Reborn as a Vampire in a Dying World: Blood, Power, and Pleasure
Chapter 56: A Game of Covers

Chapter 56: A Game of Covers

The room had fallen into silence as the four of them waited, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. All eyes were on Corven as they stood by, expecting a decision.

Finally, he spoke.

"I can’t agree to that if I don’t know what Rose will be doing while I head to the baroness."

Rose blinked, clearly surprised—not because of the concern itself, but because it came so naturally from him. It wasn’t affection in the romantic sense, but it was a level of care she hadn’t expected right now.

She smiled, crossing her arms loosely, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

"Always so caring. Thank you..." she said softly, her voice gentler than usual. It was a rare moment of softness between all the tension.

Irsted, never one for lingering emotions, waved off Corven’s concern with a confident scoff.

"Do you really think anyone could get past me? Anyone who wants to hurt her would have to get through me first."

It wasn’t just bravado—Irsted was the real deal. A frontline monster in both strength and sheer presence. If there was anyone built for standing between danger and his allies, it was him.

A walking fortress.

And Trish? She wasn’t far behind. Kind but quiet, and precise—she might not boast, but her efficiency in combat spoke volumes. Combined with Rose’s own formidable physical abilities, the trio was anything but vulnerable.

Still, Corven hesitated.

He couldn’t help it. Rose wasn’t just another companion—she was his first anchor in this world. The first one he adventured with, who fought with him, who helped him when he didn’t know where to go. That kind of bond didn’t fade just because she had capable allies.

His silence didn’t go unnoticed.

Rose stepped forward with a light smile and pressed a kiss to his cheek, brief but affectionate. The gesture pulled him back into the moment.

"Don’t worry too much," she whispered, slipping something into his palm.

A black gemstone—cool to the touch, dense with energy.

"The baroness had this delivered. Said it’s for your peace of mind. If you use it, I’ll teleport to your location instantly. And if you’re still hesitant... it glows when the time is right."

Corven studied the stone in his hand. It looked ordinary, but his instincts told him otherwise. The magical weight it carried was unmistakable.

’A portable recall beacon? I wonder if I can get more of these...’

He could already imagine the market value of something like this.

The tension in his shoulders eased, at least slightly. But another issue lingered in the back of his mind.

His blood reserves were at an all-time low.

Yet, as if they’d anticipated it, Irsted and Trish had already dealt with it.

In the far corner of the room sat a large sack—its contents unmistakable even before he peeked inside. Fresh vampire bodies. Four of them. Blood still warm. Recently dead.

Corven gave a stunned smile, a mix of awe and disbelief.

’How the hell did they get all this in here without setting off alarms...?’

He had a hundred questions, but now wasn’t the time for any of them. There were more pressing matters.

– Blood (40 Units)

Irsted approached, glancing briefly at Lilian’s sleeping form before returning his gaze to Corven.

"Now then. Ready?"

Corven sighed, rolling his neck.

"I’m as ready as a farmer going to war."

Irsted chuckled, tension momentarily giving way to dry humor.

"Well, at least you’re ready."

There wasn’t much left to say. After a brief exchange of farewells, the trio departed, leaving Corven behind with Lilian. Rose lingered just a second longer, shooting him a sideways grin as she slipped through the door.

’Don’t get too steamy without me.’

Her voice echoed in his head even after she was gone. It was a joke, obviously, but the way she said it caught him off guard. Typical Rose. He didn’t mind—he’d grown to like that about her.

"Now then..."

He turned his attention back to Lilian, still asleep in bed. The room was quiet again, just the two of them.

"Time to wake her up."

He leaned down and gently tapped her cheek, a teasing motion more than anything.

"Mmmhh..." Lilian groaned, her voice muffled as she stretched, arms rising lazily above her head. For someone who thrived on blood and night, she slept with the peacefulness of someone who hadn’t just drained him dry a few hours ago.

She sat up, blinking away the grogginess.

"Are we heading off now?" she asked, straight to the point.

Corven raised a brow. He wasn’t expecting her to be so sharp immediately.

Then again, it was the only reason he’d wake her up.

"Yeah. But I wouldn’t mind a little more rest."

He sighed with a half-smile.

"Cheers to that," Lilian muttered, rising from the bed with a natural elegance that seemed unfair. Her pale skin glistened with leftover sweat, hair falling over her shoulders in gentle waves.

"You admiring me?" she teased, catching his lingering gaze.

"Am I not allowed to?" he replied smoothly.

She laughed, snapping her fingers. A shimmer passed over her body, and in a blink, clothing wrapped around her. Not armor—far from it. It was a refined, elegant dark gown, soft as velvet and definitely not made for battle.

But for mingling with royals? It was perfect.

"Is this suitable?" she asked, spinning slightly for effect.

Corven nodded. "More than. The more attention you draw, the less likely they’ll move against you openly."

Unlike before, she had recovered enough strength to activate her equipment—clearly enchanted, possibly bonded to her aura. She looked fully restored now, poised and regal.

He turned toward the exit.

"Let’s get going."

But Lilian didn’t move.

He looked back, and found her pouting slightly.

"Are you always this cold to people you just slept with?" she asked, only half-teasing.

Corven smirked.

"Are you in the mood for some roleplay?"

She raised an eyebrow. "It makes us less conspicuous, you know."

And she was right. A noblewoman and her personal aide. It was a believable cover—one that would keep suspicion low. Her kidnapping wasn’t public knowledge yet, and most assumed the heir of Heist wouldn’t walk around so openly.

It was just plausible enough to work.

Corven straightened his back and adjusted his tie, shifting into character with theatrical flair.

"Well of course, princess."

’I already feel like dying from saying that alone...’

Lilian gave him a look of mock approval.

The game had changed, and so had their roles.

Even if it was scuffed, chaotic, and stitched together with improvisation—it would hold.

And right now, that was all they needed.