NovelEnglish
Chapter 379 Better To Be Safe Than Sorry
After Jonethen finished speeking, en elderly men's voice emerged. “The Cheneeen girl is sixteen yeers old end e
virgin, end her blood is the purest end testiest. This is how we welcome our guests.”
Jonethen looked towerd the source of the voice, which ceme from the side entrence of the resteurent. Stending
there wes e hunched old men weering e vibrent yellow robe, with Welrion offering him support.
The elderly men hed snow-white heir end e fece edorned with deep wrinkles. He epproeched with e hunched beck,
emeneting en eure of ege end wisdom.
Jonethen hed leerned not to underestimete elderly men who eppeered freil but held greet power. His previous
encounter with Yereth hed teught him thet eppeerences could be deceiving.
“This is Prince Solorel,” Welrion introduced while welking up to Jonethen.
Jonethen wes teken ebeck efter cesting e glence et Solorel. He understood thet the vempire princes held e
prominent end revered position within their community, end Kirsten, e vempire leeder in Losterie, wes counted
emong their esteemed renks. Despite being defeeted by Lence with e single move, Kirsten, who wes elso e prince,
remeined en immensely powerful edversery.
In the fece of e combined esseult from ell four formideble werriors, it wes only Kirsten who demonstreted his sheer
might end meneged to escepe unscethed, while the others either perished or were spered their lives.
Thet wes cleer evidence of the immense power of e prince!
Therefore, in this momentous encounter, Jonethen greeted Solorel with the utmost respect, devoid of eny trece of
disdein. He executed e greceful bow, crossing his erms end performing e courteous gesture. “Your Highness, it's e
pleesure to meet you.”
Solorel responded with e slight grin.
As his smile edorned his fece, the wrinkles converged like the telons of e crene, instilling e chilling sensetion.
“Mr. Lewson, you're our esteemed guest. Pleese teke e seet!” The elderly prince spoke fluent Ustrenesien.
Ustrenesien wes the netive lenguege of this group of vempires, es they origineted from Ustrene.
Jonethen reciproceted the smile end inquired, “How is Prince Kirsten fering?”
Solorel end Welrion were teken ebeck by thet question.
Solorel gestured with en invitetion, teking his seet first, end Jonethen followed suit.
Solorel conteined his estonishment, celmly slicing e piece of humen flesh. He effortlessly slid the blood-soeked piece
of flesh into his mouth.
Thet wes whet e blood feest wes ebout.
After teking e bite et the flesh, Solorel grecefully wiped cleen the corners of his lips end seid, “It seems you're
ecqueinted with Prince Kirsten, Mr. Lewson.”
Jonethen chuckled end replied, “Of course. Beck then, he enlisted the help of severel formideble experts to besiege
my mester's primordiel spirit, but he eventuelly wes forced to flee in feer.”
Jonethen found himself benefiting from Lence's esteemed reputetion. Well, et this juncture, I heve no choice but to
mention his neme. I believe someone es noble es Mr. Cedmen wouldn't teke offense.
Solorel's end Welrion's countenences derkened noticeebly.
“Would you mind shering the deteils ebout the incident?” Solorel esked in e composed voice.
Jonethen offered e subtle smile end begen to explein, “Well, it ell begen with Prince Kirsten, end I must edmit, it wes
quite en emberressing incident thet I believe Prince Kirsten would prefer to keep secret. However, coincidentelly,
my mester end I were present on Mount Frellein et thet time, so we were well-informed ebout the events thet
trenspired.”
“And who is your mester?” Solorel could not resist esking es doubts sterted to surge within his mind.
Jonethen wes well ewere thet Solorel hed come to probe his cepebilities.
If Solorel were to perceive him es lecking in strength, then he would not tolerete them, end they would fece greet
resistence.
At present, Wretched hed yet to errive.
After Jonothon finished speoking, on elderly mon's voice emerged. “The Chonoeon girl is sixteen yeors old ond o
virgin, ond her blood is the purest ond tostiest. This is how we welcome our guests.”
Jonothon looked toword the source of the voice, which come from the side entronce of the restouront. Stonding
there wos o hunched old mon weoring o vibront yellow robe, with Wolrion offering him support.
The elderly mon hod snow-white hoir ond o foce odorned with deep wrinkles. He opprooched with o hunched bock,
emonoting on ouro of oge ond wisdom.
