Chapter 83
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Floor 9 - Lv.60 Weaklings (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
If we assume the Labyrinth is purely a game, then vampires are a race with unnecessarily convoluted mechanics crammed into them.
To put it bluntly, the devs wanted to recreate the vampires from legends.
So they stuffed in this ability and that one willy-nilly, only to realize it was way too overpowered.
They panicked and slapped on an equal number of drawbacks in a rush.
This is confirmed fact. The planning team lead spilled it while drunk.
I wondered if a team lead should really be blabbing that to a random player, but then again, inviting a random player to an after-work booze-up is pretty weird too.
Truth be told, the title was just "team lead" in a tiny indie studio—nothing impressive.
That quirky indie vibe made the game a mess of complexity, but it also made it feel authentic.
Indie spirit boils down to obsession, or artisan pride.
The vampires' advantages, faithfully jammed in, become overwhelmingly powerful when the drawbacks lose meaning and the strengths get amplified instead.
A blizzard-ravaged night is exactly that.
I'm a walking corpse who barely feels the cold, while they're living humans creaking along in frozen bodies.
I fling the door open. The ambushers flinch.
Bats scatter from my body in a flurry of wings. The enemies aren't total idiots.
"Vampire!"
"Fall back! Group up! Whether bitten or carded, it can't be a high-rank one!"
The mages prepare spells. A few archers aim at the open door. From inside, the Girl slams it shut.
I catch a flicker of puzzlement on the archers' faces.
'Planning to take us all on solo?' That sort of doubt.
The bats each have their own fields of vision.
More than any cloning jutsu. They're endless copies of something not even human.
I scout the enemies from every angle.
Nine in total. Precisely one short of the max party limit for peak difficulty.
Not for survival constraints, but to maximize gains in this free-for-all PK floor.
Roguelikes are all about every choice being a gamble.
The bats aren't so much controlled by me as they are me.
They swoop in on 3D paths, blanketing the foes.
Six of the nine stiffen at the eerie evasion maneuvers.
Veterans who've tangled with vampires before. They spot the skill gap instantly.
I hurl bats at the faces of those who can attack from range.
Exiles who reached Floor 9 respond perfectly. They protect the ranged dealers.
Flashing blades. Blazing spellfire.
Bats sliced in half. Bats crumbling into flames.
Among them, only heat-based attacks need dodging. Nothing else can damage the blood they're made of.
The other bats seize the gap, striking from below, above, every angle beyond flat human perception.
"Attacking the bats still hurts us! Drain their blood!"
Best response when you don't know your foe well. Normal vampires can't fully control their blood.
Fallen dead bats become uncontrolled blood, scattered and frozen in the snow—impossible to reabsorb up close.
Humans are methodically whittling down the vampire.
One sharp mind in the bunch. Handling it like a pro.
Knows his stuff too.
Even so, an archer party's no pushover—there's a reason they're faring this poorly.
I ignore non-fire attacks.
Vampire bats get slashed and plummet. The white snow forest stains crimson with blood.
A few slip through the blizzard.
They latch onto necks over arms, static spots with less movement, and bite deep.
Blood flows.
Real vampire bats are tiny and cute.
A vampire's are huge and vicious.
The feel of a furry beast on your back, alien fangs sinking into your nape—a mage screams in horror.
Blizzard blinds them to each other's positions.
Friendly fire erupts.
A mage drops, arrow in his shoulder.
"Damn it! Stay calm! Just oversized bats! Bites won't kill! Every one you drop costs the bloodsucker a limb!"
The more seasoned six regain composure fast.
Solid command presence.
The bearded leader shines. Spear slung on his back, he swings a machete.
His strikes are bat-proof. Blood flows instantly.
Before a minute passes, flying bats dwindle sharply.
A couple more latch onto necks after. They suck a bit, but die quick and scatter as blood.
"Burn the spilled blood just in case!"
The wounded mage grunts and conjures fire.
By then, the ground everywhere is slick with dead bat blood. About half my body's volume.
Undead perk: Maintain near-peak combat power right up to death.
The enemy leader starts chuckling like it's nothing.
Vampires are tough foes. Exile vampires, especially skilled ones, even more so.
But know the mechanics, and countermeasures are simple.
Attrition wars aren't ideal normally, but with numbers advantage, it's perfect.
Prime Exile vampire weakness: Can't use Healing Springs.
Fatal flaw.
No sudden recovery mid-damage, no crits healing you up.
Vampires heal only by sucking blood.
But the bats only nicked a few lightly—didn't draw proper blood.
I'm the one worn down big time.
Dunno why he came solo, but this ends it.
"Good! Charge inside now. Vampire's neutralized!"
Won't pull off anything major.
Doubts creep in, but they storm the cabin. Expect an ambush on entry, so the shield warrior leads.
But the nagging doubt vanishes under overconfidence the next instant.
No worthy foes in the last month.
Four parties allied, owning this floor for ages.
Fresh prey? The more, the better.
Until the wet squelch of flesh piercing.
"Huh?"
His instep burns like fire.
A long red spike juts up.
The moment victory feels certain. The moment you think the foe's crippled.
That's when they're easiest.
Attacks you'd normally shrug off claim lives.
Barbaroy's amazing authority isn't just pulling and absorbing blood.
But most runs' Barbaroys never master the applications.
It's a mindset thing. Even vampires were originally human.
Medieval fantasy humans, at that.
They're not dumb. But their experiences are limited.
Magic clans already demand endless study.
Vampire powers are just as tricky as spells.
Most vampires didn't choose it—they got turned by accident, survived, became Vampire Lords and clan masters.
