadman City, carefully inquiring about the impact of the Ten-Year War on the Blood Vulture Clan, as well as the eternal rest of Salrokdar and the current state of the clan. Our plans and development roadmap for the future have all been made known to the Lord.” Tris placed her hand on Murphy’s, resting on her abdomen. Moving her agile and graceful steps in sync with Murphy’s movements, she said softly: “Femis told me that although Lord Payne did not explicitly ask, he most likely already knows the truth about Femis’s origins. I even suspect that our actions of stealing the seeds of life with Salrokdar and the other elders did not escape the Lord’s notice. To be honest, this worries me a bit.” “Are you afraid that all of this was orchestrated behind the scenes by Lord Payne?” Murphy asked in a gentle voice. “Do you think that Lord Payne has been watching Salrokdar and Femis’s actions all along, but chose not to intervene and instead allowed Salrokdar’s madness? Only when the previous Blood Vulture Grand Duke took that step towards seeking the sub-space did he finally cross Lord Payne’s bottom line?” “Yes, that’s what I think, and not just a guess,” Tris sighed, her voice full of worry. “From an impartial perspective, Salrokdar’s original intention in creating the unique life form that is Femis should have been an attempt to complete the bold plan I had outlined for him back then. We had tried to mend the innate flaws of vampires. You’ve seen that Femis cannot initially possess others, but she can give birth to new vampires through human childbirth. From this point of view, Salrokdar and my plan had already succeeded! As the uncrowned king of the vampire lineage who has lived since ancient times, I don’t believe Lord Payne, the most accepted vampire leader by other civilizations, would not have considered this. He must have hoped that we could peacefully share this world with other races. Femis’s existence represents such a possibility! This may be the main reason for Lord Payne’s feigned ignorance. Additionally, the Lord helped Femis complete the final breakthrough of her Black Iron Rank strength and personally presided over her Silver Trial.” “Isn’t that better?” Murphy responded in a lazy voice next to Tris’s ear, as if shedding all burdens. “By accepting Femis in this manner, Lord Payne has also prevented anyone else who might know from using this matter to threaten us. It also represents the Lord’s forgiveness for your past reckless actions. Since Salrokdar is already dead, you are Femis’s guardian. If you can have Femis give birth to a true vampire, Lord Payne will undoubtedly be delighted and might even reward us.” “So...are you prepared?” Tris finally stated the reason for her visit tonight. She stopped walking and turned to face Murphy, speaking in a very serious and solemn tone: “You are the most suitable person I could find to marry Femis and complete this...mm!” The Blood Vulture Grand Duchess had seriously proposed a possibility, but she seemed unaware that her words had already angered Murphy. Before she could finish, the suddenly enraged Murphy pinned her against the wall in a rough manner, followed by a kiss. But it was not gentle. It carried a sense of brutality, punishment, and rejection. To put it bluntly, Tris even felt suffocated, and Murphy’s usually gentlemanly hands crossed the line for the first time, as if to leave a mark, trailing along her scars upwards. With his fingers clenched in a gripping motion, he elicited a low cry of pain from Tris. “I can forgive you for carelessly uttering those foolish words that hurt my feelings, my dear Tris,” Murphy said, panting, in Tris’s ear after nearly a minute of rough kissing. “But if there is a next time, I will be quite angry and heartbroken. Tris, would you want to make me sad? You know I am rather conservative and traditional in this regard. I have no such intentions, nor is there any need to go philandering outside of our relationship.” “What did you take my previous confession to you as? A silly joke from a little boy?” “I was just...” It was the same principle as his evaluation that the young lady’s petite stature and youthful face lacked any gravitas in war. As a territorial lord, Murphy needed to exude more authority. Miriam and Lady Adele had also been invited. The two were whispering to each other, assessing whether the lord’s demeanor was appropriate, while Tris stood by with a bottle of wine, enjoying the spectacle with a mischievous look on her alluring face. Amidst the voice from the communication bead, Lieutenant Frayzer’s reminders continued: “Marshal Loren