The noblewoman named Alexia looked Langlibaitiao up and down without the slightest pretense of modesty.
"Miss, I know I'm handsome, but please, show a little restraint."
A shiver of revulsion ran down Langlibaitiao's spine. Her gaze felt as if she were picking out groceries, making him so uncomfortable that even his usual wisecracks faltered.
Alexia's crimson eyes suddenly flared with interest.
"Splendid."
"What's splendid? My devastating good looks?"
"Your vitality is remarkably resilient. You are worthy of becoming my father's sustenance. This shall be the greatest honor of your wretched, insignificant life." Her voice trembled with intoxicating delight. She could not care less about conversing with Langlibaitiao, entirely lost in her own reverie.
"Wait, hold on, I haven't—"
"Take this human away," Alexia commanded coldly.
Several guards flanking the passage quickly stepped forward, unlatched the cage, and dragged Langlibaitiao out by force.
"Easy, easy!"
"Don't choke a guy by the neck!"
"Brothers, please, could you just let me walk on my own?"
Langlibaitiao didn't put up much of a struggle. Instead, an intrusive thought struck him: *Wait, am I about to get turned into a vampire? This gameplay is getting interesting!*
Despair was the furthest thing from his mind; his curiosity was thoroughly piqued.
The death-seeking soul within him flared into a blazing inferno!
Even if he, Langlibaitiao, were to die, he was going to pull off something legendary. Nothing less would do justice to his reputation.
Escorted by the guards, Langlibaitiao walked down the corridor.
He looked around, clicking his tongue in amazement.
"Holy crap..."
The subterranean expanse beneath this "Refugee Shelter" was vastly larger than he had imagined, plunging down into an abyss. Suspended in midair above the chasms and walkways hung hundreds of iron cages packed with ravenous blood thralls utterly dominated by their craving for blood—there were probably well over a thousand of them.
First, he was dragged into a secluded chamber where the guards thoroughly washed him down.
Finally, he was marched to the far end of the gloomy corridor.
A massive set of heavy doors swung slowly open.
Torches flickered to life in the corners, casting a dim, wavering yellow glow.
In the center of the grand, opulent, yet chillingly grim hall rested an intricately sculpted stone sarcophagus.
Alexia lifted her skirts and curtsied respectfully.
"Father, here is your dinner for today."
The sarcophagus opened slowly. Duke Brad Lakeman opened his crimson eyes, the corners of his mouth curving slightly upward.
Evidently, he was in high spirits today.
Looking at Langlibaitiao pinned between the guards, the pale-faced duke stepped forward. Leaning in like a connoisseur savoring a fine vintage, he inhaled the scent coming off the prisoner and spoke in a raspy voice:
"You carry the scent of trickery upon you. Why... have you come here?"
Langlibaitiao couldn't help shuddering in disgust. "Damn, you pervy old geezer. If you want to drink blood, just drink it. I don't do extra services."
The duke chuckled softly, baring sharp fangs.
"You are right. Once I turn you into a vampire spawn, everything about you will be under my command. This shall be the greatest honor of your life—savor this moment!"
Langlibaitiao said exasperatedly, "Are all of you freaks this narcissistic?"
The duke paid no heed to the human's deliberate provocation, merely offering a contemptuous laugh.
"Mortals like you can never comprehend an immortal existence such as mine. I hail from centuries past, and my origins have long faded into darkness. I was once a glorious general, and all of Anzeta trembled beneath the wings of my giant eagles. Yet I chose a far more winding path.
"And you shall serve as nourishment for my next step toward true immortality.
"And so...
"Tremble! Despair! Bow in awe!
"When I reign over this land, your blood shall boil within my immortal flesh."
The duke gently stroked Langlibaitiao's neck, speaking in pure ecstasy.
He wasn't truly talking to the "food" in front of him; he was merely painting his own immortal fantasy—a dream in which he was the sole, exalted sovereign.
Confronted with the family's shared pathology, Langlibaitiao said flatly, "Damn, so why haven't you dropped dead already, you old fart...?"
Held fast by the guards, he couldn't budge an inch.
"I am eternal."
With a cold sneer, the duke sank his fangs into Langlibaitiao's vulnerable neck.
Veins bulged as his blood was ravenously drained.
An irreversible transformation took hold. His body grew visibly emaciated, his once-ruddy skin blanching to an ash-white pallor. The spark of mortal life in his eyes gradually faded, supplanted by an eerie, crimson glow.
"Excellent."
"Throw this insolent wretch into the dungeon."
The duke released him with lingering satisfaction, wiping the traces of blood from his lips with an ornate silk handkerchief.
"Yes, my Lord."
Noticeably lighter, Langlibaitiao was hauled away by the guards and tossed into an iron cage, just like the rest of the blood thralls.
Yet there was not an ounce of sorrow in Langlibaitiao's heart. On the contrary, watching the stream of notifications flashing across his system interface filled him with sheer delight.
[You were attacked by the vampire Brad Lakeman. You have been transformed into the special template: Vampire Spawn.]
[Note: This transformation is irreversible.]
[You have gained the trait: Born of Death. Most victims of a vampire's attack become vampire spawn—ravenous creatures driven by a craving for blood while bound to the will of their vampire creator. If a vampire allows its spawn to drink its own blood, the spawn becomes a true vampire, no longer bound by its creator's control—though exceedingly few vampires ever permit this. Typically, vampire spawn only regain their freedom upon their creator's death.]
[You have gained the trait: Undead Nature. You do not require air or food.]
[You have gained the trait: Regeneration. You regain health from any injury unless harmed by one of your weaknesses.]
[You have gained the trait: Spider Climb. You can scale vertical walls and hang upside down from ceilings.]
[You have acquired Vampire Weaknesses: Running Water, Wooden Stake to the Heart, Sunlight Hypersensitivity, and Aversion to Holy Relics. Suffering any of the above damage types may result in permanent death.]
"This template is busted! Paired with my Arcane Trickster class..."
"Tsk, tsk, pure rat energy."
"Hehehehe..."
He was already fantasizing about running rampant and pulling off insane heists in the mines.
"First, though, I've got to bust out of here. And that repulsive, blood-sucking old codger—sooner or later, I'm going to make him cough up some serious loot."
Remembering how the duke had stroked his neck, Langlibaitiao felt another wave of disgust wash over him.
"Damn, that old bastard wouldn't happen to be a priest or something, would he...?"
Muttering under his breath, he retrieved a set of thieves' tools from a hidden pocket inside his robe and set to work picking the lock. He had already practiced this particular set of skills to perfection.
*Creak, rattle...*
The iron cage door rattled, letting out a sharp screech.
By the time the patrolling guards came around, the cage was already empty.
High above, Langlibaitiao clung effortlessly to the ceiling, peering down at the guards below with a smug sneer: *Didn't see that coming, did you? This is my escape route!*
Chapter 100