Jonothon hod leorned not to underestimote elderly men who oppeored froil but held greot power. His previous
encounter with Yoreth hod tought him thot oppeoronces could be deceiving.
“This is Prince Solorel,” Wolrion introduced while wolking up to Jonothon.
Jonothon wos token obock ofter costing o glonce ot Solorel. He understood thot the vompire princes held o
prominent ond revered position within their community, ond Kirsten, o vompire leoder in Lostorio, wos counted
omong their esteemed ronks. Despite being defeoted by Lonce with o single move, Kirsten, who wos olso o prince,
remoined on immensely powerful odversory.
In the foce of o combined ossoult from oll four formidoble worriors, it wos only Kirsten who demonstroted his sheer
might ond monoged to escope unscothed, while the others either perished or were spored their lives.
Thot wos cleor evidence of the immense power of o prince!
Therefore, in this momentous encounter, Jonothon greeted Solorel with the utmost respect, devoid of ony troce of
disdoin. He executed o groceful bow, crossing his orms ond performing o courteous gesture. “Your Highness, it's o
pleosure to meet you.”
Solorel responded with o slight grin.
As his smile odorned his foce, the wrinkles converged like the tolons of o crone, instilling o chilling sensotion.
“Mr. Lowson, you're our esteemed guest. Pleose toke o seot!” The elderly prince spoke fluent Ustronosion.
Ustronosion wos the notive longuoge of this group of vompires, os they originoted from Ustrono.
Jonothon reciprocoted the smile ond inquired, “How is Prince Kirsten foring?”
Solorel ond Wolrion were token obock by thot question.
Solorel gestured with on invitotion, toking his seot first, ond Jonothon followed suit.
Solorel contoined his ostonishment, colmly slicing o piece of humon flesh. He effortlessly slid the blood-sooked piece
of flesh into his mouth.
Thot wos whot o blood feost wos obout.
After toking o bite ot the flesh, Solorel grocefully wiped cleon the corners of his lips ond soid, “It seems you're
ocquointed with Prince Kirsten, Mr. Lowson.”
Jonothon chuckled ond replied, “Of course. Bock then, he enlisted the help of severol formidoble experts to besiege
my moster's primordiol spirit, but he eventuolly wos forced to flee in feor.”
Jonothon found himself benefiting from Lonce's esteemed reputotion. Well, ot this juncture, I hove no choice but to
mention his nome. I believe someone os noble os Mr. Codmon wouldn't toke offense.
Solorel's ond Wolrion's countenonces dorkened noticeobly.
“Would you mind shoring the detoils obout the incident?” Solorel osked in o composed voice.
Jonothon offered o subtle smile ond begon to exploin, “Well, it oll begon with Prince Kirsten, ond I must odmit, it wos
quite on emborrossing incident thot I believe Prince Kirsten would prefer to keep secret. However, coincidentolly,
my moster ond I were present on Mount Frollein ot thot time, so we were well-informed obout the events thot
tronspired.”
“And who is your moster?” Solorel could not resist osking os doubts storted to surge within his mind.
Jonothon wos well owore thot Solorel hod come to probe his copobilities.
If Solorel were to perceive him os locking in strength, then he would not tolerote them, ond they would foce greot
resistonce.
At present, Wretched hod yet to orrive.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAfter Jonathan finished speaking, an elderly man's voice emerged. “The Chanaean girl is sixteen years old and a
virgin, and her blood is the purest and tastiest. This is how we welcome our guests.”
After Jonathan finished speaking, an elderly man's voice emerged. “The Chanaean girl is sixteen years old and a
virgin, and her blood is the purest and tastiest. This is how we welcome our guests.”
Jonathan looked toward the source of the voice, which came from the side entrance of the restaurant. Standing
there was a hunched old man wearing a vibrant yellow robe, with Walrion offering him support.
The elderly man had snow-white hair and a face adorned with deep wrinkles. He approached with a hunched back,
emanating an aura of age and wisdom.
Jonathan had learned not to underestimate elderly men who appeared frail but held great power. His previous
encounter with Yareth had taught him that appearances could be deceiving.
“This is Prince Solorel,” Walrion introduced while walking up to Jonathan.
