If Effort Yields Reward, I'll Go All Out, Damn It

Under the shroud of night and moonlight, Murphy's eyes went wide.

He stared dead at the first talent entry that had appeared on his character card and the class-change notification. After a full five seconds of stunned silence, a surge of ecstasy erupted in his heart.

Well, damn—he'd just been complaining about his lousy talents, and now the system had thrown him a surprise out of nowhere!

So this was the real essence of the experience system and template upgrade—the imitation and learning formed through experiential summarization?

"Change class!"

Murphy made the call. On his character card, "Blood Vulture Apprentice" was instantly replaced with "Blood Vulture Swordsman," and a string of prompts cascaded down:

[Blood Vulture Swordsman class change successful!

Class trait bonus: Blood Vulture Swordsmanship proficiency cap raised from "Proficient" to "Master." Damage dealt when using Blood Vulture Swordsmanship in combat is increased.

This damage bonus is tied to swordsmanship proficiency.

New talent acquired · Gale and Rainstorm: Each successful melee combo increases attack speed, up to the maximum speed the body can withstand. The attack speed bonus is lost when the combo is interrupted.

New talent acquired · Lightning Reflex: Each melee parry allows a counterattack. The success rate of the counterattack increases with swordsmanship technique proficiency.

New talent acquired · Night Swordsman: The ghostly footwork unique to vampire swordsmen enhances sword accuracy in the night and improves evasion.

Class information updated. Current main class: Level 1 Blood Vulture Swordsman. When either main or sub-class reaches Level 10 and character level reaches 10, the Trial of Strength · Black Iron Body can be triggered.]

Murphy read through all the prompts.

He didn't immediately test the changes to his swordsmanship. Instead, he realized another question:

If sword techniques could be improved by reading technique manuals, then could psionic talent—rumored to be fixed at birth—also be broken through by similar means?

Murphy narrowed his eyes. He quickly put away the sword technique manual and pulled out the psionic technique manual written by Miss Femis herself.

This one was much thicker than the sword manual.

It was less a casual notebook and more like the young lady's beginner study notes on psionics—essentially a low-level psionic grimoire.

He flipped open the first page and was immediately dizzy from the complex psionic models drawn there.

This mysterious supernatural power was clearly different from swordsmanship. Reading this stuff really required patience and brains. Luckily, Murphy wasn't stupid and knew exactly what situation he was in, so he gritted his teeth and read on.

The first chapter of the manual described in detail the most basic technique: "Psionic Impact."

Murphy could use it too, but the young lady had clearly had a master's guidance.

She meticulously described seven different release modes for Psionic Impact taught by her instructor, making Murphy break out in a cold sweat.

When he used this skill, he just crudely grabbed a clump of dark psionic energy and hurled it at the enemy—like a gorilla flinging a dung ball. Even he couldn't help despising himself for having zero technical finesse.

Maxim, who was practicing swordsmanship nearby, wanted to remind Master Murphy that it was time to head back.

But seeing Murphy so earnestly absorbed in reading the tome, the loyal blood servant didn't disturb him. Instead, he silently picked up his rapier and resumed training.

Though Maxim was a superstitious half-literate born in the Transia region, even he—nicknamed "the Monster"—knew that reading more was never a bad thing.

After about half an hour, Murphy, his head thoroughly throbbing, decisively closed the book.

Rubbing his temples, he glanced at the new prompts that had appeared on his character card:

[Repeated reading of Chapter 1 of Femis Cecilia Lasombra's Psionic Manual. Psionic Impact technique proficiency greatly increased. Current level: "Skilled."

Notice!

Because the author of this manual has a mastery level of "Proficient" in the Psionic Impact technique, reading this book and practicing can raise the skill's limit to "Proficient."]

[New skills acquired · Psionic Impact technique extension branches: Dark Ray, Protective Orb, Bind, Suffocate, Shockwave, Energy Blast, Gale Blast.

Notice!

Branch skills are extended uses of the main skill. Their proficiency rises with the main skill's proficiency.]

[Because psionic technique has reached "Skilled," the sub-class "Empty" can be changed to "Psionic Apprentice." Yes/No?]

"This is insane!"

The string of prompts made Murphy clench his fist.

All his earlier complaints about his garbage talents vanished in an instant.

To put it bluntly, Murphy wasn't really opposed to the whole transmigration thing. What he feared most was having his talents locked in place so that all his efforts yielded nothing.

But now, it was proven that in this other world, every bit of investment he made would turn into visible returns.

The haze of uncertainty about the future was dispelled a little more.

Pfft—slack off in a world where hard work directly translates to power?

No way!

I'm going to grind until I explode!

"Confirm!"

