[Capitano POV]
I woke from my slumber once more, only to find myself in a new location. I stood before a rope bridge, old and derelict, its weathered boards and frayed ropes making it look as though a single step would snap it in half. My blade was stabbed into the earth beside me, a silent sentinel. Was this the place I was meant to defend with my life?
Was this truly my purpose? To exist as nothing more than a tool, controlled at the whims of the 41 Supreme Beings? Was this all my life amounted to—to stand before this bridge, risking my life for a dungeon's defence? If I were to die, would I simply respawn, bound to this place until the summoning to the New World? Or would my soul finally be set free?
These questions ran through my mind on an endless loop as I stood alone before the bridge. Around me, silence reigned, an oppressive, endless quiet as though nothing existed here but me. Pain still radiated through my body, and I wondered if it was due to one of my Job Classes. If so, I could hazard a guess as to the cause.
My eyes narrowed as I sifted through what I knew of my Job Classes. I didn't know my exact levels, but I felt certain I wasn't any weaker than the other guardians of Nazarick. Still, as my mind landed on Shalltear, I couldn't shake the thought that she was likely stronger than me. After all, she was created to be one of the strongest defenders of Nazarick, its first line of defence.
Then, that would make me a first line of defence as well. The thought filled me with dread. I had no control over this body, and if I were weak, I would simply die again—this time trapped in a body that felt as foreign as a stranger's. I was a guest in my own flesh.
Frustration simmered within me as I thought of my task. The only sounds to keep me company were the occasional creak of the bridge and the swaying of branches. If I didn't get company soon, I was sure I would go insane. I was meant to be a general—so why was I guarding a bridge instead of training or strategizing?
But then I remembered Nazarick's armies. Mostly skeletons. They didn't need training; all they needed were weapons, and their sheer numbers would overwhelm any intruders. That realization only made me seethe more. The task before me felt like a cruel joke.
Yet maybe I was complaining too much. What else was there to do but complain?
It dawned on me that I still had years before we would be summoned to the New World. Touch Me and the others were still here, still holding meetings. Most of the guild was likely around, which meant I'd be staring into the empty, unchanging surroundings for years on end, with nothing to do but admire the grim landscape.
A small, twisted comfort came as I reminded myself I wasn't stationed in the cemetery. At least I wasn't doomed to haunt a graveyard in death—a cruel irony I might've laughed at, had it been anyone else.
But now, with all this time to think, the reality of Nazarick began to sink in. I thought of the horrifying monsters that roamed its halls, the spells capable of summoning eldritch abominations. I remembered watching those scenes and finding them "cool," but now? I wasn't so sure. Imagining myself seeing it firsthand, and watching those monstrosities trample over thousands without mercy—it was no longer awe-inspiring. It was terrifying.
Perhaps some god had placed me here as punishment, to realize the grim truth that the worlds I once found thrilling were far from glamorous. I had only a sword, powers I didn't fully understand, and an eternity of emptiness before me.
Footsteps echoed behind me—multiple, likely three people. My mind raced as I tried to guess who they could be, but I quickly stopped. I'd know soon enough.
A familiar voice reached me first. "This is Capitano, the NPC I told you about. He has a bit of lore with Shalltear," the speaker added, with a hint of amusement.
Another voice, distinctly human, followed. "Interesting. Does he, uh, get it on with her in the lore?" he asked, his tone dripping with curiosity.
Ah, that had to be Peroronchīno. Only he would ask something like that. His… colourful nature was a well-known quirk, especially regarding Shalltear's lore. I shivered slightly, dreading what other comments he might make.
Touch Me seemed unfazed. "No, he doesn't. She just turned him into a True Vampire after the approval of the Supreme Beings," he explained, adding more detail to my lore. I made a mental note of this new information.
"Ah, so he's got a biting kink," Peroronchīno said, as if he'd just had a great revelation, making a fist as he "understood" this new lore detail. His words sent another shiver down my spine.
Touch Me groaned, the sound of metal against metal ringing out as he slapped his forehead. "No, he started as a ghoul. That's why his body looks like a rotting corpse. After he consumed Shalltear's blood, he transformed into a true vampire. His body regenerates as it decays, keeping him alive through the cycle."
I was a rotting corpse? Was that why I felt sore all over? I pondered to myself.
Peroronchīno on the other hand seemed impressed. "That's actually pretty cool," he said, nodding. "I might add that to Shalltear's lore, too. Didn't think you were into blood kinks, Touch Me." He chuckled.
The two of them opened their panels, and soon I was drifting back into darkness, sleep overtaking me once more. 'God, that was Shalltear, wasn't it?'
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I woke up in a new place, its colours just as dull as the last. This time, it was the arena. In front of me were multiple training dummies, and my creator stood beside me, pointing as he gave a command.
"Practice on those dummies," he ordered, his words laced with authority.
My body moved on its own, stepping forward to face the dummies. I raised my blade and began swinging. With each strike, I heard a dull thud, though I couldn't see any sign that my hits had an effect. My body kept swinging and swinging, an unending, tireless rhythm. Of course, I never got tired—I was an AI, a machine coded into a game. I was merely a spectator to my own movements.
Then I heard Pero's voice. He was still with us, which made me wonder where Shalltear was. "Hey, I might have made some adjustments to Capitano's settings," he said, sounding mischievous. "Check it out—I think it's pretty cool."