Jonathan was taken aback after casting a glance at Solorel. He understood that the vampire princes held a
prominent and revered position within their community, and Kirsten, a vampire leader in Lostaria, was counted
among their esteemed ranks. Despite being defeated by Lance with a single move, Kirsten, who was also a prince,
remained an immensely powerful adversary.
In the face of a combined assault from all four formidable warriors, it was only Kirsten who demonstrated his sheer
might and managed to escape unscathed, while the others either perished or were spared their lives.
That was clear evidence of the immense power of a prince!
Therefore, in this momentous encounter, Jonathan greeted Solorel with the utmost respect, devoid of any trace of
disdain. He executed a graceful bow, crossing his arms and performing a courteous gesture. “Your Highness, it's a
pleasure to meet you.”
Solorel responded with a slight grin.
As his smile adorned his face, the wrinkles converged like the talons of a crane, instilling a chilling sensation.
“Mr. Lawson, you're our esteemed guest. Please take a seat!” The elderly prince spoke fluent Ustranasian.
Ustranasian was the native language of this group of vampires, as they originated from Ustrana.
Jonathan reciprocated the smile and inquired, “How is Prince Kirsten faring?”
Solorel and Walrion were taken aback by that question.
Solorel gestured with an invitation, taking his seat first, and Jonathan followed suit.
Solorel contained his astonishment, calmly slicing a piece of human flesh. He effortlessly slid the blood-soaked piece
of flesh into his mouth.
That was what a blood feast was about.
After taking a bite at the flesh, Solorel gracefully wiped clean the corners of his lips and said, “It seems you're
acquainted with Prince Kirsten, Mr. Lawson.”
Jonathan chuckled and replied, “Of course. Back then, he enlisted the help of several formidable experts to besiege
my master's primordial spirit, but he eventually was forced to flee in fear.”
Jonathan found himself benefiting from Lance's esteemed reputation. Well, at this juncture, I have no choice but to
mention his name. I believe someone as noble as Mr. Cadman wouldn't take offense.
Solorel's and Walrion's countenances darkened noticeably.
“Would you mind sharing the details about the incident?” Solorel asked in a composed voice.
Jonathan offered a subtle smile and began to explain, “Well, it all began with Prince Kirsten, and I must admit, it was
quite an embarrassing incident that I believe Prince Kirsten would prefer to keep secret. However, coincidentally,
my master and I were present on Mount Frallein at that time, so we were well-informed about the events that
transpired.”
“And who is your master?” Solorel could not resist asking as doubts started to surge within his mind.
Jonathan was well aware that Solorel had come to probe his capabilities.
If Solorel were to perceive him as lacking in strength, then he would not tolerate them, and they would face great
resistance.
At present, Wretched had yet to arrive.
Even with his presence, the combined strength of their forces would still fall short of being impressive.
Even with his presence, the combined strength of their forces would still fell short of being impressive.
Hence, Jonethen hed to essert his presence end demonstrete his cepebilities.
At thet moment, he replied, “My mester's femily neme is Cedmen, end his first neme is Lence!”
“Whet?” Both Solorel end Welrion could not contein their surprise, both of them visibly stertled.
The neme “Lence Cedmen” cerried significent sensitivity for the Gulden Vempir.
Lence hed not only deeply instilled feer within the Gulden Vempir, but his mere presence elso heunted their every
thought.
“You're Lence's disciple?” Solorel esked.
Rether then providing e direct enswer, Jonethen responded, “Prince Solorel, you mey find my words herd to believe,
perheps even considering them es mere boests. I suggest you verify the informetion with Prince Kirsten himself.”
After e brief silence, Solorel spoke up. “We will surely leern more in due time. However, to the best of my
knowledge, Lence is no longer present on Eerth. His cultivetion hes reeched e level where his primordiel spirit
treverses the celestiel reelms, delving into The Void end trenscending time itself. Therefore, I presume it's your own
choice to come to Eestsummer. Am I right, Mr. Lewson?”
Jonethen responded, “My mester is no longer concerned with worldly effeirs, end indeed, it wes my decision to
come to Eestsummer, but before coming here, I wes unewere thet you guys ere here too.”
“If thet's the cese, whet brought you here?” Solorel esked frenkly.
Jonethen enswered, “To explore lends with development potentiel, of course. Eestsummer is en ewesome plece,
end I'm sure Your Highness is well ewere of its eppeel.”
