10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 167- Darithi’s Surprise
She couldn’t openly scold him right now, especially when he was actively plotting to conquer yet another ridiculously dangerous female.
But her violet eyes were sharp with genuine suspicion.
The silver-haired woman’s strength was deeply unnatural. She possessed raw power that easily eclipsed any typical S-rank hero.
It wasn’t that Ytrisia’s senses were sealed; it was just blatantly obvious. The stranger displayed multiple, terrifying abilities.
She moved far faster than the naked eye could track, and the sickening way she had casually absorbed the glowing vitality from Alath’s severed head defied all known logic.
She either had multiple awakened cores merged into one, or she belonged to a monstrous, ancient bloodline.
"Yeah, I do," Cruxius replied.
It was a vague, dismissive agreement, but he knew exactly where Ytrisia’s unease was coming from.
Evangeline’s abilities broke every rule of logic. And it made perfect sense, considering the dark history he knew so well.
She had personally slaughtered and consumed the raw blood cores of more than twelve ancient, powerful vampires.
Her own brothers, to be precise.
She hailed from one of the thirteen major founding families. Each of those arrogant bloodlines had their own twisted methods for weeding out the weak to choose an heir.
Evangeline’s family preferred a brutal, no-rules bloodbath. All potential successors were thrown into a closed battlefield. Only the last sibling standing was deemed worthy of the throne.
The rest died meaningless, gruesome deaths.
Naturally, the siblings tried to form fragile alliances and teams. But in the vampire world, unity was a pathetic joke.
Unlike humans, who sometimes hesitated out of misplaced morality, vampires were wired for betrayal. They viewed backstabbing an ally mid-battle as a mark of high intellect.
In their dark society, genuine comradeship was nothing but a fatal illusion.
That brutal, self-serving reality was exactly why Cruxius felt so confident. He knew how to manipulate that inherent selfishness to survive—and eventually, to pull the strings from the shadows.
Of course, he couldn’t completely abandon his cover at the Hero Association just yet. The timeline was accelerating dangerously fast, but he could still juggle his chaotic triple life: shining superhero, wanted supervillain, and now, a vampire Queen’s personal, bleeding plaything.
"I see..." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦
Ytrisia didn’t approve of his arrogant smirk. Especially not when the terrifying subject of their conversation was walking barely three arm-lengths ahead of them.
Given the monstrous power the Queen had just displayed, Ytrisia was absolutely certain the woman possessed enhanced hearing. She could likely pick up every single whispered syllable.
It made Ytrisia’s stomach knot.
Cruxius’s reckless habit of loudly discussing provocative, dangerous topics right behind the back of an apex predator was beyond foolish. She shot him a warning glare, silently begging him to shut his mouth.
"But by the way, where are we actually going right now?" Ytrisia finally asked, changing the dangerous subject.
She glanced up at Cruxius. A part of her felt they should have stayed to at least formally check on the head of the Blac family after the massacre.
But Cruxius had marched into that ruined office completely alone to speak with his father, leaving the rest of them in the dark. It was highly unusual, and she was still trying to piece together his erratic moves.
The hallway stretched on endlessly. The floor was lined with a plush crimson carpet that swallowed the sound of their footsteps.
Tall, arched windows on one side let in a pale, cold afternoon light. It cast long, distorted shadows of the two women as they walked side by side—though in truth, it felt more like a forced march. Darithi led the way with purposeful strides, and Seleyena reluctantly trailed behind.
Seleyena’s delicate brows remained pinched together the entire time. Her dark eyes, catching amber hints in the light, constantly darted around—from the high, vaulted walls to the shadowy corners, lingering on the heavy, closed doors they passed.
Her long, dark hair was still a bit messy. A few damp strands clung stubbornly to her flushed cheeks, slick with sweat or perhaps the lingering, bone-deep exhaustion of the previous night.
She had woken up barely an hour ago. She found herself curled on a massive, unfamiliar bed in a luxurious room within this strange, sprawling estate—which Darithi coldly informed her was now her permanent residence.
The very last thing she clearly remembered was the roaring fire. It had burned blindingly bright around her, wild and all-consuming.
Then came the physical memories. The heavy, aching weight of her swollen breasts bouncing erratically. The hot, wet friction as she ruthlessly ground her aching, tight back door down onto his thick shaft. She remembered clamping her desperate muscles around him, using his body as her only solid anchor in a world burning to ash.
’Hm... did he like it when I did that?’ As she walked down the silent hall, a sudden, phantom twitch rippled through her thighs just from the dirty memory of him lying beneath her.
Her sore rear muscles protested the movement, heavily missing the thick, blunt pressure that had stretched her to the brim. He had painted her insides so thoroughly that she felt she carried a lingering, musky scent of him deep within her—a scent she never wanted to wash away.
She almost wanted to throw out her expensive perfumes and just replace them with the raw, masculine smell of his sweat.
But sadly, she was walking these halls without his grounding presence, completely clueless as to where on earth this fortress was even located.
Darithi hadn’t bothered answering any of her initial, frantic questions.
The pale woman had simply walked into the bedroom, gently—almost mockingly—touched Seleyena’s flushed cheek with a strange smile, and said, "Come with me. Master said I should teach you."
Seleyena hadn’t even asked what, exactly, she was supposed to be taught. She just heard the word "Master," and her battered heart fluttered wildly, a messy cocktail of deep confusion and starving hunger.
All she cared about was seeing him again. She followed Darithi instantly, even though her instincts screamed not to trust the stoic girl.
"Where is Cruxius?" she asked again, her voice echoing slightly as she shot a sideways glance at the younger woman.
Her tone was mostly calm, but there was a distinct, fragile tremble hiding just beneath the syllables.
Darithi didn’t break her stride.
Her long, ink-black hair flowed behind her straight back like a silken blade. Her pale skin was flawless, like carved marble, and her golden eyes were sharp, vigilant, and completely unreadable.
She held a small, leather-bound notebook in one hand. She wasn’t writing anything down; she was just fiddling with the cover, as if trying to distract herself from a rising irritation.
"Master is busy right now," Darithi replied quietly. Her tone was perfectly polite, yet entirely flat and devoid of warmth.
Seleyena’s jaw clenched tight.
She looked over her bare shoulder, half-expecting Cruxius to casually appear at the far end of the hallway, ready to laugh and tease her like he always did. But the corridor remained empty and silent.
Her fingers curled slightly against her thighs. "Busy with what?"
Darithi said absolutely nothing. She just kept walking.
It had already been nearly thirty minutes of this silent, winding march. They had taken so many abrupt turns and climbed so many identical staircases that Seleyena couldn’t even begin to retrace her steps.
The sprawling palace, or secure facility, or wherever they were—it was impossibly huge and eerily silent. It felt like a sterile maze deliberately designed to test a prisoner’s patience.
Seleyena purposefully slowed down her pace, letting her heels tap the floorboards with more weight. "Why aren’t we there yet?"
"Because I am currently showing you the path," Darithi replied smoothly, not even bothering to look back at her.
"Path to what exactly?"
