Aboard the Dominion Warship - Low Earth Orbit
After Selene left, Amalia slowly turned toward Reuel, her eyes fixed on him.
It wasn't mere curiosity in her gaze-something deeper stirred behind it. As if she were peeling back the layers, trying to see what truly lurked inside the mind of the man before her.
Reuel frowned, uncomfortable.
"Amalia, why are you looking at me like that?" he asked flatly, though not entirely indifferent.
He wasn't the kind of man who flinched under a woman's stare. But Amalia's gaze this time... it was almost asking: "Are you really that much of a fool?"
"I just want to know... what's your real goal in all this?" Amalia said.
"Goal?" Reuel shrugged nonchalantly, spreading his arms like it was all no big deal. "Alexander's blood, of course. I'm too lazy to steal it, so a deal was the fastest way."
His tone was light, but unconvincing.
Amalia narrowed her eyes, as if weighing whether his words matched the scale of his madness.
"Just for blood?" she folded her arms. Her voice cooled. "You're willing to provoke an entire nation just for that? You're insane. You act disgusted by vampires and lycans, but funny how that disgust vanishes the moment a pretty woman's nearby."
Reuel fell silent. Deep down, he admitted-Amalia's instincts were sharp. Too sharp.
He did see vampires and lycans as revolting mutations-neither fully human nor fully beast. He wouldn't have cared if they tore each other to pieces until extinction. But that wasn't something he could say aloud. Not to Amalia. Because... Reuel wanted her.
What made it worse: ever since the legacy of the Emperor of Mankind had fused into him, every time he looked at non-humans... his mind split. One part saw their real faces. The other part saw them as filth.
He didn't know where the hatred came from. Was it the Emperor's doctrine? Or had his own consciousness fractured?
One thing was certain-the universe confused him. Even the ship girls weren't human. And yet, he never felt revulsion toward them. Why? Did his mind categorize them as weapons? Did he see them more as machines than living beings?
Reuel knew: he had to fully master this power. If not, he'd remain a divided man in a single body.
He took a deep breath. Returned to reality. Back to Amalia's question.
"You wouldn't understand," he said quietly, but with conviction. "You've lived for a thousand years, Amalia. And that blood... I'm not seeking it for myself. I need to live long enough-long enough to stay with my woman. For a thousand years... or more."
Amalia went still. Her gaze slowly softened. She wasn't stupid-she knew Reuel wasn't being completely honest. Maybe he was only giving her half the truth. But she also knew when to stop asking.
She herself had become a vampire to extend her life. Now Reuel was doing something similar. Their reasons... perhaps weren't so different.
Then, suddenly, Amalia extended her hand. Her expression was calm, her voice flat.
"I can help you. Drink my blood... and you'll live long."
Reuel looked at that hand. Silent. Motionless.
Foolish woman, he thought.
If she had truly wanted to help, that offer should have come long ago. But the truth was, not once had he taken even a single drop. Not because he couldn't-but because he refused. He refused the blood of a creature that had lost its humanity.
Besides, this universe was vast. There were still many other possibilities out there. One day, Reuel believed he would find something greater than vampire blood-something that could offer true immortality, not a curse.
And with the Emperor's legacy inside him, he knew one thing for certain: so long as he wasn't reckless... he wouldn't die.
"I don't intend to become a vampire," he said quietly but firmly. "Alexander's blood is just a tool-to study whether my women can live for a thousand years... without becoming bloodthirsty creatures."
Amalia flinched slightly.
She understood. Slowly, she withdrew her hand. A faint blush touched her cheeks. She wasn't used to offering something... and being turned down.
But Reuel only gave a faint smile.
"Amalia... thank you."
He stepped forward, eyes locked on hers-serious, as if trying to convey something unspoken.
Uncomfortable with the closeness, Amalia shoved his chest with one hand.
"Back off. Don't get too close to me, bastard," she snapped.
The push wasn't hard. But it was enough to make Reuel take a step back. He didn't get angry. In fact, he smiled, pleased.
