After resting on the bed for several more minutes, Zane slowly rose. He glanced at Lila panting beside him, reaching out to swipe a finger through the dampness between her thighs.
Then he addressed her in an arctic tone:
"You may use anything in this room freely. I'll have food sent to you later. But without my explicit permission, you're not to step beyond this threshold." His voice hardened like glacial ice. "Disobey me, and I'll personally drag you back to the Dungeon myself."
"Understood? My precious little bride?"
The twisted endearment finally provoked a reaction from Lila. A crystalline tear traced down her cheek as she whispered hoarsely:
"You... demon..."
Zane acknowledged the accusation with dark amusement. Perhaps he was becoming exactly that. But in this brutal world where power ruled, one either wore the demon's crown... or became rotting flesh beneath a conqueror's boot. Survival demanded monstrous choices, and he'd long since sold his soul to that particular devil.
So be a devil, then—and it's actually pretty thrilling being one!
Zane let out a soft chuckle, stopped speaking to Lila, dressed himself, and pushed the door open before stepping out.
He hadn't gone two paces when Chunk of Flesh's deathly pale face slowly emerged from the darkness.
"Master!" Chunk of Flesh bowed respectfully to Zane. "I have brought back the fellow who dared to offend you, straight from the foot of the mountain."
Well, I'll be damned—Chunk of Flesh may not shine at much else, but when it comes to kidnapping, he's fast and efficient!
Zane nodded in satisfaction and grunted in approval.
"All right, did you throw that guy into the dungeon?"
"No—I've locked him in the great hall instead, since I thought you'd rather meet him in person."
"Well done." Zane praised Chunk of Flesh, then asked curiously, "Hey, how do you pull off a kidnapping so cleanly? Have you mastered some special spell?"
At Zane's words, a pleased smile flickered across Chunk of Flesh's face—he clearly basked in the praise.
Then, still kneeling, he answered respectfully.
"Master, have you forgotten? When you created me, you granted me the power to merge with darkness itself. That is how I can traverse the entire continent without being seen by any creature."
Never would've guessed that this hulking brute was also an assassin!
And if that's true, it seems you can bestow unique abilities on the creatures you create…
If Zane could churn out more undead in the slaughterhouse before the hero and the righteous army arrive, victory might be all but assured…
"I haven't forgotten," Zane replied casually. "I only just woke up—some memories are a little hazy."
With that, he issued two more orders to Chunk of Flesh.
"First, fetch some food—the kind normal people eat—and deliver it to my bedroom. Second, keep a close watch on Princess Lila in there. Don't let her die, and don't let her step an inch outside that room!"
"As you command, my Master!"
Zane said no more. He patted Chunk of Flesh on the shoulder and strode toward the great hall.
Chunk of Flesh remained rooted to the spot, staring after Zane's retreating back, then muttered to himself.
"Master patted my shoulder… Master patted my shoulder! Oh—Master approves of me! Chunk of Flesh must work even harder; I cannot disappoint him…"
…
The vast great hall of Howling Castle was heavy with the faint coppery scent of blood.
Evan, a knight from the Duchy of Winterscar, scanned the surroundings warily, his mind rife with frustration and remorse.
"Damn it! How could this happen… I just went to relieve myself, and next thing I know I'm ambushed…"
"Pfah!"
He spat onto the stone floor, then strained every muscle as he fought to free himself from the chains binding him to the pillar.
At that moment, a shadowy figure slowly emerged from the darkness and began walking toward Evan.
"Tsk tsk." The figure clicked his tongue in disapproval and shook his head. "Such poor manners. You're a guest in someone else's home—spitting on the floor? Really?"
As soon as Evan heard the voice, his entire body tensed. His eyes locked onto the silhouette that was gradually materializing from the gloom.
The sound of footsteps drew closer and closer. Evan's breathing grew more rapid, almost involuntarily. But when the dim light finally revealed the stranger's face, he couldn't help but freeze in surprise.
Zane immediately picked up on Evan's shock. Still, he said nothing. Instead, he began to closely examine this unfortunate knight.
He had to admit, the man in front of him was an imposing beast—brawny and built like a fortress. His armor alone said plenty; high-quality gear, no doubt. As for his weapon, it had been tossed a few feet away by the Chunk of Flesh.
What surprised Zane even more was that, aside from that initial flash of surprise, the guy had actually regained his composure rather quickly.
"No wonder he's from the elite forces of the Duchy of Winterscar…" Zane silently praised the man in his heart—then sighed inwardly with irritation.
"Damn it… and there are five thousand more of these bastards on their way to tear me to pieces."
Zane cleared his throat lightly. He stopped looking at Evan and walked over to the discarded weapons. He picked up a longsword and slowly drew it from its sheath.
"You're the Vampire Duke Dracula?" Evan finally couldn't hold back and spoke.
"Oh? Do I not look the part?" Zane held the sword as he stepped back in front of Evan. "But I don't like the name Dracula. I prefer it when people call me Zane."
"Zane…" Evan repeated the name under his breath. Then a mocking smirk curled across his face. "Hard to believe the infamous Vampire Duke is so young… and so frail…"
Frail?!
That word struck a nerve. Zane's face twitched. Sure, compared to Evan, he was skinny as a rake—but lean didn't mean weak! He'd just finished thrashing their precious princess not too long ago!
Ugh. Meathead types like you are the worst.
Zane didn't bother with a witty retort. Instead, he lifted his hand and drove the sword straight into Evan's thigh.
"Argh!" Evan let out a cry of pain, glaring up at Zane with a mix of agony and fury. "You're finished! Captain Chris will notice I'm missing any minute now! He's the bravest warrior in the whole kingdom! Our vanguard may only have ten men, but that's more than enough to deal with trash like you!"
Perfect. His whole brain really is made of muscle.
Zane couldn't believe it. One light jab of the sword, and this guy had spilled all the intel.
Now that he had what he needed, Zane had no interest in dragging things out. He happened to need a punching bag to test out his freshly unlocked Talent anyway.
"Thanks for that."
Zane raised an eyebrow at Evan, then casually tossed the longsword aside. He lifted his large hand and pressed it firmly against Evan's face.
"Vampire's Touch!"
A flash of crimson-black light burst from Zane's palm. Evan didn't even get the chance to scream or cry out. The light in his eyes vanished instantly, leaving behind a hollow, lifeless gaze. The eerie glow surged down from the top of his head, racing through his limbs in the blink of an eye—only to be drawn back into Zane's hand a heartbeat later.
That was it?
Everything had happened so fast—even Zane himself hadn't quite processed what he'd just done.
But Evan was definitely dead. His body withered and shriveled in mere seconds, like a tree drained of life. In contrast, Zane could feel it—his own strength and muscle mass had visibly increased.
"Whew…"
Zane exhaled slowly, then clenched his fist and slammed it hard into the chains that had been binding Evan.
Clang!
The iron chains—thick as a soup bowl—caved inward under his punch, leaving a deep dent.
"So this is what it means to absorb someone's vitality, huh?"
Zane looked down at his fist with undisguised delight. From what he could tell, Vampire's Touch was nothing short of a god-tier ability. A starting skill that let him grow infinitely stronger just by killing? That was insane.
Anyone who's ever played an RPG knows exactly how broken an infinite-scaling skill can be.
"It's still not enough… but I'm feeling a lot more confident about facing off against the protagonist crew."
Zane rolled his shoulders, getting a feel for his stronger body. Then he yanked the rest of the chains off Evan's corpse, slung the dried-out knight over his shoulder, and headed straight for the Slaughterhouse.