After saying that, he slipped both hands back into his pockets again, glanced at the wreckage around him, then looked up at the sky.
"Ah, it's gotten even later… I'd better hurry and see if there are any supermarket discounts nearby."
And then, under Bruce Banner's blank, stunned gaze, he slowly walked away from the ruins.
Eastern Europe, deep within the Carpathian Mountains.
Moonlight was smothered by thick clouds. Only now and then did a pale glow leak through the gaps, outlining the vicious silhouette of an ancient castle standing atop a cliff. The mountain wind howled, passing through broken window frames and letting out a wailing sound like crying spirits.
At the foot of the mountain, the village lights were few and far between, steeped in a suffocating fear. Over the past few months, several villagers had mysteriously vanished at night. When they were found, they had all become dried-up corpses, with horrifying bite marks on their necks.
The old legends were being spoken of again
The shadow of vampires had fallen over this land.
A black figure, swift as a leopard, silently slipped into the courtyard outside the castle. He wore a black leather coat, sunglasses that covered half his face even at night. Two long blades were crossed on his back, and his waist was loaded with equipment—silver darts, wooden stakes, and bottles of holy water.
It was the half-human, half-vampire hunter
Blade.
His sense of smell could catch the thick stench of blood in the air, along with that rotten aura belonging to his own kind. The target was deep inside the castle.
Blade moved clean and precise like a top-tier assassin, taking out a few low-level vampire thralls wandering the corridors, then charging straight toward the castle's main hall.
Inside the hall, candlelight flickered.
A man in a gorgeous, old-fashioned suit sat calmly in a high-backed chair. His face was pale as paper, and his eyes held the arrogance and cruelty accumulated over centuries.
He was the master of this castle
The vampire lord, Viktor.
In his hand was a wine glass, filled with a thick, dark-red liquid that swirled slowly.
"I can smell it…" Lord Viktor didn't even lift his head. His tone was elegant and cold. "The stench of my own kind, and… the nauseating scent of humanity. Trespassing on my territory, half-vampire—do you know this is a capital crime?"
Blade didn't waste words. He drew a silver longsword from his back and pointed the tip straight at the lord.
"Your game is over, Viktor. For the villagers you killed."
"Villagers?" Viktor let out a snort of laughter, took a sip from his glass, and sneered. "Nothing but livestock. Becoming my food is their honor."
The fight erupted instantly.
Blade's speed and strength far surpassed any human. His blade work was sharp and ruthless, silver light flashing as it forced Viktor off his chair. But Lord Viktor's power was even greater. He was faster still, moving like a ghost, easily slipping past Blade's slashes. His razor claws collided with the silver blade, actually throwing off sparks.
"Too slow, amateur," Viktor mocked. With a lightning-fast burst, he slipped around Blade and shot his claws straight for Blade's throat.
Blade barely managed to block, but the sheer force numbed his arms and sent him staggering backward. The vampire lord's combat experience was far richer than his. In no time, Viktor caught an opening
One hand clamped onto Blade's neck like an iron vice and lifted him off the ground. The other hand knocked the silver sword right out of his grip.
(End of Chapter)
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