Chapter 114
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: 12th Floor - Lv. 355 Straggler Clans (5)
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The clan master was leisurely shaking a cocktail shaker at the bar.
It was a cocktail that needed ten minutes of shaking, but with a vampire's endurance, that was no issue at all.
This place was a fairly upscale bar, and the clan master was satisfied with his cover identity.
Alcohol was a fine hobby for someone who lived through long ages.
Magically aged wine only grew deeper in flavor even after centuries—it never turned to vinegar.
And he could brew it himself, harvest it himself.
Whiskey was the same. Long life opened up certain avenues of enjoyment.
The cocktail went out to a customer, and business quieted down.
On this planet where every day of the year was night, there was no set time for drinking.
People just came whenever they felt like it.
Even accounting for that, there were no customers right now.
He figured it made sense.
Vampires must have gathered thick in the area.
The residents of this lawless zone knew better than anyone how to preserve their necks.
Those who couldn't sense the omens of trouble were already dead.
Even the rich and powerful with bodyguards didn't stick their faces into such spots.
Sure enough, the bar owner stormed in with a scowl.
"Damn it, something's about to go down. Mosquitoes are swarming. Proboy Clan, I bet. You stay put here too."
"Yes, boss."
The clan master calmly polished the glassware.
The owner warned the few customers about the commotion outside.
Grousing aside, they stayed meekly inside.
A shop under someone's protection was generally safer than the streets. At least you wouldn't lose your life.
There wasn't much glassware to polish.
Blame the sparse crowd.
The magic lantern flickered dimly. He'd have to replace it later.
He hoped he wouldn't need to step in.
No reason to for capturing a single exile party alive.
The dwarf arms dealer was capable, reputation aside.
He'd even negotiated to deploy him only if needed.
The offer: a massive blood supply.
He knew exactly what they wanted and shoved in an irresistible amount.
In that short time, he'd gotten the okay and set things in motion.
As he stretched with a yawn, his body stiff from the ache—
The door opened.
A customer? He glanced over, and his expression hardened slightly.
Obviously a vampire. Thick cloak to ward off potential solar scanners.
Emblazoned with the Proboy Clan's crossed swords.
The owner started to say something but shut his mouth.
The customers fell silent in unison.
The vampire rushed straight over.
No, please no. He didn't want to hunt for another job. He loved this bar.
But no use. The clan elder bolted to his clan master and reported.
"Master, big trouble. That exile party has a vampire, right?"
Tch. No helping it.
He'd tried to whisper, but it leaked out plenty.
The customers' jaws were already on the floor. The owner stared blankly, unable to keep up.
Then he edged away slyly.
"So?"
"It's a Vampire Lord. And the clan master. An exile clan master."
"How do you know it's the clan master?"
You couldn't tell just by looking. Wait—exile clan master?
Unless some new clan popped up, there was only one such being.
The most infamous exile, broadcast across the universe by Federation propaganda.
"Red cape? Little scarf thing, split into two prongs."
"Ah, yes! That's it."
"You blind as a knot hole? Why didn't you say something when you saw that?"
"Sorry."
Even as he said it, he knew. Who'd think that? Plenty of exiles turned vampire, some even high-class.
Hard to spot visually. Spotting it via ability use and rushing over was impressive enough.
"Everyone pulled back?"
"Yes! Handled it!"
"Get the rest out too, fast. We'll play it like we never stirred anything suspicious."
That was the plan—then the Proboy Clan master had another thought.
Hm. Right, no law saying we have to back off here.
Might piss off the Federation a bit, but that wasn't a real problem.
Had they ever not pissed them off?
Those Federation bastards were all Barbaroi Clan vampires, and plenty from that clan had been hunted down after getting booted.
Immortals didn't just die off naturally. Grudges festered forever.
"Hah, they twist it like we sold out our kin. Easterners and their mindset..."
His hometown flashed in mind—the Empire's capital. "Eastern" was a term from there.
Kids these days probably didn't even know what it meant. Directions like east-west blurred in this era.