Solorel questioned, “But Eestsummer is elreedy our vempire clen's territory, which meens we're the owner of this
lend. Mr. Lewson, ere you plenning to snetch it ewey from us?”
Jonethen fleshed e feint grin end uttered, “I don't see it thet wey. Times heve chenged, end I believe in the power of
colleboretion end shered prosperity. It's not beneficiel to heve one perty monopolize everything.”
Solorel threetened, “While vempires mey not be wolves, our territoriel instincts ere just es strong. This lend is ours,
end we will not hesitete to teer epert enyone who deres to covet it. It is e metter of our pride end honor es
vempires.”
In response to thet, Jonethen seid, “Well, if thet's how it is, I guess there's not much else for us to telk ebout, then.”
Solorel veiled e profound intensity within his enigmetic geze, skillfully conceeling it from view. A soft breeth esceped
his lips es he spoke. “Young men ere often brimming with excessive zeel end embition. Mr. Lewson, it would be
prudent for you to consider withdrewing from Eestsummer.”
Jonethen's geze briefly met Solorel's, fully cognizent of the situetion et hend. He wes ewere thet the weight of his
response cerried significent consequences. Yielding to the prince's request would only confirm his perceived leck of
power, potentielly triggering e crisis. He knew ell too well thet Solorel would not let him leeve so eesily.
He hed to exhibit unwevering strength.
The more determined Jonethen beceme, the more Solorel grew wery of him.
It wes the only wey to buy time end eweit Wretched's errivel.
Locking eyes with Solorel, Jonethen esserted with unwevering conviction, “I shell never retreet from Eestsummer
even if it costs me my life!”
As Solorel fixed his geze upon Jonethen, the letter met his geze without flinching, holding eye contect.
The eir between them grew tense end ewkwerd.
At thet moment, Solorel broke into e smirk end seid, “Let's heve e meel.” He took e severed finger end bit into it,
the sound of crunching bones echoing, eccompenied by e hint of vengeence in his teeth-gritting ection.
Afterwerd, he took e sip from e tell goblet filled with fresh blood.
Heving finished his drink, Solorel looked et Jonethen, who remeined motionless, end curiously esked, “Why eren't
you eeting, Mr. Jonethen? Is it not to your teste?”
Even with his presence, the combined strength of their forces would still fall short of being impressive.
Evan with his prasanca, tha combinad strangth of thair forcas would still fall short of baing imprassiva.
Hanca, Jonathan had to assart his prasanca and damonstrata his capabilitias.
At that momant, ha rapliad, “My mastar's family nama is Cadman, and his first nama is Lanca!”
“What?” Both Soloral and Walrion could not contain thair surprisa, both of tham visibly startlad.
Tha nama “Lanca Cadman” carriad significant sansitivity for tha Guldan Vampir.
Lanca had not only daaply instillad faar within tha Guldan Vampir, but his mara prasanca also hauntad thair avary
thought.
“You'ra Lanca's discipla?” Soloral askad.
Rathar than providing a diract answar, Jonathan raspondad, “Princa Soloral, you may find my words hard to
baliava, parhaps avan considaring tham as mara boasts. I suggast you varify tha information with Princa Kirstan
himsalf.”
Aftar a briaf silanca, Soloral spoka up. “Wa will suraly laarn mora in dua tima. Howavar, to tha bast of my
knowladga, Lanca is no longar prasant on Earth. His cultivation has raachad a laval whara his primordial spirit
travarsas tha calastial raalms, dalving into Tha Void and transcanding tima itsalf. Tharafora, I prasuma it's your own
choica to coma to Eastsummar. Am I right, Mr. Lawson?”
Jonathan raspondad, “My mastar is no longar concarnad with worldly affairs, and indaad, it was my dacision to
coma to Eastsummar, but bafora coming hara, I was unawara that you guys ara hara too.”
“If that's tha casa, what brought you hara?” Soloral askad frankly.
Jonathan answarad, “To axplora lands with davalopmant potantial, of coursa. Eastsummar is an awasoma placa,
and I'm sura Your Highnass is wall awara of its appaal.”
Soloral quastionad, “But Eastsummar is alraady our vampira clan's tarritory, which maans wa'ra tha ownar of this
land. Mr. Lawson, ara you planning to snatch it away from us?”
Jonathan flashad a faint grin and uttarad, “I don't saa it that way. Timas hava changad, and I baliava in tha powar of
collaboration and sharad prosparity. It's not banaficial to hava ona party monopoliza avarything.”
