Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

Keshram returned to Twilight Continent with the cold treaty scroll and an even colder heart.

He presented the Supreme Council's "ultimatum" to his father, Blood Lord Lucius Aragir, as well as the core elders and leaders of the various clans.

As expected, the contents of the treaty instantly stirred up a huge wave among the vampire elites!

The solemn and ancient council hall of the Twilight Kingdom was now filled with angry roars and incredulous exclamations.

The treaty scroll was passed around among the people, and every clause on it was pricking the nerves of every high-ranking vampire present.

An ancient clan chief, whose hair and beard stood on end and whose seniority rivaled that of an elder, was now trembling with rage as he slammed the copying scroll in his hand onto the gleaming floor.
"This is a disgrace to the nation and a loss of sovereignty! This is an utter disgrace!"
What kind of cooperation is this? This is clearly annexation! It's forcing us vampires to kneel down and become their slaves!

Another elder pointed to the treaty's clause on military organization, his voice sharp with anger:
"Look at this! 'All armed forces in Twilight Continent must be reorganized into the 'Twilight Legion' directly under the Supreme Council, and subject to the unified command and dispatch of the Council's Military Command!'"
And this one too: 'His Majesty Blood Lord Lucius Aragell is appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Twilight Legion and concurrently serves as Deputy Chief of the Military Operations Department of the Supreme Council'... Hahaha!

He laughed in a fit of rage, his laughter filled with grief, indignation, and mockery.

"What a 'commander-in-chief'! What a 'vice minister'!"
My supreme Blood Lord, who ruled the Twilight Continent for a thousand years, is only fit to be a legion commander who obeys orders, or some damned deputy minister, in their land.
Where do they place the dignity of my people?

Where does this leave the clan leader's authority?

“And this!” An elder in charge of foreign affairs exclaimed, his face turning ashen. “All foreign relations, trade agreements, and even the mining rights for some internal magical resources must be reviewed by the committee!”

Do we no longer even have the right to trade with other forces and mine magic crystals on our own land?
How is this different from a regulated colony?

A younger, powerful marquis added through gritted teeth:

"What's most infuriating is that the treaty didn't even promise His Majesty a formal 'commissioner' seat!"
Even if it's just in name only!
This means that there is no one from our vampire clan in the core decision-making level of the Supreme Council!
We're not even puppets; we're just henchmen and vassals!

The elder who had roared first howled again, his dark red eyes seemingly dripping blood:
"The Supreme Council, this is not about cooperation at all! This is about completely annexing my people."

This is even more despicable than the open and brutal conquest by the Demon Gold Empire!

The Sal want our land and submission, but they want to strip us of our backbone, drain our marrow, and leave us forever unable to rise again!
Become a dog under their command, one whose barking is only permitted!

The crowd in the council hall was outraged; their ancient pride and dignity made it impossible for them to accept such harsh and even insulting terms.

Their original expectation was that the worst-case scenario would be the cession of some interests and acceptance of a certain degree of coordination in military affairs, but at the very least, they would maintain political independence and basic autonomy.

However, this treaty is almost going to uproot the independent heritage of the vampires that has lasted for thousands of years, and completely incorporate them into the system of the Supreme Council, making them a "special administrative region" and "exclusive legion" under its jurisdiction.

Its status is probably not even as high as some of the smaller human principalities that are affiliated with it.

"This is absolutely unacceptable!"

"I'd rather die fighting than live such a humiliating life!"

"Your Majesty! Please order the army to assemble! Even if we die, we must let those arrogant humans and their lackeys know that the dignity of the vampire race cannot be desecrated!"

"Yes! We'll fight them! Twilight Isles is our home, and we will not allow others to trample on it like this!"

The rousing calls for battle, the angry shouts, and the pessimistic sighs mingled together, turning the solemn royal court into a bustling marketplace.

Many radicals were already bloodshot-eyed and their blood was boiling, wishing they could immediately muster their troops and march on the Endless City.

Amidst the deafening roar that seemed to lift the very roof off, Keshram stood silently to the side of his father's throne, his face pale, his lips tightly pressed together, his eyes filled with an indescribable weariness and bitterness.

He didn't participate in the argument because he understood better than anyone else present what was supposed to be a passionate and intense "fight to the death."

Faced with the terrifying power displayed by the Supreme Council, they were utterly powerless and might even have hastened the extinction of their race.

His mind kept flashing back to what he had seen and heard in the Endless City: a group of powerful high-level superhumans; various legions that were well-trained and outrageously well-equipped; technologically advanced magic workshops and a constant stream of war machines; and a secret trump card that he caught a glimpse of but was chilling.

