Reincarnated Femboy Vampire, with Max Survivability Stats

Yuki lay motionless on the shattered, frozen ground, waiting desperately for Bahameth’s opponent to show up so he could finally escape.

Bahameth’s dozens of eyes darted back and forth across the sky, scanning the dark clouds for a target. Minutes passed in agonizing silence. Nothing happened, and no one arrived.

Slowly, Bahameth’s eyes snapped downward, locking directly onto Yuki.

Crap, Yuki screamed internally.

Bahameth turned its massive body completely toward Yuki and began to lumber over.

"Hey, hey—what are you doing?!" Yuki gasped, digging his heels into the snow and sliding backward. "You said you needed me alive, right?! So let’s keep things that way!"

The demon offered no reply, stepping closer until its terrifying visage hovered directly over him, every glowing eye fixated on Yuki’s chest.

"J-Just wait a little longer!" Yuki pleaded, cold sweat pouring down his face. "I’m sure whoever it is is just taking a while because this region is huge!"

"You will make them come faster," Bahameth’s voice rumbled, vibrating the bones in Yuki’s chest.

"What do you mean by that?!"

SNATCH.

Bahameth’s massive claw blurred forward, grabbing Yuki by the ankle and lifting him upside down into the freezing air.

"You will scream, and Black will come."

"I can’t scream that loud! I’m not a woman! I can’t make my voice go that high!"

"You will... or I will make you do it by force."

"There’s no need for that! I swear!" Yuki yelled, panicking.

Suddenly, Bahameth turned away and carelessly dropped Yuki, letting him crash head-first into the frozen dirt.

"Finally... he is here. It has been so long... Black, it’s about time you showed up."

Yuki pushed himself up, rubbing his head as he looked up to see who the demon was addressing.

Standing before them was Iron, the Black Primarch.

Iron walked toward the two of them in total silence, his demeanor completely transformed from the relaxed instructor he had been inside the pocket dimension. A suffocating, lethal aura radiated from his black steel armor.

Ignoring the demon entirely, Iron stepped up to Yuki, picked him up, and set him gently on his feet behind him. Then he began to walk past Bahameth, placing himself between the monster and the boy. Yuki was stunned—the demon didn’t attack them from behind, nor did it make a move to stop them.

After creating some distance, Iron reached into his armor, pulled out a small red glass orb, and pressed it into Yuki’s hand.

"Break this orb the moment the fighting starts," Iron instructed, his voice trembling with a deep, consuming hatred. "It will instantly teleport you in whichever direction you are looking. Head as far toward the Citadel as you can. Run at full speed, and whatever you do, do not look back. No matter what happens behind you... keep running, or you will die. Do you understand?"

"Yes... I understand," Yuki said, nodding firmly.

"Good. Go."

Wasting no time, Yuki turned toward the distant silhouette of the Citadel and sprinted away at top speed.

Iron turned back to face Bahameth. The two standing monsters locked eyes in a tense, suffocating standoff.

"I am not in the mood for your games today, demon," Iron growled, his voice dropping into an abyss of cold fury. "If you have come to die, prepare to fight."

"Well, I certainly did not come here to die by your hands," Bahameth cackled, its maw twisting into a sickening grin. "How are the others faring against the hordes? Lykagon’s grand design was exquisite... You Primarchs are only truly powerful when you stand together."

"So you are working alongside her," Iron stated.

"No, no, of course not! I despise that filthy bitch... but she serves as a perfect pawn. Once the Citadel falls by her hand and Sky Terror inevitably betrays her, I will slip into the capital to feast upon the Saint. Her divine flesh will make a magnificent canvas for my art."

"The fact that you genuinely believe you will leave this clearing alive amuses me."

"Really now? Well, the little one is running straight to his death regardless. The Citadel will fall today."

"Do you truly believe a single Calamity and a handful of beasts can tear down the Citadel?"

"No, not on their own... but all of them together can, even if they perish in the attempt!" Bahameth laughed maniacally.

Suddenly, Bahameth’s skin began to glow a brilliant, blinding crimson.

At that exact moment, the atmosphere surrounding the Winterfell Citadel fractured. The sky turned ink-black and violent.

A catastrophic blizzard erupted across the continent. Massive, howling tornadoes touched down, tearing through the earth at over 475 km/h with path widths spanning over 2.8 kilometers across. Hundreds of ancient trees and massive chunks of bedrock were ripped from the soil and hurled into the sky like toothpicks.

Shards of razor-sharp ice sliced through the forest, shattering structures and detonating against the landscape. Within seconds, the storm shattered the scale, escalating into a Category 5 unnatural disaster.

Around the Citadel, the ancient magic and essence barrier arrays flared to life with blinding flashes. Deafening explosions rattled the sky as the defensive grid fought to repel the assault. The Citadel was under full, relentless siege.