To him, that wasn't rejection. It was a reaction. And every reaction... was an opening.
He remembered how Amalia-and even Selene-had panicked because of him. He knew now, some small part of him had found its way into their hearts. Even if only through hatred.
If gentleness failed... let them remember him through anger.
If you're persistent enough... even the coldest heart can be conquered.
---
As Reuel and Amalia were still talking, a knock came from the direction of the door.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
The silence that had hung in the air shattered instantly.
"Enter," Reuel said curtly.
An Astra Militarum officer stepped in with a firm, disciplined gait. He gave a respectful salute using the twin-headed Aquila gesture-formal, solemn.
"Lord Emperor, this is the item returned by the Cleaners unit from Alexander Corvinus's faction," the officer reported.
He handed over two small vials containing a thick, purplish-red liquid, then stepped back, standing at attention.
"Good. You may go," Reuel replied flatly.
"Yes, Master of Mankind." The officer bowed deeply, then turned and exited, closing the door quietly behind him.
Reuel turned to Amalia, his eyes gleaming with eagerness and interest.
"My wife... try this," he said, handing her one of the vials.
He kept the other for further analysis. Amalia eyed the small bottle with disinterest before lifting her gaze to Reuel-completely ignoring the "my wife" bit that so casually rolled out of the most infuriating man in the room.
Without a word, she uncapped the vial and downed it in one go.
A few seconds passed in silence.
Amalia stood, her body moving slowly toward the window. She pulled open the curtain with a single motion, as if trying to breathe in the night air.
Reuel raised an eyebrow, puzzled. What the hell was she doing?
This woman is ridiculous... he thought.
He hadn't expected Amalia to be that reckless. Night had already fallen. There was only darkness outside-no sunlight, no reaction. Opening the curtain was nothing but a flimsy excuse to hide her own embarrassment.
Amalia stood still at the window, her back to the room. Her face hidden in shadow-she didn't want Reuel to see her expression.
Reuel just smiled slightly, quietly enjoying the moment. The silence returned. One of them stood frozen from shame, the other savoring a silent victory.
Moments later, the door opened again.
Selene walked in.
Her eyes instantly caught Amalia hastily turning around and walking away. Her face was slightly flushed, her gaze nervous. Selene raised one eyebrow, suspicious.
"What's up with her?" she asked.
Her gaze shifted immediately to Reuel. It was clear what she was thinking.
"You were messing with Amalia again, weren't you?" Selene accused, half-serious, half-annoyed.
Reuel sighed and went on to explain what had just happened. He had no desire to be misunderstood-especially with both of these women in the same room.
Selene listened with a straight face. When the explanation ended, she simply stood silent-somewhat stunned that Amalia, for all her thousand-plus years of age, could make such a childish blunder. Her mind replayed Amalia's reaction... and she nearly laughed, but held it in.
Reuel chuckled softly instead. He knew very well-these small moments were what actually strengthened their connection. With Amalia, and even with Selene.
"It's late. Tomorrow we'll investigate the vampire mansions. Time for bed now," Reuel said casually.
Without further warning, he pulled Selene closer and scooped her up into his arms.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?!" Selene yelped, struggling.
But it was pointless. Her body still ached from what happened the previous night-and now this man was planning to go for another round.
"Reuel! My body's still sore! Don't be insane!" Selene protested, pushing against his chest, but without much force.
Reuel just smiled calmly, ignoring her. With steady steps, he carried Selene away toward the bedroom.
And Selene-her face half-red from embarrassment, half-annoyed from helplessness-could only surrender, carried off like a prisoner of the night.
(What happens next... use your imagination.)
---
Hungarian Government Military Headquarters
At the military command center in Budapest, Minister of Defense János Szabó received a shocking report: all known vampires had evacuated. Their main mansion was found completely abandoned-no sign of resistance, not even a struggle.
Reacting quickly, Szabó ordered General Ferenc Veér to deploy troops. Their mission: capture any remaining vampires and confirm whether the elders had truly fled.