And there's Windsordler, sitting in the main seat, cold and powerful, and behind her, the King of Effie, Cohen Corleone, who, though never shown, hangs like the Sword of Damocles in everyone's hearts!

It was a terrifying machine that had entered a completely new dimension, forged for total war and even ultimate survival.

In contrast, the ancient heritage, individual bravery, and seemingly powerful legions that Twilight Continent prides itself on appear so flimsy and outdated in the face of a systematic, large-scale, and technologically advanced overwhelming force.

He knew that his father and the Senate were genuinely angry and humiliated, but... reality was even colder and crueler.

The choice offered by the Supreme Council was humiliating, but if it was rejected, this path might disappear completely.

Amidst the uproar and rage, Lucius Aragell, the Blood Lord, remained unusually silent, seated atop his supreme throne.

His gaze swept over the excited crowd below, finally settling on his eldest son's pale and bitter face.

Lucius knew Keshram.

This son may not be radical or outspoken enough, but he is calm and steady enough, and has a deep sense of responsibility towards himself and his community.

The fact that Keshram did not immediately reject this humiliating treaty, but instead brought it back, speaks volumes—he must have seen something in the Endless City that would make this vampire prince feel despair and powerless to resist.

Lucius raised his hand and gently pressed it down.

A powerful aura belonging to a legendary peak expert quietly spread out. It wasn't strong, but it carried an undeniable majesty, instantly silencing the noisy hall.

In an instant, all eyes were focused on the Blood Lord.

He did not immediately comment on the treaty, nor did he respond to the elders' requests for war. Instead, he turned his gaze to Keshram and said in a deep voice:

“Kashuram, my son.”

All the noise subsided instantly, and everyone held their breath, looking at the prince.

"We are already aware of the contents of the treaty."

Now, put aside your emotions and temporarily forget the words on this document.

Tell my father, and also tell all the elders and clan leaders present...

Tell me about everything you saw and heard in the Endless City; I want to know every single detail!

You could hear a pin drop inside the main hall.

Kashuram took a deep breath, meeting the burning gazes of his father and all the elders and patriarchs. He knew that the moment that would determine the fate of the tribe might not lie in an angry vote on this treaty.

But what he is about to describe is the true nature of that behemoth called the "Supreme Council".

He sorted out his chaotic thoughts and prepared to speak, presenting the suffocating power and despair to his kin who were still immersed in the dream of ancient glory.

Kashurram's voice was initially a little dry, but as the narration progressed, it gradually became heavy and clear.

He did not exaggerate, and even deliberately avoided using overly emotional words, but simply described what he saw and heard in the Endless City as objectively and in detail as possible.

However, it was precisely this almost cold objectivity that made every detail in his words feel like a heavy boulder, crashing down on the hearts of every high-ranking vampire present.

He recounted the undisguised and powerful aura he sensed at the Supreme Council headquarters, mentioning the factions to which those powerful individuals with different insignia belonged: the Holy Knights and Priests of Light of the Church of Light, the profound foundation of the Five Wings Family, and even some infamous lone warriors or representatives of small forces in the Lost Lands.

They all appeared there in an orderly fashion, clearly having become part of the Supreme Council.

He described the legions he saw, whose soldiers were so well-equipped that it exceeded the vampires' understanding of "standard equipment."

The full-body armor, shimmering with a constant magical aura, is ingeniously constructed, features multi-functional weapons for both ranged and melee combat, and is equipped with a dazzling array of small tactical magical gadgets.

More importantly, their training, discipline, and killing intent made them more than just a bunch of ragtag soldiers; they were a true war machine.

He mentioned the massive United Workshop district, where the magical forges shone day and night, and the assembly lines continuously produced terrifying war machine parts...

Keshram did not instill fear; he simply stated the facts.

But it was precisely these facts that shattered the illusions woven by the vampire elites due to their ancient pride and relative isolation.

At first, some elders scoffed and questioned whether Keshram was exaggerating or being deceived by the "illusion" he was deliberately presenting.

But as Keshram's descriptions became more detailed, mentioning the names of forces they had also heard of, and providing logical technical details and military descriptions, the doubts gradually disappeared.

Inside the council chamber, only Keshram's steady yet heavy voice echoed, along with his increasingly labored breathing.

The anger faded from the faces of many elders, slowly giving way to a deeper and deeper shock, bewilderment, and...fear.

They never expected that the Supreme Committee, which was described in intelligence as a "coalition of emerging forces" and privately referred to by some established forces as a "makeshift organization" with a hint of disdain, would be so different from what they thought.