Back in the clearing, Iron turned back to Bahameth, who had gone super-critical. The demon’s body was glowing like a dying star, radiating heat so intense that the rain and snow vaporized a hundred feet before touching the ground. The soil and trees around it turned molten red before spontaneously combusting into ash.

Iron’s black armor began to emit a terrifying, blinding light—but it wasn’t reflecting Bahameth’s heat.

"There is no need to drag this out," Iron said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Rank 5... use your Cursed Transformation and let us end this. I have a Citadel to protect."

"Very well," Bahameth rumbled.

The demon’s body began to warp and expand, morphing into a grotesque, towering mountain of writhing, hyper-dense flesh and hellfire.

Kilometers away, Yuki was sprinting for his life, his body bruised and bleeding from the flying hail and violent gales. Reaching the Citadel on foot was turning out to be an impossible task—he would have to traverse miles of open hellscape, dodging colossal tornadoes and stray artillery fire from the defense grid.

Suddenly, the air behind him turned scorching hot.

Without hesitation, Yuki crushed the red orb in his hand.

In an instant, space folded. Yuki vanished, rematerializing just a few hundred meters outside the Citadel’s reinforced rear gates.

Looking back toward the distant mountain range, Yuki gasped. Floating high into the stormy sky was a colossal, radiant figure resembling a six-winged dark angel.

The ground beneath the continent trembled as two rivers of glowing, molten liquid surged forth from the burning peaks.

Iron floated high above the burning wasteland, manipulating rivers of liquid steel into a massive, heavy shield with a razor-sharp conical tip.

A second later, a soul-shattering screech echoed across the sky.

"HEAAAAAA—!"

A blinding, hyper-concentrated purple beam of raw elemental annihilation erupted from below, blasting directly into Iron’s shield.

The beam split upon impact, refracting into eight separate, catastrophic laser rays that cleaved across the landscape. Mountains, forest, and bedrock melted instantly under the heat.

Discarding the slag of his melted shield, Iron flapped his ethereal wings and broke the sound barrier with a deafening BOOM!

He surged downward like a meteor toward Bahameth—now a thirty-foot-tall monstrosity of eyes, claws, and roaring flame.

The two titans collided in mid-air.

The shockwave from their fists clashing cleared the sky for miles, shattering the earth beneath them. Iron, now fully operating in his ethereal form, drove a massive fist straight into Bahameth’s face, driving the beast deep into the mantle.

Bahameth lashed out with its massive tail, releasing an infernal shockwave that threw Iron back into the sky.

Iron stabilized mid-air, summoning a radiant, glowing bow. He drew the string back, forming a spiraling, ethereal arrow of condensed spatial energy.

Seeing the threat, Bahameth slammed all four of its massive arms into the earth.

BOOM!

A magnitude 8.0 earthquake ripped the tectonic plates apart. Bahameth heaved upward, launching a colossal, 80-foot-tall tidal wave of magma, molten rock, and burning earth straight toward Iron at terrifying speed.

Iron released the bowstring.

The ethereal arrow struck the center of the magma wave, obliterating the core instantly. He fired six more arrows in rapid succession—each impacting the wall of molten rock and detonating with the force of a 12,000-pound payload.

Dismissing the bow, Iron raised his gauntlet toward the heavens and summoned a massive, sky-cleaving broadsword forged from dense, world-warping darkness.

His angelic armor began to crack and splinter under the sheer weight of the weapon’s concept.

Down below, a battered Bahameth pressed its clawed fingers together to form a triangle, chanting a soul-curdling, ancient hymn:

"Audite me, o reges chaoi! Tribuite mihi vires impii propugnatoris flammae, et consumite omne quod coram vobis stare audet!"

(Hear me, O Kings of Chaos! Grant me the strength of the unholy champion of flame, and consume all that dare stand before you!)

Bahameth chanted in Latin—a dead language from a world not his own. The atmosphere warped into a swirling vortex, dragging even Lykagon’s storm clouds into the singularity.

Iron closed his eyes and uttered a single word—the name of that which existed before the first flame, before the first star, residing in the absolute void of creation:

"Erebon."

Instantly, the entire world froze solid. Time itself ground to a complete halt.

Over forty kilometers away, Lykagon felt the true name of the primordial dark echoing through reality. In sheer terror, she used every drop of her Rank 7 authority to force time to stop around her.

She scrambled backward from the Citadel walls, abandoning her vanguard army, and retreated several kilometers into the frozen tundra. She watched in horror as the space before her fractured and dissolved into nothingness.

Never in her long existence had she imagined a "mere" Rank 5 human could wield a power capable of erasing her instantly. If Iron had possessed just a fraction more essence, she would have been erased without a trace.

She let out a shaky, bitter laugh as her skin split open, purple blood pouring from her chest. Even with time frozen and reacting at instant speed, the fringe of the strike had still clipped her.

