The weapons in Matthew's hands rose above his head, blocking the path of the bullets. The tremendous impact landed directly on Matthew's body.
This force left a pair of footprints on the ground.
A burst of flames painted the dim basement crimson. Matthew pushed off the ground with both feet and leaped.
Two weapons shot out of the fire first, then, with an unstoppable momentum, they pierced through Seras's chest, pinning her to the ceiling.
"A little too weak."
Matthew said with some boredom, casually letting go of his hands as he landed back on the ground, a hint of dissatisfaction on his face.
This kind of battle wasn't even entertainment for him.
Though Seras, as a vampire, possessed powerful immortality, against an unbeatable opponent, the stronger the immortality, the more intense the suffering it would bring.
"Cough, cough~"
The large gun in Seras's hand clattered to the ground. Then, her hands, in a twisted posture, braced against the ceiling behind her.
With a powerful push, she pulled herself and the two weapons down to the floor.
She adjusted her posture slightly, allowing herself to stand upright within Matthew's line of sight.
"I haven't lost yet!"
Seras coughed up blood as she charged at Matthew again.
Her hands, pressed together in front of her, didn't even attempt to pull out the weapons that had pierced her body. Instead, she pointed her fingers like knives, aiming for Matthew's eyes.
Pulling the weapons from her body would be difficult for her.
Because Matthew had twisted the hand axe and mace after piercing her body.
If she forcefully pulled them out, it would only worsen her injuries. Even if it didn't kill her, she would completely lose the strength to continue fighting.
For her, Alucard's command was the highest directive; there were no other thoughts besides executing it.
Battle was the only thing that mattered in this moment!
"How unwise."
Matthew ripped off the mostly burned coat he was wearing, then raised his foot.
In an instant, the most basic Earthquake skill was unleashed.
The massive tremors emanating from the ground made the entire building shake, and Seras, who was charging forward, was knocked to the ground by the violent shockwave.
The flame-like shockwave from the Earthquake skill caused a scorched smell to emanate from Seras's body, and her golden hair became singed and curled.
The power of Barbarian skills was released to harm enemies, thus concentrating attacks on vital areas.
"I don't want to cause too much damage. If I disrupt Luke's affairs, I'm afraid he'll cling to me."
Matthew said casually, his head already lowered.
In a few steps, he rushed to Seras's side, avoiding her pale hands that could pierce metal, and unhesitantly pulled out the two weapons.
Several broken bones, along with blood, scattered in mid-air. Matthew mercilessly stepped on Seras's shoulder.
He held the mace and made a mock swipe over Seras's head, signifying his victory, then shifted his gaze to Alucard.
Mercy was not needed in battle—this was a realization Matthew had gained from the Secret Realm.
Mercy was the privilege of the victor; the dead possessed nothing.
"All right, Seras, stand down. Go tell Integra that the S.H.I.E.L.D. battle is for them to handle themselves."
Alucard said calmly, then observed Matthew.
"Perhaps this battle isn't very interesting to you, but she will become stronger."
"I'm actually more looking forward to a fight with you."
Matthew hung his weapons back on his belt, then silently turned to leave.
Now that this matter was resolved, it was time to rest.
There was no more value in staying here.
The real battle wouldn't be far off; Matthew could confirm that.
Blade finally managed to control his trembling body, then followed Matthew and retreated.
After seeing Alucard, he had already understood the source of that feeling, and there was no need for further exploration.
"Alucard, tell me the truth. I think now is the time."
Hellboy still sat on the ground, casually putting the plastic packaging in his pocket.
His prolonged standoff with Alucard felt more like a waste of life. After seeing Matthew, he grew a little impatient.
"Perhaps it's time, or perhaps it's not quite. You will know."
Alucard spoke to Hellboy in an eerie tone.
It seemed as if he was hesitating.
Alucard, the most powerful vampire.
He knew more than people could imagine.
Seras painfully lifted her head, looking at her master. Alucard smiled, sliced open his palm, and flicked a pool of blood in front of Seras.
"Drink it. You will become stronger."
Alucard ignored Hellboy, who was getting up, and simply gazed at Seras, who was lying on her back.
"Seras Victoria, drink it!"
Alucard's magically captivating voice rang out, calling to her with an expectant tone.
"Master! I can't do it!"
Seras's lungs were severely damaged, so her roar sounded very strange.
"Why?"
Alucard adjusted his hat, then stood up.
"I just… I just feel like if I do, I'll lose something."
Seras closed her eyes, yelling with all her might.
Drinking Alucard's blood represented Seras's freedom.
She would no longer be Alucard's thrall, but there would also be no special connection between her and Alucard.
Moreover, Seras, who had never consumed blood, would completely abandon her human side once she truly ingested blood.
Becoming a vampire would gradually make one cold, until someone could awaken that frozen heart.
Seras lay silently on the ground. Alucard stood beside her, for the first time revealing a gentle, satisfied smile.
"Then, Seras, go rest. Your injuries will heal in just one night."
Alucard glanced at Hellboy, who was staring at him, and bared a mouthful of white teeth.
"I will personally inform Integra. Now, go to sleep."
Alucard reached out and covered Seras's eyes, then led the incomplete vampire girl out of the basement.
Only Hellboy remained, staring intently at Alucard's retreating back, saying nothing.
Hellboy always felt he was about to face the truth that had always been hidden, but for now, he had nothing he could do.
...
"So, Ms. Nieve, what can you do?"
The slightly plump Major said to the head placed in a wooden box in front of his chair, with a tone of curiosity and disdain.
The curiosity stemmed from the fact that this being, reduced to a head, could still maintain consciousness. The disdain was directed at the being itself.
The decorations around him were full of Third Reich style, and the indescribable flag hung behind him.
"I can give you the world, but you must grovel before me!"
