[Location: Dungeon—Vampire King's Castle]

Tti-ring!

[Floor Cleared: Base Floor — Vampire King's Castle]

[Collected Souls of Vampires: 45/10,000]

[Exp. Needed for the next level up: 599,960/600,000]

[Rewards: +50 Stat Points, Access to Floor 2]

Whole floor swiped, and I didn't even level up once?!

Quite a frustrating sight. My EXP bar taunted me, barely inching toward the next level despite the carnage. And the problem is that not a single Low-Ranked Vampire dropped loot, much less a Low-Ranked Ghoul.

'What's this?'

Paimon handed me a tightly rolled-up document scroll.

[Item: Entry Permit]

— Rarity: ??

— Type: ??

— A permit allowing you to enter the 2nd floor of the Vampire King's Castle. Can only be used on the 1st-floor floor-transfer magic circle.

'An entry permit?'

So all that whole floor sweep was for nothing?!

When I unfurled it and took a look, I found all sorts of undecipherable drawings and letters adorning its surface. In the end, the only thing that helped me understand its purpose was the item explanation.

'An item that lets me go up from the first floor to the second, is it….?'

I thought, knocking the back of my head.

I turned around to face the gate. The familiar mechanical beep rang inside my head as soon as I did.

Tti-ring!

[You have discovered floor-transfer magic circle.]

There, a magic circle carved on the ground appeared. The light shooting out from it was reaching into the sky.

But before stepping on it—

"Come back."

The entire army dissolved into a tide of black smoke, streaming toward my feet and disappearing beneath my shadow.

Then, without hesitation, I stepped inside.

'.....'

….Nothing happened.

I tilted my head this way and that, before taking a few more steps to stand in the middle of the circle.

Only then did another message pop up in my view.

[No floors have been opened.]

[Which floor would you like to transfer to?]

"How many floors are there?"

Of course, there was no reply.

'Is there no other way to find out how many floors are there, except for finding out for myself?'

I pondered for a moment.

There wasn't that much left for the experience points, so should I stay and raise my level before going up, or should I just go up and level up there?

'Unlike other instant dungeons, there is no monster respawn in this place, so staying on one floor will be inefficient in the long run.'

Besides, the System said that vampires with more souls existed on the upper floors as well. I concluded that, for both my experience points and to clear the quest, it could be more advantageous to get to higher floors as quickly as possible.

'Fine.'

Let's go up, then.

I spoke up.

"Second floor."

[You need the entry permit.]

I summoned the scroll as per the instructions. As soon as it appeared, it dissolved into the light.

[The second floor of the Vampire King's Castle has been unlocked.]

[You are transferring to the second floor.]

Buzz…..

An even stronger ray of light began rising up from the magic circle. At the same time, I realised something.

'Ah…. So that's how it works.'

As it turned out, this whole thing was just an elevator.

The moment I realised what this pillar of light actually was, I was immediately transferred to the second floor, along with the blinding explosion of light.

...

Second floor, third, fourth…. and eventually, the 27th floor. That was the result of grinding for two days straight.

Or so I presume.

My shadow army expanded from 31 to 145 shadows. At first, I only wanted enough to comfortably sweep each floor without wasting time—but the dungeon clearly had other ideas. Every new floor introduced a different breed of vampire, and all of them died beautifully, quietly swelling the ranks beneath my feet.

Now?

My shadow army was starting to look like an extra small battalion.

I level up 6 times.

[Status Window]

• Name: Dominic Nocturne von Morningstar

• Race: Demon (Incomplete Primordial Fragment) / ???

• Level: 169—> 175

• Job: Demiurgic Archon

• Rank: B

• Title: [Dances With Wolves], [The Forsaken Lucifer(Locked)], [He Who Shouldn't Be Awake(Locked)], [God-Eater], [The One Who Creates in Defiance].]

• HP: 6280/6280—> 6340/6340 (+500)

• MP: 0/4980—> 0/5040

[Stats]

• Strength: 712—> 718 (+50)

• Agility: 608—> 614

• Stamina: 628—> 634 (+50)

• Intelligence: 498—> 504

• Sense: 568—> 574

—Available Stats Points: 190—> 240)

Reduction in physical damage: 60%

After getting +50 stat points for completing the base floor, I didn't get any stat point rewards.

Instead—

I squinted at the floating text.

