I Transmigrated as a Vampiric Prince

I remember like it was yesterday... my first time lifting a sword.

It was heavy in those small hands. Too heavy for my own sake back then.

But oh... oh Lord... that first swing... that thrill surging through my veins... I would die to experience it one more time.

I knew! I knew right then and there that this was my calling! My destiny!

The sword wasn't just a piece of cold steel anymore—it was my sole path to freedom! The purpose of my existence!

Ah... but who would have thought that poverty is nothing but a petty killer, making dreams vanish faster than they appear...

Thanks to my useless body, weak due to the lack of nutrients, I couldn't even properly wield that beauty of a weapon.

But did that make the Great Me give up? NO!

I tried, over and over and over again.

Day and night.

Weeks upon weeks.

Months upon months.

Even if the weight of my beloved dragged my arms down.

Even if I could barely scrape the wooden dummy.

Even if I was too tired to rise.

I persisted.

And was I successful?

You. Bet.

Maybe... way too successful for some people's liking.

At just fifteen years of age, I achieved a feat some couldn't accomplish even in a lifetime.

I became a Swordmaster.

And a very good one at that.

But perhaps I was still too immature to truly grasp what I'd done.

I fell into the government's palm.

I became their hunting dog.

Their best dog.

And, over time... I understood.

I understood something the rest could never do.

Some of us aren't born to live by the norms of society.

Some of us are born to paint it in our colors.

To destroy it to the point where not even ashes remain.

Nothing but nothingness.

Then, guess what?!

Because of their useless fear towards me, they tried to discard me like the worthless piece of junk they thought I was.

Isn't that just... ironic?

I did every single thing they asked me to do.

EVERYTHING!

And what did I get?

A preregistered ticket to Hell.

But oh boy, had they expected what I had planned for them.

Those peasants—not even in their wildest dreams could they have imagined that their poor, loyal doggy would turn on them, bite them, and ultimately bring about their demise!

Ahh, those cries! Those priceless moments of them groveling at my feet, begging for mercy!

If only I could immortalize them forever in my soul.

If only I—if only I had known how much pleasure it would bring me, I would have done it so much sooner... so, so much sooner.

But alas, all good things must come to an end, don't they?

Because of my actions, I went from being a dog to a rat.

Quite funny, isn't it?

Forced into hiding, lurking in the shadows, passing time by reading novels to stave off all the boredom...

Until now.

Until this fool had the audacity to barge into the sewer I was living in, just when I'd finally managed to get a wink of sleep!

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of you barging into my humble abode, sir...?" I asked, my voice heavy with exhaustion.

"Shut your mouth, demon. I'm here for your ugly head, by the order of The Senate."

"Quite serious, aren't you?" I replied, forcing a little laugh. "But judging by this, I can assume those bald bastards have finally grown tired of living their lavish lives, haven't they?"

"You can say whatever you want because, at the end of the day, you will still just be a hanging corpse, meant to deter others from ever rebelling against us," snarled the blond bastard, drawing his weapon as he came at me for the first and last time in his life.

...

"So... I guess this is the end, huh?" I said weakly, blood flowing freely out of all the holes in my body. "Who would have thought... the old dog would meet his end at the hand of a younger one? Well, at least that shithead died before me."

Then, using all the strength I had left, I dragged myself toward the bed to do what any sane person would do in their final moments.

Finish a light novel.

...

*Kekeke*

"What a shitty ending it had, huh?" I said mockingly, reflecting on something. "But even then, it's still better than mine."

And with those final words, the youngest Swordmaster the world had ever seen died, leaving behind nothing but an empty, bloody carcass and a life full of regrets.

Or did he?

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A/N: Please read at least the first six chapters before giving up because I consider that from the third chapter forward it gets better. Thanku'.