"Lord Duke, your dinner is ready!"
Zane sat on the icy stone chair, staring dumbfounded at the mottled walls around him and the medieval-style dining implements arranged on the wooden table before him.
Where on earth had he ended up? Just before falling asleep, he'd been in his university dormitory—how had he blinked and found himself here?
Before he could collect his thoughts, that eerie voice sounded again beside him.
"Lord Duke?"
A shiver ran through Zane. He turned his head and peered into the shadowy corner at his side.
A ghastly, ravaged face slowly emerged from the darkness, its murky eyes fixed on Zane with puzzled intensity.
Suppressing his physical revulsion, Zane pointed at the table in front of him and nodded as calmly as he could.
"Just set it down there."
The creature raised its arm, draped in rotting flesh, and placed a lavishly ornate—but filthy—iron platter before Zane.
As the platter passed beneath Zane's nose, a fierce scent of fresh blood assaulted him.
He gagged reflexively, then looked down at the platter. Sure enough, it wasn't food at all but a pool of blood and several chunks of decaying meat.
"You want me to eat this?"
Zane's voice betrayed his shock despite his efforts to stay composed.
"Hm?" The creature glanced at him, curiosity deepening. "This is your favorite meal every time you awaken from your slumber. The blood comes from the Blood Slave we captured not long ago down the mountain—a virgin no older than eighteen…"
Duke? Slumber? Blood Slave? Favorite dish?
Had he really transmigrated as a vampire!?
Hold on—judging by this strange environment, maybe he had.
But the transmigration hadn't been thorough: at least Zane's dietary habits remained those of a normal human.
Zane stared at the bloody platter, terrified of showing even the slightest disgust. He feared the creature beside him would discover his true identity and sink its fangs into his neck.
"Ahem, ahem…"
He cleared his throat twice, feigning calm, and met the creature's gaze steadily.
"Well, I've been asleep a long time, and I'm not very hungry yet—my head's still a bit foggy… I happen to have a few questions for you."
"Questions?"
The creature blinked, its confusion deepening.
"Of course! After such a long sleep, who knows if any outsiders have broken in while I was unconscious. And you—are you still the same you who waited on me when I first fell asleep?"
Zane resorted to accusing first, and after a few seconds of mental overload, the creature bowed its head respectfully.
"Lord Duke, Chunk of Flesh will forever be your loyal servant! After all, you gave me life!"
Chunk of Flesh?
The name was odd, but fitting for this monster—he really did look like a patchwork of random meat fragments.
As for granting it life, it must have been that Vampire Duke who used some blood magic or other spell to make this heap of rotting flesh able to speak and walk.
"Very well, then answer my first question!"
Zane pointed a finger at his own nose.
"Who am I?"
A huge question mark appeared on Chunk of Flesh's dull, patchwork face.
But it was clear he dared not disobey his master's command, so he answered obediently,
"You are the immortal Duke Dracula! Master of the entire Howling Castle! The most fearsome demon on the Northern Ens Continent! The Church's number-one most-wanted fugitive! A nightmare to Templar Knights and Exorcists alike…"
"Stop, stop, stop!"
Zane hurriedly cut off Chunk of Flesh, a bead of cold sweat trickling down his forehead.
Duke Dracula? Howling Castle? Northern Ens Continent?
Wasn't that straight out of that knightly novel Zane had read?
And he remembered that in that novel, Duke Dracula was a very short-lived, background character—right at the beginning, all the righteous forces of the Northern Ens Continent laid siege to him. The protagonist used that very siege as an opportunity to meet various heroes and begin his path to defy the heavens!
Could he really have transmigrated into that novel—and become one of its minor bosses?
At that thought, Zane quickly asked Chunk of Flesh,
"Um, while I was asleep, no one came looking to give me trouble, right?"
"Not for now," Chunk of Flesh replied, and Zane felt some of his tension ease.
