The Vampire King's Pet-Chapter 368: Clearing out trash

Zyren didn’t even hesitate to head to House Elvane, aware of who each of the leaders of the hunters were, even though they all masqueraded as rich merchants.

Watching them all bow to him the moment he entered—even as Lord Elvane went ahead and showed up with his head bowed low to his chest, almost to the floor—

He looked completely calm, even though his heart couldn’t help but race in his chest. It couldn’t be a complete coincidence that the king suddenly decided to show up in his house so late at night. The torches along the grand hall flickered wildly, their flames bending as if even they feared the presence that had just stepped inside.

"My King! It is an honour to have you in my home," Lord Elvane said, his voice trembling despite his attempt to steady it.

Zyren didn’t bat an eye as he instantly gave him the order to summon every single one of the hunters that he knew.

If before he had been able to mask his fear, he could no longer do so as his hands visibly shook and he went ahead to bow his head lower, nearly pressing his forehead to the polished marble floor.

His first instinct was to completely deny what Zyren had just said, swearing on his father’s life if he had to—but his mouth had just opened when he suddenly felt a chill in the air.

One that was vicious enough for him to realize that if he indeed went ahead to lie to Zyren, not only would he lose his life—everyone would too. For there was something about the way Zyren said it that showed that he was not just pushing for answers; he was already sure.

"I won’t repeat myself," Zyren spoke again, his voice ringing out with such power and authority that Lord Elvane simply fell on his knees. The sound of fabric brushing against stone echoed loudly in the silent hall as he turned around and ordered his guards to send messages to the others to convene at his house immediately.

"All of them!" he clarified, lowering his head even as he felt Zyren’s gaze fixed directly at him as he spoke.

He wasn’t sure if Zyren indeed knew them all, but there was no doubt in his mind that if he tried to be dishonest and Zyren found out, then there would be hell to pay.

Thankfully, the guards saw the urgency in his tone as they moved quickly, sending out messages. Messengers mounted horses in haste, the pounding of hooves breaking through the night as one after the other, the hunters began to arrive at his house.

The grand doors opened repeatedly, each arrival heavier than the last.

They were shocked to see Lord Elvane kneeling on the ground—and even worse was Zyren standing right in front of him with a dark look on his face. Arun and a few others even had betrayed expressions on their faces as they looked down at Lord Elvane, who didn’t dare to meet their gaze.

If you’re trying to die...why did you have to drag us into it! they thought, fury and fear mixing uneasily in their chests, even as all of them hurriedly got on their knees and greeted the king who stood right there like an executioner waiting for his turn.

"My King!" they greeted him with low bows one after the other, their foreheads nearly touching the ground. They looked at each other cautiously, able to perceive the fear that was mirrored in all their faces as they waited for Zyren to speak.

Some were still hopeful that Elvane had simply called them because they were all influential merchants and not because of their identity as hunters.

Zyren, though, didn’t speak. He stood tall in front of them, looking down at them without opening his mouth to say a single word. The silence stretched, suffocating and deliberate.

This only made them feel even more nervous than before.

If before they had been trying to maintain a semblance of calm, soon their masks began to crumble as their hands and hearts began to thump harder and fiercer in their chests. A bead of sweat slid down Dargen’s temple. Another man swallowed audibly. The faint clinking of jewelry and trembling breath filled the hall.

Until finally, one of them cracked.

Lord Dargen opened his mouth to speak. "...My King, we are your humble servants, and if there’s a reason why you called us, then we will fulfil it!" he spoke up, desperation hidden beneath forced loyalty.

Zyren spoke even before he was done speaking.

"...and if there’s no reason?" he asked softly.

His red eyes showed a hint of cruelty that only worsened the tension in the air as he fixed his gaze on Dargen, who immediately lowered his head. The temperature in the hall seemed to drop several degrees.

"You’re hunters! Why else would I call all of you here?" he asked.

He went ahead to pull a chair, the legs screeching sharply against the marble floor as he dragged it right back to where they all knelt. The sound was jarring in the tense silence. He sat on it with his legs spread out and a slightly bored look on his face as he watched all of them gasp afresh—aghast—almost like what he said was fresh news to them.

Their acting might have been impressive under different circumstances.

They had a mix of different expressions on their faces—shock, anger, fear—but most of all, their gazes kept sliding toward Lord Elvane, who didn’t dare to meet their eyes as he lowered his head even more.

Don’t blame me! Lord Elvane thought to himself with a silent sigh. The last thing I need is for him to kill me and wipe out my bloodline.

It was something they all knew Zyren was more than capable of.

"You’ll tell me everything!" Zyren began to speak, his voice calm and almost gentle in a way that only made them feel like there was a long and sharp blade hanging right by their necks.

"...down to all your plans for me...or whatever you have planned with the werewolves!" he continued with a serious look on his face.

The word werewolves fell like a hammer.

They continued trembling on the floor, again glancing at Lord Elvane, who refused to look at anything else but the floor beneath him as he knelt on all fours, his fingers digging into the marble as though trying to steady himself.

"...Lie and you’ll die. Just to make it fun, I’ll kill one random person simply because I can!" Zyren said casually, as though discussing the weather.

A collective shudder ran through the hall.

He then turned to the guards—Lord Elvane’s own guards—and gave them instructions to get more men and bring every member of their families from each of the lords’ individual villas.

The words echoed loudly.

Not only were they rich merchants, but Lord Elvane and Lord Dargen had been rich enough to buy noble titles—something Zyren saw no reason to interfere with if it meant more money was redirected to him to grant the title.

But barely had he given out the order loudly enough when all of them began to panic, especially now that their families were involved.

"My King—please!"

"This is unnecessary!"

"They have nothing to do with this!"

Voices overlapped chaotically as several of them pressed their heads harder against the floor, fear finally overtaking whatever pride they had left.

Arun’s hands trembled violently. No... not my daughter... he thought, bile rising in his throat.

Dargen clenched his fists tightly. He wouldn’t dare... would he?

But one glance at Zyren’s face told them everything they needed to know.

He would.

And he wouldn’t hesitate.

The guards didn’t wait for further confirmation. They rushed out, armor clanking, their expressions grim as they obeyed the king’s command. The heavy doors slammed shut once more, sealing the hunters inside with the very man who now held their fates in his hands.

Zyren leaned back slightly in the chair, resting one elbow on its armrest as he looked at them one by one.

Waiting.

Watching.

Smiling faintly.

The silence that followed was far more terrifying than any scream.