The Vampire Count Returned to the Apocalypse Game

Gabriel climbed the stairs with calm, measured steps. Each footfall echoed through the ancient stone, producing a dry, hollow sound.

He was in no rush. After facing the cyclops, his body had begun to adapt to the deadly rhythm of this place.

Leviathan Gluttony still pulsed faintly within him, hungry for more.

At the top of the staircase stood an open archway, devoid of doors or barriers—an ominous invitation leading deeper into the dungeon.

Gabriel crossed the threshold and entered a grand hall that resembled a decayed medieval banquet room. Long dark wooden tables groaned under the weight of greasy meats, stale black bread, and pitchers of watered-down wine.

A dozen brutish, bloodthirsty men lounged around the tables, devouring their food with savage greed. Their loud, wet chewing filled the air, and their filthy beards were slick with grease and food scraps as they laughed and bellowed in hoarse voices.

The moment Gabriel’s footsteps echoed through the hall, all conversation died.

Every head turned toward him.

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

The leader—a massive man with a jagged scar across his face and a crude iron crown—spoke first.

"Boy... you lost?"

One of his men, sporting a reddish beard and cruel eyes, grinned viciously.

"My king, this one would fetch a fine price as a slave. Look at him—prime merchandise."

Several others laughed.

Gabriel ignored their taunts. His pace never faltered as he walked straight toward the center of the hall.

An arrow suddenly slammed into the stone floor right in front of his feet, sending sparks flying.

The leader’s voice grew colder. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Careful, lad. Cross that line and you die for nothing."

He crouched slowly to examine the embedded arrow. His calm action triggered a roar of mocking laughter from the bandits. They thought he was afraid.

They were wrong.

In one fluid, brutal motion, Gabriel drew both daggers.

The nearest man didn’t even have time to react. The right dagger sliced cleanly across his throat, sending a fountain of hot blood spraying across the table.

At the same moment, Gabriel grabbed the second man by the back of the neck and smashed his face into the wooden table with terrifying force. The sickening crack of his neck breaking cut through the sudden screams.

Chaos erupted.

The bandits surged to their feet, roaring with fury. Gabriel spun, dodging an arrow that whistled past his head. While fighting the warriors in front, he kept track of the hidden archer’s angle.

The shots were always coming from the same spot—a concealed opening in the upper right wall.

He used the largest bandit as a human shield, shoving the man into the incoming arrows. Then, with explosive speed, he leaped onto a table, used the king’s throne as a springboard, and launched himself toward the hidden compartment.

An arrow struck his dagger mid-air, nearly knocking it from his grip, but he broke through the wooden panel.

Seconds later, a bloodied corpse tumbled out of the hole and crashed onto the floor below, bow still clutched in its dead hands.

The remaining bandits froze.

"Wait!" the leader shouted.

Too late.

Gabriel had already dropped silently from the ceiling behind them. He drove a stolen longsword straight through the leader’s back, piercing his heart with a single brutal thrust.

The man let out a wet gurgle and collapsed to his knees.

What followed was a controlled bloodbath.

Gabriel’s daggers moved like deadly extensions of his will. He slit throats, stabbed between ribs, and danced through desperate counterattacks with lethal precision. One by one, the bandits fell.

Tables overturned. Food was trampled. The entire hall turned crimson.

When the last body hit the floor, Gabriel stood motionless at the center of the carnage, breathing heavily. His dark coat was soaked in blood, but the Jester’s Mask remained eerily clean.

He quickly searched the hidden compartments and looted several chests—silver coins, small gems, and a few useful items. He stored everything in his inventory, even stuffing his pockets until they bulged.

It was a decent haul.

But he knew the next challenge wouldn’t let him carry so much weight.

A heavy door at the far end of the hall creaked open, revealing a long descending corridor.

A new system notification appeared:

_______________

[Labyrinth of Dead Waters]

[Time Limit: 18 minutes]

[Warning: Failure to escape in time will result in drowning.]

________________

Gabriel curled his lip in disdain.

"Let’s see if vampires can drown..."

He stored the excess coins and advanced into the corridor. Dark water was already beginning to seep in, soaking his boots.

***

The water reached his ankles as he entered the first section of the labyrinth. Ancient stone walls covered in black moss loomed around him, and weak torches flickered on the verge of extinction.

He memorized every turn, every mark on the walls, every subtle slope of the floor.

The water rose steadily.

Sixteen minutes remaining.

He broke into a run.

His mind worked at full capacity—calculating paths, eliminating dead ends, searching for patterns. At a three-way intersection, he closed his eyes for a split second, felt the water’s flow, and chose the left passage.

The water reached his knees. Fifteen minutes.

He narrowly avoided a collapsing floor trap, grabbing onto a crack in the wall just in time.

Thirteen minutes.

In a wider chamber, he encountered three levers with ancient symbols. The water was rising faster here. Gabriel solved the puzzle in under thirty seconds and pushed forward as a new door opened.

Twelve minutes.

Fatigue was setting in. The cold water sapped his strength, but his will remained sharp.

Ten minutes.

The water reached his chest. He began swimming through some sections, keeping his head above the dark liquid.

Eight minutes.

A wrong turn led him to a dead end. He cursed and doubled back, losing precious seconds.

Four minutes.

Finally, he saw light at the end of a long corridor. The water was up to his neck.

He swam desperately, cutting through the cold darkness with powerful strokes. His fingers brushed the exit just as the timer ticked down to its final minutes.

He collapsed into the next room, coughing violently as the water drained rapidly through floor grates.

He sat for a moment, catching his breath.

He had survived the labyrinth.

But Gabriel knew this was only the beginning.

A new staircase awaited ahead, leading deeper into the dungeon. The true challenge had only just begun.

He stood up, adjusted his gear, and continued forward.

Each trial made him stronger.

Each death fed the hunger growing inside him.