Following the order, General Veér's aide brought a vampire prisoner to the mansion site.
Upon arrival, the troops immediately secured the perimeter. The area was now tightly guarded by fully armed units, reinforced with armored vehicles and biological scanners. The aide pointed at the prisoner.
"Open the entrance. Now."
The vampire obeyed. He activated a hidden mechanism carved into the old stone, and slowly, a passage opened-leading underground.
The troops descended at once, entering the damp, dark stone corridors. At the end, they reached a massive ancient hall. On the stone floor were three intricately carved circle patterns-old symbols pulsing faintly under torchlight.
Two of the circles were empty.
But the center one remained sealed by a circular stone lid etched with runes and blood insignias.
The vampire whispered, barely audible, "The one in the middle... that's the last elder."
Aide Veér didn't hesitate.
"Pour the prepared blood. Let's see if he's still alive," he commanded coldly.
A soldier brought forth a large bucket filled with fresh human blood. They poured it slowly onto the stone carvings. The red liquid was instantly absorbed, flowing through the runes, illuminating soft glowing patterns across the surface.
All soldiers raised their weapons.
Barrel tips aimed straight at the center, at the unmoving stone seal-until suddenly-
KRIEEEK... GRRUUUNGG...
A horrific sound echoed through the hall. The stone lid began to crack. Dust crumbled, and ancient hinges-unmoved for centuries-screeched in protest.
Something emerged from within.
Marcus Corvinus.
He rose from the stone tomb. His form was tall, thin, and terrifying-pointed ears, razor fangs, pale veined skin, and massive fleshy wings unfurling behind him. His face was no longer human-he was a monster, something akin to a primordial bat.
He opened his eyes.
Those blood-red eyes blazed with cruelty in the dark.
"Shoot! Kill him! NOW!" Aide Veér screamed in panic.
Gunfire erupted at once. RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
Assault rifles unleashed a storm of bullets, steel rain lighting up the shadowed chamber. The room echoed with gunfire and military shouts.
It was all useless.
Marcus shot into the air. In an instant, he tore into one soldier, then another. Human bodies were ripped apart, tossed like rag dolls. Blood sprayed across the walls, screams filled the air-and nothing could stop him.
One by one, they died.
Aide Veér tried to escape, but Marcus caught him and ripped his body in half without effort.
The hall became a sea of corpses.
Only one remained: the vampire prisoner. He stood trembling, nearly collapsing in terror.
Marcus stared at him for a moment, then walked forward slowly-like a predator savoring the fear of its prey. He sank his fangs into the vampire's neck, brutal and fast, blood spurting from the open wound. Marcus drank his blood... and more than that-he absorbed his memories.
Moments later, Marcus dropped the lifeless corpse.
He looked up, breathing heavy.
Now he knew everything.
Viktor and Amalia were dead. Kraven was in charge-but hunted by humans.
He chuckled.
"They're all dead... Haha! Now it's just me. Marcus Corvinus. The one true heir."
Marcus walked toward the exit, spreading his wings.
"Brother... William... wait for me. I'm going to free you. No one can stop me now!"
Marcus laughed. His howl-like a primeval beast-echoed through the cold, blood-soaked night.
Terror had returned to the world.
---
Outside the Vampire Mansion
In the outer courtyard of the mansion-now dark and menacing-soldiers stood at full alert. They had heard the sounds from inside: screams, gunfire, and then... silence. A silence that fell too suddenly.
Their combat instincts kicked in immediately.
Heavy machine guns were mounted on armored vehicles. Rocket launchers were raised and locked onto the structure. Infrared scanners lit up, comms crackled with panic.
Then-craaaasssh!

Something burst through the rooftop. A winged figure shot into the night sky. A massive silhouette with bat-like wings flew fast and wild. Its red eyes blazed like coals, casting the shape of a demon straight out of hell.
Marcus Corvinus had emerged.