The elder who'd started to dash out just watched his pondering clan master.
Smart enough to guess what he was thinking.
"Hey, we never noticed a thing. Got it?"
They hadn't flaunted authority first, so they hadn't known.
Now that it was obvious, they'd throw a tantrum and not back down quietly.
The Federation lunatics were still at war anyway.
The capital's fall was symbolic at best.
Ogres held real power; no Orc Emperor's fate would topple the Empire.
On this remote planet, snaring their great warrior... not a bad idea.
By the time his stats truly spiked, with massive bonuses kicking in and the mind map branches sprawling far—
The Girl had picked up a bunch of miscellaneous skills.
Uncle said once the core skill sets were complete, pick by preference.
Core ones: ample [Dagger Mastery] stacks, active [Impact Enhancement], active [Hero Landing]. Plus several durability passives.
Human flesh didn't harden like armor through training. But exile bodies could.
Warrior passives from pumping strength often did that.
The Girl had feared skin-toughening meant actual damage buildup.
But nope—just surreal bonuses. Lucky.
With free rein to branch as she liked, she'd gone wild like a gacha pull.
One caught Uncle's eye.
[Fall Acceleration]
Ignores freefall speed; instant drop from midair
Uncle said it was trash—normal folk couldn't handle the impact.
But.
In skilled hands, game-changer.
[Hero Landing] ran on the Labyrinth's mysterious principles by default.
Or rather, it half-assed physics in Labyrinth style.
Higher drop = bigger radius and power, but faster/harder drop amplified it further.
The Girl gripped her twin daggers, posed, and triggered skills in sequence.
[Impact Enhancement]
Enhances all physical impacts for duration
[Hero Landing]
Impact zone preview on activation
Covers about 25% of the mansion.
Target: Healing Spring.
[Fall Acceleration]
In 0.1 seconds, the Girl hit the Healing Spring.
An earthquake struck.
About now, he thought, turning to bats and scattering.
The ground quaked. The dwarves stopped shooting at him.
Flying kept him clear of the earth-shaking blow.
The unimaginable vibration toppled most of them.
Glancing at the Healing Spring: dwarves who'd been blasting it with rockets and high-pressure nozzles were goners.
The Girl winked at him, then wobbled a bit. Playing it off, but she was hurting.
Stamina drain must've been massive.
She'd climbed with just [Dash]. Landing probably shredded her body.
Max power output for her limits—humans die falling from that height.
Good thing he'd told her to aim for the spring; instant recovery.
Outside, the quake had them panicking and buzzing. Those couldn't enter.
Perception issue. They knew something was here, but the mansion was still invisible to them.
Healing Spring spawned with screening structures and total unawareness effect.
Only exiles who could see it naturally, or NPCs seeing one pass through, broke it.
Or we'd leave and it'd vanish.
No need to show it. Fight only up to mansion airspace—
Some entered.
The vampire who'd led him here. His entry flipped perceptions around him. Now it registered as a proper mansion.
And another beside him.
Dwarves and vampires who'd seen them poured in.
What a pain.
"It's collapsing?"
The old man muttered in disbelief.
He glanced at the other exiles; even the veteran Hunter gaped, floored.
The goddess's warning spared them major damage.
But watching the mansion crumble was mentally jarring.
Its durability wasn't low. Uncle's group felt advanced tech even the old man couldn't grasp from descriptions.
That iron door he'd smashed earlier wasn't plain steel.
Yet here it wobbled and fell?
"I've seen great warriors aplenty. Some scraped the earth with weapons to unleash rock tsunamis."
Earthquakes were different. As a shaman, he knew force scales.
Earthquakes were another league.
Seemed like overturning the crust, but really just overwhelming strength shredding and flinging surface layers.
"Exiles truly are astonishing."
If this synergy came from mind map skill combos—
He got why exiles scorned Labyrinth residents as NPCs.
Dashing through the now-vacant mansion, the old man asked:
"Think I could become an exile?"
"Dunno, but the leader there might know."