Without making a sound, they have already accumulated such terrifying power!

It's not just about sheer numbers; it's about a complete, efficient, technologically advanced warfare system and a vast alliance network!

They possess not only formidable individual combat power, but also a systematic military force, terrifying military production capacity, and unfathomable potential allies.

Blood Lord Lucius listened in silence, seeing further and thinking more deeply than many of the elders present.

Kashyram's description confirmed some of his vague guesses and completely shattered his last bit of hope.

This Supreme Committee is by no means a hastily assembled motley crew; its organizational capacity, execution capabilities, technical expertise, and ambition far exceed expectations.

And the tactics and schemes of Cohen Corleone, the King of Effie, are even more unfathomable.

A deep sense of regret welled up in Lucius's heart.

If only I had known... if only I had known that when I received that handwritten letter from Cohen Corleone, I should have put aside my pride, taken the initiative to reach out, and even... joined him!
At that time, the vampires were still the complete overlords of Twilight Continent, and their strength was well preserved. If they joined on an equal or even slightly superior footing, they might have been able to win a seat on the committee.

To retain considerable influence and autonomy, and to become one of the core leaders of this emerging giant, rather than merely a subordinate.

But now... one wrong step leads to another.

The invasion of the Demon Gold Empire depleted the vampires' strength, exposing their weakness and internal problems, while the enemy's strength was expanding at an alarming rate.

With the tide turning and the tide rising, the initiative has long been lost. What the other side is now offering is not an invitation, but an ultimatum; not cooperation, but a takeover attempt.

Keshram's statement was over.

The hall fell into deathly silence.

The voices that had previously clamored for a fight to the death to uphold dignity have disappeared, leaving only a near-desperate silence.

Ancient pride was shattered in the face of cold reality.

They finally realized what a terrifying opponent they were facing.

Although Keshram's statement made most of the vampire elders see reality clearly, their millennia-old pride and deep-rooted sense of independence remained.

The treaty's almost insulting clauses remained unacceptable to most elders and clan leaders.

After a brief silence, an even more heated debate ensued.

This time, however, the focus of the debate is no longer "to fight or not to fight," but rather "how to secure better conditions," "whether there is still room for maneuver," and "whether it is possible to stall for time and wait for a change in circumstances."

A highly respected elder spoke with a trembling voice, but his tone had lost its initial decisiveness; instead, it was filled with sorrow and helplessness:

"Even so... we absolutely cannot agree to such harsh conditions! This would be handing over our clan's millennia-old heritage to others!"

Someone tentatively suggested:

"Perhaps... we can send envoys again to try to negotiate, even if it's just to secure one or two committee seats, or to retain independent command of some core troops..."

Another more pragmatic general shook his head, his face ashen.
"It's no use. Prince Keshuram brought back an 'ultimatum.' His attitude is clear: there's no room for negotiation."

Going again would only bring humiliation and might even completely enrage the other party, closing the final door.

Soon, an untimely voice rang out:

"I've heard that His Majesty Corleone is known as a notorious womanizer. Perhaps we could give him one of our vampire beauties..."

These words immediately caused a stir in the hall, with many elders showing signs of interest.

Prince Keshuram sighed and shook his head, saying:

"Not to mention that we don't even know where His Majesty Corleone is right now."

Even if we were to send women... what woman among our vampire clan could compare to the most beautiful woman on the continent?

"Comparable to the Golden-Winged Daughter of the Pale Wings, Empress of the Central Empire, the next Queen of the Elves, and the new Queen of the Kingdom of Ceylon..."

With each name that Keshram called out, the expressions of the people in the hall grew dimmer.

Yes, they only remember Cohen's reputation as a womanizer, forgetting how he earned that reputation in the first place.

He has almost taken all the famous beauties on the mainland into his harem, so why would he look at any other ordinary beauties?

When the honey trap failed, the group resumed their debate.

The debate lasted a long time, and ultimately, the proposal to cooperate with the Supreme Council on the existing terms was rejected due to the strong opposition of most elders and powerful clan leaders.

At least on the surface, the vampire elite cannot accept such a complete surrender.

Blood Lord Lucius neither pushed forward nor fiercely refuted it from beginning to end.

He simply listened quietly, watching his tribesmen arguing below; no one could discern his true thoughts.

The meeting ended unhappily in a somber, pessimistic, and powerless atmosphere.

The elders and clan leaders left filled with anger, humiliation, fear, and confusion.

Soon, only Lucius and his son Keshram remained in the vast royal council hall.