"FIRE! Kill it! NOW!" a Hungarian Army officer screamed in desperation.
Gunfire erupted instantly.
"RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!"
Deafening volleys of bullets lit up the darkness. Muzzle flashes flickered like lightning, empty shells rained to the ground like metallic hail.
"WHOOSH!" A rocket launched, shrieking through the air, followed by-
"BOOOOM!!"
The explosion rocked the earth. Smoke and flame burst from the building's flank. The ground trembled. Some soldiers dove for cover, praying whatever it was had been obliterated.
But no.
The monster was still alive.
Marcus flew low, dodging rockets with impossible agility. Some bullets pierced his flesh-thick black blood gushed out-but none of it slowed him down.
He roared. A sound not born of this world.
And then-he attacked.
With speed too fast for the eye, Marcus tore through the frontline. His claws shredded flesh like paper. His fangs bit and ripped. Human bodies crumpled like fragile dolls. Skulls exploded with one strike, chests split open in a single slash.
Screams-panic, desperation, agony-ripped through the air, mingling with gunfire that grew weaker, more scattered... then stopped altogether.
In less than three minutes-
The ground became a slaughterhouse.
Blood soaked the stone path. Severed limbs lay strewn everywhere. Soldiers' helmets rolled away-empty, lifeless. Rifles lay abandoned beside their mangled owners.
Rocket launchers failed to lock on. Their target was no ordinary creature-he was a curse from an ancient time that knew neither fear... nor pain.
As the troops realized nothing could stop him, morale collapsed.
Some began to flee.
But Marcus showed no mercy.
With eyes glowing and wings spread wide, he hunted them down one by one-like a predator savoring the chase.
Every escape ended in tragedy:
Throats ripped open.
Chests pierced from behind.
Skulls shattered with bone-crunching force.
Screams caught mid-breath-cut short mid-step.
None survived.
Not a single one was spared.
This was no longer a battle.
This was an execution.
And Marcus... was no mere monster.
He was a message. A declaration to the world:
The Elder has risen.
---
Aboard the Dominion Space Warship - Low Earth Orbit
Inside the main command chamber, a massive hologram displayed a live feed of the nightmare that had just awakened. Marcus Corvinus-a winged monster, an ancient vampire in the form of a living nightmare-was brutally hunting down government soldiers. Their screams echoed through the audio channels, forming a tragic soundtrack to the disaster mankind had brought upon itself.
The room was dead silent. The officers could only watch.
Reuel stood tall, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes locked sharply on the display. His expression was a mix of disgust... and amusement.
None of them had expected the military to be this reckless. They had revived Marcus with a bucket of fresh blood, as if summoning a demon from hell-without a protective circle, without a backup plan. The demon had risen, and they were reaping the consequences.
"He should've been awakened inside a titanium cage lined with adamantium, surrounded by force fields, drugged, then frozen again," Reuel thought, both amused and furious.
He remembered the past-those endless arguments on internet forums, before he reincarnated into this world. Back then, he'd always insisted that in reality, the military would act far more rationally than what was shown in trashy action movies.
Turned out... he was dead wrong.
> I thought 'dumb for the plot' logic only existed in films.
But apparently... the military in this world is just as stupid.
He let out a long sigh, then spoke softly without taking his eyes off the screen.
"Marcus is free. Who do you think he'll go after first?"
Selene stood nearby. She stared at the screen for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought.
"...Kraven. He'll go after Kraven."
Reuel gave a faint smile, his tone like that of a teacher correcting a student who got half the answer right.
"Wrong. Marcus isn't an idiot. He won't touch Kraven just yet."
Amalia, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. Her voice was soft but weighty. Her eyes looked distant, as if reopening memories from centuries ago.
"He'll seek the historian. The one exiled from the castle long ago. I forget his name. But he's the only one besides me and Viktor who knows exactly where William is imprisoned."
Reuel nodded slowly, in agreement.
His gaze was piercing-like he was seeing more than what the screen could show.