"Makes me wanna try. Thought they were pesky vermin till recently, but that power gets the blood pumping."
He slammed his hammer. Lightning raced along the ground.
Dwarves too off-balance to steady themselves convulsed and dropped.
Just stab as he passed.
A few human soldiers among them. The kid breezed by, draining blood without a care.
Then grimaced.
Hunter figured the milk tea flavor disappointed him.
Abandoning the armory search. Get out first, then hunker behind debris.
Found a window, smashed through together.
The kid and pint-sized mage cast spells for smooth landings.
Magic circles hovered, slowing their descent.
Outside was chaos.
Ground cracked wide, garden wrecked.
The Girl dashed up.
"Uncle's the best! Totally awesome! Super incredible!"
"Not sure this warrants such casual praise."
Hunter shook his head.
Out now, but no shots. Just dwarf corpses.
Exposed to quake without warning? Paralyzed.
Wide-area stun, basically.
Plenty of time for the Girl-shaped reaper to arrive.
Behind, the mansion shook and began collapsing. Get farther—dangerous.
But enemies surged forward. Not the entry group.
"Cover!"
Hunter yelled. They rushed to debris. The kid dragged the stunned dwarf arms dealer like a doll.
Vampires had guns too. Shoddy-looking, but energy-beam types.
Worse quality than dwarf gear.
"Stirring that mess up there'd be suicide, right?"
"Leader always said hold on flat ground."
The Girl buzzed with excitement at her own handiwork. Hunter had to rein her in.
Bats from above descended.
They splatted on ground and exploded. Reinforcements who'd never expected this freaked and retreated.
Hunter and the youngest provided covering fire.
Staggering vampires lost heads to the neutral blasts.
Return fire hit immediately. Cover rocks hissed and melted.
"Need to lob some grenades."
Losing the armory before finding it sucked.
Right then—
"Armory has to be inside the mansion?"
The pint-sized mage pointed. Mansion collapse cleared sightlines to something new.
Far from main entrance: basement access? Hidden before, now exposed by wreckage.
"That it?"
Party moved out. Leader said find the armory if possible.
"I'll hide here and do what you say?"
"Do that."
The Girl waved cheerily. Everyone looked intimidated.
Even orcs wouldn't wave so brightly amid flying bullets.
Bad news piled up. Vampires drew swords.
Proboy Clan.
Warrior-specialized bloodline.
And the one with the first vampire: probably clan master.
Light sheathed his blade—not tech.
Swordsman's glow for supernatural cutting and durability.
[Aura Blade]
Each swing erased ten bats. Time to stop.
Only one setup spawned a swordmaster vampire.
Proboy Clan master.
Face rang a bell.
A pro never forgot a face till the run ended.
Might meet again.
Halted bat barrage, reformed body.
Shots flew, but clan master blocked.
"Exiles causing havoc! Even crumbling my friend's mansion—how dare you!"
This guy's theatrical? Wait, where have I seen him?
Realization hit as he charged, sword drawn.
Blast flung him back. Like Dustburn and Barbaroi once.
Three clashes, then parted.
I said:
"Hey, you're the Eastern Gate Defense Captain, right?"
The guy commanding defenses at the border fortress when Lavahammer Battalion invaded. Remembered his dripping annoyance vibe.
Him, clan master?
"What bullshit?"
Proboy ignored and lunged.
"No, you know me! Come on!"
"Don't!"
Similar to Floor 4. Vampire swordmaster scowled and pressed.
I sighed deep, unleashing blood.
Body melted to blood, engulfed the swordmaster. Bound him. Unavoidable—it's fluid.
Slash all you want; aura blade couldn't hit surfaces well.
Warrior counterpick, really. Barbaroi never saw it coming.
Tight bind, blood thorn at heart. Ready to kill anytime.
The instantly subdued swordmaster looked dumbfounded.
Then his face regained that familiar annoyance, laziness, boredom from memory.
"Ugh. Nothing goes right. Hey, mister, passing ties are ties too. Spare me this once."
Weary eyes saying kill if you want.