I am awakened from my slumber by the grating sound of someone sliding the lid of my stone coffin. The moment my eyes open, an insatiable thirst consumes me. The scent of the intruder's warm, pulsing blood fills my nostrils, driving me into a frenzy. Without hesitation, I pounce upon them, sinking my fangs deep into their flesh, draining them of their life force.

As the lifeless body drops to the cold stone floor, I am momentarily sated, but the thirst still claws at the pit of my being. The blood, once a torrent, now feels like a mere trickle, barely enough to quench my unending hunger.

Through the haze of my desperate need, I become aware of the five other figures surrounding me. They clutch swords, bows, and axes, their faces etched with fear and determination. The death of their companion has left them on guard, ready to defend themselves against this unexpected and horrifying threat.

My limbs feel weak, my body starved for sustenance, but I know I must act quickly. With a speed that belies my frailty, I launch myself at them, my fangs bared and eyes glinting with a ravenous hunger. They try to react, raising their weapons and shouting in alarm, but it's futile.

In a deadly dance, I catch each of them, one by one, my fangs piercing their flesh and draining them of their precious lifeblood. Their struggles grow feeble, and their cries fade into a haunting silence, replaced only by the sound of their life essence coursing through me.

As the last one falls, I stand amidst the carnage, my body trembling with the satisfaction of a thirst temporarily appeased. The taste of fresh blood lingers on my tongue, but I know it won't be long before the hunger resurfaces, demanding more.

I glanced around, my crimson eyes taking in the desolation of the abbey's interior. My stone coffin, now open and standing in the very center of the empty chamber, seemed out of place amidst the absence of any other furniture or living presence.

Confusion gnawed at the edges of my consciousness as I struggled to recall how I had come to be here, in this big, empty abbey. My memories were fragmented, disjointed, and filled with an eerie sense of incompleteness.

I knew one thing for certain—I was a vampire, cursed to walk the night in search of sustenance. My nocturnal hunts had often ended in the crimson ecstasy of stolen blood, the life force that had sustained me through the centuries. But in my relentless pursuit of power, I had grown reckless, and it had cost me dearly.

I remembered the fateful night, when I had become the hunted rather than the hunter. A group of vampire hunters had cornered me, their weapons coated with whitesilver that sapped my strength and left me vulnerable. I had fought fiercely, but ultimately, they had prevailed. My undead existence had come to an abrupt and agonizing end—or so I had thought.

As I stood in the eerie silence of the abbey, a fragment of memory surfaced, like a shadowy wisp in the depths of my mind. I recalled a surreal encounter with beings of immense power. They had brought me before their divine presence, offering me a choice that would change the course of my existence. It was an offer born of desperation and desire—an opportunity to become a dungeon king in another world.

In the ethereal realm where time and space twisted upon themselves, I found myself standing before beings of immense power. They radiated an otherworldly aura, and their presence was suffused with a sense of both ancient wisdom and boundless potential.

One of the gods, a figure shrouded in a luminous mist, spoke in a voice that echoed through the void, "Awaken, child of the night, for your fate takes a new turn this day."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

I stood, my undead heart pounding with a mixture of confusion and trepidation. "Who are you, and where am I?" I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

Another god, a being of pure light, replied, "We are the arbiters of destinies, the weavers of the tapestry of worlds. You have been chosen for a unique opportunity."

My confusion deepened. "Chosen for what?"

The third god, a figure whose form seemed to shift and change like smoke, leaned forward. "You are given the chance to be reborn as a dungeon king in another world."

My crimson eyes widened in disbelief. "A dungeon king? But I am a vampire—"

The first god interrupted, "Your former existence has ended, but a new path awaits you. We have chosen a thousand souls, like yours, to become dungeon kings in a realm in need of new management."

"Why?" I stammered, still struggling to grasp the enormity of what they were offering.

The second god spoke again, their voice resonating with the weight of ages. "The world you will be sent to has fallen into disarray. Its gods have grown complacent and distant from their duties. It is time for a change. A trial will be held among the thousand dungeon kings. The last one standing will be chosen as the world's god."

I blinked, trying to process the magnitude of this revelation. "So, you're saying that I could become a god?"

The third god nodded. "Indeed. But so can any of the other 999 dungeon kings. You will face challenges and adversaries beyond your wildest imagination. Your strength, cunning, and adaptability will be tested. Only the best of the best can succeed."

I contemplated their words, the idea of transcending my earthly nature and ascending to the status of a god. "What do you ask of me in return?"

The first god smiled, a warm and enigmatic expression. "Only your willingness to embrace this opportunity. Will you accept the chance to be reborn as a dungeon king and vie for godhood in the realm that awaits you?"

I hesitated for only a moment before nodding. After all, I died anyway, and who would ever reject an opportunity to become a god? "I accept."

With that, the gods' ethereal forms enveloped me, and the world as I knew it dissolved into a maelstrom of light and shadow. I was on the precipice of a new existence, a journey into the unknown, where the fate of an entire world would soon rest in my hands.

As I stood amidst the lifeless bodies scattered on the cold stone floor of the abbey, a realization slowly dawned upon me—the stone coffin that had once held me was not just a resting place but my dungeon core. My memories were fragmented, my recollection of the gods' ethereal realm conversation hazy at best, but one thing was clear: I had been reborn as a dungeon king.

With newfound purpose, I reached out with my newfound power, tapping into the magic that had been bestowed upon me. The sensation was unlike anything I had ever experienced as a vampire. It was as if the very essence of the dungeon itself flowed through me, a pulsing, living entity. I could sense the life force within my dungeon core, its connection to the world I had been transported to.

Focusing my newfound abilities, I channeled my magic to inspect the condition of my dungeon. The knowledge surged through my mind, and I saw it all—a huge abbey with a gothic architecture, the floors beneath it, the intricate design with many rooms, all empty. This was my dungeon.

I marveled at my dungeon and its dark beauty. It was a testament to the power I now wielded as a dungeon king. I could see the potential, the raw potential for growth and transformation that lay before me.

With a thought, I extended my magical senses further, exploring the various skills and abilities at my disposal. The knowledge flowed through me, revealing the unique powers I had been granted as a dungeon king.

One of these abilities was Loyalty—an ancient and potent skill. It allowed me to forge unbreakable bonds with those who served me. By offering my own blood, I could ensure unwavering loyalty. If the recipient was already deceased, my blood would transform them into ghouls—mindless monstrosities that hungered for flesh. However, if the recipient was alive, the effects were far more intriguing.

When living beings received my blood, they underwent a transformation into low-blood vampires. These new underlings possessed consciousness and purpose. They were not the mindless predators of typical vampires but retained their individuality and could follow orders with deliberation. Their strength grew with each drop of blood they consumed, granting them the ability to become more powerful over time.

As I delved deeper into my newfound knowledge, I understood that this world was not just a land of monsters and dungeons but a realm in dire need of balance. The gods had entrusted me with the task of restoring order.

Or they put me here to die fighting with other dungeon kings.

Either way, I am given a chance to become a god.

My heart, once burdened with the curse of vampirism, now thrummed with a different kind of hunger—a hunger for power, for mastery over my domain, and for the chance to rise to godhood. The abbey, a place of rest, had become the epicenter of my rebirth as a dungeon king, and I was determined to carve a path to godhood through the shadows and secrets of this realm.