The beautiful and enchanting head spoke to the man in front of her with an evil allure, her eyes shimmering, full of charm.
Like the scent of lavender, intensely almost sickening!
But no normal person would be seduced by a talking head, especially for this Major, these were all nonsense.
"Give me the world? Listen to that! Listen! I've been given a chance to own the world!"
The Major laughed loudly at Warrant Officer Schrödinger beside him. Among the few present, only Schrödinger was good at setting the mood.
Warrant Officer Schrödinger enthusiastically clapped, his smile perfectly coordinated.
"Alright, Witch! For this head of yours, we suffered considerable losses against that strange priest! What we want isn't the 'world' you speak of!
And certainly not the charity of a loser!"
The Major pulled out a pistol and shot the head repeatedly, each bullet directly piercing through it. His harshness interrupted Schrödinger's applause.
He was agitated now because sacrifices shouldn't have happened at this time, meaning his plan had changed.
The sacrifices occurred solely because of this talking head!
"I like war, but merely liking war!
Ms. Nieve, we paid so much to retrieve your head; we don't want the world!
So now, tell me what you can do! Otherwise, you and your world can continue to sleep!"
The Major swept the head off the floor, then used his cane to poke Nieve's eye.
"I can give you power, or I can give myself to you."
Nieve's head seemed unharmed, completely oblivious to the wound in her eye socket.
She spoke in the same tone as before, her other intact eye still radiating an allure that most people would find hard to resist.
Her focus, oblivious to pain, would move anyone in the world.
"Major, perhaps this world..."
The scientist standing behind the Major interjected, visibly swayed, his expression revealing a strange fanaticism.
"Magic?"
The Major ignored the doctor behind him and repeatedly stomped on Nieve's head with his foot, making a series of squelching sounds as his boot crushed flesh.
That fervent madness filled his plump body, and the continuous stomping made Nieve's face grow uglier.
"Now, it's not us begging for power, but you needing us to help restore your body! Nieve, the famous witch of history, the Blood Queen! You are merely a head now, a head that can do nothing!
What else do you hope to do?"
The Major pulled his cane out of Nieve's eye socket, then took a silk cloth from his pocket and carefully wiped the blood from the cane.
His tone shifted from manic to calm.
Seeing the Major's actions coming to an end, Lieutenant Thorin Breeze, with his hand full of sinister tattoos, picked up the head from the floor and placed it into a small square box nearby.
"Major, Lieutenant Tubal-cain Abraham died at the hands of that priest while trying to retrieve this box, and Captain Bell was also wounded. What should we do now?"
Lieutenant Thorin Breeze's question received no immediate response. The Major picked up a hamburger, slightly stained with blood, and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing vigorously.
Only after he had swallowed all the food in his mouth did he speak in a muffled voice:
"Continue searching for this witch's body. Before that, have the Doctor install some safety devices on her. You must accompany him at all times to prevent the Doctor from being seduced by her."
The Major snapped his fingers, and Warrant Officer Schrödinger handed him a tissue.
"Then notify Luke Valentine. It's time to pay Hellsing a visit. According to Vanguard Tech, some interesting people have arrived there, like the American Captain with the shield from back then."
"Understood, Major!"
Lieutenant Thorin Breeze immediately walked towards the laboratory with the box, the scythe on his back symbolizing reaping.
The Doctor, as if waking from a dream, now revealed a crazed expression.
Thorin Breeze, as the only one in the last squadron with a quasi-magical ability, could effectively counter the Blood Queen's allure.
"I was seduced? I was actually seduced! Supernatural power, is this magic?!"
The Doctor was marveling at the wonders of magic, his trembling fingers indicating his fervent desire for research.
"Alright, Doctor, go conduct your research. Lieutenant Thorin will be responsible for your safety. We are about to embark on a grand carnival!"
The plump Major settled back into his chair, his hands clasped in front of him, and a sinister glint flashed across his eyeglasses.
...
In a quiet parish, a conversation was taking place.
"Father Anderson, how are your injuries?"
An elderly man dressed as a bishop asked Father Anderson, who was watching children play.
If Father Anderson hadn't been in that church earlier, these children might not have survived.
He knew what the other party had taken, but now he was not in a hurry at all.
"Bishop Cals, I can move at any time. Don't discuss missions here; they know nothing."
Father Anderson, holding a crucifix to his chest as if in prayer, spoke in a sacred tone.
His eyes watched the children, radiating tenderness.
God loved the world, but Anderson only loved God's lambs.
"They" referred to the carefree children. Father Anderson had saved the lives of these faithful, but he had also paid a price.
Beneath his cassock, there was a large hole in his abdomen, where a small piece of his liver was missing.
That was an injury he sustained during his fight with the werewolf. Although he had killed that card-playing scoundrel of a vampire, the werewolf's power was somewhat beyond imagination.
Even though he ultimately won, he couldn't kill the monster.
"The Blood Queen. Those guys took the Blood Queen's head."
Bishop Cals whispered.
"That famous immortal witch? This world is too big. If I get the chance, I'll have to see if that fellow is truly immortal!"
A pair of light wings flashed behind Father Anderson, and his peaceful expression turned somewhat ferocious.
A zealous and devout believer, his faith was beyond doubt.
Father Anderson was the sharpest blade in the Church!
Cals wasn't worried that Father Anderson couldn't handle the enemies. Ever since Father Anderson received divine favor, he had grown even stronger.
If Anderson hadn't been a "traitor" belonging to Section 13, then Father Anderson would already have been granted the title of "Saint."
The holy flame forged from his fearless and unwavering courage made Anderson the most powerful force in the Church.
"We will gather our strength. The Lord's glory will surely spread throughout the world!"
The bishop said peacefully.
"Amen!"
Father Anderson concluded the conversation.
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