"But your humble servant has received intelligence that Grand Duke Lucas of the Duchy of Winterscar is leading his five thousand knights here to meet their deaths!"
Zane's newly eased heart leapt into his throat, and the muscles in his face twitched.
The Duchy of Winterscar? Five thousand… knights!?
He looked at Chunk of Flesh in bewilderment and asked,
"Does that duke hold a grudge against me? Why would he bring five thousand knights to lay siege?"
"Oh, nothing much," Chunk of Flesh said casually. "It's simply because your humble servant captured Grand Duke Lucas's daughter, Lila. To become your Blood Slave is their family's greatest honor! Yet here they are, coming to their doom—truly ungrateful!"
"Ah?!"
Zane stared at Chunk of Flesh in shock, then pointed at the platter before him.
"The eighteen-year-old virgin you mentioned just now—she wouldn't happen to be…"
"No," Chunk of Flesh shook his head.
Not her—thank goodness. As long as she's alive, there's still a chance to negotiate.
"Lila isn't yet eighteen. The Blood Slave presented to you this time is the daughter of the Northern Templar Order's commander, Isabella."
"Hm?"
Zane's eyelid twitched as he murmured to himself,
"Northern Templar Order… how many Blood Slaves did you capture this time?"
"Seven in total, more than enough for you to enjoy for quite a while, my lord."
"Besides the Grand Duke of Winterscar and the Northern Templar commander's daughter, who are the rest?"
"Oh, nothing much. Among the others is the Holy Maiden of the Church…"
Zane's heart skipped a beat.
"The eldest princess of the Kingdom of Lionheart."
Zane tried to rise from his chair, only to discover his legs felt like jelly.
"The sister of the legendary Demon Hunter."
Zane glanced around, searching for a side door to slip away unnoticed.
"And a pair of twin Elf sisters from the Celestial Canopy Forest!"
Unfortunately, he couldn't find any secret doors, and had no choice but to flop back onto the icy stone chair.
He looked at Chunk of Flesh, whose face bore a hint of pride, opened his mouth as if to curse, but found himself at a loss for words.
As a background character in the novel, the author hadn't bothered to explain why Vampire Duke had been besieged, and when he'd read it, Zane hadn't given it much thought.
It turned out it was all thanks to this damned Chunk of Flesh!
Zane rubbed his head, collected his thoughts, then asked Chunk of Flesh the crucial question.
"When will Grand Duke Lucas and his five thousand knights arrive?"
"By my humble estimation, there are two more months to go."
Two months… hmm, that was plenty of time to sneak out of this hellhole.
"But their vanguard has already reached the foot of Skull Mountain; they should be at your castle within three days at most!"
Three days?
Three days!!!
Hell, he couldn't even figure out this damn castle's layout in three days!
A thousand curses raced through Zane's mind, and he was itching to punch Chunk of Flesh in the face.
Just then, a ping sounded inside Zane's mind.
[System detected the Host's mind is filled with despair. Pain Collection System activated!]
A system? We're saved!
Zane felt a surge of joy and hurriedly asked inwardly:
"How do I use this Pain Collection System?"
[The Host can gather all Negative Emotions—pain, sorrow, humiliation, despair… Once enough emotions are collected, the Host can unlock the Talent Tree to gain new Talents and strengthen abilities!]
As the system's voice faded, a panel suddenly appeared before Zane:
[Name: Zane]
[Title: Lord of the Howling Castle]
[Combat Power: 10]
[Unlocked Talents: None]
[Negative Emotion Points: 0]
[Available Talent Unlock: Vampiric Touch (requires 50 Negative Emotion Points)]
Vampiric Touch? He had no idea how useful it might be, but if he wanted to survive, he'd have to count on it.
As for collecting Negative Emotion Points… there was no chance of getting them from Chunk of Flesh—this guy didn't look like he had any emotions.
If that was the case, then he'd have to…
A feral grin spread across Zane's face as he murmured:
"Princess Lila, don't blame me—blame your father for being too damn fast!"