Blood Awakening: The Strongest Hybrid and His Vampire Bride - Chapter 350
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- Chapter 350 - Chapter 350: Festival of Masks
Chapter 350: Festival of Masks
The hall ahead buzzed with low voices, the sharp scent of wine and a celestial aura thick in the air.
Risa adjusted her robe for the third time. “This dress is killing me…”
“Focus,” Kumiko said softly, her golden eyes steady. “This isn’t a party. It’s a hunt.”
The girls moved together, slipping through the huge archway into the banquet room.
Above them, soft blue lights glowed along the ceiling.
Rows of round tables packed the floor, shining under gold and silver banners. Faces turned to watch them — vampires in tailored suits, werewolves in sharp formal coats, humans and other races dressed for power.
High above it all, Nikolai sat at the raised table near the front, his black robe catching the light. His red eyes found them immediately, calm and unreadable, like a wolf sizing up the entire room at once.
He didn’t move and definitely didn’t smile.
But even from across the hall, they could feel the weight of his pride behind them.
“Well,” Nikita said under her breath, rolling her shoulders. “Time to smile at people who want to stab us.”
“At least wait until after dessert,” Amphitrite said with a lazy smile, stepping around Risa.
Selene said nothing. She only adjusted her sleeves and walked forward, every inch the princess she was raised to be.
They moved through the tables slowly, nodding politely where needed, accepting the shallow bows and empty greetings that met them like a tide.
Already, the first cracks in the room’s fake politeness were starting to show. Nikita caught a glimpse of a Silver Clan group near the far wall, sharp-eyed and whispering. Kumiko caught it too. She smiled gently, but her tails flicked once in warning.
The real game was about to begin.
They barely made it past the second table before the whispers started.
Selene walked at the front of their small formation, head high, every step measured. Her long white robe brushed the floor, red embroidery gleaming under the lights.
A knot of minor vampire nobles leaned in toward each other as she passed, their voices pitched just high enough to be overheard.
“Tragic, isn’t it?” one said behind a raised glass of wine. “A princess of pure blood… dragged into a dog’s den.”
Another chuckled softly. “At least she’ll have good hunting.”
Selene didn’t react. Not a blink, not a flinch.
But Risa stiffened beside her, ears twitching.
“Ignore it,” Selene said under her breath, smooth and cold. “They’re gnats. We don’t kneel for gnats.”
Nikita smirked, sharp and easy. “Not unless we’re stomping on them.”
Kumiko gave a soft, almost musical laugh, low enough only the girls could hear. “Not tonight,” she murmured. “Tonight we smile and sharpen the knives later.”
They moved deeper into the hall, passing clusters of vampires and werewolves clinging to their pride, eyes following every twitch of their robes, every flick of a tail.
Near the centre tables, the Silver Clan wolves gathered — smaller than the Fenrir, sharper-boned, dressed in tailored grey suits that couldn’t quite hide the bitterness clinging to them.
A younger wolf, maybe just barely past his first maturity, broke from the group and swaggered toward them, a goblet swinging from his fingers.
He didn’t bow.
Instead, he grinned widely, showing too-sharp teeth.
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“Didn’t think I’d see the Fenrir’s brightest gem chained to a Volkov leash,” he said loudly, voice dripping casual mockery.
The nearby tables quieted, attention sliding toward them like knives.
Nikita didn’t slow. She walked right up to him — close enough he had to tilt his head back to meet her golden eyes.
“You didn’t think,” she said simply. “That’s the first true thing you’ve said tonight.”
The wolf shuddered at her mocking words. His friends at the table snickered behind their hands, unsure whether to back him or cut him loose.
“You’ll regret switching packs,” he growled under his breath, low enough for only her to hear.
Nikita smiled sweetly, flashing a little fang. “Funny. I thought regret was your clan’s tradition.”
Before he could answer, Kumiko stepped between them with perfect timing, her hand light on Nikita’s arm.
“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Kumiko said politely to the Silver wolf, her voice warm and deadly at the same time. “But we have many more friends to greet.”
She steered Nikita forward without a ripple.
Behind them, the Silver Clan boy stood frozen, burning with the humiliation he wasn’t brave enough to act on.
However, a moment later, several bald muscular males with shades dragged the boy and his friends towards the staff door… a sound of howling and wailing sounded from the closed door.
Meanwhile, Risa made a choking sound, half-laugh, half-snort.
“Gods, Kumi,” she whispered. “You make it look so easy.”
Kumiko only smiled, calm and composed, as they moved deeper into the banquet.
But the air around them was shifting now — sharper, heavier.
The predators in the room were starting to circle.
The moment they reached the food tables, Risa let out a low whistle.
