My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me

Chapter 117: Family Matter

”Damn, they’re all insane,” Fleur muttered, her eyes fixed on the sky where Ulrich and the Crow clashed midair.

Their movements blurred, smoke and flame colliding like two storms vying for dominance. The Draemir patriarch’s smoke hands tore through the Crow’s clones, ripping them apart as effortlessly as crushing moths.

Each strike thundered through the air, shaking the twisted vines below.

”Now I understand why the Corvane chose to create monsters instead of increasing their own combat skills,” she said, shaking her head.

”Training takes centuries. Creating shortcuts just takes madness.”

Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. Compared to the Crow’s overwhelming power, her own strength—polished through decades of blood and combat—felt painfully mortal, didn’t mean she was weaker than that child, it just felt like her training was useless.

Third evolution. That was her limit for now. But that thing? It was a child wielding four bloodstyles as if the world’s rules were suggestions.

’If the Corvane managed to breed ten of those creatures,’ Fleur thought grimly, even the Seven Great Covenants would be cornered.

”Ugh, I think we need to move deeper into the maze,” Lulu murmured, her soft voice breaking Fleur’s thoughts.

The pink-haired girl’s gaze flicked toward the distant explosion of smoke and fire, worry etched across her face.

”Right,” Fleur said briskly.

They started moving, cutting through the warped garden paths without another glance behind them. Ulrich was fighting, and that was reason enough to believe survival was still possible.

If anything, the Crow was the one who should be afraid.

”Hmm. Seems like the Crow lacks proper intelligence,” Fleur said absently, brushing aside a vine that tried to coil around her leg.

David frowned. ”Excuse me?” His tone spiked, defensive, as though she’d insulted him personally.

”What? It’s a fact. She was turned at a young age. Her mind never finished growing, neither empathy nor reason. That’s why it’s forbidden to turn children. They end up... feral.”

She stopped and lifted the severed head in her hand, dangling Lucien by the hair. ”Now, let’s stop chit-chatting and see if our little informant wants to be useful.”

Lucien grimaced, veins bulging under his translucent skin. ”You... Fleur, please—please turn off my pain perception! My body hurts! Something’s eating me!”

He screamed, thrashing even as only a head, his voice rasping with animal terror. ”I can feel it! It’s crawling inside me! Make it stop! Make it stop!”

Fleur watched him without a flicker of emotion. Only her eyes moved, studying him with mild interest, as though he were a curious insect writhing under glass.

”After you give me the information, I’ll do what you ask.”

”FUCK YOU!”

Lucien roared, spittle flying from his lips. His eyes were bloodshot, trembling in their sockets as he gasped for air he didn’t have.

Fleur remained silent, her face smooth as porcelain. She waited.

Minutes—or perhaps seconds—passed before his rage broke under the weight of his agony. His voice fell into a hoarse, trembling whisper.

”Fine, somewhere in this maze... there’s a golden tree. A door inside it. You can enter only with the guardian’s permission... or by defeating them.”

”Good boy.”

Without another word, she placed two fingers on his temple. Her veins seeped into him, silencing the pain receptors.

Lucien sagged, exhaling in relief. ”Thank you... thank you...” His voice cracked with exhaustion. ”I—I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

”You already have, darling. But at least you’re quiet now.”

Lulu shivered beside her. ”Do we... trust him?”

Fleur shrugged, slipping her glove back on. ”No. But if he’s lying, we’ll know soon enough. The golden tree sounds like something that reeks of Corvane aesthetics: beautiful, pointless, and full of traps.”

David crossed his arms. ”And what do we do when we find the guardian?”

”Same thing I always do. Kill it and take what we need.”

She closed her eyes and the maze unfolded in her mind. Every twist, every trap, every echo of the distant fight slid into place. She saw the Crow’s fire tearing the sky and Ulrich’s smoke answering it.

She saw the grotesque petals bursting into ash. She saw the old woman waiting by the golden tree, patient as a spider.

A grin split Fleur’s face. ”This will be fun,” she whispered.

***

”Ah, what a surprise to meet you here,” Fleur announced, voice smooth as silk as she stepped into the clearing.

David and Lulu melted into shadow, keeping low behind a ruined column. Lulu held Lucien’s head in her arms like a sick relic.

Both of them watched as Fleur ordered them to do so with reasons such as ’family matter’ and ’they will become a burden’.

The old woman turned calmly. Her face registered surprise for only a breath, then steadied as if this outcome had been expected all along.

”Ah, you are here, my daughter. How are you and your father? Getting along without me?” Sarah’s eyes gleamed with amusement.

