At the bottom of the sinkhole, in a place utterly devoid of light.
The vampires who had previously had their ability to perceive the outside world suspended and had fallen along with the spire after it lost its antigravity ability had now more or less regrouped.
If they had been other creatures, falling dozens of kilometers and being smashed into pulp would have meant certain death. But vampires were different.
Although some newly transformed low-level vampires had kicked the bucket, higher-ranking vampires could liquefy all the blood in their bodies. As long as they were not unlucky enough to have their hearts pierced by wood, fall injuries could be healed simply by absorbing some other creatures' blood.
But newly transformed vampires had to be brought into battle, because they could not control their bloodlust and easily fell into scarlet frenzy, losing all reason. They could charge through enemy lines like mad dogs. They were the best cannon fodder, far stronger than goblins, Dog-Headed Humanoids, and the like from the underground creatures.
Although the bottom of the sinkhole was very dark, vampires had night vision. Aside from their somewhat dirtied clothes, most of the nobles were now completely unharmed.
At that moment, atop a massive boulder at the bottom of the pit, a finely dressed nobleman wiped the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. At his feet lay the corpse of a Succubus whose eyes remained open in death, with only a tiny amount of blood having flowed from the two holes in her neck.
Soon, several unusually dressed nobles arrived as well, gracefully bowing to him as though they were not at the bottom of a chaotic battlefield, but inside some castle palace.
"Duke, it seems we were ambushed by those strange people. That sound... ah, like melodious birdsong,