Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

"Mother…" Velira whispered softly, disbelief lacing her voice as she looked at the figure standing before her.

The attacking vampire froze on the spot, his whole body trembling. His instincts screamed at him that the woman before him was no ordinary vampire. She was a Nightstalker — the devourers of their own kind, predators among predators. They called themselves hunters, though they were vampires themselves.

"I… I… I'm sorry," the vampire stammered, his impulsive rage already replaced by pure terror.

"It's alright," Vemora, Velira's mother, spoke with a calm voice, yet each word carried a cold finality. "All I have to do is kill you to correct your arrogance."

"No—please… please just let me—urgh!"

The vampire's plea was cut short, his chest torn open in a blur. A pale hand reached directly into his ribcage, curling around his beating heart.

"Please… don't…" he begged weakly, but his words were wasted. His heart was ripped out with merciless precision, his life snuffed out before he could even comprehend his death.

The heart was raised up, and another vampire — taller, sharper, with dark hunger in his eyes — sniffed it with disdain. "Such a bland heart," he said, disgust dripping from his tone. Without hesitation, he bit into it, devouring it with unnerving calm.

This was Draziel, the right-hand of Vemora, feared even among the Nightstalkers.

"Let's go, my sweet child. This place is no longer safe for you," Vemora said softly, turning back to Velira. "From now on, you will stay with our clan."

Velira's small hands clenched tightly at her sides. She didn't want to speak, but she couldn't keep it in. Her chest ached with resistance. "Mother… I… I can't." Her eyes were wet, trembling as tears brimmed.

"Don't be a spoiled brat, kid," Draziel interjected coldly, tossing aside the rest of the heart as though it was trash. "You either come with us… or fend for yourself. From what we just saw, you won't last a single day alone."

"I know," Velira whispered, voice quivering. "But I can't… I just can't." She took a step backward, her tears finally spilling down her pale cheeks.

Vemora's eyes softened. "My child…" she called gently, torn between her role as a mother and her duty as a Nightstalker.

"Tch. Buzzkill," Draziel muttered, his lip curling into a predatory grin. "If you don't want to be one of us, then you're better off as food. You won't survive anyway." He began to step forward, his tongue sliding across his lips. "What can I say? I've never tasted the flesh of a pureblood myself…"

"Draziel, stop!" Vemora snapped, her command sharp, but her subordinate didn't slow. His hunger drowned out reason.

"And why should I?!" Draziel snarled. "Need I remind you of the clan leader's orders? If she refuses our kindness, she is to be killed on the spot. That was the instruction, Vemora. Don't think your motherly feelings can overwrite that."

The room's air shifted—thick, suffocating.

"Take one more step closer to her," a voice said, low and thunderous, "and what you'll be eating is your own heart."

Everyone froze. The voice didn't shout, yet it rang louder than any roar.

Standing at the doorway was Dracula. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the shadows, his presence towering, suffocating, inevitable.

"Dracula…" Vemora whispered, her face draining of all color. Fear gripped her like a vice, stronger than anything she had ever felt.

Dracula walked forward slowly, every step deliberate, every movement heavy with unshakable authority. "So many dare defy me today. First, the conservatives tried to recruit my son… and now you scavengers dare show your faces before me?" His voice was calm, but beneath it was the promise of death.

"We are not scavengers!" Draziel roared back, his fear drowned by reckless pride. "We are vampires hunters!" His eyes blazed with defiance as he met Dracula's gaze.

Dracula's lips curled faintly. "He dares talk back to me. You really have no regard for your life… Very well. I shall grant you your wish."

"You can't kill me!" Draziel shouted, his confidence flaring. "If you do, my clan leader will come for you. You might be the most famous vampire alive, regarded as the strongest of all, but perhaps I should remind you of the difference in age between my clan leader and you! Millennia! The age gap is that vast!"

Dracula's eyes narrowed, his tone cutting like a blade. "A fool, even in death. Do you think that cockroach of a clan leader scares me simply because he is older? So if I kill you now, your clan leader will intervene?"

"Of course he—"

"No, Lord Dracula!" Vemora cried out, cutting him off desperately. Her body trembled, but her voice was firm. "My clan leader does not wish to make an enemy of you!"

Draziel's eyes widened. He turned on her in disbelief, rage twisting his features. "Vemora! What nonsense are you spouting?!"

Vemora avoided his gaze. "Simply saving our entire clan… and our sireline."

Dracula chuckled darkly. "Vemora, always clever. You know what must be done."

Before Draziel could even react, his body exploded into a crimson mist. His life ended instantly.

Dracula's gaze fell upon Velira, then back to Vemora. "As I promised my friend, I will be taking Velira with me. I will ensure her secrecy until the day she desires independence, and until I am convinced she can protect herself." His voice was not a request. It was a decree.

Vemora bowed her head deeply. "Thank you… I beg of you, for the sake of your friend, please look after my daughter."

Dracula gave no verbal reply. He simply nodded, appearing beside Velira. The next instant, both of them vanished, leaving the room empty.

Silence lingered.

"…Was it reasonable," another Nightstalker whispered to Vemora, "to hand your daughter to the very cause of her clan's downfall?"

Vemora's eyes were heavy with conflict, but her words were steady. "The safest guardian anyone can have right now… is Dracula. And despite everything, he still considered Morvane a friend."

She turned sharply, masking her emotions. "Come. We must report everything to the clan leader immediately."

Some of the other Nightstalkers grumbled, their eyes glinting with hunger. "But what of the soon-to-be vampires? You can't expect us to leave them untouched. Their blood is… tempting."

Vemora looked at them. Their expressions were united, hungry and expectant. She clenched her jaw, torn. In the end, she could only sigh and give in. "…Fine. Do what you must."

---

"Father," Kaelith said respectfully as Dracula appeared in the great hall, Velira standing silently beside him.

"Liam?" Dracula asked.

"He has chosen to lock himself away," Kaelith admitted. "Forgive him, Father… but the guilt of exterminating an entire clan weighs heavily on him."

"Pathetic." Dracula's gaze hardened. "Kaelith. See to it that the young vampire before you receives one of the royal chambers. Treat her no different than we are treated."

Without waiting for a response, Dracula turned and left.

Kaelith was left with Velira, the silence between them suffocating. She stood stiffly, unable to meet his eyes, her body trembling faintly.

After a moment, Kaelith exhaled and offered her a small smile. "Shall we?"

Velira nodded quietly, still too drained and overwhelmed to utter a word.