The impact echoed like a cannon blast.
Drake's massive body tilted violently to the side under the force of the blow, his transformed frame finally showing signs of being shaken. Yet even then, he only bent slightly at the waist, his monstrous physique absorbing the damage with terrifying resilience.
Locke didn't pause.
Stepping forward with sharp precision, he drew the long sword from behind his back in one fluid motion. The blade flashed like lightning, cutting straight into Drake's abdomen with a speed that left afterimages in its wake. The strike landed cleanly—but instead of resistance, it felt like slamming into solid metal.
Drake grinned.
Using the sword lodged against his body as leverage, he surged forward instead of retreating. His fist came crashing into Locke's chest with overwhelming force, the impact detonating like an explosion at point-blank range.
Boom!
The shockwave tore through Locke's body. His organs vibrated violently, his breath hitching as a surge of heat rushed upward from his chest. In the next instant, blood spilled from his mouth.
But it wasn't red.
The liquid that splattered into the air shimmered under the light, pale and almost luminous. It fell in scattered droplets, gleaming faintly as it hit the ground.
Hannibal stared.
"Oh my god… white blood?" he blurted, his voice cracking with disbelief as he leaned forward from the top of the stairs.
Albert was just as stunned, her gaze locked onto the strange sight, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.
Drake noticed too.
A flicker of surprise crossed his monstrous face, but it didn't slow him down. He pressed the advantage immediately, launching into a barrage of heavy punches aimed straight at Locke. Each strike carried crushing force, enough to shatter bone if it landed cleanly.
Locke reacted quickly.
His arms snapped up in front of his chest, bracing against the assault. Blow after blow slammed into him, the force traveling through his body as he held his ground, absorbing the damage through sheer endurance.
The third punch hit.
That was enough.
Locke twisted his body, driving a powerful kick into Drake's side. The force behind it broke the rhythm of the attack completely, sending the massive creature flying backward.
Boom!
Drake's body slammed into the steel wall of the factory, the impact embedding him into the structure for a brief moment before the metal groaned under the pressure.
"ROAR!"
The response came instantly.
Drake tore himself free and lunged forward again, his fury escalating as he charged straight back into the fight. This time, however, the balance had shifted.
Blade moved.
Using the opening Locke had created, he surged forward, his silver blade cutting through the air with lethal precision. The strike came down hard, forcing Drake into a defensive exchange as the two clashed again.
At the same time, Locke blurred into motion.
His figure split into afterimages as he moved around them, reappearing behind Drake in an instant. His sword lashed out again, carving across the creature's back with a clean, decisive strike.
Dark blood spilled.
Drake staggered slightly, but instead of anger, a feral smile stretched across his face. Silver meant nothing to him now. With a sudden motion, he turned and slammed his palm into Blade, sending him flying aside before shifting his focus entirely.
Locke.
That was the real threat.
The humiliation from their first encounter, combined with the pressure Locke now exerted, twisted into something deeper. Drake's killing intent locked onto him completely as he charged forward again.
Locke retreated.
His eyes flicked briefly to the ground, catching sight of the arrow Albert had fired earlier—the one carrying the genetic compound. His mind moved quickly, calculating, while his body continued to evade Drake's relentless pursuit.
Speed was his advantage.
Even in this state, Drake couldn't catch him easily. After several exchanges, the ancient vampire's focus shifted again, frustration building as he turned his attention back toward Blade.
Blade was weaker.
Easier to eliminate first.
At the same time, the situation around them worsened.
Hannibal and Albert barely had time to process what they had witnessed before more vampires poured out from the side passages. Their numbers surged again, rushing toward them with renewed aggression under the distant roar of their leader.
The pressure mounted instantly.
Locke moved again.
An afterimage flashed as he narrowly dodged a devastating punch from Drake. In that same moment, Blade seized the opportunity, stepping in with a powerful slash that drove Drake down to the ground.
Before Drake could recover, Locke followed up.
His leg lashed out, delivering another brutal kick that sent Drake sliding across the floor, the force tearing through the ground beneath him.
"ROAR!"
The sound carried frustration now.
Drake pushed himself up, his expression turning colder as he reassessed the situation. His gaze locked onto Blade, calculating, his intent clear.
Kill Blade first.
Then deal with Locke.
Locke saw it.
