Reborn as a Vampire in a Dying World: Blood, Power, and Pleasure
Chapter 31: Five Wins to Power

Chapter 31: Five Wins to Power

A few hours later, during the match—after the bloody mess of two regenerating vampires viciously tearing into each other with blood-forged blades and inhuman shrieks—one finally reigned supreme.

And of course, it was the leaner one. Just as Corven predicted.

"Yes!" he shouted, fist clenched, startling a few nearby spectators who turned with irritated scowls.

After all, he’d just cheered for the underdog—and the underdog had just won.

[Objective: Win 5 Bets (1/5)]

Then, suddenly, an announcement boomed across the chamber—somewhat surprisingly, from a human perched on a tiny balcony wedged into the far corner of the room, half-shrouded in shadow and torchlight.

The man wore a white mask, featureless except for jagged ink lines drawn across the eyes and mouth, and what could only be described as a discount metalhead cosplay: studded leather, faded chains, and mismatched greaves.

"Did you see that, folks?! The underdog—" the masked announcer roared into the crowd, though his voice distorted slightly, as if echoing through a tin can.

Corven ignored the commentary, tuning it out in favor of something far more important: his winnings.

He turned to the trio of beastkin and the lizardman, grin spreading. "Got my coin?" he laughed, hands already open.

The canine beastkin scowled, ears flicking. "You got lucky," he growled, tail lashing with frustration.

"Ain’t that the point?" The lizardman cut in with a dry laugh, trying to diffuse the tension as he scraped together a pile of glinting silver from the communal pot. "Here. Your winnings."

He sighed as he passed it over, scales twitching slightly. "Seventy silver in total," he muttered, clearly annoyed—he’d bet against Corven too.

Rose’s eyes lit up at the sight, the pile of coins glinting like treasure under torchlight. "Seventy? I think I may actually turn into a gambling addict from this..."

"I welcome you aboard, then," Corven chuckled, grabbing the pouch of coins greedily.

But the celebration didn’t last long.

Another fight was already underway—this time a hulking beastkin warrior stepping into the arena opposite a robed elven mage, mana already dancing at his fingertips like sparks.

The crowd roared, some placing last-minute bets, others chanting names.

And the lizardman? He saw his chance.

"Want another bet?" he hissed, eyes gleaming with renewed hope.

The three beastkin beside him leaned forward eagerly, egging Corven and Rose on with hoots and jeers.

Without hesitation, Corven answered with a grin that practically screamed come at me.

"Hell yes."

And it was a damn payday.

Hours passed in a chaotic blur.

The fights grew bloodier, the matchups more insane—and Corven’s streak only burned hotter. His group of fellow bettors began to swell in size, more gamblers joining in, lured by the increasing coin pool and wild energy surrounding him.

And yet, through all the madness, Corven remained unshaken.

He bet everything each time. All seventy silver, then more. Like a man with nothing to lose and eternity to burn.

[Objective: Win 5 Bets (2/5)]

The codex chimed again after each victory. Rose—normally the voice of reason—began to lose it, giggling and cheering with every payout.

That is... until the stakes got too high.

"I think that’s enough betting for today..." she said with a nervous laugh, watching Corven place another mountain of silver into the pool without a second thought.

[Objective: Win 5 Bets (3/5)]

[Objective: Win 5 Bets (4/5)]

And then came the final match.

A vampire stepped into the ring with fangs bared and arrogance in his stride—only to be flattened like a broken marionette beneath the wrath of a hammer-wielding beastkin who smashed him down like he was turning bones into dust.

The crowd screamed. Coins flew. Blood misted.

And Corven and Rose?

They roared over the chaos.

"FIVE HUNDRED SILVER!" they both yelled, fists raised in victory, shouting just as loud as the drunken spectators who now surrounded them.

[Objective: Win 5 Bets (5/5)]

[Minor Quest Complete]

[Pick skill to upgrade]

The codex chimed once more—this time with finality.

Around them, the crowd surged, growing louder, more animated. Corven was no longer just another gambler—he was the gambler. The lucky bastard. The miracle streak. The legend in the making.

Bettors around them either cursed him or celebrated with him. Some called him a cheater. Others wanted him to touch their coins for luck.

But Corven? He just smiled.

"Perfect..." he murmured under his breath—and without hesitation, navigated the glowing system prompt in his mind.

He selected Marrowbind.

[Choice Confirmed]

Marrowbind → Gravewright – shape, create, command, and evolve skeletal matter beyond natural limits (15 Units)

But just as he tried to enjoy the moment, the space around them began to compress. The swelling crowd pressed closer, cheering and reaching, jostling against each other for proximity.

The lizardman from earlier tried to push them back. "Move! You’ll crush him—!"

It didn’t help.

Soon, Corven found himself pinned against the railing, barely able to move, the crowd pulsing like a wave.

"Great... Now I’m famous," he muttered, sarcasm flat as stone.

Rose rolled her eyes, sighed, and without warning, grabbed him by the collar.

"Up and over," she said.

Before he could argue, she leapt, dragging him with her in a graceful arc over the crowd, landing near the exit in a flurry of motion. The crowd barely noticed.

And just like that, they were outside—back in the quiet, moonlit alleyway, hearts pounding, pouches stuffed with coin.

"We’re rich!" Corven shouted, arms spread wide as he laughed into the empty night.

Rose joined him, her voice echoing down the cobbled corridor like victory itself.

The same mercenary who’d blocked their entry before stood nearby, leaning against the wall. He didn’t say a word.

Just watched them with a slow, amused grin. Like he’d seen this before.

Two lunatics. Drenched in blood. Giddy with silver.

Another night at the club.