Fangless: The Alpha's Vampire Mate-Chapter 309: The Final Command

King Valentin raised his hand once more, ready to subdue Florian with his power—but Florian was faster. He dodged, pivoting to the side in a blur of movement, then lunged at the king with blistering speed. Energy surged through his right hand, while his left unleashed razor-sharp claws, gleaming with raw power.

Rage drove him forward. Unlike before, when Ol’gaz had possessed his body and nearly killed Lisbeth with cold, calculated precision, this time, it was different.

The demon had no heart, no emotions—but Florian did. And now, it was his own fury propelling him toward his uncle, his own will extending his hand to smother King Valentin in black smoke.

But rage made him reckless. His attacks were fast, devastating even—but wild. His strikes lacked the precision of an experienced fighter, unlike King Valentin, who had spent years honing his combat skills.

The king moved with discipline, countering each assault with practiced efficiency, while Florian’s attacks, though powerful, were chaotic and unpredictable.

His recklessness cost him. He missed more than he hit. But when he did land a blow, the impact was catastrophic. One strike sent King Valentin crashing through the massive doors, shattering them into splinters under the sheer force of the attack.

Yet the king endured. It was impressive in itself that King Valentin even survived that.

Sensing an opportunity, Margrave Boris launched a surprise attack from behind. But the margrave was no warrior—his power lay in strategy, not brute force. Against the vessel of a demon, he was nothing.

Florian effortlessly spun around, striking the king’s aide before the man could even attempt an attack. The force sent him sprawling.

The Royal Guards, who had been standing outside the door, were momentarily frozen in shock. The door suddenly burst into pieces, and the king flew out of it. But the hesitation lasted only seconds.

Snapping back to their senses, they sprang into action. Forming tight ranks, they positioned themselves between their king and the threat, their stances rigid with determination. King Valentin, though still on his feet, had taken a brutal hit—but as long as they stood, they would not allow him to become a defenseless target.

Their duty was clear: protect the king, defend the kingdom. And if that meant laying down their lives, so be it.

They unleashed their full power, determined to subdue Florian. His status no longer mattered—nephew of the king or even if he were the heir to the throne, it made no difference. The moment he dared to lay a hand on King Valentin, he became a traitor.

And the Royal Guards would not stand idle in the face of treason.

"Don’t let him escape!" the captain of the Royal Guards bellowed.

The air crackled with energy as vibrant auras erupted, each warrior pouring their strength into subduing Florian. Even Margrave Boris and King Valentin joined the fray, their combined might focused on stopping him. But it wasn’t enough. Florian was simply too powerful.

Only the king stood a chance in a one-on-one battle, and even he knew the odds were against him. The demon lurking within Florian was a force beyond reason, beyond restraint.

Florian tore through the Royal Guards like they were nothing, swatting them aside with ease. Their attacks barely grazed him, their power insignificant in the face of his raw strength.

Margrave Boris, the weakest among them, was already drenched in blood—his nose, his mouth, his body battered and broken. Yet he refused to fall, pushing himself back into the fight despite the agony.

This demon child had to die. Leaving Florian alive was a risk the kingdom couldn’t afford. If he survived, he would remember this day, and one day, he would return to reduce them all to ashes.

With terrifying speed, Florian leapt onto the walls, using them as springboards to propel himself through the narrow corridor.

Royal Guards collapsed in his wake, knocked down by nothing more than his sheer physical might. He didn’t even need to unleash his true power—his body alone was more than enough to dismantle them.

King Valentin took several steps back, and for a moment, it looked as though he might flee. But he wasn’t running—he was creating distance, preparing to unleash his power. A master of long-range combat, he would now fight at full strength.

But there was no one left to stand beside him. The Royal Guards lay motionless, defeated.

Margrave Boris had collapsed, his breaths ragged and uneven. Thick blood spilled from his mouth as he coughed violently, his body trembling with the effort. He clutched his stomach, willing himself to rise, to rejoin the battle, to protect his king. But his body refused to obey.

He was powerless before the Prince of Darkness.

King Valentin raised both of his arms. He now understood how Elder Alfred must have felt when he insisted on killing Riona upon knowing she was the Blood Moon child.

When you knew that doom was near, it couldn’t be helped, you would feel anxious and want to eliminate the risk factor as soon as you could. The more anxious you were, the more desperate you became.

And King Valentin had never been this desperate before.

As the king raised his hand, Florian mirrored the motion, their powers colliding in the space between them. A dark, twisting force crackled in the air. Black smoke coiled around Florian’s body, obscuring him from view. But the true danger wasn’t what the king could see—it was what he couldn’t.

Silently, the smoke slithered along the floor, creeping toward King Valentin like a living shadow. Before he even realized it, tendrils of darkness coiled around his legs, then rose, seeping into his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

A violent choking sensation seized him from within. His throat burned as if unseen hands were strangling him from the inside. Gagging, he clawed desperately at his own neck, his fingers grasping at nothing—at smoke, at air, at death itself. But there was no way to pull it out. The darkness was inside him now.

He gasped, his lungs refusing to draw breath. His vision blurred. His knees buckled. With a strangled, gurgling sound—"Heookkk!!!"—he collapsed to the ground, helpless as the shadows consumed him. freёnovelkiss.com

"Yeshhh..." A low, guttural whisper slithered through Florian’s mind.

Ol’gaz.

That oily, insidious voice curled around his thoughts, taunting him. But Florian wasn’t in the mood for games. His focus remained locked on his uncle, watching as the black smoke coiled deeper into King Valentin’s body.

Then came the laughter. "AHAHAHAHA!" A cruel, deafening echo inside his skull.

Florian flinched, his fingers twitching for just a moment. But the smoke did not stop. It continued its slow, merciless invasion, creeping deeper into the king’s lungs, his veins, his soul.

"You are me now," Ol’gaz purred, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You’ve become me. You can no longer deny it."

The laughter faded, leaving only a chilling command.

"Kill him. Finish him."