Part 1
Yamato stopped in front of the door leading to Floor 799.
At his side, Seiryu fine-tuned his magical perception, trying to decipher the energy vibrating beyond. What he found was... elegant, dense, almost seductive. A heavy presence that carried the scent of ancient blood.
"An old presence. Female. She's not trying to hide herself," he said calmly.
"And she doesn't need to," Yamato replied, emotionless. "She's a floor boss… like you were. Like Nebel was."
"All of you are doomed to stay in these rooms for eternity."
Seiryu lowered his gaze and nodded.
"You're right, my lord. Do you wish for me to handle it?"
Yamato had already begun turning slightly. He extended his hand toward Seiryu, the scythe resting on his palm.
"No. I want you to watch over my weapon. I don't think I'll need it."
"My lord?"
"I want to see what kind of creature rules this floor... and if she's worthy of being released from this prison. If she has what it takes to become part of my army."
Seiryu bowed in silence, understanding instantly. Yamato never acted on whim. He analyzed every possibility, every being in the Abyss, every rune and structure. Every move he made was the result of a mind that left nothing to chance.
Then, Yamato removed one of his rings. A simple piece, rustic in design, with no apparent value. Just one among many he had acquired during his journey.
He held it between his fingers for a few seconds as the nanobots covered its surface, coating it in gold, carving new runic patterns, and embedding a small obsidian gem on the side.
He repeated the process with nine more rings, concealing all of his stats completely.
Once he put on the final ring, his presence vanished. He no longer felt like a cosmic aberration; his aura no longer defied logic.
To any observer, he appeared to be just a human: pale, wearing patched-up clothes, a rusty sword on his back, and a dull expression.
Another trap. Another calculated lie disguised as weakness.
"Let the trial begin," he muttered, and pushed the door open calmly.
The threshold opened without resistance.
Beyond it, a gothic hall unfolded like a cathedral of shadows. The tall ceiling was covered in crimson stained glass that let in no light from the glowing crystals above.
Black carpets and stone walls adorned with blood-red tapestries gave the impression of a castle frozen in time.
And at the end... she.
Seated upon a throne of obsidian and blood crystal, Eliza rested with one leg crossed and a floating goblet beside her.
She didn't look like a beast, but a queen. Her golden hair swayed in the faint breeze of the hall, and her scarlet gaze followed him the moment he stepped inside.
"Are you lost?" she asked, her voice both a caress and a threat.
Yamato didn't respond right away. He took a few steps toward the center of the room, feigning hesitation. He looked confused. Like a mid-tier adventurer who had simply gotten too lucky.
"Did the little bunny get lost?" Eliza murmured, standing from her throne and descending with hypnotic grace. "This is no place for weaklings."
Her presence filled the room. She didn't command with brute force, but with absolute dominance. She walked like someone who didn't need permission to kill.
"I'm looking for a way out," Yamato said in a flat tone. "I touched a strange stone on the first floor and it brought me here. I just want to leave, if that's alright."
Eliza descended the steps without hurry. Her goblet continued to float, spinning slowly in the air. Each step echoed hollow and deep, like funeral bells.
"And what will you offer in exchange for information?" she smiled, revealing fangs as white as her skin. "My hospitality isn't free, dear intruder."
Yamato lowered his head. His voice trembled slightly—just enough to seem convincing.
"I don't have anything. Just this sword… and my legs. I'm a level one adventurer."
The vampire laughed.
An elegant, mocking, and deliciously cruel sound.
"Then you'd make a fine appetizer. It's been ages since I tasted human blood."
Her eyes gleamed with intensity, and the air thickened like poisoned mist.
"P-please… have mercy," Yamato said, his voice seemingly tinged with desperation.
"Sorry, little one. I'm thirsty… who do you think placed that crystal there?" she replied, just as her fangs lengthened.
"Now die."
Her nails sharpened into thin, razor-like claws, and her figure blurred into a crimson streak. She lunged at him in a predatory dance, leaving behind a trail of floating roses.
But just before impact, Yamato clumsily tripped and rolled to the side.