His eyes sharpened as Drake rushed forward, intent on ending the fight decisively. The silver blade in Locke's hand moved like a streak of light, cutting toward Drake's back with deadly precision.
Drake didn't even turn.
With a single motion, he struck Blade aside again, completely ignoring the attack behind him. His focus remained fixed, his determination unshaken.
But Locke was faster.
In a blur of motion, he crossed the distance ahead of Drake, appearing directly in front of Blade. His sword thrust forward in the same instant, piercing straight through Drake's chest.
The world seemed to pause.
Drake's pupils contracted violently, his expression freezing as the blade sank deep into his body. Even with his resistance, a penetrating wound like this was something he couldn't ignore.
"ROAR…?"
Confusion flickered across his face.
His hand moved instinctively, reaching toward Locke, but before he could grab him, Locke's foot slammed into his chest. The force drove him backward while simultaneously pulling the blade free from his body.
Blood followed.
Dark red spilled down his torso as he staggered back, his hand pressing against the wound. A feral grin still clung to his lips, but something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Slowly, he looked down.
The wound wasn't healing.
His expression changed.
The regeneration that should have begun instantly… didn't. Instead, the flesh around the injury began to break down, his muscles losing their unnatural density as his monstrous form started to collapse.
His body reverted.
The terrifying exterior dissolved, shrinking back into a humanoid shape, his strength visibly draining with every passing second.
Drake stared at Locke, disbelief filling his eyes.
"What… did you do?"
Locke stepped forward.
A faint smile touched his lips, calm and controlled, as if everything had unfolded exactly as expected.
"Nothing special," he said. "Just sending you to where you belong."
The answer was simple.
When Drake had focused entirely on Blade, the opportunity had appeared. Locke had retrieved the genetic compound and driven it into Drake's body unnoticed. The needle was too small, the sensation too insignificant amidst the chaos of battle for Drake to detect.
But the effect was absolute.
Without that moment of distraction, it would have been impossible. In his transformed state, Drake's body would have destroyed the injection instantly. Only by exploiting that single lapse had Locke been able to complete it.
Now it was over.
Drake's body collapsed.
Locke stepped in without hesitation, his hand rising and hovering above the fallen vampire's head. His expression sharpened slightly as he activated the ability.
"Deprivation."
An invisible wave spread outward.
It enveloped Drake's body completely, and in the next instant, something shifted. A strange heat surged into Locke, flowing through him like liquid fire. His muscles tightened, becoming denser, stronger, as an immense power settled into his frame.
The changes were immediate.
The lingering pain from the battle vanished, replaced by a steady, overwhelming sense of strength. His body refined itself, evolving further as the stolen power integrated seamlessly.
Locke exhaled slowly, lowering his hand.
Drake lay there, pale and weakened, his transformation undone completely.
But his attention had shifted.
Instead of Locke, his gaze moved toward Blade, who was rising slowly from the rubble nearby. There was something strange in his expression now—something closer to realization than hatred.
"The vampire race… has always searched for the perfect bloodline," he said weakly. "And you… are exactly what we were looking for."
Blade didn't respond.
Drake smiled faintly, the expression hollow and exhausted. Then his eyes closed, his body going still as the last of his strength faded away.
At the same time, something changed.
From above, sudden cries echoed through the hall. Locke looked up, his gaze sweeping across the upper levels of the factory. One by one, the remaining vampires collapsed, their bodies igniting from within.
Flames consumed them.
Their forms broke apart rapidly, turning into ash that scattered across the ground. Even the vampire leaders weren't spared, their resistance meaningless against the effect spreading through their bloodline.
The source was obvious.
With Drake's destruction, the genetic compound completed its purpose. As the origin of the vampire lineage, his fall triggered the collapse of everything tied to him.
Everything except one.
Locke's gaze shifted.
Blade stood there, unchanged, unaffected by the wave of destruction. The reason was clear—he was something different, something that existed outside the chain Drake had ruled.
The last of his kind.
Around them, Hannibal and Albert stared in shock, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and relief as the battle finally came to an end.
Locke looked at them once more.
A faint smile appeared on his face as his body began to blur, his form dissolving slowly into nothingness.
"Guess this is where I head out," he said lightly.
Before anyone could respond, he vanished completely, leaving behind a silent hall and a group of people who could only stare at where he had been.
....
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