Depthless Hunger - Chapter 273: Infiltrating the Obelisk Facility

Vampire Slave Number 43, or the self-named, Azriel Ruinous, learned about the history between the humans and the Vampires and it filled him with rage and hatred.

Nonetheless, he was helpless to do anything.

After years and years of suppression, the Vampires have become the weakest race in the world.

However, lady luck seemed to be on his side as Azriel found an ancient jar filled with mysterious blood that will not only change his, but his race's destiny as well.

This, will be the story about the rise of the self-named, Azriel Ruinous, and the Return of the Forgotten Blood Empire.

...

“Have you heard about the rumour?”

“What rumour?”

“They say that there's a Vampire on the loose, he's out there killing humans mercilessly”

“Hahahaha! That's the funniest joke I ever heard! Vampires? Those Slaves? Hahaha!”

“Yeah, I feel the same! I think someone just started this rumour as a joke! Hahaha! How can those weaklings kill us, humans?”

“True True…”

In a bar, two middle-aged men talked and laughed as they discussed the recent rumour they heard.

Seeing those two, a drunk old man shook his head as he sighed.

“Ignorance is bliss indeed…”

“These younglings do not know what the real fear is…

The vampires may have fallen… but my old bones still remember the days when they were in their prime…”

The old man sobered up in an instant and his body shuddered in fear as the memories of the long-forgotten horror appeared in his mind.

He then took a deep breath as he patted his trembling body and muttered.

“I just hope that they are not back…”

Upon transmigrating, she immediately faces a disastrous flood, and then has to deal with a marriage swap to an old man who is both slovenly and hunchbacked?Someone: My wife, truly majestic and dominant!PS: This story includes a space with a bit of fantasy, and there's only the heroine who is reborn through transmigration.

Thirty thousand years ago, the Heaven Fighting Race who called themselves “Gods” invaded the Spirit Realm. Hundreds of races rose up in resistance, but ultimately suffered a crushing defeat. The Human Race was the first to concede, and the rest of the Hundred Races soon followed in succession.

A fourth chance at life. The last chance.Zarek remembered when he first experienced the Godsfall Apocalypse. Those tears of red and sparkling rouge that split the skies, opening up one dangerous realm after another.That feeling of helplessness had been palpable, heavy... suffocating. It hung above his head like a guillotine, an edge graced by death's kiss...He grinned at it.One last ride, no Talents left on his stat screen, and nothing but a dull machete and his girl by his side. What was a better thrill than that?How could he possibly fail a fourth time?Unfortunately, there were others. Other Rebirthers. Some that might have been on their last attempt just like him, or some that still had more to give to this cruel world.None of it mattered, though. He had planned everything out meticulously, each life playing its own role.He would come out on top this time. How could he not?He was Zarek Ashborn.