출시 예정일: 발표 예정

성인 콘텐츠 설명

개발자의 콘텐츠 설명:

The game contains explicit adult content including nudity, NSFW content and graphic depictions of sex acts. All characters in the game are adults. All sex in the game is consensual.

게임 정보

블랙스론 성에 오신 것을 환영합니다.
피와 아름다움, 배신이 깃든 요새.

<뱀파이어 여주인>에서 당신은 불멸의 뱀파이어 여왕의 비밀스러운 연애에 휘말린 이름 없는 하인으로 플레이합니다. 그러나 그녀가 수수께끼 같은 임무를 위해 사라지자, 버릇없고 독사 같은 그녀의 딸이 지휘권을 잡습니다. 복종은 강요받지만 자유롭게 돌아다닐 수 있는 당신은 여왕의 신비한 유물을 찾아 모험을 시작합니다.

당신이 밝혀낸 진실은 권력의 균형을 무너뜨릴 수도… 혹은 여주인의 침대에서 영원한 자리를 차지하게 할 수도 있다.

기대할 점:

• 로맨스를 나누거나 타락시키거나 지배당할 6명의 화려하고 위험한 여성들 — 각자 독특한 성격, 비밀, 그리고 에로틱한 보상을 지녔습니다.

  • 지배적인 뱀파이어 여왕 — 당신의 연인이자 주인.

  • 잔혹하고 버릇없는 공주 — 이제 당신의 운명을 좌우합니다.

  • 의무와 욕망 사이에서 갈등을 겪는 고귀한 기사대장.

  • 피로 물든 과거를 지닌, 보살핌을 주는 엘프 여인.

  • 불안한 숲의 마녀, 유혹적이고 기이한 존재.

  • 장난기 가득한 여우 정령, 유희적이며… 신성할지도 모른다.

• 성, 숲, 마을을 자유롭게 탐험하세요 — 금기된 아이템을 찾고, 전설을 밝혀내거나, 퇴폐적인 사이드 스토리에 빠져들 수도 있습니다.

• 관계를 형성하고, 비밀을 드러내며, 최종 보상을 결정하는 대화 선택지.

• 모든 루트에 흐르는 에로틱한 긴장감 — 장난스러운 농담부터 뜨거운 절정까지. 복종, 유혹, 지배 중 선택하라.

• 다양한 엔딩 — 여왕에게 충성을 다할 것인가, 공주의 편에 설 것인가… 아니면 모든 여주인들을 차지할 것인가?

특징

• 완전 무수정 에로틱 콘텐츠

• 눈부신 캐릭터 아트와 CG 장면

• 간편한 탑다운 방식의 RPG-라이트 메커니즘 — 전투 없음, 선택만 존재

• 변태적 테마의 스토리 아크와 감정적 결말을 담은 깊이 있는 캐릭터 스토리

• 분위기 있는 사운드트랙과 몰입감 넘치는 환경

• 재플레이성을 고려한 설계 — 대체 장면, 비밀 요소, 다양한 엔딩 발견 가능

* * * * *

From the Black Codex of the Night Abbey, copied in a trembling hand and bound in cracked leather:

In the darkness before the last moon waned, the house of ash and broken stone stood above the island marsh, where vampire lords made secret pacts and succubus envoys whispered of pleasure, lust, and evil beneath a scarlet sky.

The elves of the frostwood, pale as cloud and sharp as demon steel, kept bedtime stories of a maiden whose love curdled into agony, her battle against the night ending in a silent prison of thorns and bone.

In the old city, breeders of cursed blood and harem-keeping princes drank deep at the brothel-fires, trading treasure and material oaths while heroes fell, one by one, to temptation and seduction that promised second life but delivered beyond-death.

The monks record that she who bore the mark of nadia walked the beach at dusk, a virtual shadow with a lover long lost, her memoirs etched in salt as waves crush the shore and bites of cold gnaw the soul.

When the crusade came from the east, led by half-mad knights and a giantess banner, the elven academy burned, its lessons scattered like bounce of sparks, and the dreamers learned that hope was only another story told to soften the blade.
Cells beneath the Spire held the cold long after nightfall. Supernatural pressure lingered in the stone, the origin of it buried beneath ash and rusted steel. Papers bound in black recorded no names, only outcomes, scratched in cramped lines that assumed the reader already understood the cost. The quality of the ink mattered more than the truth it carried. High above, the dungeon gates waited, final and unmoving.

