There were now over twenty of these academy students gathered before me. At first, I was confused by their numbers since only five people were supposed to be able to enter this dimensional space at once. Then I realized that the limit of five only applied to an active fracture. With the death of the goblin chieftain, this dungeon had shifted into a cleared state and could now accommodate many more people.

According to the Alpha Administrator, this place would now continue to exist for another twenty-four hours before vanishing, during which a cleanup team would mine it for every available resource they could take. There was a thriving industry that had developed in this world based around acquiring rare materials from fractures and the monsters that dwelled within them. I personally found it remarkable that human mercantilism had found a way to turn a profit from surviving a potential apocalyptic event.

“Evans,” one of the students said as he approached me. He was a tall cleanshaven youth with coffee colored skin, wearing a silver breastplate over a set of gray fatigues. On his back he carried a sheathed broad sword and at his side he had a holstered pistol. All in all, he gave the impression of being a very dangerous fellow who moved with the learned grace of a killer at ease.

His poise impressed me. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen but his experiences as a hunter had clearly shaped him well. The other children carried themselves with an intensity that matched his. So, these were the sort of people this world produced. Not a single lamb among them, but butchers aplenty.

I immediately disabled my class, so that I couldn’t be perceived as anything other than a porter. As far as I knew, I was the only Vampire Lord on the planet. If they decided that made me a threat, they might impulsively decide to dispose of me before I could offer any sort of explanation. It would be best to avoid any potential misunderstandings. At least until I was strong enough not to care what others thought of me.

“Tell me what happened here,” he said brusquely. “You’re missing three men. Where are Collins, Shaffin, and Harper?”

Although those names meant nothing to me, I quickly discerned that they were the names of the devoured members of the hunting team. I waived a hand around the room, gesturing to the gore all around us. “They’re like, everywhere, man,” I said with a slightly high-strung giggle. “But like mostly inside him,” I concluded while pointing at the dead goblin chieftain.

I had no idea what Kyler Evans had been like as a person, but I suspect he wasn’t very well regarded by his peers. An examination of their healthy physiques, new and expensive equipment, and general cleanliness suggested a very distinct class difference between me and them. Although we were in the same age bracket, my body was smaller, scrawnier and my hair was thinner and unkempt. That happened when nutrition was poor.

Had Kyler Evans been a scholarship student? I wish I had a mirror so I could examine my teeth and eyes. Any yellowing would explain a lot. I also smelled strongly of tobacco and other substances. Unhealthy habits like that disproportionately affected those of lesser means. People with money tended to take better care of themselves.

Based on the information I had, I decided to improvise my speech and mannerisms. To perform as a flighty idiot. I doubt anyone would call me out if I got anything wrong. These children of privilege were unlikely to have paid any significant attention to Evans when he was alive. Besides, teenagers reinvented themselves all the time. They were always trying out new ways of speaking and thinking. It takes a while to decide who you want to be for the rest of your life, after all.

“Shit,” the teen swore. “I know they were only E-rankers, but Jesus Christ. All three of them? That’s just pathetic.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s like…I don’t even know, brother. It was bad. Like mice throwing themselves at a housecat, yeah?”

“Is that right?” he asked me with a sneer. “Well, I’m sure you were a big help during the fight, burnout. That tunic you’re wearing is system generated loot. How’d you come across that?”

“Got it when I poked the big guy,” I admitted.

The other boy was stunned. “Wait, you seriously helped fight a dungeon lord? What the hell were you thinking? You’re a fucking porter.”

“Brooo, c’mon, I know my role,” I replied. “But I didn’t have much of a choice, right? Hey, it was all hands aboard! He was smashing us! If I didn’t step up, me and what’s her face would have been beans on toast!”

“Beans on what? Stop rambling, you idiot,” he said while shaking his head in disgust. “Jesus, a fucking porter had to make the clear? I am going to eat so much shit over this.”

“Hey, I was pretty good, man! You should have seen me!” To emphasize my point, I waved my spear around enthusiastically then jumped back in fright when I accidentally dropped it, to avoid accidentally stabbing my own foot.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he snorted as he leaned down to pick the spear up. He gave it a quick examination before clucking his tongue and tossing it back to me. “That thing’s a piece of garbage, Evans. It suits you.”

“What? Nooo, don’t say it like that. It’s good luck, bro! It saved my life, I swear!” I protested. “Oh, hey, quick question, though.”

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“What is it?” he said with a raised brow.

“Uh, bro, what’s your name?” I asked him.

The boy stared at me silently for a full count of three before his face turned wrathful.

“Evans, you mother fu…did you come into this dungeon high?” he asked me sternly.

“What? No!” I said immediately.

“I’m serious, kid, you better fucking not have,” he said as he leaned into my face. “We’re down three bodies on this trip, four if you count whatever happened to Anikka. If you came in here blazed and that in anyway contributed to this fuckup, I’ll see to it that you’re booted or worse. Test me, bitch.”

“Not testing you, not testing you,” I said quickly as I avoided making eye contact with him.