[Item: Noble Vampire Outfit]

— Rarity: B

— Type: Outfit

— …

"…That's it?"

The description didn't even finish itself. Either the system was glitching, or this outfit was so proud of being noble that it didn't feel the need to explain itself. Typical aristocratic garbage.

The item materialised in my hand with a soft puff, like a pretentious cloud of perfume. Smooth velvet, dark crimson threadwork, sharp collar, overly dramatic cuffs—Yep. Vampire fashion.

'Huh.'

Actually… it looked absurdly expensive.

I held it up. The fabric shimmered like liquid night, threads laced with faint runic imprints barely visible unless tilted at a perfect angle. Every stitch practically screamed: I drink blood from wine glasses and speak in unnecessary syllables.

"System," I muttered, "you're giving me clothes now?"

No response. As always.

I sighed. "Fine. Show me what you're hiding."

The moment I equipped it—

TCHKK—!

A cold shiver slithered down my spine.

My shadow twitched.

Paimon stepped forward instantly, eyes narrowing.

Erebus materialised behind me without a sound, hand already on his spear.

"It's fine," I waved, though even I wasn't sure. "I think the outfit's just… doing noble things."

The system finally decided to clarify:

[Equipped: Noble Vampire Outfit]

[Effects Activated:]

• Noble Camouflage (Passive)— You radiate the blood-signature of a pure noble vampire.— Lower vampires will hesitate or bow instinctively.— Mid-rank vampires may be deceived temporarily.— High-rank vampires will know you're a fake and attempt to murder you on sight.

• Bloodborne Intimidation (Passive)— Presence value +30% around vampires.— Fear effect applied to monsters below your level.

• Dress Code Compliance— Required to access floors 20–40 of the Vampire King's Castle.

'Dress code…?'

I stared blankly.

"Huh. So this place really is run like a corporation, just with more murder."

Still, I couldn't help admiring myself for a moment. The outfit fit perfectly—too perfectly. Even the collar sat at that arrogant vampire angle.

Erebus tilted his head, as if offended on principle. As if saying 'My liege looks… refined.'

"I look like a rich, sleepless bat."

Again, his head tilted, but this time on the other side. As if saying, 'Indeed, my liege.'

"…That wasn't a compliment."

But before I could continue complaining—

Tti-ring!

[Floor 28 Unlocked.]

[Recommended: Proceed with caution.]

Recommend caution?

From my system?

Ah. That meant something troublesome was about to happen.

I stepped toward the transfer circle, after recalling my soldier back inside my shadow.

"Let's go."

The circle flared.

...

[Location: Floor 28 — Vampire King's Castle]

A cold, heavy pressure settled immediately. The air grew thicker—humid, metallic. The faint scent of old blood, but different from the feral stink of the lower floors.

This one smelled…expensive.

Dark marble tiles stretched across the hall, polished enough to reflect the chandeliers riddled with crimson flames. Tall archways rose like fanged ribs, the walls adorned with portraits—elegant vampires with cold, bored expressions.

Every single one of them seemed to look down on me.

Shit. The outfit was starting to make more sense.

Ttap… ttap…

Footsteps echoed.

A group approached from the right corridor: tall figures clad in elegant uniforms, white gloves, and silver buttons. Their eyes glowed with diluted vampiric red—far calmer than the frenzy of low-born beasts.

Noble-class attendants.

They froze when they saw me.

Then—

Thud.

They bowed.

Deeply.

Hands pressed over their hearts, heads lowered.

"—Your grace."

I blinked.

Paimon, behind me, smirked slightly. Erebus remained still, though his spear hand relaxed by one degree.

'Okay… okay. Outfit worth it.'

But something about these vampires didn't sit right.

Their posture was subservient—but their eyes…

Their eyes trembled with a mix of instinctual fear and… hatred.

Like they were bowing because thousands of years of instinct told them to kneel before a superior bloodline.

"Raise your heads," I said in my best impression of someone who didn't get dropped into this world wearing pyjamas two days ago. (Pyjamas are just for a joke.)

They obeyed. Slowly.

One attendant stepped forward—a young man with pale blue hair tied neatly behind his ear.

"Your grace," he said softly, "this corridor is restricted. The banquet for the High Nobles will begin shortly."

Banquet?

"Please present your House Crest."

…House Crest?

I stared at him blankly.

Shit.

Think, Dominic. Think.