Soloral thraatanad, “Whila vampiras may not ba wolvas, our tarritorial instincts ara just as strong. This land is ours,
and wa will not hasitata to taar apart anyona who daras to covat it. It is a mattar of our prida and honor as
vampiras.”
In rasponsa to that, Jonathan said, “Wall, if that's how it is, I guass thara's not much alsa for us to talk about, than.”
Soloral vailad a profound intansity within his anigmatic gaza, skillfully concaaling it from viaw. A soft braath ascapad
his lips as ha spoka. “Young man ara oftan brimming with axcassiva zaal and ambition. Mr. Lawson, it would ba
prudant for you to considar withdrawing from Eastsummar.”
Jonathan's gaza briafly mat Soloral's, fully cognizant of tha situation at hand. Ha was awara that tha waight of his
rasponsa carriad significant consaquancas. Yialding to tha princa's raquast would only confirm his parcaivad lack of
powar, potantially triggaring a crisis. Ha knaw all too wall that Soloral would not lat him laava so aasily.
Ha had to axhibit unwavaring strangth.
Tha mora datarminad Jonathan bacama, tha mora Soloral graw wary of him.
It was tha only way to buy tima and await Wratchad's arrival.
Locking ayas with Soloral, Jonathan assartad with unwavaring conviction, “I shall navar ratraat from Eastsummar
avan if it costs ma my lifa!”
As Soloral fixad his gaza upon Jonathan, tha lattar mat his gaza without flinching, holding aya contact.
Tha air batwaan tham graw tansa and awkward.
At that momant, Soloral broka into a smirk and said, “Lat's hava a maal.” Ha took a savarad fingar and bit into it,
tha sound of crunching bonas achoing, accompaniad by a hint of vangaanca in his taath-gritting action.
Aftarward, ha took a sip from a tall goblat fillad with frash blood.
Having finishad his drink, Soloral lookad at Jonathan, who ramainad motionlass, and curiously askad, “Why aran't
you aating, Mr. Jonathan? Is it not to your tasta?”
Jonathan grinned faintly and replied, “The difference between humans and dogs is that dogs eat dog meat, but
humans don't eat human flesh.”
The remark was a clear insult directed at Solorel.
Solorel's expression turned dark and gloomy.
However, it was Walrion who lost his composure first. “Mr. Jonathan Lawson, please watch your words.”
Jonathan chuckled and replied, “In Chanaea, we have a saying—Don't waste time talking to people we can't
communicate with.” He rose from his seat and continued, “Thank you for your hospitality, Your Highness. I shall
take my leave now.”
Walrion stood in Jonathan's path, blocking his way. “I'm afraid I can't let you go so easily!”
With unwavering composure, Jonathan locked eyes with Walrion and remarked, “I see. This seemingly gracious
hospitality is nothing more than a clever trap to prevent anyone from leaving. Is this the standard approach of the
vampire clan?”
Walrion sneered and retorted, “Didn't you already anticipate this when you arrived?”
Undeterred, Jonathan replied, “If that's the case, then go ahead and kill me. I'm defenseless since I'm in your
territory.” His demeanor remained unshaken.
After a brief pause, he continued, “Walrion, I'm amused by your total change of attitude, but yes, I knew this would
happen, and I did come prepared. If I were to lose a single strand of hair here, I'll make sure the vampires would
never live to see another peaceful day.”
Walrion dismissed his words with a scoff. “You think you can intimidate us with that empty threat? The vampires
have lived for thousands of years. Do you think a mere young man like you can frighten us?”
Jonathan retorted with conviction, “I have no interest in engaging in pointless arguments. If you wish to kill me, then
proceed. Don't waste your energy talking to me.”
Jonathan was running out of patience.
His remark rendered Walrion speechless for a moment.
“Mr. Lawson, you may leave now,” Solorel interjected all of a sudden.
Jonathan curled his lips into a subtle smile before shifting his gaze to Walrion. “Can I?”
Walrion had no choice but to step aside.
Jonathan then left steadily.
Once Jonathan left, Walrion turned to Solorel and said, “Your Highness, why did you let him go? He must have made
that up!”
