Chapter 330: The True Trump Card of the Church of Blood
"Mirror Dimension?"
A man and a dog arrived in New York.
Allen sensed the overwhelming surge of magical energy.
Another portal appeared, and without hesitation, he stepped into the Mirror Dimension.
What met his eyes was a grotesque swarm of terrifying monsters, filling every corner like a tidal wave of the undead.
No wonder the Ancient One had to step in—otherwise, New York probably wouldn't last even half an hour before falling.
"Yao-mei?"
From the rooftop of a building, Allen saw a group of sorcerers guarding someone in a robe, whose face was hidden beneath a hood.
"Allen!"
The Ancient One pulled back her hood, revealing the same ageless face she had maintained for centuries.
The only notable change was the long, silky hair that still flowed down her back.
"Yao-mei, I missed you so much!"
Seeing an old friend, Allen eagerly ran forward with arms wide open for a hug, while the husky followed, tongue lolling.
In the timeline of the sorcerers, the two were quite familiar with each other.
Thud! Thud!
Man and dog smacked solidly into an invisible wall, their faces smooshed and distorted from the impact.
"Allen, don't touch me."
The Ancient One explained, "I'm maintaining the Mirror Dimension. I can't afford any distractions."
Allen rubbed his face and walked over with a cheeky grin, ignoring the stares of the others. He gently lifted a strand of her hair and said with a look of heartfelt relief, "Yao-mei, you're just the same."
"Yao-mei, have you reached the threshold of becoming a Dimensional Lord?" asked the husky.
"More or less. I've been stuck here for over a hundred years," the Ancient One answered truthfully.
"I really envy your talent."
In all honesty, the husky wasn't anywhere near the top tier among Dimensional Lords.
Becoming a Dimensional Lord meant being acknowledged by a multidimensional realm and essentially becoming its living will. It's not just about the size of the domain—it also depends heavily on how strong one was at the time of ascension.
In that regard, if the Ancient One did become a Dimensional Lord, she would easily crush the husky in a one-on-one comparison.
Of course, there are countless multidimensional realms. Large-scale ones are rare; most are of the husky's level.
Besides, not every multidimensional realm offers the conditions necessary to produce a Supreme Sorcerer-level power.
"You're no slouch either. You count as a Dimensional Lord, and from the looks of it, you're in the second tier," the Ancient One commented after studying the husky.
Outside the human world, the husky could draw on the power of his personal multidimensional realm.
Unfortunately, Earth imposed numerous restrictions and suppressions.
The husky could tell when someone was being polite.
A second-tier Dimensional Lord—there were thousands, if not tens of thousands. There was essentially no more room to advance.
After all, the more desirable multidimensional realms already had owners. Taking over the leftovers didn't just stall growth—it required the owner to pour in energy and effort just to sustain them.
As for why the Ancient One didn't follow Agamotto's path and ascend to a higher realm—truthfully, she simply hadn't found a suitable large-scale dimension.
"Do you know this Dimensional Lord?" the Ancient One asked.
"No idea," Allen answered with a sincerely blank expression.
"I wasn't asking you."
"Ugh…"
The Ancient One knew perfectly well that Allen, who hung around on Earth, couldn't possibly be familiar with Dimensional Lords. Her question was clearly directed at the husky.
If the husky did know the other party, he could step in and persuade them to back off, avoiding unnecessary trouble.
"Don't know him."
The husky sniffed at the incoming scent of a multidimensional realm and confirmed, "It leans heavily toward destructive attributes. I only associate with Lords from the Chaos and Order camps."
"Then there's no problem," the Ancient One said calmly. "If they dare set foot on Earth, I'll kill them myself."
This wasn't an empty threat.
On Earth, the power of most Dimensional Lords is greatly weakened. The Ancient One was confident she could take them down.
In the past century alone, she had already slain more than one Dimensional Lord who had tried to encroach upon the human realm.
At that moment, thirteen core apostles of the Church of Blood appeared.
They all watched the battle below with indifference, clearly unconcerned about the deaths of their followers.
The reason was simple: the ordinary cultists were mass-produced clones—mere cannon fodder.
Thanks to the combined biotech support of Umbrella and Weyland Corporation, they could manufacture these troops endlessly.
Of course, the clones were infected with a vampiric virus, making them resemble both zombies and vampires, complete with the sunlight vulnerability.
Meanwhile, the remaining vampires under Lilith's command had taken refuge in New York—and unfortunately were now caught up in the war. Thankfully, this time, she wasn't fighting alone.
"What an unexpected opponent."
Upon spotting the Ancient One anchoring the battlefield, the apostles looked visibly more serious.
The Ancient One's profile was recorded in the Fourth Reich's database—an entity not to be underestimated.
"No need to worry. She's likely focused on guarding against Dimensional Lords. She has no idea we're just channeling the multidimensional aura to block out sunlight."
"Exactly. The human world has no room for a Dimensional Lord anyway."
"Dracula, it's your turn."
In the Mirror Dimension, the ordinary cultists were no match for the defenders. It was time to play a trump card.
Dracula, now in his Blood God form, his eyes glowing crimson, reminded them, "Remember—Lilith is mine. I need her Primordial Blood to reach the Blood God's peak."
"No problem. She's just a minor character."
With that—
Dracula clenched a fist toward the area where the cultists had gathered. In an instant, thousands of them exploded into blood.
The power of the Blood God revolves around controlling blood. Paired with blood magic, Dracula could cast spells with just a thought.
The blood on the battlefield writhed and flowed into a pool, swirling ominously.
A Blood Passage.
Since acquiring the Blood God's power, Dracula had gradually developed this spell.
As the pool churned and twisted, figures slowly rose—teleported from beyond the Mirror Dimension and dropped directly into the battlefield.
These reinforcements were the pure-blood nobles the Church of Blood had captured when they raided the vampire stronghold.
Nearly ten thousand of them, enhanced through biotech far beyond their original capabilities.
The newly modified vampires now bore thick armor plates on their bodies and carried advanced firearms—purpose-built war machines.
Most critically, Dracula could remotely control these bioengineered vampire soldiers like puppets, using them to cast vampire magic. A perfect fusion of sorcery, biotechnology, and modern warfare.
And they could regenerate quickly by drinking blood.
"Who the hell are you people?!"
From the skies, Tony Stark, who was providing tactical support, spotted the thirteen apostles gathered on the rooftop and personally witnessed the summoning of the vampire army. He immediately moved in to strike.
"Your killer—Thorned Rose."
One of them, a bramble-covered mutant, acted first. Hundreds of thorny vines surged from its body, moving with eerie sentience, sweeping toward Iron Man in midair.
Boom boom boom…
Micro-missiles from the armor and repulsor blasts flew out, but they had little effect.
They only darkened the surface of the vines slightly, which then regenerated at visible speed.
"Shit! Damn it!"
Seeing things going south, Tony decisively chose to retreat.
But the vines shot out like Spider-Man's webs, swinging between buildings as they chased the fleeing Iron Man.
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