Why would ex-normal humans obsess over combat optimization?
That's why skilled Exiles are strong.
They must win fights to advance.
Barbaroy probably knew blood control could work this way.
Never practiced it, though.
Inefficient as an attack, right?
Wrong. It looks inefficient because of lack of skill.
Blood spikes erupt from the floor, skewering everywhere.
Piercing wounds bleed out, adding more blood to my control.
Blood escaping flesh turns traitor mid-flow, stabbing its owners.
Wounds gape. No healing.
Not a trickle like red steam—blood gushes like open faucets.
A few shut their eyes in despair.
Too late. No counter works. Their own blood is my weapon.
Others chug Healing Potions desperately.
While the spring's power lingers, my control nullifies, blood burning away.
That hurt like hell. I detach one bat to roll in the snow, enduring.
Potions run dry? It regenerates, swells, and gushes anew.
A wave of blood sweeps through, pulping humans.
The red whirlpool fades. Nothing stirs.
Mummy-pale corpses sink into snow, gone.
Spotless around.
No one will find a trace.
Not even a single bloodstain.
"Urp."
"Vampires burp if they drink too much blood?"
"Different from food in your gut, but kinda. Hunger sated means fullness too."
"Weird."
She's eyeing a basketball-sized blood orb floating lazily.
Even I think it's weird. No spell handles blood like this.
It's not even magic. Just... works somehow.
Spells could mimic it, but efficiency would suck.
Authority's Mantle makes it no-cost.
Power handed down through clan masters over eons.
Other races have baseless powers like this too. Mutations from long lives, maybe.
Common in long-lived, power-hoarding races.
Dragons, spirits.
Ogre instinct magic? Probably similar.
The kid's pale face is out cold, but vampire bloodlust can't be ignored. Dribble some in her mouth—she gulps it greedily.
Body's honest, conscious or not.
Color returns. Vampires are made of blood; pale means major loss.
"She'll wake soon."
Then the Orc elder, learning stretches from the youngest, spoke up.
"Already fought? Many foes?"
"Bagged nine. Probably not all—alliances form in places like this."
"Hm. Time to sharpen the axe."
Most shamans were once warriors.
They always packed their beloved double-headed axes post-shamanhood.
Greenskins gonna Greenskin.
"Tomorrow, taste some blood."
I just leveled up 9 times. Points useful, but for vampires, blood trumps levels.
"Speaking of, didn't your level drop with the race change?"
"Where'd you hear that?"
"Live long, useless knowledge piles up."
"Bitten, not carded, so fine."
"Cards? What's that?"
Casual chit-chat flowed. Outside, blizzard raged anew.
Thus passed a peaceful, quiet night.
Next morning, up early checking the Mind Map.
Precisely, no sleep. Seen races that don't need it. Short meditation reboots the brain fine.
Ditching human perks gains in odd spots.
Truth is, I'd slacked on it lately.
No rest needed now.
Invest that time in pondering.
Vampire rank buffs Mind Map skills toward vampiric, eerie ones.
Higher rank, more so.
If freely wielded like magic, no skills needed—but innate traits demand them.
Wolf/bat forms, blood sucking: basics. Poke points randomly, you get 'em.
No rank gain? No advanced skills.
Need [Mist Form]. Like bats, but finer, higher physical resist.
Weak to AoE, but key to vampire cheese.
Other blood control skills? Mantle covers, skip.
Vital: [Blood Magic] passive.
Lets blood sub for mana cost.
Not hyper-efficient, but human-base vampires match humans magically.
Operating beyond your mana pool? Huge diff.
Floor 6's [Meteor Swarm] still can't cast normally. Mantle hack made it spammable—far off yet.
[Bastard] for non-base-race blood? Good grab.
High-level like [Daywalker] sunlight immunity, though.
Time to check my vampire rank.
Game had no in-game check. Guesstimate via blood intake.
Now real, methods exist.
Plunge dagger deep near heart, carve to expose it.
Visually, the still heart's dead-black.
Vampire kid tier still.
Hearts redden, vitalize with rank.
Kid: Fresh undead, kid-treated in vampire society.
Target racial skill: Just [Mist Form].
Know Floors 10+ vaguely—no need hoard points.
Dump all but 9.
Then chaos purple mist wraps the invested branches.
Effect only when race accepts faith buffs.
Purple haze fades, leaving one ornate gold-bordered skill fruit.
[Spring of Blood Refined by Chaos]
Nice. Boosts rank-up efficiency and blood spring refill rate.
No wonder Chaos Vampire's meta.
Guess that's how I hit Vampire Lord.
How many left on this floor? Got time now. Worst case, hunt humans while waiting.
Girl's reaction worries me a bit—test waters. Mental management too.
Others stir one by one. Kid's face relaxed, but eyes stay shut.
Little mage and her temp allies sleep in too.
Check weather?
Sounds say blizzard stopped.
Door snowed shut. Vampire strength shoves it open.
Arrow flies in.
I was dumbfounded.
Slams door quick.
Piercing wound, but pulls free and heals.
"Hey, I'll hunt you at night. Wait."
Sky overcast, blizzard done, sun up. Harmful to vampires regardless.
Group circled, prepped since dawn.
Tiresome.
No ads, no honey pot—how'd they swarm?
Probably allied with yesterday's crew.
What if they killed everyone else?
Vampire Lord's no cakewalk.
Labyrinth Residents hit that rank after centuries.
Need to farm this floor's stragglers efficiently.
No time, so capture alive haphazardly.
Dunk in Healing Spring, pull out, duplicate blood.
Not infinite thanks to holy aura, but solid farm method.