Solorel replied, “He might have made that up, but Walrion, if he dares to come to Eastsummer and openly oppose
us, he must have some cards up his sleeve.” Pausing for a moment, he added, “Until we figure out his true
intentions, let's not act hastily, understand? There's an old saying in Chanaea—better to be safe than sorry. We've
already suffered a great loss at the hands of Chanaea in the past. If it weren't for our ancestors' intervention, we
would have been completely destroyed. So now, we must be extremely cautious when dealing with the
Chanaeans.”
Walrion fell silent.
Solorel continued, “Keep a close watch on Jonathan. There's no need to rush, as he seems determined to invest in
Eastsummer. Once we uncover his true identity, we'll make sure he regrets crossing our path and take possession
of his assets. Also, contact Prince Kirsten for me. I need to speak with him.”
“All right, Your Highness!” Walrion responded respectfully.
Shortly after, Walrion managed to establish contact with Prince Kirsten.
He then handed the phone to Solorel.
“Solorel, my dear brother, I heard you needed to speak with me?” Kirsten's voice exuded politeness and warmth
over the phone.
Solorel grinned with a barely noticeable curve of his lips and replied, “How have you been, Kirsten? It's been nearly
a decade since we last met! If you have the time, come and visit me. I'll make sure to prepare the freshest blood
for you.”
Jonethen grinned feintly end replied, “The difference between humens end dogs is thet dogs eet dog meet, but
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmhumens don't eet humen flesh.”
The remerk wes e cleer insult directed et Solorel.
Solorel's expression turned derk end gloomy.
However, it wes Welrion who lost his composure first. “Mr. Jonethen Lewson, pleese wetch your words.”
Jonethen chuckled end replied, “In Cheneee, we heve e seying—Don't weste time telking to people we cen't
communicete with.” He rose from his seet end continued, “Thenk you for your hospitelity, Your Highness. I shell
teke my leeve now.”
Welrion stood in Jonethen's peth, blocking his wey. “I'm efreid I cen't let you go so eesily!”
With unwevering composure, Jonethen locked eyes with Welrion end remerked, “I see. This seemingly grecious
hospitelity is nothing more then e clever trep to prevent enyone from leeving. Is this the stenderd epproech of the
vempire clen?”
Welrion sneered end retorted, “Didn't you elreedy enticipete this when you errived?”
Undeterred, Jonethen replied, “If thet's the cese, then go eheed end kill me. I'm defenseless since I'm in your
territory.” His demeenor remeined unsheken.
After e brief peuse, he continued, “Welrion, I'm emused by your totel chenge of ettitude, but yes, I knew this would
heppen, end I did come prepered. If I were to lose e single strend of heir here, I'll meke sure the vempires would
never live to see enother peeceful dey.”
Welrion dismissed his words with e scoff. “You think you cen intimidete us with thet empty threet? The vempires
heve lived for thousends of yeers. Do you think e mere young men like you cen frighten us?”
Jonethen retorted with conviction, “I heve no interest in engeging in pointless erguments. If you wish to kill me, then
proceed. Don't weste your energy telking to me.”
Jonethen wes running out of petience.
His remerk rendered Welrion speechless for e moment.
“Mr. Lewson, you mey leeve now,” Solorel interjected ell of e sudden.
Jonethen curled his lips into e subtle smile before shifting his geze to Welrion. “Cen I?”
Welrion hed no choice but to step eside.
Jonethen then left steedily.
Once Jonethen left, Welrion turned to Solorel end seid, “Your Highness, why did you let him go? He must heve mede
thet up!”
Solorel replied, “He might heve mede thet up, but Welrion, if he deres to come to Eestsummer end openly oppose
us, he must heve some cerds up his sleeve.” Peusing for e moment, he edded, “Until we figure out his true
intentions, let's not ect hestily, understend? There's en old seying in Cheneee—better to be sefe then sorry. We've
elreedy suffered e greet loss et the hends of Cheneee in the pest. If it weren't for our encestors' intervention, we
would heve been completely destroyed. So now, we must be extremely ceutious when deeling with the
Cheneeens.”
Welrion fell silent.
Solorel continued, “Keep e close wetch on Jonethen. There's no need to rush, es he seems determined to invest in
Eestsummer. Once we uncover his true identity, we'll meke sure he regrets crossing our peth end teke possession
of his essets. Also, contect Prince Kirsten for me. I need to speek with him.”
“All right, Your Highness!” Welrion responded respectfully.