A witch entered the lower halls. She carried no title that mattered. Protagonist, prisoner, heir — these were roles already consumed. Her character had been shaped by long nights and deliberate restraint, a stylized endurance mistaken for faith. Destiny followed not as promise, but as pressure, tightening with every step. The gothic aesthetic of the place offered beauty without mercy. Control was learned here. Euphoria was advertised. The effect was temporary.

Among them waited the one who divided the paths. Rival, lover, partner — names shifted, but the role remained unchanged. His presence sharpened judgment. Multiple passages opened toward the abyss, each bound to a different legacy. One path was marked by a ring, warm with memory and obligation. Another bore a single word carved deep into stone: Blade. Beneath it, smaller, final, impossible to misunderstand — Fatal.

That choice did not ask for morality. It asked for direction. Blade promised agency and blood, painted red and immediate. Fatal promised certainty and erasure. Redemption was implied by both, and delivered by neither. Every descent that followed curved away from one and toward the other.

Dogs guarded the lower lanes, bred through altered bloodlines and trained to watch hesitation more than motion. Slay was permitted. Mercy was permitted. Neither was free. Male and female, woman and girl, monster and princess blurred as sensual temptation became a tool rather than an indulgence. Taboo here was not pleasure, but delay. The Omega chamber existed only to punish indecision. Some cried out when they understood this; others did not cry until much later.

A maid of the Order carried Azur-blue fire, not for comfort, but for alignment. She recited myth until it collapsed into fable, stripping it of excuses. The labyrinth narrowed. Elder voices promised revelation, but only after compliance. Days folded into nightmare. Life thinned to function. A princess was named only so she could be unmade, her fantasy of rescue carefully dismantled.

The Spire was not only stone. Beneath ritual and prayer ran an older structure: code written before language. Fate operated as a simulation of judgment. Paths branched. Outcomes could be customized. Souls left idle were recycled. The system favored precision over mercy; its quality was absolute. When the name Catherine was spoken aloud, the structure responded, and corruption followed refusal as predictably as gravity.

Ascension demanded loss.

Death did not end the descent. Dead matter moved again, animated by purpose rather than mercy. Idols shaped to be attractive, busty, seductive — designed to provoke obedience through desire — cracked under ritual strain, their erotic intent revealed as control. When they shattered, the motion caused a brief, obscene jiggle of false flesh, exposing the lie beneath. Art slid into occult symbol. Elden rites gathered cult and Order beneath the same black banners. Madness spread not as chaos, but as system overload.

Partnered souls fractured. Memory failed. Amnesia ate chronology. Love remained anyway, unresolved and therefore dangerous. Horror grew grand and emotional, a saga consuming itself because it could not conclude. Somewhere in the depths, a devil observed without intervening, satisfied with progress.

Lust offered shortcuts through the dungeon. Physics bent to accommodate it. Salvation was proposed as a reward, then redefined as payment. Bloodlines were invoked. Rituals demanded bodies. Women and monsters became indistinct as trails vanished into the void. A second resurrection was offered — not as mercy, but as transaction —sealed by demon witness and sealed again by silence. More than one voice broke into sobbing before the terms were complete.

The descent ended at eclipse. Steel rang once. Fallen legends split into endings that could no longer agree. Awakening cut through darkness without cleansing it. Requiem followed genesis, not as closure, but as continuation. A goddess observed the scattered party from beyond judgment, her presence vast, almost stellar, indifferent to survival. Rebirth was granted. It was not gentle.

Crimson magic lingered in the aftermath, threading through stone like a living vein. Sanity thinned but held. What had been chronicle hardened into story. What had been world folded into tale. Space itself seemed to wait. The fantasy of escape dissolved; only consequence remained.

Please was spoken — not as hope, but as acceptance. It may have been prayer. It may have been habit.

Mass answered. Intimacy curved fate into its final shape. Paths locked. The mount trembled. Seductive silence filled the scarlet gate.

It stood open.

Snowbreak sealed the archive.

Sin endured.

Thus ends the edition of this scroll: heed the warnings, for in this realm pleasure and punish walk hand in hand, and every secret path leads, sooner or later, to the same dark gate.

AI 생성 콘텐츠 사용 공개

개발사는 게임에서 AI 생성 콘텐츠를 사용하는 방법을 다음과 같이 설명합니다.

AI tools are used for visual content in this game. Creative direction and all final content decisions are made by Mika at Velvet Labyrinth.