Revival

Floor 6, The Dungeon

Michael staggered along the cold, unforgiving walls of the dungeon, his steps faltering as pain radiated from the gaping hole in his chest, now barely mended. His mana reserves were drained, leaving him as empty as the abyss that seemed to stretch endlessly in his mind. The phantom pains in his missing left arm pulsed in cruel rhythm, a constant reminder of his loss, yet he forced himself onward through the narrow, church-like corridors of this treacherous floor.

The walls loomed around him, their surface cold and slick with moisture, dim light flickering from the distant torches casting eerie shadows that danced like specters. Each step was a struggle, the weight of his injuries pressing down on him, but the determination in his heart drove him forward. He had come too far, endured too much to turn back now.

As he neared the end of the hallway, a towering door came into view, its presence commanding and ominous. The door was adorned with intricate carvings depicting religious figures, their forms draped in robes and their faces obscured, worshiped by a mass of faceless people. The sight of the door filled Michael with a mixture of awe and dread, as if it were both a gateway to salvation and a portal to damnation.

Before confronting whatever lay beyond, he decided to check the shop, hoping to find something, anything, that could help him survive the trials ahead. A weapon, perhaps, a scythe that could make use of the scythe mastery he had acquired but never fully utilized.

He summoned the shop menu, the familiar interface materializing before him, its cold, digital light a stark contrast to the ancient, oppressive atmosphere of the dungeon.

—

Shop Menu

[Weapons]

[Armor]

[Essentials]

[Artifacts]

[Materials]

[Non-Essentials]

[Lifeforms]

[Skills]

[Search...]

[Casino]

—

Before diving into the weapon section, curiosity led him to search for beast cores, hoping to find something within his limited resources. His heart raced with excitement as the results appeared.

—

Search Results

SS Beast Core: 2 Divine Crystals

S Beast Core: 1 Divine Crystal

—

His excitement grew as he realized that all three types of cores—minus, plus, and neutral—were priced the same. The SS+ Beast Core, within his reach for just two divine crystals, presented an opportunity beyond mere survival. It was a chance to revive Valencia, to bring back the one person who had sacrificed everything for him.

Michael quickly calculated the potential outcomes. If he purchased the SS+ Beast Core, he could uncombine it using his pouch, possibly ending up with additional cores. However, his brief hope of a profitable resell scheme faded when he discovered that buying and reselling cores would result in a loss.

Excitement warred with cold logic in his mind. The prospect of reviving Valencia was overwhelming, but so were the dangers that surrounded him. The dungeon was merciless, and in his current state, any wrong move could be his last. Would reviving Valencia be a blessing or a burden? Could he protect her in this perilous environment, or would she become another life lost under his watch?

He hesitated, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he leaned heavily against the cold stone wall. The towering door loomed before him, its carvings of worship and reverence mocking his plight. He had fought so hard, lost so much, and now the decision to bring Valencia back felt like both a salvation and a curse.

His mind raced, weighing the risks and benefits, but his heart kept returning to one truth: he had promised to bring her back. That promise had kept him alive when death seemed certain, and it was that promise that now demanded fulfillment.

With trembling hands, he opened the shop menu again, hovering over the purchase option. The SS+ Beast Core was right there, just a few taps away. His resolve hardened, memories of Valencia's sacrifice fueling his determination. She had given everything for him; now it was his turn to repay that debt.

Taking a deep breath, Michael made his decision. He tapped the screen, watching as the two divine crystals vanished from his inventory, replaced by the glowing SS+ Beast Core. The core radiated an ethereal light, warm and alive in his hand, as if it had been waiting for this very moment.

Michael wasted no time. He pulled the coffin from his inventory—the grim relic that had absorbed Valencia's soul. Silent since that fateful day, it now hummed with energy, as if sensing the core's presence.

The coffin's lid creaked open, revealing the dark, swirling void within. Michael placed the SS+ Beast Core inside, his heart pounding as the void consumed it. For a moment, nothing happened. The dungeon's silence pressed down on him, the tension almost unbearable.

Desperate, Michael drew the shadow dagger from his inventory. In one swift motion, he sliced into his left limb, letting more than a thousand milliliters of blood splatter into the open coffin. The coffin began to glow, the light growing brighter, spilling out into the narrow hall and casting long shadows on the walls.

The coffin shook, the energy within it intensifying. Michael stepped back, his breath caught in his throat as the swirling void shifted and churned. Suddenly, a selection of options appeared before him.

—

Race Selection:

Dwarf

Elf

Demon

Dragonoid

Faerie

[Hidden] Vampire

—

Michael scanned the list, searching for a familiar option. He searched for a full minute, desperately hoping to find "human," but the option was nowhere to be found. His heart sank, but he knew he had no choice. Hesitantly, he selected the hidden "Vampire" option, trusting that the hidden choice might offer something valuable.

The moment Michael made his selection, the coffin's shaking grew violent. The light became blinding, forcing him to shield his eyes. The entire dungeon seemed to tremble in response, as if the very structure was reacting to the powerful forces at play.