Fleur’s composure cracked. She spat on the dirt. ”I am not your daughter anymore. I am here to kill you.”

Sarah laughed. ”There is the spirit of your father’s blood. But unlike him, you are rude and lacking in elegance. Where did you learn such manners?”

”Shut up,” Fleur snapped. ”You love to talk. I will see if your tongue still moves when I destroy your mind.”

”Violence before courtesy. How very Draemir of you. You think to kill me in a clearing that hums with my ward? Foolish daughter.”

The vines shifted before Fleur could even blink. The ground beneath her boots pulsed like a living heart. Flowers bloomed in seconds, roses of black and crimson. From above, the maze walls bent inward, closing them off from the sky.

Sarah spread her arms lazily. ”You walk into my garden and expect to kill me with brute strength? Oh, darling. You’ve learned nothing.”

Thorns erupted from the soil, twisting like serpents. Fleur leapt backward, her boots scraping over roots that moved like coiling veins.

One vine snapped toward her neck, but her body melted into motion. Her arm stretched, veins unspooling from her wrist in a whip of glistening crimson.

It lashed across the vine and split it apart, the sap spraying like blood.

”Still hiding behind your garden tricks?” Fleur hissed, landing on a mound of blooming lilies. ”I thought you at least had the decency to fight yourself.”

Sarah tilted her head, her pale hair glinting in the eerie green light. ”Why should I dirty my hands when the entire garden is my body?”

The words proved true. Roots surged again, dozens this time, coiling toward Fleur from every direction.

The vines didn’t just attack; they thought, weaving patterns that boxed her in. Fleur ducked, rolled, destroying them with brute force, her veins whipping out like serpents.

Each time she cut them, they regrew faster.

”Persistent bitch,” Fleur muttered, gritting her teeth.

She flung her arm out, and the veins that trailed from her wrist burrowed into the earth like living worms. They spread fast, too fast for the vines to stop, and reached Sarah’s direction.

Sarah’s smirk faltered. ”What—”

The veins shot from the ground beneath her, wrapping around her ankles and slithering up her legs.

Fleur’s eyes flashed. ”You think you’re the only one who knows how to use the field?”

Her voice lowered to a whisper. ”Let me in.”

The veins reached Sarah’s skull in a blink, latching onto her temples. Fleur’s power surged, the psychic pulse hit like a hammer, flooding Sarah’s mind with foreign static.

For an instant, she saw her own memories spilling out: when she was a human, meeting her husband and turning into a vampire, raising Fleur before turning her too, and in the end she still betrayed them.

Sarah gasped, clutching her head as her garden convulsed. Flowers wilted. The walls of the maze trembled.

”Stop—” she rasped.

Fleur stepped closer, her voice low. ”Oh, so you still have good memories in your head and still destroy our trust? Why did you do it? Why betray us?!.”

She drove her mental claws deeper. Sarah’s body stiffened; blood dripped from her nose. Inside her head, Fleur walked through the corridors of her mind, smashing memories like glass.

But then, the roots screamed. The vines around Fleur suddenly surged with a violent pulse, brighter, sharper. They split open, revealing glowing seed-like cores that began to vibrate.

”You think I’m that easy to uproot?” Sarah’s voice came again.

Her physical form slumped leaving the husk of her, but the entire maze began to breathe.

Fleur’s veins recoiled as the vines burst into flame: not red, but green. Liquid chlorophyll fire spilled over the floor.

She hissed and tore herself free just in time before the ground exploded into a tidal wave of blossoms and thorns.

Sarah stood again, half her face darkened by the burns of psychic backlash, but her eyes glowed. The plants wrapped around her limbs, fusing into living armor that pulsed like veins.

”Impressive, Fleur. You’ve grown cruel. Beautifully cruel.”

Fleur spat blood and grinned. ”Takes one to raise one.”

”Then I suppose it’s only fair that I stop holding back.”

From within her robes, she pulled a small vial of shimmering green liquid. Without hesitation, she uncorked it and drank.

The garden screamed.

Every flower in the maze turned toward them at once, petals peeling open to reveal glowing cores. The air warped with pressure, and Sarah’s skin began to split like bark, golden veins crawling up her throat and arms.

”Stage four?” Fleur muttered, stepping back instinctively.

Sarah’s voice deepened, distorted with layered tones. ”No, my dear. Just a little help.”

The ground ruptured. Vines taller than towers rose, their tips burning with light. Fleur braced herself, but for the first time, her heart stuttered.

Sarah smiled, her eyes twin suns of green fire. ”Now, my daughter, let’s see how much your evolution is worth.”