I didn't know vampiric politics, but noble families always relied on hierarchy. The strongest bloodline sat at the top—

Which meant…

My outfit was broadcasting a bloodline signature that didn't exist.

So…

"…You dare request a crest from me?"

His expression froze.

'Gamble. Big gamble.'

Behind me, Erebus shifted, spear tip scraping the marble.

Paimon's eyes glowed, swirling like cold storms.

Fear seeped into the attendants' eyes instantly.

"N-No—! Forgive me, your grace! I did not mean— we did not realise—"

"Then don't ask again."

They dropped to their knees.

"We apologise!"

'Holy shit. That worked?'

I kept my expression bored and disdainful, like I held an ancient grudge against furniture. I walked past them, cape swaying dramatically.

Once the attendants were out of sight, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"…Okay. Mental note: nobles are idiots."

I glanced back.

Paimon: quietly amused.

Erebus: unreadable as ever.

"Let's maintain the act," I muttered.

The hall opened into a ballroom-sized chamber.

A massive fountain carved from obsidian stood in the centre—But instead of water, it circulated a thick, glowing crimson liquid.

Blood.

And not normal blood—

This one pulsed with mana.

"And you are?"

The voice drifted from the left—smooth, velvety, and cold enough to slip beneath the skin like a razor.

I turned.

A vampire stood there.

Not an attendant.

Not a low-born.

Not even a mid-ranked, judging by the aura bleeding off him.

This one was a Noble proper.

Tall. Immaculately dressed. Hair white as moonlit frost, eyes a deep garnet—calm, intelligent, predatory.

He held a wine glass filled with the same glowing crimson liquid from the fountain, swirling it with absent, aristocratic boredom.

His gaze lingered on me longer than I liked.

Too long.

"Your presence was not listed," he continued, chin lifting by a fraction. "Nor was your invitation. And yet, you walk in wearing a Crest-Void outfit with the arrogance of a Pureblood."

He stepped closer.

Not aggressive.

Not submissive.

Simply… curious.

A dangerous kind of curiosity.

His gaze swept from my boots to the collar of my Noble Vampire Outfit—then to my face.

"And so, I ask again."

A thin smile, polite and venomous.

"Which House do you belong to, stranger?"

Behind me, both Paimon and Erebus —silent, poised, waiting for my cue.

I didn't respond immediately.

I couldn't.

This wasn't like the attendants.

This one wasn't kneeling.

He wasn't fooled yet—but neither was he dismissing me.

He was… testing.

And I had two options:

Invent a House and pray it doesn't exist,

or

Act so impossibly superior that he convinces himself he should know me.

Both were coin flips.

So I chose the third option—

The option only someone with a secret System would dare.

I stepped forward.

Deliberately slow.

Letting the Noble Vampire Outfit's passives flow through me—

presence intensifying, intimidation blooming, the fabricated bloodline pulsing faintly.

His nostrils flared.

Good.

Then, in the most bored, aristocratic tone I could muster, I said:

"…You are asking questions above your station."

His eyes widened.

Just a fraction.

A beat of silence.

Then—

"…Forgive me," he said, bowing his head ever so slightly.

Not fully.

Not deeply.

A Noble's bow—

a gesture of respect, not submission.

"My name is Lord Vaelion Drakkaris," he said.

"Third Heir of House Drakkaris, overseer of Floors 21 through 30. I was unaware a stronger bloodline would be attending today's banquet."

Stronger bloodline.

Holy shit.

It worked.

But then—

Vaelion lifted his gaze again, eyes sharpening.

"However… your signature is strange."

He stepped close enough that I could see faint glyphs circling in his pupils.

That wasn't magic.

Shit.

Too close.

"Almost like…"

His voice fell to a whisper.

"…you don't exist."

My shadow twitched.

Paimon's aura surged.

Erebus gripped his spear.

Vaelion noticed—smiled slightly—and lifted his wine glass.

"Oh, calm yourselves."

He sipped the glowing blood.

"I did not mean that as an insult. On the contrary… I find this most intriguing."

His eyes slid toward the obsidian fountain.

"Come," he said.

"The High Nobles will want to see you."

I stiffened.

What?

Who?

But Vaelion simply gestured deeper into the golden-lit chamber beyond.

"A Pureblood who smells like nothing…

and everything."

His smile widened.

"I insist you join us, stranger."

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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