This world is known as Him-Ambar, a name derived from the ancient Elvish tongue, meaning "the cool world." It is a realm adorned with numerous continents, the grandest of which is called the Central Continent. Stretching from west to east, the Central Continent is divided into three vast regions: Rosenland, Esta, and Tsincho. To the east lies Tsincho, a land steeped in the mystique of the Orient, birthplace of ninjas, swordmasters, and the art of papermaking. At the heart of the continent, Esta unfurls as a desert expanse, teeming with camels, sands, and oases—a cradle of fantastical beings like djinn and the very origin of human civilization. To the southwest of the Central Continent lies another, smaller landmass called Inka. Its northwest borders the northeast of Esta, while its northeast touches the southwest of Tsincho. Inka is the realm of ascetic warrior monks who practice the art of yoga.
Rosenland, situated in the western reaches of the Central Continent, is a land of knights, castles, and the timeless dance of sword and sorcery. Among its mightiest realms stands the knightly kingdom of Grance.
Today, within a secluded cave in Grance, a goblin merchant awaits something—or someone. Before long, the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of high-heeled boots echoes from the cave's entrance. A towering silhouette, nearly six feet tall in her heels, emerges at the threshold. The figure is a breathtaking beauty of twenty-eight years, exuding an aura of commanding elegance and regal poise.
Draped in a luxurious black leather cloak, its edges adorned with embroidered white fur, she carries an air of opulence and nobility. The cloak is fastened at her throat, where the fur trim converges, lending a refined flourish. A sliver of the cloak's opening reveals a glimpse of the black leather attire beneath, hinting at her penchant for dark, meticulously crafted garments. Concealed beneath the cloak is a gothic, one-piece leather bodysuit, paired with thigh-high heeled boots and elbow-length gloves—though these details remain veiled by the cloak's flowing folds. Atop the cloak sits a hood, its rim lined with the same plush fur, enveloping her head and obscuring her tresses. The hood's shadow casts her face into mystery, rendering her features nearly indiscernible in the dim light.As the statuesque beauty, towering over 190 centimeters in her high heels, steps into the cave, her hood seems imbued with enchantment, gracefully retracting on its own and melding seamlessly into her cloak. This reveals her cascading, voluminous waves of hair, allowing her breathtaking visage to come into full view.
Her hair, a deep, mesmerizing purple, flows in lustrous, silken waves down to her waist, exuding an irresistible allure. The front is styled into a sweeping, wavy fringe on one side, while the other reveals a full, pristine forehead and hairline, radiating an untouchable, aristocratic nobility. Her full lips and the eyeshadow adorning her eyes share the same gothic purple hue, applied with precision—delicate at the inner corners, bold and upturned at the outer edges, striking a balance of sensuality and dominance. Her facial structure is strikingly defined, with deep-set eye sockets, a high, elegant nose bridge, and a pert nasal tip, all contributing to a commanding, three-dimensional presence.
Her eyes are long and almond-shaped, with downward-slanting inner corners and upward-flicked outer edges, framed by dense, particularly lush lashes at the outer corners. This distinctive shape naturally conveys the aura of a formidable queen. Her thick, arched eyebrows, low at the inner ends and rising sharply at the tails, blend strength with a hint of softness, their proximity to her eyes—barely above them—intensifying her imposing gaze. That gaze, brimming with regal authority and heroic valor, compels anyone who meets it to avert their eyes, unable to withstand its power. Her skin possesses an otherworldly pallor and delicate tenderness, exuding the majestic pressure of a being beyond mere humanity. The purple eyeshadow, deliberately bold and mature, enhances her air of seasoned authority, while a narrower ring of black eyeshadow encircling her eyes adds a striking dual-tone effect.
Though her appearance suggests a mere twenty-eight years, her sophisticated makeup lends an air of seasoned maturity. With such adornments, she could easily pass for a seasoned countess or a queen who has witnessed the ebb and flow of countless eras. Yet, her face bears not a single wrinkle, and to assume she is over thirty-five based solely on her poised demeanor and makeup would astonish onlookers, who might marvel at how she maintains such flawless beauty. Her skin, after all, is as supple and radiant as that of a woman not yet twenty, practically ethereal in its perfection.
Beneath her ears dangle a pair of rectangular golden earrings, each about ten centimeters long. Upon closer inspection, every detail of her adornments—from her eyeshadow to her attire—reflects the quintessential gothic style, a hallmark of dark sorcerers and vampires.
"Asi, I trust you're well?" the commanding beauty said to the goblin.
Baroness Dominax, you too are in good health," the goblin replied. Dominax was the surname of this noblewoman.
"What have you brought? Show me," she prompted.
"Of course," the goblin merchant said, opening his treasure-laden sack. "As usual, skirts, robes, headscarves, veils, and these jewels."
