My Vampire Harem Will Dominate Everything-Chapter 437: The Sealing And The Salvation

Ezra turned away from the bodies, the elder meeting room of the Vampire Society almost oppressively silent.

His footsteps echoed behind him as he strode across the broken hall, leaving the corpses behind him like pieces of a discarded history.

His coat rippled with darkness, fixing any tear or burn in it. His eyes, golden and burning with the certainty of destiny, stayed forward.

He was done looking back.

He passed through the doors, exiting the room.

And waiting for him beyond?

The Society's last line of defense.

A wave of Attendants, enforcers, and Warmongers surged toward him, shouts filling the air as they sought to defend the sovereignty of the Vampire Society.

Ezra didn't stop. Neither did he slow.

A flick of his wrist, and a wall of darkness tore through them like a scythe through grain.

Their attacks shattered against his Aura, disintegrating before they even touched his coat. None of them were even strong enough to be more than ants to him. That was what it meant to be of the Ninth Rank.

He moved among them like a god among mortals.

One Warmonger screamed as his passing darkness flayed the vampire to dust. An Attendant screamed as he spent all his vitality on a single attack, the whole pillar spending itself against Ezra's Aura, not even getting a chance to touch Ezra. In the next second, a spear of darkness ran through the vampire's heart.

He walked, calm, inevitable, unstoppable.

Bodies fell in his wake.

There was no battle. There was only a massacre.

And then, deeper into the Ark he went, following the pull of the key as it sang through his blood and soul.

He descended deeper into the Ark than had been tread in decades, moving through corridors where no light ever touched.

Finally, he reached the final door. The one standing between him and what he was looking for.

Ezra stepped forward, his darkness slithering along the ground like a living thing. It reached the door and, with a shriek of tearing magic, ripped it from its hinges.

Beyond the door was a dark hallway.

He walked forward, his boots silent on the cold stone, his vitality surging inside him with a fierce, reverent excitement.

The hallway curved downward, and at the very end stood the final door.

This one was different.

It stood tall and forgotten, a colossal slab of blackened steel, covered in faded sigils. This was the secret that had been erased from all records. The place that had been sought after for centuries.

The door to the Progenitor's Palace.

Ezra raised a hand and placed it flat against the cold surface.

Immediately, the key wrapped around his soul responded.

It slithered out of him and seeped into the door's carvings. The lines along the door flared to life, the door glowing a soft blue.

The ground trembled.

A loud crack echoed through the earth.

The hallway around him began to crumble, the walls falling away like dried husks. But Ezra stood confidently, not a single stone falling towards him.

Above, in the heart of Decapolis, the mighty capital city of the Vampire Society, the ground split apart.

Black marble towers rose from the depths, tearing through streets, plazas, and skyscrapers. Screams filled the air as the spires clawed their way toward the sky.

The panicked civilians fled as a castle unlike anything ever seen erupted from beneath their feet.

Ezra stood before the door, not moving an inch.

As the shaking finally stopped, he found himself standing on a newly formed platform at ground level, surrounded by the sprawling mega-city. The palace stood right before him, now attached to its doors, tall, jagged, and beautiful.

This was the Progenitor's legacy.

Ezra stepped forward.

He pushed open the doors, which swung inward without resistance.

He entered a vast entrance hall, his boots echoing as the door closed behind him. The hall was filled with a silence that had been undisturbed for a thousand years.

And yet, here he was.

Banners hung from the tall ceiling, bearing the sigil of the Progenitor. A vast, gnarled tree with thick, reaching branches.

Ezra passed beneath them, feeling the eyes of history watching him.

At the end of the hall stood another door, taller and more beautiful. He pushed it open and stepped inside.

The throne room.

It was exactly as he had seen it in his vision, just before he'd taken the soul of Valaren.

A red carpet stretched to the far end, leading up a dais of black stone. Atop it stood the throne, a massive structure of darkness and bone, its back carved into the shape of a vast tree.

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The mural of the Progenitor.

Ezra walked slowly, reverently, down the carpet.

He climbed the steps.

He stood before the throne.

And then, slowly, he sat.

The moment he did, the energy left behind by the Progenitor surged into him.

But it did not burn him.

It crowned him.

His Aura expanded outward in a tidal wave of energy, spreading across the earth like a second sky. Vampires across the Republic staggered, sensing it.

The weave bent to him, not as a tool, not as a weapon, but as it was meant to be. A companion.

The throne itself accepted him. Welcomed him.

Ezra sat in silence, feeling the thrum of power settle into his bones, his blood, his soul.

He was no longer just a prince.

He was the King of All Vampires.

Before his very eyes, the throne hummed and a complex weave shimmered into existence.

Ezra rose to his feet and approached it.

He recognized it instantly.

The Gate of the Abyss.

The Progenitor's final act. The seal that had protected the Earth from the horrors of the Abyss. But if left for too long, the earth would fade away, erased from existence.

Not anymore.

Ezra reached out with both hands.

The weave was breathtaking, layers upon layers of protection, sacrifice, hope.

He placed his fingers against the shimmering strands and, with a reverent pull, he began to unravel it.

Thread by thread, the weave dissolved, unraveling like morning mist under sunlight.

The Gate shimmered once, twice, then cracked.

A wind howled through the palace, the world sensing what was about to happen.

Ezra stood tall, his darkness swirling around him, his golden eyes blazing.

And with a voice full of Authority, he spoke, the words echoing across the weave, the earth, and the Abyss itself.

"Let this world be free."

The Gate shattered.

The Earth shook.

The world was unsealed.

And at last, the King had claimed his throne.

END OF VOLUME 5: CHILD OF ETERNITY