Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise! - Chapter 367

Chapter 367: Vampire Dog Chapter 367: Vampire Dog The training hall seemed to darken as Abaddon stepped forward, towering over the unconscious Blood Burn Fiend.

The air grew thick with oppressive energy, a cold, suffocating presence that made even Shez his wife and Pyris tense up.

He raised his hand, his fingers curling into a claw-like gesture.

A deep, guttural chant rumbled from his throat, spoken in a language that felt ancient-primal.

The shadows around him twisted unnaturally, writhing like living things, slithering across the floor and converging upon the helpless vampire.

A dark sigil, pulsating with crimson and abyssal energy, etched itself onto Blood Burn Fiend’s chest, sinking into his very being.

His body convulsed violently, his veins turning black as the enslavement took hold.

Blood-red chains, formed from pure will and domination, erupted from Abaddon’s outstretched hand, coiling around the vampire’s limbs, sinking into his flesh.

The moment the chains made contact, Blood Burn Fiend’s mouth opened in a silent scream-his very soul being branded into submission.

His bloodred eyes shot open, now completely devoid of free will.

Abaddon’s voice was cold and final.

“You belong to me now vampire.” Blood Burn Fiend shuddered, his body twitching as the last remnants of resistance snapped like brittle glass.

The seal locked into place, invisible to the untrained eye, but absolute.

Mira and Shez exhaled slowly.

The silence in the training hall was thick as Blood Burn Fiend’s body twitched violently.

His breathing was ragged, his fingers clawing at the stone floor as if trying to resist the inevitable.

But it was futile.

The moment Abaddon’s enslavement had settled into his very being, his fate was sealed.

With a deep, shuddering gasp, his eyes snapped open-glowing red, but devoid of their former malice.

Instead of the ruthless, bloodthirsty assassin who had once carried Dracula’s will, there was now only submission.

Blood Burn Fiend jerked forward, his body trembling as the command forced itself into his mind.

He fought against it-his instincts as a vampire, as a predator, telling him to resist.

But the chains that bound him weren’t physical.

They were woven into his soul, more absolute than the rule of blood itself.

A deep growl rumbled in his throat, his fangs elongating for a moment in instinctual defiance.

His body burned from within-his very nature rejecting the idea of servitude.

A vampire, especially one of his caliber, was never meant to kneel.

Only kneel and submit to their master-Dracula.

And yet… His muscles locked, his will crushed under the weight of the seal.

His own mind was now foreign territory, invaded by Abaddon’s dominance.

Every fiber of his being screamed at him to rise, to fight, but the compulsion was absolute.

Then, the final shatter.

His pride snapped like brittle glass, and a vicious snarl twisted into a grimace of defeat.

Blood Burn Fiend, the feared assassin of Dracula, lowered his head.

Then, he did the unthinkable.

He dropped to one knee.

His hand clenched into a trembling fist over his chest, the symbol of a warrior acknowledging his master.

The once-mighty assassin’s fangs were still bared, but they were no longer a sign of aggression-they were a mark of submission.

“Master…” His voice was hoarse, rough with the remnants of rebellion that still flickered in his soul.

His crimson eyes flicked toward Pyris-who stood behind Abaddon, watching with amused detachment-and for the briefest moment, a flicker of resentment burned there.

But then, even that emotion faded.

Abaddon stepped forward, towering over his new slave, his voice a low growl of satisfaction.

“Good.” He tilted his head slightly, crimson energy still humming in his fingertips.

“You fought well… but your kind were always meat to break at one time.” Blood Burn Fiend gritted his teeth but said nothing.

His instincts told him to hate this.

But the weight of the seal forced him into obedience, crushing any remnants of resistance.

Pyris chuckled, stepping closer, his golden eyes gleaming.

“See?

That wasn’t so hard, was it?” His voice was mocking, but there was a glint of dangerous amusement behind it.

“Now, let’s see if you’re as useful to me as you were to Dracula.” Blood Burn Fiend said nothing, only lowering his head deeper in acceptance.

A vampire who once hunted in the name of the night… Now nothing more than a hound on a leash.

Pyris leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as he gave Blood Burn Fiend one last glance.

His golden eyes gleamed with an unreadable expression-detached, yet entirely in control.

“Abaddon,” he spoke, his voice as smooth as a blade sliding from its sheath, “take him.

Extract as much information as he can give.

If it’s not useful enough…

kill him.” A chilling silence followed.

Blood Burn Fiend’s already cold vampire blood froze.

His body tensed, though he didn’t dare to move-not even to lift his head.

He was used to Dracula’s cruelty, to the weight of a ruler who did not tolerate failure.

But this?

This was something else.

He expected Pyris to be ruthless.

But not this ruthless.

Not in the way that made his instincts scream in warning, in the way that made him realize this wasn’t just another powerful young lord-this was something worse.

A monster wearing a noble’s skin.

Blood Burn Fiend’s breath hitched.

His mind raced, piecing together what little he could.

He had been trained, forged into a tool of destruction under Dracula’s reign.

He had seen horrors.

He had been the horror.

And yet… Even he had never been this helpless.

His crimson eyes flickered toward Abaddon-the one who now held his leash-and his heart sank further.

The weight of that gaze alone was suffocating.

Abaddon wasn’t just powerful.

He was something that lurked beyond the abyss, a force that didn’t belong in this realm.

Blood Burn Fiend had served under Dracula for centuries, believing his master to be unmatched in power.

But now, as his instincts screamed at him, he realized something horrifying.

He was wrong..He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but even Shez-the one who seemed the weakest among those around Pyris-felt like she could be stronger than Dracula himself.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

His fingers twitched.

He had no illusions about escaping.

No chance of breaking free from the seal that bound him.

He was going to be used, milked for every bit of knowledge he had, and if he wasn’t useful enough… He wouldn’t even get the honor of dying on his own terms.

Abaddon’s gaze burned into him.

A silent command.

Blood Burn Fiend flinched before his body instinctively moved, forcing himself to walk.

No- to flee.

Hurriedly, as if death itself loomed at his back.

As he disappeared into the darkness, the oppressive weight in the air lessened, but only slightly.

Now, only three figures remained.

Pyris.

Shez.

Mira.

And at their feet-Veyna lay unconscious, waiting for her fate.