Kashuram's voice was hoarse, filled with deep exhaustion and guilt:

"Father, it is my incompetence..."

Lucius raised his hand to stop his son from speaking.

He slowly rose from his throne, walked to the window, gazed at the eternally unchanging dark red sky of Twilight Continent, and after a long while, finally spoke:
"No, you did the right thing. Bringing the treaty back and letting us see reality is much better than blindly going to our deaths or clinging to unrealistic fantasies."

The opposition from the higher-ups was within my expectations. The ancient pride of our vampire clan needs time, or a sufficiently harsh reality, to wear it down.

But now, we don't have that much time.

The Demon Gold Empire won't wait for us to reach a conclusion, and the Supreme Council's patience is probably running out.

Kashuram's heart tightened: "Father, you mean..."

Lucius did not answer directly. He walked to his desk, spread out a sheet of paper, and said in a deep voice:
"I need you to make another trip to the Endless City, not in the name of the vampire delegation, but alone, secretly."

Send a letter in my personal capacity.

Kashuram looked up in astonishment.

Lucius has begun writing:
"Give the letter to His Highness Windsordler. Although I would prefer to speak directly with His Majesty Cohen Corleone, the information you brought back has already indicated that..."

We have now lost the right to engage in equal dialogue with him.

……

Twilight Continent Front, late at night, Commander's Mansion.

Cohen Corleone rubbed his throbbing temples, rolled up the last operational plan map, which marked tomorrow's advance route and firepower allocation, and put it into a specially made encrypted file tube.

After finishing a full day of official business, he left the commander's residence and returned to his own official residence.

Pushing open the heavy solid wood door to the living room, a warm atmosphere mixed with a faint, delicate fragrance wafts out.

However, the scene that came into view made Cohen pause slightly, and his breathing became labored.

The flames in the living room fireplace burned quietly, casting a warm, soft glow over the room.

In the large, soft sofa facing the fireplace, Mavis was curled up in an extremely languid and alluring posture.

She seemed to have just taken a bath; her thick, long hair was still damp, casually draped over her shoulders and the back of the chair, with a few strands clinging to her fair neck and collarbone.

She was only loosely dressed in a black silk shirt by Cohen, which was obviously too big for her. The hem of the shirt barely covered the top of her thighs, which only made her legs look even more breathtakingly long and voluptuous.

Leaning against the soft sofa back, one leg is bent with the knee raised high, while the other leg is casually draped over it.

Their smooth, plump thighs, like jade pillars, were tightly intertwined, their whiteness dazzling against the warm firelight and the contrast of their black shirts.

The full curves reach their peak at the knees and then smoothly taper into the beautifully shaped calves, revealing soft and alluring undulations beneath the fabric.

Barefoot, one slender, fair ankle unconsciously rubs against the ankle of the other foot, the ten toes, like tender bamboo shoots, sometimes curling slightly, sometimes spreading out.

Mavis was gazing intently at the leaping flames in the fireplace, her profile outlined in a breathtakingly beautiful silhouette by the light and shadow.

Hearing the door open, she slowly turned her head, glancing sideways at Cohen standing in the doorway from between her crossed knees.

Then, under Cohen's suddenly deep gaze, she gently lifted the jade foot that had just been rubbing against her ankle, her instep straight and her ankle curving into an extremely alluring arc.

Her rosy lips parted slightly, her voice a little hoarse:
"What are you standing there for? If you're not coming over, do you want me to come and pull you myself?"

Cohen's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and a wicked smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

He closed the door behind him and walked towards her.

"It was quite unexpected that our great artist caught fire!"

Mavis spat lightly, her eyes sparkling with captivating charm, yet tinged with a hint of reproach:
"Isn't it all because of your mistreatment?"

Last time you even insisted that I...stock up on those...Ooh! Be gentle! I just changed my stockings..."

Cohen had already approached and unceremoniously grasped her provocative ankle. Mavis struggled symbolically, her resistance more like a feigned rejection.

The air seemed to become thick and sweet in that instant...

……

……

……

Cohen suddenly frowned and stopped what he was doing.

When Mavis saw him suddenly stop, she twisted her waist in dissatisfaction and gave a heavy "hmm" in her nasal voice.

Cohen looked slightly embarrassed and sighed helplessly.
"It's Windsor... There's an urgent magical signal coming from Windsor."

It's very likely that the vampires have replied, or that something significant has happened.

Upon hearing this, Mavis raised her exquisitely beautiful face, flushed with emotion, and suddenly turned over, saying in a hoarse voice:

"You do your thing, I'll do mine."

We two...will not interfere with each other! (End of Chapter)