Eliza, unable to halt her momentum, slammed into one of the marble walls, cracking it with the force.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" Yamato asked from the floor, voice timid.
The vampire rose with elegance, brushing the dust off her dress. But her eyes betrayed her: confusion, doubt, frustration.
What was that?
Luck? Or did he dodge me on purpose?
No… it must've been luck.
But deep down, Eliza was no longer sure.
"'Lucky brat'? And who are you calling ma'am?" she snapped, losing her composure for a moment.
"Ahem…" she cleared her throat, forcing an elegant demeanor.
"I mean… you still haven't told me your name. Now that I think about it… maybe I could keep you as a pet."
Her eyes narrowed, a twisted smile curling on her lips.
"I've spent millennia in solitude, you know? A pet might not be so bad."
"My name is Yamato," he replied in a calm, nearly lifeless tone. "And I'd rather leave now… if that's alright with you… ma'am…?"
"Ugh, you annoying brat," Eliza groaned, crossing her arms with irritation. "I'm Eliza. And I'm not a ma'am."
Why do I feel like prey…?
This brat isn't normal. He should be trembling…
With one of her long nails, she made a clean cut across her palm. Blood trickled down in a silent spiral, pooling beneath her feet.
"Blood Spike!"
From the puddle, spikes of solidified blood erupted, launching like crimson needles in every direction. The air hummed with the sharp whistle of the spell.
"Wall!"
Yamato raised a small earth wall clumsily. The needles struck it directly, shattering it to pieces, but none pierced through. He fell backward, sliding across the floor, cowering behind the broken stones like a frightened rabbit.
Eliza stared at him. She said nothing.
That wasn't luck.
That wasn't a coincidence.
"P-please let me go… I don't want to die here," Yamato said, trying to sound sincere.
Something felt wrong.
The vampire regrouped her blood, which slowly slithered back toward the pool at her feet.
"No one has ever left this room. And you won't be the exception," she said, her tone more serious.
"Last chance to become my servant. Kneel now."
Yamato remained still, hunched behind the rocks. But her words didn't seem to frighten him.
"Scope," she murmured, activating an analysis skill.
Her crimson eye turned gold for a moment, and an invisible data panel appeared before her. She scanned it quickly and precisely.
Race: Human
Level: 1
Stats: D
Class: Warrior
And then she saw it. A detail at the bottom of the panel.
Hero's Blessing.
"So that's what it was…" Eliza muttered, as if she had just solved a puzzle. "You're a rookie hero. That's why you're lucky."
She sighed, relieved. As if everything finally made sense.
But deep down… the unease didn't go away.
"That's right. I was summoned just today," Yamato said, keeping up his act—his voice weak, pitiful. "I came here on my own to train in this dungeon. Please… have mercy."
Eliza vanished into a crimson blur while he spoke.
She reappeared behind him, completely silent, leaning over his neck. Her voice was a venomous whisper.
"How will a hero's blood taste, I wonder…?"
She tried to bite.
Direct. Confident.
But the moment her fangs closed in… she felt a sharp jolt.
Her mouth stopped cold.
Yamato's skin was as hard as tempered obsidian.
Her fangs shattered on contact, breaking before they could pierce.
"Divine protection?!" Eliza hissed, clutching her mouth in pain.
Almost immediately, two new fangs sprouted in place, as if nothing had happened. Her regeneration was flawless—but her pride, not so much.
Eliza stepped back, inspecting him more carefully than before.
Her smile was gone. Her face remained composed, elegant… but her eyes burned with something else now.
"You're just lucky. That's all it is," she muttered, as if trying to convince herself. "Another pathetic hero with borrowed blessings."
Yamato didn't respond. He just shrank back slightly, as if still afraid for his life.
Eliza stared at him for a few more seconds… then exhaled deeply.
"Alright then, little rabbit. Let's play for real."
She raised her hand, and the pool of blood at her feet began to tremble. Drops floated into the air, dancing as if pulled by an unseen force.
Then they spun together in a spiral.
A long, solid shape began to take form. Red as a beast's living heart.
A scythe.
She gripped it with a smile far colder than before. The game was over.
"Let's see if luck is still on your side now."