The familiar sound of the system interface opening reached my ears. I couldn't help but shudder, imagining the kind of "adjustments" Pero might have made. Knowing him—the notorious "horny birdman"—I dreaded the possibilities. A chain kink, maybe? No, I wouldn't even let my mind go there. That was too depraved, even for me.
Touch Me spoke up in his usual tone. "No. He and Shalltear shall remain acquaintances." I let out a small sigh of relief, still swinging my blade into the dummies.
Pero began to plead, and I could almost picture him down on his knees, clinging to Touch Me's armour. "Come on, man! Do you know how cool it would be to have our characters married? Your squire with my personal doll!"
I heard Touch Me shift, his armour clanking as he replied, "Please don't describe your NPC as a doll. It gives the wrong impression and makes it sound even worse than it already is. And my answer remains no. Maybe if you ever beat me in a 1v1, I'll consider it."
Touch Me knew, of course, that Pero would never be able to beat him in a one-on-one battle of strength. I was certain he'd only added that condition to shut Pero down.
There was a moment of silence, and then Pero's voice sounded dejected. "Yeah, I know I'll never beat you, so I guess it won't happen." Then, suddenly, he perked up. "But hey, at least I added something I wanted."
A chill ran through me. Don't tell me he made Shalltear love me. This was my worst nightmare. The last thing I needed was some crazy Yandere vampire stalking me while I struggled to survive. No way. My sword came down hard, cleaving a dummy in half as dread settled in.
"What…" Touch Me stammered, his tone edged with alarm. "What did you do!? Tell me, what did you add to her lore?"
Pero's only response was a smug chuckle, followed by his immediate disappearance from the area. Both Touch Me and I were left in stunned silence, though I was sure my emotions were far more turbulent. My heart—or what remained of it—was pounding as I thought about what I might be in for. Was I really about to be stabbed by Shalltear because of some twisted obsession?
I was doomed. I could already see it—I was about to become the new obsession of the infamous, charismatic vampire Shalltear.
So much for any hopes of a quiet, peaceful life here. I'd probably be trailed by Shalltear everywhere I went. Maybe I could try drowning my sorrows with alcohol… though I doubted it would have much effect on an undead being like me.
No, I'd just have to train and try to block out Shalltear's intense stares and fantasies. I frowned as the mental image took shape. To an outsider, her devotion might look cute, even charming. But if they knew Shalltear's true nature, they'd see it for what it was—terrifying.
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Time passed quickly for me—maybe it was due to what I'd come to call my "sleep mode," which made it feel like I was time-travelling between activations. This time, I awoke on the bridge again, facing three opponents staring straight at me.
I cursed inwardly. Well, fuck. My body instinctively prepared itself, lifting my sword and settling into a battle stance. I glanced over my opponents. A healer, a tank, and a damage dealer. They're levels remained unknown to me, but seeing how they were raiding this place, they must have been decently levelled. My mind raced, analyzing their composition and potential strategies. I chuckled to myself—maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.
Without waiting for an opening, my body surged forward, blade aimed at the damage dealer first, hoping to cut down their offence. My sword struck true, but the player barely flinched, instantly chugging a [Greater Healing Potion] to mend himself. Great. So I really am screwed, I thought bitterly. Now the whole party was focused on me.
The healer quickly cast [Greater Resistance], buffing her allies with increased defences. They were really treating me as a serious threat—though, as an NPC of Nazarick, maybe that was only fitting. I shook my head, feeling both frustration and resignation as my body pushed forward again. This time, the clash was fiercer, my sword meeting the tank's Tower Shield just before he bashed me backwards with a powerful [Shield Charge].
The impact left my body stinging, an artificial ache that reminded me of my limitations. Grimacing, I adjusted my grip, feeling an eerie, cold energy gather around my sword. With an instinctual command, the blade was enveloped in [Iceflame Edge], a spell coating it in a layer of black ice and ghostly blue fire that seemed to chill and burn at once.
I charged forward, unleashing a powerful downward slash on the tank's shield. He barely held his ground, his feet sinking slightly into the bridge's planks. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the damage dealer, wielding dual daggers enchanted with [Poison Weapon], darting toward me. My body responded on reflex, sidestepping his attack and countering with a fierce upward slash.
This time, my blade connected solidly with the damage dealer, the Iceflame Edge leaving a deep, freezing burn along his torso. He staggered back, the healer immediately rushing to cast [Greater Healing] on him. Good, I thought. That'll keep him out of the fight for a bit. With the DPS preoccupied, I focused my attention back on the tank.
I launched strike after strike, testing the tank's defences, each hit ringing out with the harsh sound of steel on steel. He raised his shield just in time, but each strike wore him down, as my second swing came down with even greater force. Seeing him falter, I aimed a precise slash at his legs, which were left vulnerable for a brief moment.
My blade connected, slicing through the tank's defences. A ding echoed as the tank fell, his body vanishing in a flash of light and leaving a satchel behind. The remaining two players stared at me in shock—and honestly, I was just as surprised. Did I really just take him down? I glanced down at my blade, wondering if [Iceflame Edge] had turned the tide.
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A/N: Well that's a pretty cool reveal for his job class, if your wondering which one. Then its the one called executor, a class that increases crit chances aswell as making it possible to one shot your opponents. Pretty busted right? Thats why I'm limiting it to a 20% activation rate otherwise he wouldn't really be experiencing that much of a challenge