The next ten days passed in a blur.
Time ceased to be measured in hours or minutes; it was measured in swings of a sword and the recovery of my body.
Wake up.
Eat pancakes until the chef looked concerned for my health.
Head to the clearing and turn petrified trees into sawdust until my stamina reserves hit rock bottom.
Take a bath to recover.
Repeat.
It was a simple life.
A life devoid of construction sites, loan sharks, and falling steel beams.
Instead, it was filled with the sound of wind being sliced apart and the feeling of my soul slowly knitting itself together.
*Step. Step. Step.*
My boots clicked against the polished marble of the hallway, the sound echoing in the silence.
Today, however, the loop was broken.
I wasn't wearing my training gear.
I was stuffed into a ceremonial outfit that cost more than the combined earnings of my entire previous life.
Black silk, silver embroidery, and a cape that felt heavy on my shoulders.
"Status."
I mumbled the word under my breath, my hand brushing against the hilt of the ornamental sword at my waist, a poor substitute for my Miao Dao, but tradition sadly demanded it.
[DING!]
A red screen materialized in front of me, hovering as I walked.
------| System Interface |------
[Name]: Sethius Von Nevermore
[Race]: Royal Vampire
[Status]: Incomplete Soul -(Progress: 50%)-
[Age]: 14
[Rank]: F+
[Class]: Swordsman
[Legacy]: One Who Likes To Cut (C+)
[Traits]: Unity of Sword and Body (SSS+), Maniac of Slaughter (S+), Eye of Mimir (S+)
[Laws]: Sharpness, Darkness
[Masteries]:
Intermediate Swordsmanship ★★★★★ -(Progress: 11%)-
Basic Mana Manipulation ★★☆☆☆ -(Progress: 67%)-
------------------------------
[Skills] [Quests]
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.
In just ten days, I had completely mastered the basics and pushed through to the upper limits of the intermediate stage.
It was absurd.
It was unfair.
And I loved every second of it.
*Creak…*
The massive double doors at the end of the corridor loomed before me.
Two guards, clad in heavy crimson armor, stood at attention.
Upon seeing me, they slammed the butts of their spears against the ground in unison.
*Thump!*
"His Highness, Prince Sethius Von Nevermore!"
The Herald's voice boomed from inside, magnified by magic.
The doors groaned open, revealing a cavernous ballroom bathed in the light of a thousand magical candles.
Light. Music. Chatter.
It all died down the moment I stepped across the threshold.
Hundreds of eyes turned toward me.
Vampires, humans, sirens, demons.
The elite of the Tower.
They looked at me with curiosity, with judgment, and some with barely concealed malice.
I felt their gazes crawling over my skin like insects.
'…How annoying.'
I kept my face blank, a mask of indifference, but deep down, I wanted to click my tongue.
I'd rather be in the clearing.
I'd rather be cutting something.
Standing here, being paraded around like a prize pony… it grated on my nerves.
But I played the part.
I walked down the grand staircase, my steps measured, my head held high.
The Coming of Age ceremony had begun.
...
Time blurred slightly once more.
It was a parade of plastic smiles and empty compliments.
Lesser nobles came forward one by one, offering gifts that meant nothing to me.
"A gem from the Fire Mountains on the 27th Floor, Your Highness."
"A dagger forged by the Dwarves of the 40th Floor."
"A rare painting from the old era."
Nod. Thank you. Next.
I went through the motions, my mind drifting back to my sword techniques.
It was boring. Painfully so.
Until the atmosphere in the room shifted.
The murmurs died down completely.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea.
The Herald cleared his throat, his voice trembling slightly.
"Presenting… Their Imperial Majesties, Emperor Titus and Empress Julia Albaclara of the Albastar Empire!"
Two figures approached the dais.
They were radiant, draped in white and gold, a stark contrast to the gothic gloom of our castle.
The Human Emperor, a man with a stiff jaw and eyes that calculated every variable, gestured to an attendant.
"Prince Sethius."
His voice was polite, diplomatic.
"On behalf of humanity, we offer you these gifts for your journey."
The attendant opened an ornate box.
Inside, resting on blue velvet, were eight vials of glowing golden liquid and a sleek set of armor.
