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

Chapter 260: The First Blood Pact

Ulrich opened his eyes once again.

This time, he was no longer standing in the garden or being swallowed by darkness. He was dressed in entirely different clothes, luxurious garments that belonged to another era, as though he had become part of this memory instead of merely watching it unfold.

He glanced to his left and right. Andrew and Matthew stood beside him with equally bewildered expressions.

Their eyes were wide with horror, yet neither of them uttered a single word. Ulrich immediately understood why. He tried to open his mouth as well, only to realize he couldn’t move it at all.

Whatever force controlled this memory had turned them into nothing more than spectators.

Looking ahead, he finally saw the source of everyone’s attention; a magnificent throne stood at the end of the grand hall.

Every noble in the kingdom had gathered there. Ulrich immediately recognized Roanna among them, along with several princes and princesses standing behind her.

Every one of them wore the same expression, a mixture of arrogance, disgust, and barely concealed hostility as they stared toward the center of the hall.

There, King Morum and the High Concubine stood facing each other.

Their hands were joined together while dark crimson strands of blood emerged from their palms, intertwining like threads before forming a single rope that connected the two of them.

They were making the first blood pact. .

“My Lord, the False God, the one who holds the world within His grasp,” the King spoke solemnly. “I made this pact in Your name to prove my wife’s innocence. If the child growing within her womb is truly my blood, then bless this vow, bless our love, and bless our child.”

His voice gradually became quieter.

“If it is not…” The King paused.

His heterochromatic eyes, one crimson and one gold, trembled slightly as they settled upon the woman before him. There was hesitation within them. Fear. Doubt.

The High Concubine, however, never looked away. Her emerald eyes remained unwavering as she stared directly back at him.

“…then punish her,” the King continued with difficulty. “And punish whoever has deceived this vow made before You.”

The High Concubine slowly lifted her chin. “I, the High Concubine of the Morum Kingdom, swear that every word I speak is the truth. The child within my womb carries the King’s blood, and anyone who dares harm either of us shall be judged by fate itself.”

The strands of blood remained perfectly still. For a brief moment, nothing happened.

Then a moment later the entire palace shook violently.

Ulrich frowned.

‘Not again…’

This domain was becoming increasingly unstable. Every time they witnessed another fragment of the past, cracks spread further across the illusion.

At this point, he could not tell whether the domain was collapsing because it had repeated itself too many times, or because the High Concubine had been forcing this memory to replay over and over again for centuries.

Was such a thing even possible? To trap oneself inside the same moment… repeating the same tragedy endlessly while forcing anyone who entered to witness it alongside her?

Before Ulrich could think any further, every muscle in his body suddenly became rigid.

His gaze was involuntarily drawn upward. The ceiling of the palace was gone.

Instead, the sky itself split apart as though invisible hands had torn open the barrier surrounding the domain.

The massive rift stretched endlessly above them, pressing down with such overwhelming pressure that even Ulrich instinctively felt a chill run down the back of his neck.

For a moment, he thought another death awaited them.

Then something looked back. A pair of enormous golden eyes slowly opened within the darkness beyond the crack.

Ulrich never saw those eyes before in his life, but he knew who the owner was… The False God.

A voice followed or rather, countless voices speaking as one.

“The truth shall be revealed through time and blood. Those who dare betray a vow made before Me shall receive a punishment both absolute and just.”

Ding.

The clear sound of a bell echoed through the palace.

Ulrich’s vision blurred, and the scenery around him twisted violently before he found himself standing inside the Concubine’s palace once again.

“What’s happening?” Andrew’s voice trembled as he instinctively wrapped his arms around himself. “What the hell was that?”

Matthew had already fallen to one knee. He covered his mouth before violently vomiting onto the ground, his entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Even though what they had witnessed was nothing more than a memory, the presence of the False God had been enough to overwhelm the mind of an ordinary human.

Ulrich’s expression gradually darkened. “We need to leave this place.”

He looked around the peaceful garden that now felt more like a prison than a sanctuary.

“Whatever happened inside this domain was never meant to be witnessed. Every memory we’ve seen has only drawn us deeper into it, and the further we go, the more unstable this place becomes.”

His gaze drifted toward the palace in the distance. “I finally understand.”

“Those frozen people we passed on the mountain… They believed salvation was waiting for them here. Instead, they all died. Whoever owns this place never intended for anyone to reach the truth.”

Andrew silently nodded. “The crest isn’t here anyway. Let’s get out before this place kills us too.”

Ulrich agreed. At this point, surviving was far more important than uncovering every secret hidden within the domain.

However, the moment the three of them took a single step, the world around them distorted once more.

Another memory swallowed them whole.

The palace garden disappeared, replaced by a spacious bedroom filled with the cries of a newborn child. None of them could move freely. Just like before, they had become part of the memory itself, standing quietly among the servants lining the room.

The High Concubine rested against the bed, exhaustion visible on her face, yet the smile she wore was filled with unmistakable warmth. She gently cradled the infant in her arms, her eyes never leaving the tiny child as though nothing else in the world mattered.

For a brief moment, the room felt peaceful.

Then hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. The bedroom door was thrown open with enough force to slam against the wall.

“My King,” the Concubine said with a gentle smile as she looked toward the man who had just entered. “Come and look at him. Doesn’t he resemble you?”

King Iscaron hurried to her side and sat on the edge of the bed. His expression softened the moment he saw the child.

Carefully, he accepted the baby into his arms, holding him with a tenderness completely at odds with the powerful ruler he was known to be.

“My son,” he murmured, unable to hide the warmth in his voice. “I shall name you Caius, so that your days may always be filled with joy.”

The smile on his face lingered only for a moment. It disappeared just as quickly as his eyes sharpened as he turned toward the Concubine.

“But both of you have to leave, I can’t keep the princes and princesses under control any longer. They want you both dead.”