With a deafening roar, the light imploded back into the coffin, plunging the hallway into darkness. The air grew thick with anticipation, the scent of blood lingering like a heavy fog. Michael's heart raced as he waited, unsure of what he had just unleashed.

Then, a cold wind swept through the hall, and a faint, almost ethereal glow began to emanate from the coffin. This light was different—paler, colder, like moonlight. The coffin exploded like a grenade, revealing the transformation that had taken place inside.

Valencia emerged, her form slowly materializing from the radiant glow. Her skin, once warm, was now a shade paler, her eyes gleaming with a crimson hue that hadn't been there before. The tips of her jet-black hair were now tinged with scarlet, and her features, once soft and gentle, were sharper, more predatory, yet still undeniably hers. An aura of power and danger radiated from her, but beneath it all was a warmth that Michael recognized instantly.

She stepped out of the light, her movements fluid and graceful, like a shadow slipping through the night. Valencia looked at Michael, her crimson eyes locking onto his, and for a moment, there was only silence between them. The bond they shared had changed, forged anew in blood and power, but it remained unbroken.

"Michael," Valencia's voice was soft, carrying an undeniable strength laced with something ancient and potent. "What have you done?"

Michael felt a mix of relief and unease seeing her standing before him, alive but altered. "I… I had no other choice," he stammered, struggling to find the right words. "You were gone, and I needed you back. The coffin—it offered me a way to revive you, but… it changed you."

Valencia's gaze softened as she stepped closer. "I can feel the power," she whispered, almost to herself.

Her hand reached out, gently touching the spot where Michael had sliced his arm, the wound already beginning to heal. "And you sacrificed for me," she added, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "You gave your blood to bring me back."

Michael nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "I couldn't let you go, Valencia. I promised I'd bring you back, no matter what it took."

Valencia's eyes softened further, and she pulled him into a gentle embrace, her cold yet comforting presence soothing the turmoil within him. "Thank you, Michael," she murmured.

Michael pulled back slightly to look at her. "Forgive me, I knew you liked me. I always liked you too. But now… I'm like this, an angel missing an arm, and I made you a vampire. I always thought we had time, but I lost you."

Valencia smiled softly, her fangs barely visible. "Michael, you didn't lose me," she whispered, her voice steady and reassuring. "I'm still here, just… different. But I'm still the same person who cares about you. We've both changed, but that doesn't mean we're lost."

Her hand, cold yet gentle, cupped his face, her thumb brushing away the dirt and blood that streaked his cheek. "We've been through hell, and it's changed us. But we can still be together. We just have to face this new reality—together."

Michael felt a lump rise in his throat, the weight of everything he had endured pressing down on him. "I just wanted to protect you, Valencia," Michael confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I've only dragged you into more danger."

Valencia's expression softened, her hand still resting on his cheek. "Michael, you didn't drag me into anything. I chose to be with you, to stand by your side, no matter what. We're in this together, and that's how it's always been. I don't regret anything."

Her words were like a balm to his wounded soul, easing the guilt and self-loathing that had been gnawing at him. He had feared that reviving her might have condemned her to a life of suffering, but her unwavering support and affection gave him hope.

Valencia pulled him closer, her breath cool against his skin as she whispered, "We'll face whatever comes next together, Michael. And we'll survive. We're stronger than before, and no dungeon, no monster, will keep us apart."

Michael nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. The dungeon had thrown everything it had at him, trying to break him, to tear him apart from the inside out. But now, with Valencia by his side, he felt a surge of strength and resolve.

"Let's get through this," Michael said, his voice firm, determination blazing in his eyes. "We'll conquer this dungeon, and then we'll figure out what's next. But for now, we fight—together."

Valencia smiled, a fierce, confident smile that made Michael's heart swell with pride and affection. "Together," she echoed, her voice strong and resolute.

With that, Michael turned toward the towering door, the weight of the dungeon no longer as suffocating as before. Valencia stood beside him, her presence a steadying force, a reminder that he was no longer alone in this battle.

As they approached the door, the carvings of the religious figures seemed to shift and change, as if the dungeon itself was reacting to their newfound resolve. The faceless masses seemed to watch them, their silent judgment hanging heavy in the air. But Michael was no longer afraid. He had faced death, pain, and despair, and he had come out the other side stronger, with Valencia by his side.

He reached out and pushed the door open, the massive structure creaking and groaning as it gave way. A dim, foreboding light spilled out from the chamber beyond, revealing the next challenge that awaited them. But Michael didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, Valencia matching his stride, ready to face whatever horrors lay ahead.

Together, they would carve their path through the darkness, defy the odds, and emerge victorious. The dungeon would learn to fear them—Azrael, the Overlord of Death, and Valencia, the newly reborn vampire.

As the door closed behind them with a resounding thud, the dungeon seemed to shudder, as if acknowledging the power of the duo now within its depths. Michael and Valencia shared one last determined look before venturing deeper into the unknown, their fates intertwined, their destinies forged in blood and shadow.

And so, they pressed on, undaunted, ready to face the next trial—together.