Reborn as a Vampire in a Dying World: Blood, Power, and Pleasure
Chapter 45: A Friend Like Leywin

Chapter 45: A Friend Like Leywin

The first gargoyle lunged, its stone claws aiming to turn Corven’s face into a shredded mess.

SWISH.

Corven ducked under the attack, body still limber from the earlier fight. The blood he drank had kicked his reflexes up just enough.

"I can’t fight back in this state!"

Another charged in from the left.

SWISH.

Then another, from behind.

WHOOSH.

Corven was stuck on the defensive. He twisted and dodged, narrowly avoiding each strike. His bone rapier was practically useless against their stone bodies, and though he could craft another weapon—something blunt—there just wasn’t enough time.

Judging by the gargoyles’ speed and sheer numbers, even with the right weapon, fighting head-on would be suicide.

BOOM.

Another landed hard beside him, claws gouging into the stone floor where he had just stood.

CLANG.

A follow-up slash came from above. Corven met it with his rapier, redirecting the blow—but the force cracked his blade instantly.

The damage was clear. These things weren’t average constructs. Stronger than most vampires he’d fought. Possibly stronger than him.

THUD.

A hit from behind sent him flying. The blow slammed into his back with a force equal to that of a medium sized car crashing onto him.

Before he could recover, another came at him from the front.

SLASH.

Corven twisted mid-air, trying to spin out of the way, but he wasn’t fast enough. Twin gashes tore open along his sides, blood spraying from the wounds.

He landed hard, skidding across the stone floor, blood pouring from his wounds in thick streams as he looked up—only to see the gargoyles showing barely a hint of slowing down.

"I’ll die at this rate... guess I’ll try a bit and see if anything works!"

He opened his palm and cast a Bloodbolt.

– Blood (65 Units)

The crimson orb shot forward, slamming directly into the nearest gargoyle’s face.

Nothing.

The creature barely flinched.

Corven clicked his tongue. "Stone versus a bleeding spell. Of course."

Another gargoyle charged.

Corven jumped back, boots hitting the nearby wall. He steadied himself, eyes locked on the oncoming beast.

"Come at me, you glorified statue!"

The gargoyle lunged again. Corven sidestepped at the last moment.

BANG.

The creature slammed headfirst into the stone wall, its craggy skull embedding into the surface for a moment.

Corven didn’t waste the opportunity. He grabbed the beast’s body with both arms while its head was still stuck.

The others began to rush in.

CRACK.

He twisted with everything he had. The stone resisted—but it moved.

TWIST.

The gargoyle’s body broke apart with a violent crunch, split cleanly in half.

"Yes!"

BASH.

A heavy punch struck his head, knocking him sideways into the wall beside the now-dead creature.

"Huk—!"

He gasped as blood erupted from his mouth.

The same gargoyle stalked toward him, its fists clenched. Corven smiled through the blood, eyes narrowed.

No point lying down to die.

WHAM.

He threw a brutal punch into its face, his knuckles screaming in pain as they connected with the stone surface.

Something cracked—his hand.

But he didn’t stop.

Bones shifted in unnatural ways. He could feel skin tearing over raw fractures, blood slicking his grip. But pain was a luxury he didn’t have time to feel—not when death was still charging at him with stone fists.

SWOOSH.

The force of the blow sent the gargoyle stumbling back midair, spinning awkwardly before its head struck the ground.

CRACK.

Its skull split open on impact. The beast stopped moving.

Eight left.

And Corven was already near his limit.

’Blunt trauma to the head? Looks like they still obey the rule of ’brains’—even if they barely have any.’

His vision wavered. Blood dripped from his brow, hot and steady. His breath came in wet gasps, lungs burning like they were full of fire. Every step forward felt like dragging a corpse—and that corpse was his own body.

"Are you seriously telling me this is how I die!?" he shouted. "Didn’t even get past street-level power!"

His voice echoed through the cavern.

Then—laughter.

Familiar.

Mocking.

The gargoyles froze, their limbs still mid-motion.

"Huh...?" Corven muttered, still panting.

A figure stepped into view.

Leywin.

The same bastard who led them to this city. The guide. The liar. His punchable smirk was intact, smug as ever, like he’d just watched everything unfold exactly how he wanted it to.

"Is that you, Corven...?" Leywin called out, chuckling.

He stroked his chin, head tilting as he examined the scene like a disappointed teacher.

"What a shame. I really didn’t think you’d be a problem. We could’ve been friends, you know? You mind your business, I mind mine."

The gargoyles stood still—frozen like statues now. Responding to his words like trained pets.

Corven scoffed. He’s read this scene in too many fiction books to not know what was coming next. And unlike most leads, he wasn’t afraid to use every dirty trick to stay alive.

"Can’t you let me off the hook just this once?" he offered with a dry grin. "What if I join you instead?"

He was stalling, buying time—blood slowly stitching his injuries closed, though sluggishly. The gargoyles’ hits seemed to have a slight curse baked in, messing with his regeneration.

Leywin raised an eyebrow. "Join me...?"

"I think not."

Corven’s grin thinned.

"And why not? You’ve got nothing to lose."

Leywin shoved his hands into his pockets, still grinning.

"Oh, please. You’re exactly the type who’d turn coat the second someone offered you a better deal. You’re a walking liability. I’m fine with being acquaintances, but actually letting you in?" He snorted. "No thanks."

He turned, walking toward the chained vampire heir. With zero regard, he patted her head like she was a piece of furniture—just another piece in his game.

The chains rattled softly at his touch, like they hated being near him. Her body didn’t flinch, but Corven swore he saw her eye twitch—like her soul screamed silently from inside.

"And since you already know about her... being friends isn’t an option anymore."

Corven gave a dark chuckle.

"So negotiations are off the table, huh?"

Leywin shook his head slowly.

"Correct."

And with that, the gargoyles began to move again.

But Corven... was already moving.

A plan forming in his blood-slicked hands.