Murphy took a deep breath. Just like before, the moment his sub-class changed, another flood of prompts appeared:

["Dark · Psionic Apprentice" class change successful!]

Class Feature Bonus: Psionic perception increased, Dark Psionic utilization increased, Psionic recovery speed increased.

New Talent - Dark Psionic Manipulation: Destructive power increased when using Dark Psionic techniques, duration of sustained effects extended, all psionic attacks inflict a minor mental shock effect on enemies.

New Talent - Psionic Feedback: Dark Psionic resistance increased, Solar Psionic resistance decreased.

New Talent - Blood Spirit: A unique racial talent of vampires, allowing rapid recovery of psionic consumption by drawing on the blood of living creatures, and temporarily increasing psionic capacity and technique destructive power.

Class information updated. Current secondary class is Dark Psionic Apprentice Level 1. When either primary or secondary class reaches Level 10 and character level reaches Level 10, the Trial of Strength: Black Iron Body can be triggered.]

"Come!"

Looking at his brand-new character class card, Murphy grinned, tucked the psionic handbook into the bag he'd swiped from the young lady, and drew the Scarlet Gauntlet Sword with a flourish, hooking a finger at his servant.

He glanced at the moon overhead, silently thanking the Mother of Night for her gift, then rolled his neck and said to Maxim:

"We only have three days. Whether it's you or me, we have to push ourselves to the absolute limit to get stronger, or we'll really die on that suicide mission that scheming young lady set up.

We're going to live, Mark!

We're going to live by any means necessary!

We're going to make it back to Cadman City together! Rise through the ranks together! Do something great together, and finish our big plan!"

These words made the blood servant, who had always craved advancement, clench his fists.

He nodded firmly, grabbed his Rapier, and charged at Master Murphy.

Of course, he was mentally prepared for his master's terrible swordsmanship, so he deliberately slowed down this strike.

But the moment the blade swept in, Murphy dodged with a precise tilt of his head, then flipped his wrist and thrust forward in a sharp counterattack. The blade, humming and trembling from the high-speed movement, converged to a single point and stopped precisely at Maxim's throat.

This brilliant defensive counter left the blood servant frozen in place.

Then he saw his master pinch a flickering spark of psionic energy out of the darkness and give him a subtle smile.

He said:

"Did you really think you were something special just because I was holding back earlier? Mark, don't go easy, and don't underestimate your master!"

--

Three hours later, the darkest moment of the night arrived, signaling that dawn was near.

Murphy's arms ached terribly, his psionic energy was completely drained, and he felt like his body had been hollowed out. He dragged his exhausted frame back to the campfire.

Behind him, the battered Maxim could barely even walk.

After all, he was wearing a chainmail vest that offered better protection but was much heavier, and he didn't have Murphy's vampire physique for quick recovery. Right now, he just wanted to get a good night's sleep.

But Murphy felt a sense of joy inside.

Because three hours of hard training had raised his Swordsman level to 2, proving that killing monsters wasn't the only way to level up—it wasn't even the main way.

Mirian was sitting by the campfire, hugging her knees and rubbing her eyes.

She hadn't slept well at all that night. All kinds of scary vampire stories she'd heard since childhood had been playing out in her head like a little theater, leaving her yawning nonstop.

"Where did this carriage come from?"

Murphy spotted a pitch-black carriage parked by the fire. It wasn't fancy, just a four-wheeled cart that small-time merchants used for hauling goods, but it had the advantage of being spacious and well-sealed. An old horse in front was chewing on some hay.

"That young lady's human servants sent it over when they gathered. There was also an old woman with a cold voice who called herself the young lady's steward. She came to notify me earlier."

Mirian yawned and said:

"Lady Adele said we set out at dawn and have to reach the ambush point in three days. But she didn't prepare a coffin for you to rest in. I think she did it on purpose.

All the other vampires have exquisite coffins to sleep in. Only you don't.

You're really pitiful, Murphy.

Your status in the vampire clan is so awkward, like a freshman in college getting bullied and isolated."

Murphy didn't care about the teasing. He sized up the carriage, turned to Mirian, and said:

"From now on, Maxim and I have to focus on training our strength. Do you know how to drive a cart?"

"I do. I grew up in a village. Even though I'm the village chief's illegitimate daughter, I wasn't raised in luxury. My mother was a very capable traveling merchant. She even went to Greeny Island and Northwind Fort when she was young.

Too bad her taste in men was lacking."

Mirian waved her fist confidently. Murphy nodded and said:

"Then I'll leave that to you. Once this mess is over, I'll let you go. If you need it, I'll even give you some money as tuition for further study."

"Since when are vampires so kind?"

Mirian shot Murphy a suspicious look. She seriously suspected he was just blowing smoke, but Murphy had already stopped paying attention to her.

