The Snare

After speaking these words, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curled upward, revealing a smile that could be deemed somewhat smug. If such an expression had appeared on a well-dressed, accomplished youth under thirty, it might have seemed quite handsome. However, on a mere six-year-old child, it appeared decidedly out of place.

Of course, there were no mirrors here. Apart from Valerd, there was no one else to offer commentary or critique.

This, in fact, was one of the reasons Valerd had an affinity for the undead soldiers. Due to his status, he was always careful in his interactions with other family members, making a deliberate effort to appear as normal as possible. Fortunately, he had a sister who was just a little older than him. So, whenever he encountered something he didn't understand, he would simply try to imitate her.

Although their genders were different, at this age, the onset of puberty had yet to begin. Aside from slight differences in hairstyle and clothing, children at this age generally bore little distinction.

However, Valerd had clearly overlooked one critical detail: he was six years younger than his sister. Initially, this hadn't posed any issue, but six years later, Isabella was already twelve. Vampires, during the ages of one to twenty, develop much like humans. Add to that Isabella's precociousness... Could continuing to imitate her really work?

"Mm-hmm, I really am too clever. This is nothing I can't handle." Perhaps it was the jolt he received when his soul passed through the wormhole. Compared to his past life, where he was only slightly clever and mediocre in military school, this version of Valerd seemed significantly more intelligent and far more calculating. With such a disposition, and combined with his combat prowess from the future world and the beneficent magic of his constitution, achieving success in this world would not be a particularly difficult task.

As these thoughts passed through his mind, Valerd's steps grew lighter, his pace quickening. However—just as he took another step forward, his foot landed on a loose tile. Upon stepping fully onto it, the tile suddenly flipped, revealing a ten-meter-deep pit filled with sharp iron spikes, interspersed with grim white bones. The four walls, smooth as polished stone, offered no footholds, not even for a fly.

But that wasn't all—more importantly, as Valerd's foot sank slightly into the trap, he felt his connection to the magic wind sever, as though the magic within him had frozen. The trap seemed to have something that could completely block the use of magic!

"Incredible!" Valerd's heart skipped a beat. No sooner had he thought this than his body tilted backward. He performed a backflip, using his hands to brace against the stone behind him, preparing to leap once more. But he felt his balance shift again—his hands pressed against the stone, only for it to flip downward as well!

"Well-played!" He hadn't anticipated that the mechanism was a double trap—one flip triggered the next, making it nearly impossible to defend against! However, Valerd had faced countless perilous situations in his past life, and in this one, his enhanced vampire physique gave him an edge. Though he was still just a six-year-old, he could now perform actions that demanded significant physical strength.

Valerd shouted, concentrating all his energy into his left hand, and before the tile could fall fully, he gripped the smooth, seemingly immovable stone wall. With his arm slightly bent, he then straightened it with all his might. Most of his strength was focused on holding onto the wall, with only the smallest amount propelling him into the air.

In mid-air, Valerd hastily cast six magic gestures, summoning a floating spell that kept him suspended in the air, securing his safety for the moment.

Valerd had narrowly avoided disaster, but his ancient tomb guards and skeletal wolves, who had followed him, were not so fortunate, their bones now scattered below. These guards, once formidable, had been further empowered by necromantic magic, making them virtually invincible. Yet, in an instant, their magical support shattered, reducing these mighty warriors to nothing more than ordinary skeletal remains, their weapons falling along with them. They had perished in the blink of an eye.

Valerd floated in mid-air, vigilant for a while before finally relaxing. But as he reflected on the events, he couldn't shake the dread—the trap seemed almost sentient, working only when Valerd stepped onto it. His plan to use the undead guards as cannon fodder had turned to naught.

Sixteen powerful undead were now gone, leaving the corridor eerily empty. Valerd hesitated, calculating the situation. Entering the tomb had already exposed him to two sets of traps. How many more dangers lay ahead? This might prove even more challenging than breaking through the outer barrier.

With all his expendable undead guardians gone, Valerd felt the weight of the situation. Treasure was one thing, but survival was another matter entirely...

"However, if I just turn back now, I'd truly feel unsatisfied."

Valerd thought for a moment, muttering to himself, "Besides, how do I explain losing those skeletons when I return? Bribing that cat will cost money too. And Isabella... She's borrowed quite a bit from me and hasn't repaid a single penny..." At this thought, Valerd found himself in quite a bind.

"I really don't know how to face the family when I get back..." With a flick of his wrist, he tossed two fireballs, which exploded with a resounding bang, smashing the defenseless flip trap. Below, the scattered remains of the ancient tomb guards could not be reassembled. Valerd considered pulling them up, but any magic cast in the small pit was nullified. Even with arcane vision, nothing could be discerned. He had no choice but to give up.

"Such a bother... Fine." After a moment of contemplation, Valerd decided to press on. However, without his undead guardians, and having suffered a small setback, he proceeded with far more caution.

As Valerd delved deeper into the tomb, his demeanor grew more serious. With each step, he tossed a knife to test the floor tiles for looseness or hidden traps, all while maintaining his magical vision to scan for any concealed hazards.

Yet, despite his meticulous precautions, they proved fruitless. After advancing about twenty meters, he encountered no further traps. This struck him as odd, causing him to proceed with even greater vigilance.

Judging by the scale of this tomb's construction, it seemed likely that its owner had been a member of the ancient imperial aristocracy, or perhaps even an emperor. If that were the case, the previous traps seemed rather insufficient. Though dangerous, they seemed more designed to deter lone grave robbers than to challenge a powerful force.

"What else might pop up next?" Valerd mused with a wry smile, continuing forward carefully. He would have preferred to maintain his floating position, but the magic wind within this tomb was incredibly thin, making it difficult to draw on external magical energy.

Of course, it was possible that the earlier display of power, when he shattered the outer tomb barrier, had drained the tomb's magic reserves. Perhaps that was why the magical wind had yet to recover.

Regardless of the cause, Valerd found himself in a perilous situation. His magic reserves were nearly depleted, and every spell now had to be used sparingly. Even maintaining the simplest floating spell was a challenge.

Moreover, though Valerd was physically capable, he could only consider himself "adequate." He could handle a dozen or so enemies, perhaps even a few more, but facing skilled elites or a sufficiently large professional force would spell his doom.

"So, in reality, my situation is quite dangerous," he muttered, trying to quell his growing fear, "Just a slight misstep, and this little life of mine could be over. This is..." As he continued down the long corridor, he came upon a vast, empty hall—vast and brightly illuminated by a magical light source shining from above. The entire hall was bathed in a radiance as intense as a cloudless summer day.

Having become a vampire, Valerd found himself rather unaccustomed to such strong light. Particularly after having relied on magical vision earlier. And most crucially—Valerd was certain that the hall had been pitch dark before he entered. The transformation occurred the moment he stepped into it, with the area lighting up as though in response to his arrival.

"Danger! Stay alert!" Valerd immediately reacted, swiftly making a series of gestures, using the little magic he had left to surround himself with a protective spell. His left hand moved to his waist, where he pulled out three silver daggers. His right hand moved in intricate motions, preparing another magical incantation. He bent his body, his arms stretched out, assuming a half-crouched, poised position, ready to strike at any moment.