“Yeah, right,” he said. But I could hear a subtle excitement in his voice as he spoke. He was happy that he’d questioned me because I’d just provided him with a way to escape any repercussions for the disaster that occurred under his watch.

If this Vandal academy that we apparently attended was anything like a military school, then this boy was the officer in charge of this group. As such, he’d be the one held responsible for the failure of my team to safely clear this low-ranking dungeon without casualties.

A failure like this wouldn’t look good for whatever career prospects awaited him down the line. Like any young person who’d gotten this far through determination and grit, he had ambition. And ambition made people ruthless when their future was threatened.

What he needed was a patsy. Someone he could pin this catastrophe on so he could avoid any personal consequences. So, that’s what I gave him. I presented myself as a fool, an impression he seemed to have already had of me and made it clear that I was unsuitable for my role.

Hopefully that would lead to my expulsion from this academy. I had no intention of spending my first few years in this world in a school setting. I respect those who seek improvement through education, but I was more of a hands-on learner. I was the sort who preferred gaining knowledge through experience. The idea of wandering this new land was too delicious to resist.

There was also the fact that I just don’t get along well with children. This is an embarrassing admission, but as the young ones say, I just don’t vibe with them. Generational divides are difficult enough to navigate when you’re an ordinary human being. A mere twenty-year difference in age was enough to separate two souls by a lifetime of experience. Imagine how massive those differences would be when the age gap is over nine hundred years.

Kids in general bother me. It’s not truly their fault. It’s all to do with my personality and my unhappy family history. You see, in addition to being a terrible husband, I’m also a neglectful waste of a father. I don’t speak merely of the thousands of humans I’ve transformed into my lesser kin. Over the centuries I’ve also fathered over a dozen offspring. The curse of undeath doesn’t prevent vampires from being able to reproduce traditionally. It’s something many of us avoid, however, because so-called purebloods have even less humanity in them than their parents. They’re supremely selfish, ambitious, and without loyalty. I would know; most of my children ended up rebelling against me.

Mortal fathers have it easy. They only had to deal with their progeny getting tattoos or picking a profession or a partner they disapproved of. When my kids went astray, they came for my throne.

In the best-case scenarios, I’ve had to cut them out of my life and send them away to live in banishment. With the worst? I’ve had to destroy them with my own hands. Have you ever killed your son or daughter before they could plunge a silver dagger into your heart or behead you with a sword? I’ve done it three times.

My wives have never forgiven me. Vampire drama is the worst kind of drama.

It’s a very depressing cycle. When they were small, my children loved me unconditionally. They treated every observation I made as though it were beyond profound. They laughed and played and wanted to be just like me. They made me feel happy.

But something always happens that shatters their image of me and leads them to find constant disappointment in who I am as a person. Eventually, cracks would begin to form in our relationship that quickly became unmendable and always led to betrayal or the final death.

After the eventual blowup, I would always vow never to have another child. I also always broke that promise given enough time. It was like I was tormenting myself. Was I wrong to want to leave someone behind who I felt was…worthy of me? That isn’t just me being an egotist, is it?

Yeah, it probably is.

I suppose my recent death meant that my last daughter by birth, Veronique, would now inherit my old title as the Lord of Blood. I pitied anyone who crossed her. The girl was an utter sadist. The first thing she’d probably do was to hunt down her siblings and force them to swear their fealty to her. Then she’d imprison her mother and stepmothers to insure there’d be no interference with her decision-making. It’d serve my dear brides right, since they’d spent centuries poisoning her against me.

Wait, hadn’t Sophia said that no one was left to inherit my title? Did that mean that my children were already dead? I had difficulty believing that. You could more easily dispatch a bull with a flyswatter than you could permanently slay those rotten brats I’d sired. It might have been fun to watch some fools attempting, though. It'd certainly be a show.

Was that a touch of pride I now felt?

Nah, it couldn’t be.

“Evans, what the hell are you staring at?” asked the boy again. “Stay in the moment, you powder freak.”

Goodness, I really did hate the way this fellow spoke to me. Just because I was playing the part of a loser didn’t give him the right to behave so disrespectfully. What good was a warrior without courtesy? He was in dire need of refinement.

Well, maybe we could settle that later.

The boy, who I later learned was named Andre Culver, announced that we were pulling out. The remains of the deceased hunters were cut out of the goblin chieftain’s body to be returned to their families. As their porter, I was given the honor of storing the assorted bits that remained of them. Hurray.

I also learned that the reason so many hunters came running into the dungeon after I cleared it, was due to the girl the goblin had tormented. My teammate, I suppose. Her name was Anikka Velas. Very wealthy, very popular, and a daughter of a famous household. Although I had nothing to do with what happened to her and may very well have been a victim of murderous mistreatment at her hands, her problems would soon become my problems.

Nobles don’t like it when their children suffer. Even if was due to their own incompetence, honor and reputation must be preserved. If there was someone else who could possibly be blamed for when things went wrong, then blamed they would be.

As it turned out, my performance as a clueless dolt had been a little too effective.