“Look at all this,” she muttered, tail flicking with barely controlled excitement. “Forget politics, I’m marrying a roasted lamb if Nikolai doesn’t treat me right.”
Nikita smirked, following her. “Careful. I think the lamb might be safer.”
They hovered near the long buffet lines, blending into the buzz of servers and wandering guests. Huge platters of food lined the tables — rare meats, shimmering fruits, gold-dusted pastries that looked too fancy to actually eat. The warm, heavy smells helped loosen the tightness coiling in their chests.
“Well I don’t think I could forget ‘that’ ever…” Risa’s cheeks became red as she chewed on the soft lamb, causing Nikita’s cheeky smile to deepen.
“It was amazing, right? I still feel it inside—” Nikita gasped, as one of Kumiko’s clones yanked on her tail, and placed a finger to her lips.
“Vulgar topics… save them for tonight.”
For a moment, it almost felt normal.
Until Risa’s ears twitched.
She froze, hand halfway toward a honeyed fig.
Nikita caught the shift instantly, eyes narrowing.
Two figures stood half-hidden behind a tall ice sculpture shaped like a twisting dragon — both wearing formal robes too fine for common servants. One had the sharp, cold bearing of the Silver Clan — wiry frame, greyish hair slicked back tight. The other was a vampire, face hidden behind a half-mask, silver embroidery marking him as part of a minor house loyal to the old Tepes families.
They spoke low and fast.
“Tonight’s the best chance,” the wolf said. “After the public toast. Embarrass him in front of everyone.”
The vampire chuckled. “Make the wolf look weak, the wives unstable. The alliance cracks itself.”
“And if it doesn’t work?”
“Then it still plants doubt. Doubt spreads faster than blood.”
Nikita’s lips pulled back slightly, flashing a glimpse of fang.
Risa grabbed her arm before she could move. “Not here,” she whispered. “Not now.”
Nikita exhaled hard through her nose and turned away, dragging Risa with her toward the far side of the room while she held the leg of lamb in her hand, unable to part with the delicious 5-star level of cuisine.
They slipped back into the crowd, faces smooth, steps casual — but under their skin, the knowledge burned.
Someone wasn’t just trying to insult them.
Someone was trying to wreck everything Nikolai had built before it could even stand.
Risa swallowed hard, casting a glance over her shoulder.
The dragon sculpture glinted cold and sharp under the blue lights, hiding more venom behind its beauty than most of the people here.
They had to warn the others.
Fast.
—
The ceremonial gong sounded once, low and deep, cutting through the noise of the banquet.
All the guests stood slowly, turning toward the top table where Nikolai waited, cold and calm as ever. A steward in black and silver robes stepped forward steadily with sharp eyes. He held a large silver tray lined with crystal goblets filled with a shimmering silver coloured wine.
The traditional toast.
One by one, servants moved through the hall, offering the glasses to the most important guests first — high-ranking vampires, powerful werewolf leaders, and finally the wives themselves.
Selene reached for her glass without hesitation, her movements smooth and regal.
Kumiko’s clone, standing just behind her left shoulder, tilted her head slightly. Her golden eyes flickered — almost too fast for anyone to notice.
But Kumiko herself, seated a few steps away, caught it instantly.
Something was wrong.
The clone moved.
In a motion so natural it barely rippled the air, she stepped forward, bumping the tray just as the servant turned. “Forgive me,” the clone said softly, voice low and sweet.
The servant fumbled — almost dropped the tray — and when he recovered. The glasses had shifted. Kumiko’s clone smoothly passed Selene a fresh glass, hiding the switch as if it were part of the stumble.
Selene accepted it without blinking.
Only when she lifted the glass to her lips did Kumiko’s real body relax slightly.
From across the room, Risa and Nikita shared a quick look, both of them reading the air the same way.
Someone had tried to slip something into Selene’s drink.
And if Kumiko hadn’t been watching…
At the head table, Nikolai’s red eyes sharpened slightly, catching the disruption even from a distance.He didn’t move. He didn’t need to.
The message was already clear.
The Festival of the Moon wasn’t just a celebration anymore.
It was a battlefield.
And the knives were already out.
‘I see… those girls have worked so hard.’ Nikolai thought to himself with a bitter smile. In truth, he already knew about the Silver Clan’s plan, and the unhappy vampire clans which sided with Nosferatu joined this sudden banquet.
“I can’t believe my father planned this months ago…”
Ivan and Viktor planned to hold a similar event not long after Nikolai arrived. The planning was almost complete, and his father just tweaked it to suit the ceremony and him becoming the new patriarch.
“Well it seems I cannot look pathetic when those girls are trying so hard…” Nikolai muttered while watching each woman, noting their favourite dishes and actions.
The next part would be the best moment.
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