It was early in the morning when Alexander Anderson woke up. He went through his usual routine—heading to the hunters and asking for some fiend to kill. However, this time, before he could even make the request, he was stopped.
Standing before him was Seishan, the head of the handmaidens.
She wore her elegant red uniform, tailored perfectly to her figure. Alongside that, she carried an aloof, refined expression on her beautiful face—one that bordered on cold indifference.
"Hello there, priest. I have come to request something from you."
Anderson narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her.
"Now what would a woman like you want from me?"
The disgust in his tone was evident. The only reason he didn't outright insult her was because of Gunlaug—and the fact that she was a useful whore to keep around.
Seishan kept her composure, as if she hadn't been insulted at all. But internally, she felt a quiet satisfaction, knowing that Alucard would finally rip this bastard's head off.(Wow they are truly made for each other)
"Ah, you see, it's about the butcher. You know—the one who almost killed you the last time you met? The one who left you unable to fight for almost a year after the thorough beating you endured."
Alexander gritted his teeth in annoyance but let it slide.
"What of that bastard?"
Seishan maintained her composure, though a subtle shift appeared at the edge of her lips—as if she were barely holding back a smirk.
"Ah, well… nothing too important. Other than the fact that he is still alive."
Alexander's face split into a manic grin.
"Ah, you know, I always knew you'd be useful one day. So how about you tell me where he's hiding his pathetic self?"
Anderson had always been bothered by the fact that Changing Star beat Alucard. Not because she was weak—far from it. She belonged to the great Immortal Flame Clan, one of, if not the greatest family in human history, a lineage blessed by the Sun God himself.
No… what bothered him was something else entirely.
That filthy bastard would never stay dead.
No matter how hard you tried or how thoroughly you killed him, he refused to let death take hold. And every single time… he came back stronger.
Which only meant one thing—Alexander had to make sure that not even a single drop of his blood remained once he was done with him.
But that was easier said than done.
That bastard was as slippery as he was hard to kill. The only thing that ever kept him from escaping completely… was his own ego.
And that was something Alexander could exploit.
But why is this whore refusing to answer his question?
"C'mon, wench. Answer me. Where is he?"
Seishan's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Alex suddenly felt an invisible force press down on his body. It wasn't overwhelming—but it was enough to remind him of his place.
She tilted her head.
"Ah… I must have misheard. Unless I'm mistaken, did you just call me a wench? Someone should really teach you some manners, priest. That is no way to speak to a woman who is your superior."
Alex gritted his teeth, forcing out a half-hearted apology.
"I don't regret saying anything. Now get straight to it—what do you want in exchange for revealing his location?"
Seishan's lips curled into a smirk.
"Good boy. Now you know how to speak properly. As for what I want… I'd like all of your Memories and Echoes. I'll return them after a few days."
Alex glared at her.
"And just how am I supposed to kill that bastard?"
Seishan shrugged lightly, as if it didn't matter.
"I'll let you keep your swords and armor. But everything else should be given to me."
Alex gritted his teeth again—but ultimately complied.
He had to kill that damn butcher.
Seishan told him the location, then turned and left without another word.
As much as Alexander wanted to hunt the butcher alone, he knew it wouldn't be possible. So instead, he assembled an elite strike squad—comprised of the three most talented pathfinders on the Forgotten Shore.
And then, he began his expedition.
Yet… he couldn't shake the strange feeling that he was being watched.
Stalked.
But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find where that presence was coming from.
---
Alucard moved lazily from rooftop to rooftop, his steps silent, his movements effortless. He followed Alex and his cohort like a predator stalking its prey—waiting patiently for the perfect moment to strike.
He studied them carefully.
At the front was Alexander himself.
To his side stood a tall woman with golden hair, wearing flowing red robes. She even wore makeup—which genuinely surprised Alucard. You rarely saw something like that in the Dream Realm.
For a brief moment, he considered kidnapping her.
Maybe he could find some makeup for Seishan. It might make for a decent gift.
…Though, would giving a woman who doesn't wear makeup something like that even be a good idea?
Wouldn't that be… a little rude?
Like saying: you're not pretty enough as you are—you need to fix your face.
He paused.
…Well, it didn't really matter anyway.
They would be leaving the Dream Realm soon.
His gaze shifted to the rest of the cohort.
One was a young man—clearly eager, clearly overconfident. If Alucard had to describe him in one sentence, it would be:
A shonen protagonist.
The spiky orange hair didn't help his case. Neither did the headband or the monk-like robes.
Next to him stood a tall, older man holding a spear in his right hand, his left resting calmly behind his back. He had darker skin and braided hair—but his most striking feature was the pair of angelic wings extending from his back.
Alucard sighed internally.
Gods… how long until Nephis kills that bastard already?
I'm itching for revenge, and these morons are just sitting here—ripe for the taking.
He extended his senses, using Envy to feel the world around him. His attention drifted toward Gunlaug's castle.
He waited.
Waited for the moment when a large amount of blood would be spilled.
Because when that happened… it would only mean one of two things:
Either Nephis had won—
Or she had lost.
Was Alucard willing to gamble his life on an outcome he couldn't know?
Absolutely.
He raised his hand, aiming it toward Alex's cohort.
Then he adjusted his fingers into the shape of a gun.
Blood gathered rapidly, condensing, compressing—
And then it fired.
The recoil was mild.
The result was not.
In an instant, the shot struck one of the cohort—caving in their skull completely.
Unfortunately…
It was the makeup girl.
"So much for an early birthday gift. Oh well… I guess your skulls on a silver platter will do."
Alucard dropped down from above, pulling back his Starlight Cloak as he landed. At the same time, he summoned Beast to his side.
He looked at them, amused.
"So… we have a pedophile, the victim of the former, and a fallen angel. Oh yeah—and the newly made corpse. Wow… such a shitty cohort you gathered there, priest."
Wings narrowed his eyes.
"I'm assuming I'm the fallen angel? What's the logic behind that?"
Alucard smirked.
"Because you're black..."