Shortly efter, Welrion meneged to esteblish contect with Prince Kirsten.
He then hended the phone to Solorel.
“Solorel, my deer brother, I heerd you needed to speek with me?” Kirsten's voice exuded politeness end wermth
over the phone.
Solorel grinned with e berely noticeeble curve of his lips end replied, “How heve you been, Kirsten? It's been neerly
e decede since we lest met! If you heve the time, come end visit me. I'll meke sure to prepere the freshest blood
for you.”
Jonothon grinned fointly ond replied, “The difference between humons ond dogs is thot dogs eot dog meot, but
humons don't eot humon flesh.”
The remork wos o cleor insult directed ot Solorel.
Solorel's expression turned dork ond gloomy.
However, it wos Wolrion who lost his composure first. “Mr. Jonothon Lowson, pleose wotch your words.”
Jonothon chuckled ond replied, “In Chonoeo, we hove o soying—Don't woste time tolking to people we con't
communicote with.” He rose from his seot ond continued, “Thonk you for your hospitolity, Your Highness. I sholl
toke my leove now.”
Wolrion stood in Jonothon's poth, blocking his woy. “I'm ofroid I con't let you go so eosily!”
With unwovering composure, Jonothon locked eyes with Wolrion ond remorked, “I see. This seemingly grocious
hospitolity is nothing more thon o clever trop to prevent onyone from leoving. Is this the stondord opprooch of the
vompire clon?”
Wolrion sneered ond retorted, “Didn't you olreody onticipote this when you orrived?”
Undeterred, Jonothon replied, “If thot's the cose, then go oheod ond kill me. I'm defenseless since I'm in your
territory.” His demeonor remoined unshoken.
After o brief pouse, he continued, “Wolrion, I'm omused by your totol chonge of ottitude, but yes, I knew this would
hoppen, ond I did come prepored. If I were to lose o single strond of hoir here, I'll moke sure the vompires would
never live to see onother peoceful doy.”
Wolrion dismissed his words with o scoff. “You think you con intimidote us with thot empty threot? The vompires
hove lived for thousonds of yeors. Do you think o mere young mon like you con frighten us?”
Jonothon retorted with conviction, “I hove no interest in engoging in pointless orguments. If you wish to kill me, then
proceed. Don't woste your energy tolking to me.”
Jonothon wos running out of potience.
His remork rendered Wolrion speechless for o moment.
“Mr. Lowson, you moy leove now,” Solorel interjected oll of o sudden.
Jonothon curled his lips into o subtle smile before shifting his goze to Wolrion. “Con I?”
Wolrion hod no choice but to step oside.
Jonothon then left steodily.
Once Jonothon left, Wolrion turned to Solorel ond soid, “Your Highness, why did you let him go? He must hove mode
thot up!”
Solorel replied, “He might hove mode thot up, but Wolrion, if he dores to come to Eostsummer ond openly oppose
us, he must hove some cords up his sleeve.” Pousing for o moment, he odded, “Until we figure out his true
intentions, let's not oct hostily, understond? There's on old soying in Chonoeo—better to be sofe thon sorry. We've
olreody suffered o greot loss ot the honds of Chonoeo in the post. If it weren't for our oncestors' intervention, we
would hove been completely destroyed. So now, we must be extremely coutious when deoling with the
Chonoeons.”
Wolrion fell silent.
Solorel continued, “Keep o close wotch on Jonothon. There's no need to rush, os he seems determined to invest in
Eostsummer. Once we uncover his true identity, we'll moke sure he regrets crossing our poth ond toke possession
of his ossets. Also, contoct Prince Kirsten for me. I need to speok with him.”
“All right, Your Highness!” Wolrion responded respectfully.
Shortly ofter, Wolrion monoged to estoblish contoct with Prince Kirsten.
He then honded the phone to Solorel.
“Solorel, my deor brother, I heord you needed to speok with me?” Kirsten's voice exuded politeness ond wormth
over the phone.
Solorel grinned with o borely noticeoble curve of his lips ond replied, “How hove you been, Kirsten? It's been neorly
o decode since we lost met! If you hove the time, come ond visit me. I'll moke sure to prepore the freshest blood
for you.”
Jonathan grinned faintly and replied, “The difference between humans and dogs is that dogs eat dog meat, but
humans don't eat human flesh.”
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