Reincarnated Femboy Vampire, with Max Survivability Stats

A few hours walk deep in the north, the heavy thud of boots marching through the snow was muffled into a silent whisper as the howling of the wind picked up.

Eventually, the screeching wind began to sound less like a storm and more like a predatory howl—until it was no longer the weather at all, but the hunting call of a great beast.

The four knights were clad from head to toe in refined frost-steel, the finest material forged in the region. They were the elite hunters of the Winterfell Citadel, dispatched to exterminate the roaming monsters in the sector. The next beast slated to fall to their blades was the White Fang—the alpha creature that claimed dominance over this region.

They pressed forward through the frozen wilderness, navigating a forest where skeletal white birches blended into towering, snow-heavy black spruces. Their boots sank deep into the soft drifts with every step.

To streamline efficiency and make replacements easy once someone fell in battle, every elite knight was assigned a designation number instead of using a name. Some called the practice cruel, but in this heartless wasteland far removed from civilization, cold efficiency was the only law. The only options out here were the boss monsters ruling the territory, or the hunters sent to slay them.

"We’re getting closer, Commander," 22 reported, her voice coming through her helm. "I can sense its essence signature growing stronger."

"Good," replied the Commander, whose designation was 09. He glanced over his shoulder. "21, 23."

"Sir!" they answered in unison.

"When we reach the target and engage, focus on its mist clones. I’ll handle the White Fang myself."

"Understood, sir," they replied, saluting crisp.

"What about me, sir? What is my task?" 22 asked, turning toward her squad leader.

"Your task is—?!"

The four knights froze in place, their hands instantly shifting to the hilts of their weapons.

"It’s coming, sir!" she shouted.

"Defensive positions, move!" Commander 09 barked.

"Right!" 21 and 23 unsheathed their swords, immediately fanning out to cover the flanks.

An instant later, the White Fang materialized. It was a massive white wolf standing nine feet tall, its immaculate coat blending perfectly into the white landscape. It looked down at the squad from a high ridge and let out a piercing howl that rattled through the knights very bones.

The air around the White Fang stirred and rippled violently. A moment later, two identical mist clones—manifested in the exact shape and size of the elite knights—formed out of the frost and charged forward.

Before Commander 09 could utter another order, his men moved on instinct, leaping forward to meet the incoming copies.

CLANG!

Blades collided against frozen steel and claws, sending a concentrated shockwave bursting out upon impact.

Seeing his squad holding the line, Commander 09 dashed into the fray, unleashing a barrage of heavy, precise strikes at the true wolf.

However, the White Fang used its superior agility to vault effortlessly out of the way, repositioning itself atop a small rock ledge. Commander 09 pressed the offensive, driving forward with strike after strike, but every heavy swing missed its mark—either cleaving uselessly into the frozen earth or carving through empty air.

"Tch! Why do you keep running, you stupid wolf?!" the Commander sneered, clicking his tongue in frustration. "22!" he barked over his shoulder. "Keep this damn thing from fleeing!"

Silence.

"...22!"

Commander 09 stopped mid-stride and glanced back. His subordinate was standing completely still, frozen in place.

"21! 23! Check on 22! Forget the clones for a second!"

"Sir!" they shouted back.

21 attempted to disengage from his copy, but the second he broke focus, the clone ramped up its aggression, forcing him to abandon his retreat to defend his life.

CLANG!

The snow clone stepped forward, raising its massive frost blade high before driving it down against 21’s parry. Instead of committing to a pure defense, 21 leaned into the blow, purposely overextending his guard to let the clone knock the main sword out of his grip.

The heavy weapon struck the snow, kicking up a thick white powder that acted as a temporary smoke screen.

The moment the clone’s vision was obstructed, 21 pulled a small explosive device from his pouch and tossed it forward. Instinctively, the clone shifted its stance and swatted the object away, but instead of bouncing off, the explosive latched onto its forearm and detonated instantly.

BANG!

The heat and blast wave blew the clone’s left arm completely off, stunning it. Taking advantage of the opening, 21 retrieved his sword from the drift, lunged back in, and finished off the weakened construct.

A similar bloody exchange transpired on the other side with 23, who cut down his target after a fierce clash.

With the clones dissolved into harmless mist, the two knights rushed over to 22 to figure out why she had failed to follow orders.

reached her first, grabbing her shoulder armor and shaking her violently.

"22! Snap out of it and get into the action!"

No response.

"22?!"

"C-Cold... It’s so c-c-cold..." she whimpered, her entire body trembling violently under her plate armor.

"What?!"

"21, what’s going on over there?!" Commander 09 yelled, struggling to pin down the White Fang, which had finally stopped retreating and turned aggressive.

"I don’t know! She keeps saying she’s cold!"

"Huh?!" the Commander shouted back, thoroughly bewildered.

"21, go support the Commander! I’ll check her over!" 23 ordered, stepping up to lower the shivering female knight gently onto the snow.

He gave his partner a firm look. "Go! I’ve got her!"

"R-Right... take care of her!"

21 gripped his blade tightly and turned, sprinting straight into the fray to assist Commander 09 against the White Fang.

.............

"Maaaaagh... I’m so damn hungry!" Yuki groaned, trudging miserably through the knee-deep snow. "Why are there literally no monsters or animals in this place?! I’m running out of essence! I need food!"

Yuki’s head started to swim. Every few minutes, his feral vampiric urge for blood flared back up with intense heat. He knew what was coming if he couldn’t find a source of sustenance soon—he would lose control, revert to a wild, bloodthirsty beast, black out, and regain consciousness somewhere random after his body satisfied its cravings.

Unbeknownst to both Yuki and the struggling knights nearby, perched high atop a jagged cliff watching the entire field was the absolute ruler of the cold—Lykagon, the Harbinger of Frost. Its eight glowing eyes pierced through the thick fog, silently tracking every moving creature below.

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