Marticio Azul had not been human for long.
The moment his Gift awakened, the transformation had been immediate and irreversible. One heartbeat he was a man standing in the ruins of a collapsing city. The next, his heart had stopped, only to be replaced by something colder, denser, and far more powerful.
A vampire.
Not the feral kind found in myths. Not a cursed beast hiding in shadows and feeding in secret. Marticio Azul had awakened as a Vampire Noble, a higher existence with instinctive mastery over blood, mana, and authority.
The system itself had acknowledged it.
His body no longer aged. His strength eclipsed anything he possessed as a human. His speed allowed him to cross city blocks in seconds. His mana pool dwarfed most rankers, flowing through his veins alongside blood that shimmered faintly when exposed to magic.
And with his Gift came dominion.
He could sire others.
Those he turned were bound to him by blood and mana alike. Their loyalty was not absolute, but rebellion was nearly impossible. Each vampire spawn strengthened him in turn, forming a hierarchy that mirrored nobility of old.
There was only one weakness.
Sunlight.
It burned.
Not enough to kill him outright, but enough to cripple his abilities and reduce him to a shadow of his true power. Marticio had adapted. His forces moved primarily at night. During the day, they occupied fortified structures, underground routes, or cloud covered territories warped by rifts.
Despite the limitation, Marticio Azul rose quickly.
Rank 12.
A position earned not through reckless aggression, but calculated expansion. He targeted regions abandoned by stronger factions, converting survivors who chose eternity over extinction. His vampire army grew steadily, disciplined and terrifyingly effective against monsters.
Eventually, his influence reached the borders of another power.
The Merchant Lord.
Jeremiah Smith.
Rank 3.
Jeremiah's Gift, the legendary 100% Drop Rate, made him invaluable to anyone who could protect trade routes and supply lines. Marticio offered exactly that. In exchange for equipment, enchanted items, and information, his vampires secured dangerous zones and eliminated high value threats.
It was a practical alliance.
Not a friendship.
Marticio knew better than to trust someone whose power turned war into profit.
It was during one such expansion, while scouting new territory beyond previously charted regions, that the problem arose.
The land ahead was quiet.
Too quiet.
No rifts pulsed in the air. No roaming monsters. The roads were clear, the ruins oddly intact. Even the mana density felt regulated, controlled.
One of his scouts returned, kneeling respectfully before him.
"Lord Marticio," the spawn said. "We encountered patrols."
"Human?" Marticio asked.
"Yes. Armed. Disciplined. Not scavengers."
Marticio frowned slightly. Human organized patrols were rare outside the domains of top rankers.
"Who commands them?"
The scout hesitated.
"They spoke a name."
Marticio felt a faint tightening in his chest.
"What name."
"Aldwin Everett."
Silence followed.
Marticio dismissed the scout with a wave and rose from his seat. He stepped toward a window overlooking the city he controlled, watching as vampire sentries moved across rooftops in the twilight.
Rank 4.
The Demon King of the Tides.
Even Marticio, who rarely involved himself in group chat speculation, knew that name.
Aldwin Everett was not just another high ranked individual. His rise had been brutal and unmistakable. Entire regions had fallen under his control. Demons marched beneath his banner. Dark elves allied with him. Even monster races had bent the knee.
Rumors spoke of embodiment powers, ancient past lives, and demons that treated him as their sovereign.
This was not territory one trespassed lightly.
Marticio considered his options.
Retreat was possible, but it would complicate trade routes and weaken his position relative to Jeremiah. Forcing entry was unthinkable. Even if he could fight Aldwin, victory was uncertain at best and catastrophic at worst.
There was a third option.
Diplomacy.
Marticio turned away from the window and summoned his scribes. Messages were composed carefully, stripped of arrogance and threat. He chose his words with the precision of a noble who understood power dynamics.
The message was sent directly through the system.
To Aldwin Everett, Rank 4
I mean no harm.
My forces have approached territory under your control unknowingly. I merely seek safe passage for a limited duration. If there is something I can trade for this courtesy, then so be it.
Respectfully,
Marticio Azul
Rank 12
The message left him feeling strangely exposed.
Marticio was not accustomed to asking permission.
Yet he waited.
The response came hours later.
Short.
Direct.
Safe passage can be discussed.
I will meet you personally before any agreement is finalized.
Aldwin Everett
Marticio stared at the message for several seconds.
A personal meeting.
He had expected negotiations through envoys. Perhaps through intermediaries. Instead, Aldwin demanded face to face contact.
After a moment, Marticio smiled.
"So be it," he murmured.
Preparations began immediately.
An envoy was dispatched ahead, a vampire noble of lesser rank carrying formal insignia rather than weapons. They traveled openly, making no attempt to hide their nature. Transparency was the safest path when dealing with a power like Aldwin.
When the envoy returned days later, Marticio was informed that Aldwin had accepted the approach and would receive him within his territory.
The journey was tense.
As Marticio traveled, he observed Aldwin's domain firsthand.
Human settlements fortified and orderly. Demon patrols marching alongside human guards. Dark elf sentinels positioned in elevated positions, their eyes sharp and watchful.
This was not chaos.
This was governance.
When Marticio finally arrived at the meeting site, he felt it immediately.
Pressure.
The air itself seemed heavier.
Aldwin stood at the center of a cleared plaza, clad in dark armor. A staff rested at his side, humming faintly with oceanic mana. Behind him loomed demons of terrifying presence. A massive salamander radiated heat. A crow like demon observed silently from above. Others stood still, disciplined and lethal.
Aldwin's blue eyes met Marticio's crimson gaze.
Neither spoke at first.
Marticio inclined his head slightly.
"Aldwin Everett," he said calmly. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."
Aldwin studied him for several seconds.
"You are Marticio Azul," Aldwin replied. "Rank 12. Vampire Noble."
"Yes."
"You seek safe passage."
"I do," Marticio answered honestly. "Nothing more. I have no intention of contesting your territory or undermining your rule."
Aldwin's gaze sharpened.
"And what do you offer in return."
Marticio spread his hands.
"Information. Trade. And neutrality. My alliance with Rank 3 will not be used against you. I value stability over conquest."
Silence fell.
Mulligan stirred faintly within Aldwin. Verakul watched through his eyes.
After a moment, Aldwin spoke.
"Safe passage is possible," he said. "Limited routes. No turning of my people. No expansion within my borders."
Marticio nodded immediately.
"Agreed."
Aldwin stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.
"And understand this," Aldwin continued calmly. "If your kind becomes a problem, I will not negotiate again."
Marticio met his gaze and smiled thinly.
"I would expect nothing less from Rank 4."
The first step toward an uneasy understanding had been taken.
And the world continued to shift.