dislikes excessive ceremony, especially when discussing official matters. You should be as direct as possible to avoid wasting both parties’ time. Regarding the Kingdom of Nordtov granting you the title of Acting Governor, I have already reported to the marshal’s deputy. He has promised that the marshal will extend the necessary courtesies during your meeting.” “As it should be,” Murphy replied with a straight face. He could not move because Little Ashina was using a vampire-specific eyelash curler to groom his lashes, and her unique stance with the tool made Murphy feel like she wanted to pluck out his eyes. Yet he still had to maintain the composure befitting an NPC, remaining as still as a mountain while Sister Pomegranate wielded a sharp razor to trim the hair on the back of his neck. Murphy’s long hair was rather elaborate to manage, but fortunately, he was meticulous about personal hygiene, which made the sister players even more fond of Lord Murphy. They chattered, discussing their ideal types, eventually reaching a consensus: seven-tenths of Murphy’s handsomeness would suffice. After all, they could not handle a man as handsome as Lord Murphy. This honest and reliable assessment brought a slight smile to Murphy’s lips. Ah, his little players knew how to talk. “Finally, one last point, and the most important one,” Lieutenant Frayzer hesitated for a moment before lowering his voice to advise, “Due to the half-dwarf bloodline being susceptible to certain shameless discrimination in human society, Marshal Loren is quite sensitive about height issues. During your conversation, you must be extremely careful not to utter the word ‘short’! If you hope for this discussion to proceed smoothly.” “I have also heard of the taboos dwarves have in this regard, and I have prepared accordingly. Thank you for your reminder, Lieutenant Frayzer. If this diplomatic meeting can be successfully completed, it will undoubtedly be partly due to your efforts.” Murphy responded courteously, and after a few more reminders, the other side hung up. The sister players had already started selecting fragrances for Murphy. Even though such items would be entirely useless during a spirit conference, they seemed to treat Murphy as their “model,” debating how to make Lord Murphy look even more handsome and charming. In the end, the well-traveled Orchid provided a definitive solution. From the “vampire makeup” supplied by Lady Adele, she found a unique, subtly elegant rose fragrance and sprayed it on Murphy. Then, Sister Pomegranate arranged Murphy’s long hair over his shoulders in the most graceful yet authoritative manner. Everyone took a few steps back, admiring their model like a work of art. Miriam and Adele glanced at each other, both surprised by what they saw in each other’s eyes. These otherworld ladies were truly skilled! After their efforts, Lord Murphy had gained an air of elegance and authority to complement his signature gentleness. Even Tris, who took a sip of her drink to conceal her captivated gaze towards Murphy at that moment. Tsk, her taste was truly impeccable! Randomly encountered on a snowy night, yet she had found such a handsome and loyal descendant. A few minutes later, everyone left the office, leaving Tris behind as a Spirit Mage assistant. Upon sensing the vibration of a spirit channel bearing a specific mark from afar, the Blood Vulture Grand Duchess waved her hand, and with the precise oscillation of crimson spirit energy, the ultra-long-distance communication channel was opened. Mirror-like light screens appeared simultaneously before Marshal Loren and Lord Murphy, allowing them to see each other. Murphy was in the Blood Vulture Halls office, while Marshal Loren seemed to be on a moving steam train. The former wore the classic ceremonial outfit of the Blood Vulture Clan, while the latter donned a marshal’s uniform with a blue sash, his meticulously groomed mustache evident. One exuded authoritative elegance, the other elegant authority. Murphy smiled, about to greet the other party, but the half-dwarf marshal suddenly asked: “So, you’re the little vampire thief who stole my stuff? Why are you even wearing makeup, looking like a sissy?” “???” A hundred questions instantly arose in Murphy’s mind. We’re all respectable figures now, yet you’re still bringing up embarrassing past incidents in this setting? No courtesy at all? Deliberately trying to undermine me? Seizing the initiative? Trying to mess with my mindset and intentionally picking a fight? Don’t blame me for retaliating in kind, then. In the next moment, Murphy opened his mouth and said: