In a quiet village within Ares Kingdom—now the strongest realm in the world—Jenny once lived a simple, gentle life.
One late afternoon, as dusk settled all over the village, she drew water from the village well, preparing for the evening meal and a modest bath for her family.
Fate, however, had woven a darker thread.
From the shadows emerged Dracula—the Vampire King. In one swift, horrifying moment, he lunged at Jenny. His fangs sank deep into her neck, draining her of life and transforming her against her will into something monstrous: an Ereborn Vampire.
Unlike common vampires, Ereborn vampires were cursed with a relentless, maddening thirst for blood. The more they resisted, the more violently they lost control—blinded by instinct, their minds unraveling under the pressure of their cravings. Worse yet, they bore a rare and painful weakness: even the faintest touch of sunlight could burn through their flesh like fire.
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Overwhelmed by a surge of uncontrollable bloodlust, Jenny lost herself. In a tragic frenzy, she attacked the village—her actions a storm of grief and primal hunger.
The carnage escalated until, in one fleeting moment of clarity, she drank the blood of her husband—a final, agonizing plea from the man she loved.
"No! This can't be happening!" Jenny screamed, her voice breaking with horror as the full realization struck.
Terrified by what she had done, she fled into the night. Villagers armed with stakes and torches chased her through the darkness. Alone and drowning in guilt, Jenny found refuge in a secluded cave at the forest's edge.
There, she shackled herself with chains, desperate to contain the monstrous hunger within.
But it was all in vain.
Whenever the bloodlust awakened, it seized her body completely. Once again, she lost control.
This time, she returned to what remained of her village.
The disaster spared no one—men, women, or children.
Only when she drained the last surviving villager did her mind return. She blinked through the haze and saw the corpse at her feet, the blood on her hands, and the scarlet smears streaking the village windows.
A bitter truth clawed its way into her heart:
She had become a monster.
Guilt and sorrow twisted in her chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she wailed into the night, her cries echoing through the forest like the mournful howl of a dying soul.
When the first light of dawn spilled across the land, sunlight reached the cave. Her skin began to burn.
Jenny stepped into it.
She embraced the searing agony, ready to meet her end.
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But again, the bloodlust surged.
Instinct overpowered reason.
Her body moved on its own.
When she next awakened, she stood in the middle of a quiet road.
Slaughter surrounded her.
Shattered carriage wheels, a lifeless horse, the butchered corpses of knights, a coachman—and finally, a nobleman—sprawled on the ground.
In her arms: the bloodied corpse of a noblewoman.
Jenny raised her head to the sky and wept blood.
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In the harsh light of day, she struggled to tame her cravings. She tried feeding on animals, on lesser monsters—nothing worked. The thirst for human blood remained deep and relentless.
To keep herself in control, she made a dreadful vow:
If she were ever to feed on a human again, she would drain them completely—leaving no blood behind, no lingering hunger, and no chance of losing herself further. Fewer victims. Fewer regrets.
Despite her resolve, her reputation spread. A monster, cursed and uncontrollable.
Before long, they issued a monster subjugation quest:
8★ monster. Kill the Ereborn Vampire.
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Weeks later
Deep in the ancient forest, Gneiss—an enigmatic Ancient Dragon obsessed with knowledge—roamed in human form.
In this guise, he appeared as a tall, regal man with flowing white hair that shimmered faintly under the forest light, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold the weight of centuries. His presence was both majestic and unnerving as if the very air grew still in his wake. Dressed in a simple yet elegant sleeveless and pale blue tunic, loose white pants, and barefoot, he carried himself with a quiet seriousness—like one who had witnessed history itself.
He wandered the wild, seeking to understand the balance of predator and prey.
To his surprise, he came upon the corpses of two Great wolves—beasts three times larger than normal wolves, with four red eyes, two tails, and razor-sharp claws.
"Strange. One of the alphas in this forest?" Gneiss murmured.
As he stepped between the lifeless bodies, a peculiar iron-like scent piqued his curiosity.
"A strange odor… it reeks of something, not of these woods," he said, following the trail with deliberate steps. His investigation led him to more carcasses, each drained of blood—an unmistakable mark of vampire feeding.
"It wasn't a human. It must be a vampire," he concluded, the pieces of the puzzle aligning in his ancient mind.
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The trail led him to a dark cave, the source of the unsettling scent. Inside, a scene of quiet devastation greeted him: scattered animal corpses—and, at the heart of it all, Jenny. She stood in the dim light, looking almost lifeless.
"Stay away, or you'll die," Jenny warned, her voice cold and trembling.
Gneiss regarded her with a mix of disdain and curiosity. "And someone as insignificant as you dare to threaten me?" he replied, his tone laced with quiet arrogance.
Silence stretched between them.
Then, without warning, Jenny lunged. Her attacks were wild and erratic, driven by unrestrained bloodlust. Gneiss, with centuries of experience, easily evaded her claws and countered with a forceful punch to her gut. The blow lifted her off the ground, and as she hung in the air, her gaze met an orb of white fire gathering in his other hand—a searing counterstrike.
The fireball struck her squarely in the chest. Jenny staggered, her consciousness fraying as her bloodlust surged once again. In a final, desperate whisper, she murmured, "No… at this rate, you're gonna die," as though warning both herself and him.
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When Jenny regained consciousness again, something was different.
Her bloodlust had finally subsided—but in its place bloomed a searing, unbearable pain in her chest. She gasped, eyes wide with confusion and agony. Then she saw it.
Gneiss's arm was thrust straight through her body, his hand wrapped gently—almost reverently—around something pulsing and warm.
Her heart.
For a long, breathless second, she stared in stunned silence. The realization washed over her like a cold tide. Her heart—her very essence—was in the hand of the one who had defeated her.
Jenny smiled faintly, almost in relief. "I see… I'm dying."
Gneiss tilted his head. "And you're happy about that?"
Jenny coughed blood. "You see… I never wanted to kill anyone."
Slowly, imperceptibly at first, her body began to crumble. One heartbeat after another, she turned into a cascade of shimmering silver ash that swirled delicately around the fragile remnant of her heart.
As her heart, too, began to disintegrate, Gneiss closed his hand gently, encasing the glowing ashes. In that hushed, sacred moment, he invoked his ancient ability—Appraisal—focusing all his wisdom and magical insight on the remains.
And there, in a flood of silent truth, the tragic tale of Jenny unfolded before him: a kind woman turned into a vampire by Dracula, her soul buried under a curse of uncontrollable hunger. A struggle against the monster within. A lifetime of guilt, and the will to die before hurting anyone else again.
As the last echo of her life faded, a deep and consuming rage ignited within Gneiss. His eyes, usually calm with scholarly detachment, now burned with quiet fury.
In a low, measured voice, heavy with wrath, he spoke:
"Dracula… I'm going to kill you."
Though his words carried no thunderous roar, a silent wave of pure, terrifying anger spread through the forest. Every living creature felt it—as if the earth itself trembled beneath the weight of his vow.