Reborn as a Vampire in a Dying World: Blood, Power, and Pleasure
Chapter 51: The Suit Finally Fits

Chapter 51: The Suit Finally Fits

But before any intimacy could take place, Corven was suddenly plunged into darkness. The entire space around him warped, swallowed by shadows like a curtain falling mid-scene.

Just like the night before.

But this time, something was different.

Instead of an indistinct silhouette or a passive illusion—it was another vampire.

The second Corven inhaled, even slightly, his senses flared. One sniff of the stale air was all it took. The blood wasn’t just undead—it was laced with intent. Aggression. It reeked of allegiance.

Leywin’s goons.

The emotions tangled in the scent made it obvious—this wasn’t a hallucination or ambient memory flux. This was real.

[Warning: Caught in Foreign Vampire’s Realm]

[Neutralize?]

’Neutralize?’

Corven scoffed mentally.

’No thanks. This is a good chance to test my new abilities. I’d rather fight out here on flat terrain than wreck the bedroom again.’

Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeve like he had all the time in the world, Corven braced himself.

The intruder appeared moments later.

He looked like he stepped straight out of a gothic-horror hunter novel—cloaked in a thick trench coat, metal-plated armor laced into his joints, battle-worn leather hugging his chest, and a pointed hat casting shadow over his face.

Classic look, Corven thought. Shame about the attitude.

"Did you really think you’d get away with interfering in our business, freshblood?" the vampire asked, voice gravelly and low.

"Leywin should’ve clipped your wings before you left the nest, upstart."

Corven tilted his head with a smirk. "I don’t know... your defenses were lacking. Kind of made it easy."

The vampire’s jaw twitched. "You might have deciphered all the codes back at the compound—but you’ll find no such mercy here."

Without another word, the man unsheathed twin daggers from behind his back. Both hilts carved from ebony. The blades glinted—silvered, definitely enchanted. Gripped in reverse.

Corven could tell instantly.

This wasn’t just a lackey.

He was the type of vampire designed to kill other vampires.

A hunter.

Which meant Corven was at a disadvantage—no blood reserves, no backup.

But Corven wasn’t just a vampire anymore.

He was something else.

"Any last words?" the vampire growled.

"Yeah," Corven said, grinning. "Go to hell."

SWOOSH.

The vampire lunged, no time wasted on theatrics. He went straight for Corven’s throat.

The floor pulsed under Corven’s feet, breathing like something alive. Reality here was pliable, reactive to its maker’s will. Shadows slithered unnaturally, mimicking fangs. A realm like this was meant to disorient—but the darkness only sharpened his abilities.

[Umbrakin Activated]

THUD.

Corven caught his wrist mid-attack—effortlessly.

Corven’s mind worked faster now. Every shift in weight, every twitch in the enemy’s fingers—he could predict outcomes like a trained duelist reading the future. His body moved before thought finished forming. He wasn’t reacting. He was orchestrating.

The momentum jolted the man, his other dagger already whipping forward for a gut stab.

"Behind you," Corven said casually.

[Bloodborne Charm Activated]

The vampire’s instincts kicked in, eyes darting behind him—

Big mistake.

CRACK.

Corven shattered his elbow with a sharp, clean strike, forcing the first dagger from his grasp.

It clattered mid-air—but Corven was faster. He seized it in a smooth motion, blade now reversed in his own hand.

He didn’t hesitate. He slashed toward the man’s throat.

CLANG.

Barely in time, the vampire blocked using his free hand. Sparks flew from the enchanted steel.

’This isn’t right...’ the enemy vampire thought, eyes narrowing in panic.

’Leywin said this bastard was barely above average...’

But Corven wasn’t average anymore. His recent evolution made everything clearer. Sharper.

Before, he had to consciously trigger abilities. Now, they flowed from him naturally—like instincts hardwired into every muscle.

It was like putting on a suit that finally fit.

"You shouldn’t think so much in a fight," Corven mocked.

He thrust forward again.

CLANG.

Another parry, but this time the man staggered, losing balance.

’How is he this fast? How did he grow this strong in such a short time?’

[Bloodreader Activated]

Corven’s eyes flared faintly.

"You’re terrified."

He pivoted, shifting the force of his blocked thrust into a low sweeping kick aimed at the vampire’s midsection.

"You’ll block," he added flatly.

[Bloodborne Charm Activated]

As predicted, the vampire raised his arms defensively.

Corven’s smirk widened. That’s all he needed.

The kick? It was never meant to land.

He flicked the dagger in his hand upward—hard.

WHOOSH.

The blade spun, slicing through the air like a disc aimed for the head.

"Dirty—!"

SLASH.

The dagger grazed his face, carving a deep line across the cheek. Blood oozed from the fresh gash, like a second mouth opening under his eye.

The pain made him flinch. His block dropped.

The silver blade, once meant to weaken Corven, was now working against its wielder. The cursed metal sapped his strength with every passing second, turning what should have been an advantage into a liability.

Corven didn’t wait.

This time, the kick came for real.

BANG.

CRACK.

The blow struck square in the chest. Bone snapped under the force—ribs, forearm, all shattered from the failed defense.

The second dagger slipped from his limp fingers, hitting the ground beside him with a dull metallic thud.

"This time..." Corven said as he advanced, voice colder, more sure. "I’ll take the lead."

When he first landed in this world, he was just drifting. Wandering. No real goal aside from getting stronger and having some reckless fun.

But that was changing.

Now, he had certainty—he knew what he was capable of.

No longer a pawn following orders.

No longer just another vamp trying to climb the ladder.

He was something far less predictable.

A wildcard.

A role he once claimed, but nearly forgot amid the danger and politics of Underzen.

Not anymore.

He was going back to his roots.

And this time?

He’d make sure to enjoy the ride to the fullest.

Corven stepped closer, lifting the stolen dagger. The hunter backed away—but not fast enough. A blur, a flash, and suddenly, the blade was hovering at his throat.

"Tell Leywin he’ll need better dogs," Corven whispered.

He was granting mercy—not out of kindness, but to spread his name. Let the hunter live, and his legend would grow.

The vampire bit his lip hard enough to draw thick rivulets of blood. Corven could sense the fury pulsing through it—pure, simmering rage.

And it thrilled him.

"Fine..." the hunter spat, voice laced with venom.

Corven blinked—

And everything snapped.

The shadows fractured like glass. The hunter’s presence vanished in an instant, leaving only silence.