"Six S+ Rank Healing Potions, capable of mending even fatal wounds instantly. And a set of A+ Rank Black Leather Armor, crafted by our finest artisans to offer maximum mobility and protection."
The crowd murmured in appreciation.
S+ potions were priceless. A+ armor was a treasure.
It was a generous gift.
"I thank you for your generosity," I replied, bowing slightly.
It was safe.
It was standard.
But before the humans could even step back, a melodic, enchanting laugh cut through the air.
"My, my. Is that all?"
The crowd turned.
Walking forward with a swaying gait was a woman of breathtaking beauty.
Scales shimmered faintly along her neck, and her eyes were the color of the deep ocean.
"Presenting… Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Pluvia of the Lyravona Empire!"
She walked past the Human Emperor, shooting him a mocking glance before turning her gaze to me.
"A warrior needs to stay alive to fight, little Prince."
She snapped her fingers.
Two attendants brought forward a larger chest.
"Eighteen S+ Rank Healing Potions."
*Gasps.*
The sound rippled through the ballroom.
The Human Emperor's face stiffened.
The Empress clenched her jaw slightly.
It wasn't just a gift. It was a slap in the face.
She had basically just tripled their offering.
"May the tides favor you," Lyravona whispered, winking at me.
I suppressed a grin.
'Petty politics. But entertaining nonetheless.'
But the show wasn't over.
The air suddenly grew heavy. The temperature dropped.
Shadows seemed to lengthen, stretching toward the entrance.
"Presenting… His Highness, Crown Prince Mortis Nefra of the Ebonthrox Empire!"
A tall figure emerged from the darkness.
He had skin like obsidian and horns curling from his forehead.
His presence was suffocating, a raw aura of power that made the weaker nobles take a step back.
He didn't bring attendants.
He walked up to me alone, holding a single, thin object wrapped in black cloth.
He stopped before me, his eyes, burning coals, scanning my face.
"Potions run out. Armor breaks."
His voice was like grinding stones.
"Knowledge is eternal."
He shoved the item into my hands.
I unwrapped it.
It was a book.
Old, bound in skin that felt warm to the touch.
The title was etched in a language that hurt the eyes to look at.
[Book of Insights: The Law of Darkness]
"…"
Silence.
Absolute, deafening silence.
I looked up.
The Human Emperor looked pale. Empress Pluvia's smile had vanished.
Even my father, sitting on his throne at the high table, narrowed his eyes.
This wasn't a simple item anymore.
This could be considered a national treasure.
A book that contained insights into a Law?
It was something that could start wars.
Why you may ask?
Because this wasn't merely a rare grimoire or a dusty tome of spells; it was a cheat code made manifest!
A Book of Insights didn't just teach you; it was a direct conduit to the Tower's absolute Truth, bypassing the need for comprehension or study.
It was raw, undiluted conceptual understanding pulled straight from the Akashic Records, designed to forcibly imprint the very essence of a Law onto the user's soul.
And the kicker? It was a consumable artifact.
The moment I opened it, the knowledge would be mine and mine alone, the book crumbling into nothingness to ensure the enlightenment remained exclusive.
To gift such a thing wasn't generosity; it was akin to handing a mortal a fragment of divinity.
Something that people killed entire lineages to possess.
And he was giving it to me?
"Why?" I asked, my voice low.
Mortis leaned in, a toothy grin splitting his face.
"Because I smell the chaos on you, little vampire. And I want to see what you do when the lights go out."
He turned and walked away, leaving the entire room in a state of shock.
I gripped the book tightly.
'Interesting.'
"Ahem."
The Herald, sweating profusely, tried to regain control of the room.
"And now… for the final presentation."
The room held its breath.
The guests stepped back, leaving the center of the floor empty.
From the High Table, four shadows descended.
First was Vlad von Nevermore, his steps echoing like war drums, his abyssal eyes crushing the air around him.
Beside him moved the Empress Verona, my mother, a vision of lethal grace, her presence sharp as a hidden blade.
Behind them glided the Crown Prince, Mihail, his youthful face masking a century of cold detachment.
And, trailing last was tiny Radu, trembling in his oversized velvet suit, fighting to keep a serious face while walking.
Finally... It's time for the gifts from my dear family.