"Sir, more people are coming!"

Maxim suddenly spoke up in warning, making Murphy turn to look.

In the darkness behind him, flickering bloodlight was rushing in from afar, like crimson shooting stars under the night. When they got closer, Murphy saw that they were Vampire Rangers soaring through the night.

They conjured crimson bat wings and descended from the sky like predatory vultures, landing beside the previous group of vampires with a stylish and elegant flourish of their scarlet cloaks. They then bowed to Lady Femis with graceful, hypocritical reverence, like a group of midnight nobles arriving at a party.

Soon, more than thirty elite vampires had gathered here, but this was only the first wave to arrive. It seemed Lady Femis was dead set on pulling off something big.

As for those flashy bat wings—

they are the symbol of the Blood Eagle Clan!

The seven great vampire clans each possess their own unique powers. While other vampires also have delicate, decorative little wings, in the arrogant eyes of the Blood Eagles, those others can at best manage a pathetic fluttering called gliding, or the pitiful flapping of a ground chicken!

Only the broad, powerful bat wings of the Blood Eagle Clan can truly claim dominion over the sky.

"So cool."

Murphy felt a twinge of envy for a moment.

Although he was also a full member of the Blood Eagle Clan, his strength was too lacking to have reached the level of shaping blood wings. Triss had explained this to him—shaping blood wings required at least reaching the "Black Iron Body" stage.

He was still just a weak professional, still some distance from entering that realm.

But he glanced at the "experience bar" already unlocked on his character card and snorted inwardly. With this thing in hand, it was only a matter of time before he grew some awesome wings.

He climbed onto the carriage, intending to sleep a bit before dawn. But just as he sat down, he saw Mirian walk over and lean against the back of the carriage.

"You're really cunning, twisting that blindly loyal Maxim around your finger, making him treat you as his master and willingly risk his life for you."

Mirian said in a low voice:

"Are all vampires as afraid of death as you are, Murphy? This doesn't match what I've read in books."

"This is called wisdom."

Murphy glanced at the cunning lady and said lightly:

"Also, you'd better put on the Midnight Cloak I gave you earlier. That's not a suggestion."

"Why?"

Mirian snorted and said:

"I'm not your blood servant. I'm only cooperating with you because I hate the Witch Hunters."

"I can tolerate your rudeness, Mirian, because I see your wisdom and cunning shining through."

Murphy pointed behind him at the vampires whispering in the shadows of the night. He blinked his eyes, which glowed red in the darkness, and said to Mirian:

"But my kin might not have such insight.

You may not know this, but in Cadman City, a popular saying over the past few decades is that the blood of clever virgins tends to be richer in flavor and more valuable for collection.

Why don't you take a guess—if they find out you're not my blood servant, how long do you think you'll survive this night?"

Murphy stroked his chin and drawled:

"An hour? Three hours? Forget it, I'll give you some credit—I'll bet five hours! After five hours, you'll become a 'midnight snack' for vampires to pass the time. Maybe some degenerate vampires, looked down upon for indulging in 'livestock' intimacy, might take an interest in your youthful looks.

But that's a good thing—it means you'll have a 'new master.'

How about this? I'll bet you one gold coin!

Hey, Maxim, want in?"

Hearing the voice, the loyal servant turned his head, grinned, and pulled a bloodstained gold coin from his pocket, saying:

"Lord, I'm certainly interested. I've seen this kind of thing plenty of times. So, I bet that cunning, rude little girl won't last even twenty minutes!"

This exchange turned Mirian's face pale.

She wanted to argue that Murphy was just scaring her.

But looking past the carriage into the deeper darkness of the night, she could see pairs of scarlet dots flickering under the moonlight—the light from the vampires' eyes as they stared at her.

Every single one was filled with cruelty and craving.

Though she had once read the "Secret History of Vampires" written by the Chardo Explorers Association in the library, and had known various strange legends about the midnight nobles from her homeland, only now, truly encountering these supernatural beings shaped by the night, did she understand the terror the authors must have felt when writing those cautionary words.

In truth, she knew herself that she had come to make small talk with Murphy because she sensed the malice spreading through the night.

She was well aware that in this situation, only Murphy could protect her.

So, under Murphy's gaze, Mirian silently took the Midnight Cloak handed over by Maxim and wrapped it tightly around herself.

This action caused the malicious eyes watching her from the darkness to disappear one by one.

Though Murphy was a rookie, the Blood Eagle Clan operated by rules!

Until a blood servant's master died or abandoned them, other vampires couldn't just reach out—otherwise, they'd be severely punished.

Murphy let out a satisfied laugh.

He reached out and patted the trembling little head in front of him, whispering:

"Now, you're safe. Sleep. They won't bother you anymore."