Chapter 30: Hello, Grave Owner—I'm Your Grave-Digger

In the lightless gloom, an eerie light tapping sound came from within the coffin.

(Click-clack.)

As if someone were tapping softly, or as if someone were weakly scratching with nails already worn smooth.

Inside the coffin, there was someone.

A living person, no less!

At this moment, under the influence of the surrounding atmosphere, Herbert could not help but raise an eyebrow and draw in a sharp breath.

"Hiss!"

He swallowed, his lips trembling as he whispered: "Th-there's a zongzi."

Oh no.

Tomb-raiding and running into a zongzi!

Herbert wished he could just turn tail and run... but of course, that wasn't going to happen.

Of course there was a living thing inside the coffin—well, calling it a dead thing probably works too?

Who even knows how vampires are supposed to be classified?

At this point, how could Herbert fail to guess that the coffin before him belonged to the second prisoner held in the Lightless Prison?

Clearly, the great mage Vani, who was secretly controlling the paths of the Lightless Prison, did not wish to see him.

A compromise.

But not a full surrender—only a tiny bit of compromise.

Vani herself didn't want to meet anyone, so she pushed her other roommate out to serve as a shield.

【Blood-Fallen】, 【Kin-Slayer】, 【Bloodfeud Prince】—Eliza Fater

A vicious outsider who, without any notable battle records or history in the human world, was locked up solely on the strength of the title "Vampire Prince."

Herbert gazed at the gothic black-iron coffin, a touch of feeling stirring in his heart: "A Vampire Prince... just hearing the name really gives off that Fantasy World vibe."

Like, say, *I Was Forced Out of the Party and Awakened a Bloodline Princess Who Slept for Three Hundred Years in the Dungeon*, or *There's No Way a Guy Loved by a Vampire Prince Can Be a Hero*...

Never mind whether the contents make any sense—the point is, if the title's long enough, someone will want to read it—I wanna see what kind of nonsense they crammed into such a long title!

(Click-clack.)

"Well, probably won't be as ridiculous an opening as in those novels. Wonder what her personality's like—easy to trick... I mean, easy to talk to?"

(Click-clack!)

"What if she's another shut-in like Vani? Then won't it be really hard for me to clear this area?"

(Click... clack...)

Herbert thought for a while, then suddenly thought of something, turned to look at the motionless coffin, and tilted his head in confusion.

"Huh? That's slow."

"I've been waiting for her forever—why hasn't she come out yet? Surely she's not shy?"

After watching in silence for a while, when the coffin finally fell completely silent, Herbert at last confirmed something very important.

This vampire didn't seem to be unwilling to come out—she really couldn't come out.

Was she too weak?

Knock, knock.

Herbert knocked on the coffin again and asked tentatively: "Um, do you need some help?"

What answered him was a volley of knocking.

(Click-clack-clack-clack...)

From the frequency of the knocks, one could tell the person inside was truly desperate.

Though the vampire hadn't spoken, Herbert had already hallucinated a stream of pleas—Help me! Help me! Help me!

"Well then."

From the looks of things now, their first meeting probably wouldn't be as legendary as the ones in fantasy stories.

But from another angle, it was plenty legendary in its own way.

Have you ever seen a story where the male lead helps the female lead dig up her own grave?

Miss, hello, I'm your grave-digger!

Herbert did indeed intend to help, but a new problem promptly arose.

"Speaking of which, how am I supposed to help you?"

He looked at the black-iron coffin, over three meters long and at least two meters wide, then looked at his own scrawny little arms and legs, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Push? Pull? Or pry it open?"

Buddy, is your coffin a slider, or a flip-top?

Herbert strained to push for quite a while before he finally got the coffin lid to budge slightly, revealing an extremely narrow gap.

The gap was truly tiny—only a few millimeters wide—barely enough to slip a sword blade into.

Herbert hesitated, but in the end did not use his personal sword as a crowbar.

That would still be a bit too extravagant.

Better go find myself a real physics holy sword...

And just as Herbert was preparing to leave and update his equipment, the long-silent vampire finally spoke:

"... Blood."

"Give me... blood."

An extremely weak voice drifted out from the crack in the coffin, and just hearing it sent goosebumps all over Herbert's skin.

"Help me... give me blood..."

An ancient existence within the coffin softly called out toward the outside, trying to get someone beyond to give her a little help.

"Help me!"

"Drip blood onto it!"

"Save me!"

"I will definitely repay you…"

The woman's voice gave no clue to her age; all that lingered in the ears was a hoarse, rasping sound, like two sheets of sandpaper rubbing endlessly together, making one's hair stand on end.

But at the same time, that voice seemed to carry a strange, bewitching power, making Herbert uncontrollably want to do as she said.

【Draw your sword!】

【Drip blood into the coffin!】

The vampire had not said so outright, yet these three voices kept echoing at the bottom of Herbert's heart, beguiling him.

"…"

Gradually, every trace of expression vanished from Herbert's face; his eyes were blank and lifeless.

He raised his hand, gripped the sword's hilt, and slowly drew it from its sheath.

Shhh—

The vampire seemed to have heard the sounds from outside, knew the most critical moment had arrived, and increased the force of her summoning.

"Come!"

"Come over and help me!"

"Good child, come over… ah!?"

The one within the coffin let out a startled cry of disbelief.

Because the mortal had indeed walked up to the coffin with sword in hand as she had imagined, but had not followed her instructions to slit his wrist.

Instead… he drove a sword straight into the crack of the coffin!

Clang—

The sharp blade, without the slightest deviation, stabbed straight into her chest!

"Cough!?"

Taken by surprise, the little blood she had left was coughed up from her mouth, and Elisha hurriedly sucked it back in mid-air before it could scatter.

My blood!

The already weakened vampire grew even more listless, her mind full of question marks.

No—how on earth did he manage that?

The vampire still couldn't help herself and hurriedly asked, "Wh-what are you doing?"

At this, Herbert curled his lip and replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "Don't you need blood? Isn't this me helping you?"

Damn it!

I want your blood!

Not for you to help me like this!?

Even at this moment, Elisha had not doubted her own hypnosis ability; she only felt that this mortal's brain circuitry was a bit abnormal.

But Herbert had no intention of continuing the act.

Playing along a little is fine, but overdoing it gets boring.

He spoke up directly: "Miss vampire, do you know? We could have had a perfectly nice conversation, but you just had to go and provoke me."

The second most annoying thing for Herbert right now is "someone trying to mentally control him," ranking just below "being squashed flat."

If this can be endured, what cannot?

As Elisha hesitated, Herbert said indifferently, "Oh right, didn't you want my blood?"

"Fine."

"I'll give it to you."

Herbert grabbed hold of the blade wedged in the crack!

Hiss—

(End of chapter)