Her spatial hold weakened, and time snapped back to normal.

The moment reality resumed, everything in the path of Iron’s strike was systematically erased from existence.

It took exactly five seconds. The annihilation wave traveled at Mach 46.6, spanning a distance of 80 kilometers before dissipating. The sheer kinetic force released into the atmosphere generated a continuous, explosive plasma wave that scorched the horizon into glass.

Iron fell from the sky, crashing heavily onto the barren earth.

His body was bleeding profusely, his flesh and armor peeling away by the second. Everything in a four-mile arc in front of him was gone. Bahameth was the first to die—erased before its Latin incantation could ever manifest.

Iron pushed himself up onto trembling hands, coughing up dark blood.

In front of him was nothingness—except for the Citadel, standing just slightly off to the side of the devastation. If his angle had been off by even a fraction of a degree, he would have vaporized the entire city and everyone inside it.

Iron let out a soft, bitter chuckle as he looked up at the darkening sky. The snow began to fall once more.

He had failed to kill Lykagon... but he had bought enough time for the surviving Primarchs to rally.

Suddenly, Iron watched in horror as a towering, solid wave of absolute-zero white frost seeped over the horizon, rushing toward the Citadel. It was Lykagon’s final, desperate parting strike.

Instinctively, Iron summoned the last embers of his Cursed Form. Pushing his broken body past Mach 6, he broke the sound barrier, arriving at the Citadel with only six seconds to spare before the frost hit.

Spotting Yuki among the panicking survivors outside the rear gates, Iron manifested a tendril of steel, wrapped it securely around the boy’s body, and hurled him miles away into a secure bunker zone. He did the same for as many soldiers as he could reach—just as the wall of absolute zero slammed into the Citadel.

CRACK!

The outer fortress walls froze solid in a fraction of a second and shattered like cheap glass.

The wave of -273.15°C swept through the lower city. No matter how strong or fast a warrior was, the moment the cold touched them, atomic motion ceased. They were frozen in time, their bodies shattering into dust.

Even Iron was caught in the fringe. Half of his body froze solid and snapped off like glass, but even as he fell, he used his remaining strength to erect a massive, reinforced steel dome over the remaining bunker survivors, shielding them from the residual cold.

Inside the steel dome, the metal slowly retracted. The surviving soldiers and Inquisitors stumbled out into the blinding white silence.

Yuki scrambled out, sprinting desperately back toward the ruins of the main outpost. He prayed to whatever gods were listening that what he was seeing was just a bad illusion—a fog of twisted memories.

...But it was real. All of it was real.

Yuki sat on the frozen ground, staring blankly at the two corpses laid out before him. He hadn’t called Vee or Kasumi out from the pocket dimension. He couldn’t let them see this.

A surviving knight stepped up behind Yuki and handed him a heavy winter cloak. Yuki took it silently, using it to cover the small, frozen body lying in front of him.

Nyquella—the short, perverted researcher he had known for only a few weeks, whom he had grown genuinely fond of... was gone.

And beside her lay Iron, the Black Primarch (Rank 03)—the man who had saved his life, trained him, and forged him his blade. He was a half-frozen, broken corpse.

Behind them, Primarch 01 (The Red Primarch) stood among the debris, shouting and laying blame on the two other surviving Primarchs, 05 and 08.

Yuki wasn’t thinking straight. His mind was completely numb, filled with a dark, hollow void. He stood up and slowly walked directly toward the Red Primarch.

"You... you red-headed witch bitch," Yuki said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

The surrounding elites gasped in shock.

"Excuse me?!" Primarch 01 barked, spinning around to glare at the boy.

"You can use spatial and mass-teleportation magic, right?" Yuki asked, staring through her with lifeless eyes. "Then summon every monster in this entire region. Every single one."

"You want me to teleport every monster within a 200-kilometer radius directly into this sector?! Including the second Calamity?!"

"Yes," Yuki replied bluntly. "Can you do it?"

"I... yes, I can. Mass-teleporting that many targets isn’t hard, but the mana requirement—"

THUD.

Yuki unclasped his spatial cube and slammed his industrial Dyson-Sphere power reactor core onto the snow right beside her feet.

"Use that," Yuki said, turning his back on her and walking away. "Teleport them all directly into the center of the Citadel ruins."

"Who the fuck is this kid?!" she demanded, looking at her guards in sheer bewilderment, but no one had an answer.

Yuki walked back over to the corpses, quietly whispering his final goodbyes to Nyquella and Iron.

Then, stepping through the broken gates of the inner Citadel, he pulled up his System interface and established a direct, high-frequency line to High Command.

When the High Administrators finally answered his ping, Yuki spoke into the void, his tone chillingly calm:

"I have a bet to offer... with my soul as the wager."