Dominax—a name tied to a vampire lineage. In this world, vampires exist, divided into three tiers: common vampires, high vampires, and royal vampires. The creatures often mistaken for vampires—those reduced to ash by sunlight—are not true vampires but their thralls or blood slaves. When a human is bitten by a vampire, there's a chance of contracting their blood poison. Left untreated, the victim transforms into a blood slave, vulnerable to sunlight and bound to their vampire master's will.
However, if a vampire, after draining a portion of a human's blood, reciprocates by injecting their own blood—a ritual known as the "blood kiss"—a true vampire is born. True vampires are not destroyed by sunlight but are scorched and pained by it. Creating a vampire is an art; drawing too much blood risks the fledgling's survival, while injecting too much weakens the sire, as blood is their life force. Thus, vampires often limit the blood they take, resulting in a world filled with weaker, lesser vampires. Moreover, each generation's transformation dilutes the bloodline, as pure blood is rarely used. The more human blood remains, the feebler the vampire, some so frail they lack any physical edge over humans yet suffer sunlight's torment.
When a vampire's blood purity exceeds 50%, they become high vampires, immune to sunlight's lethal touch, though it still causes discomfort. They possess strength, agility, endurance, and senses several times greater than a human's, along with "bloodline abilities" tied to their specific blood. Blood is the source of a vampire's power.
A vampire with 100% pure blood is a royal vampire, also called "regal" or "noble." Their physical prowess mirrors that of high vampires, but their bloodline abilities are extraordinarily potent, and sunlight affects them only as a mild psychological burden, allowing them to roam freely under the sun.
Baroness Dominax was a royal vampire of the Dominax family. The family had previously been led by two male patriarchs and lacked artisans skilled in crafting women's adornments. For reasons of her own, the Baroness harbored a deep disdain for other vampires, often relying on wandering goblin merchants like Asi to procure exquisite garments and jewelry from across the world.
As she inspected the clothing and jewels in Asi's sack, her feminine sensibilities stirred with delight at the fine craftsmanship. "Well done, these are fit for the highest nobility," she said, tossing the goblin a pouch. "Fifty gold coins. I'm pleased—keep the change."
"Thank you, Baroness!" the goblin replied, grinning as he pocketed the coins. At that moment, the Baroness's preternatural vampire hearing caught a distant sound. With a sultry smirk, she purred, "So, they've come for me? I thought they were marching to war."
"What do you mean?" the goblin asked, puzzled.
"When I arrived, I noticed an army of a thousand men nearby, with several formidable figures among them. I assumed they were bound for battle, but it seems they're heading straight for this cave."
"A… a thousand men?!" the goblin stammered, horrified. A vampire's hearing, akin to their symbolic kin, the bat, is extraordinarily acute, capable of detecting ultrasonic frequencies. While all vampires surpass human hearing, royal and high vampires possess senses dozens of times sharper. The sounds she heard were unmistakable.
"No need to fear," the Baroness said in her commanding, regal tone. "Ten thousand men would fall in the blink of an eye. You've nothing to worry about."
"Y-yes…27… I-I'll find a way to escape," the goblin muttered. "Of course, they're not here for a goblin, are they?" With a coy, queenly wink, she dismissed him. The goblin vanished into the darkness.
"No choice, Bloodwing—time to shift," she murmured. Her cloak began to move of its own accord, transforming swiftly. This was no ordinary garment; its ability to reshape itself explained the hood's earlier retraction upon entering the cave. The cloak sprouted sleeves near her hands, revealing her elbow-length leather gloves. The knot at her throat loosened, retying at her waist, unveiling her captivating bust. In an instant, the cumbersome cloak became a sleek trench coat, its inner lining blood-red, as if woven from blood itself.
The coat's former midline seam now formed an "X," with V-shaped openings above and below, accentuating the Baroness's flawless figure. Her gothic leather bodysuit, clinging tightly to her curves, was now visible—her form a perfect hourglass. Standing 180 centimeters tall barefoot, her frame was larger than that of petite women, her bust and hips far exceeding average. Her expansive chest supported breasts between 38E and 38F, closer to the latter, while her hips, wider than her shoulders, were strikingly prominent yet proportionate on her tall frame, rendering her allure irresistible.
Her thigh-high heeled boots exposed legs of golden-ratio perfection—long, shapely, and impossibly sensual. By raw measurement, her legs were thicker than those of shorter women; at her height, slimmer legs would appear spindly. Yet, their proportions were flawless—long, luscious, and lithe, with a tantalizing blend of firmness and softness. These were the epitome of legs: alabaster, voluptuous, and endlessly captivating.
But this vision of perfection had no audience, for Asi had fled, and her enemies were only now approaching.