The abrupt, devastating counter-attack left the Captain of the Vampire Guard airborne and critically exposed. Blade followed Reihart's trajectory instantly, an almost inhuman blur.
As Reihart descended, desperately trying to regain his verticality, Blade drove a focused, brutal single punch straight into the side of the pureblood's airborne knee.
The impact was not a fleshy thump, but a sharp, wet crack—the horrifying sound of bone meeting overwhelming, asymmetrical force, loud enough to cut through the ensuing silence of the Guard.
Reihart's powerful leg, momentarily disconnected from his central nervous system by the sheer shockwave of the blow, bent at a ghastly, unnatural angle.
In the brutal calculus of this confrontation, the pureblood warrior was proving entirely inadequate. The focused strike didn't just injure Reihart's knee—it shattered his balance in mid-air. He was instantly reduced from a formidable aerial threat to a helpless projectile, his body hurled forward into a desperate, uncontrolled fall toward the concrete floor.
Blade moved with cold, surgical precision. Stepping into the falling man's path, he caught Reihart's already compromised arm with a grip of iron. There was no hesitation; Blade immediately applied intense, localized pressure, wrenching the limb across his knee.
The collective inhalation of the Vampire Guard was audible as Reihart let out a strangled cry, his arm twisted into a position that defied skeletal integrity. In less than three breaths, the Captain of the Guard was completely neutralized, pinned by the very strength he had challenged.
The collective shock that seized the rest of the Guard lasted only a second. Seeing their commander broken and captured, the massive, tattooed Light Axe—Villion—roared his fury. His brain, perhaps less refined than his muscles, favored blunt, direct action.
Villion ignored the strategic consequences and launched himself into a furious charge, bringing his colossal double-bladed axe down in a wide, sweeping arc aimed squarely at Blade and his captive.
It was a primitive, brute-force solution: eliminate the enemy, even if it meant sacrificing the commander. Blade, unwilling to release his newly secured piece of leverage, had nowhere to go but to accept the inevitable impact—or so Villion thought.
Suddenly, reinforcements arrived.
From his perch on the high gantry, a black shape detached itself, falling with controlled velocity. One moment, the space before Blade was empty; the next, a man encased in ebony Dawn Armor Type II stood planted between the Daywalker and the incoming steel.
Villion, bloodlust constricting his pupils, saw the armored figure and grinned—a challenge was simply a challenge, regardless of the target. His immense, vampire-enhanced strength, combined with the weight and momentum of the axe, was a blow designed to cleave rock.
The Medusa AI within Zhou Yi's suit instantly registered the threat: even the Type II armor, built with 3,400 pounds of distributed impact resistance, would fail catastrophically under this combination of vampire force and focused weaponry.
But Zhou Yi was never reliant on the armor alone. He met the attack not with a weapon, but with an outstretched gauntlet.
The axe head struck his hand armor, producing a blinding shower of metallic sparks as the adamantium alloy was violently scraped.
Zhou Yi felt the blade shear through the outer layer and score his inner skin—a sensation akin to a very deep, hot scratch—but that was the extent of the damage. His enhanced, resilient body, the true source of the Dawn Knight's power, absorbed the residual shockwave, proving far more durable than the expensive plating he wore.
The axe's terrifying momentum died instantly, arrested mid-swing. In Villion's hands, the colossal weapon had suddenly become inert, like a child's toy stuck in wet cement.
The big vampire strained, desperately attempting to pull or push the axe, but it wouldn't budge. He watched, horrified, as the razor-sharp metal of the axe head deformed under the pressure of the Dawn Knight's grip—the hardened steel twisting and warping like soft wax.
Zhou Yi, utilizing basic physics that utterly baffled the vampire, applied focused leverage through the axe's blade itself. He abruptly shifted his weight and used the immense length of the axe as a lever, transforming Villion's aggressive momentum into an irresistible lifting force.
Before Villion could react, Zhou Yi had ripped the axe clean from his grasp and swung his own massive body around, hurling the Light Axe and his own weapon toward the far wall.
Villion and the enormous axe, still locked in their symbiotic relationship, slammed into a magnificent, antique railway carriage that Whistler had meticulously restored and used as a storage unit. The force of the impact was catastrophic.
The carriage's roof buckled inward, the wooden frame splintered, and the entire chassis was violently torn halfway off the rails. Villion collapsed amidst the ruin, his head split open and bleeding profusely, momentarily incapacitated by the sheer violence of the unexpected counter.
With Villion out of commission, Blade turned his full attention back to the immobilized Reihart. He pulled a specialized, compact device from his belt.
One end contained a small, razor-sharp hook, the other a miniature signal receiver. Without ceremony, he jabbed the hook into the back of Reihart's skull, securing the small device deep into the flesh.
"This, Captain Reihart, is a highly advanced explosive device," Blade announced, his voice carrying the calm finality of a death sentence. He pulled out a small, separate detonator button.
"It's rigged to inject a concentrated dose of silver nitrate directly into your brain stem. I was wondering, theoretically, if a pureblood could survive having his skull ventilated and his brain soaked in that much poison. You can help me find out."
He showed the button to the remaining, now terrified Vampire Guard. "Don't rush to your Captain's aid. Don't even look at him cross-eyed. If any of you touch this device"—he nodded toward the receiver on Reihart's head—"or if I simply press this button, the experiment is complete."
Reihart, still writhing in pain from his twisted arm and pulverized knee, made a weak attempt to reach back and tear the device out. Before his fingers could brush the sharp plastic casing, a sudden, precise electrical burst from the miniature receiver jolted him, locking his muscles.
He stopped moving, glaring at Blade with raw, concentrated hatred, then subtly shifted his weight, using the railing to help wrench his dislocated knee back into alignment with a sickening, audible crunch. Humbled and utterly defeated, Reihart limped silently back toward the stunned group of vampires.
The victory was decisive and complete. Blade and the Dawn Knight had administered a savage, non-lethal lesson in dominance, instantly crushing the purebloods' arrogance and establishing an unchallengeable chain of command.
Blade watched Reihart retreat, then turned to look at the wreckage of the old train carriage. He approached Zhou Yi, his face unreadable.
"That," Blade said in a low, conspiratorial tone, gesturing to the splintered ruin, "was my favorite 1930s Pullman car. I've always treated her like a mistress. You owe me."
Zhou Yi blinked inside his helmet, surprised by the sudden, mundane request for compensation amidst the raw tension. "My apologies, Blade. I'll make it right. Send me the acquisition bill for a suitable replacement. I keep a detailed record of my expenses."
"I'll remember that promise, Knight," Blade grunted, already turning away to address the now-subdued vampires.
The remaining members of the Vampire Guard watched the exchange, utterly perplexed. They saw two powerful hunters, one bleeding, the other armored, casually discussing the cost of a wrecked piece of furniture as if it were the most important detail of their duel.
They failed to grasp that for the hunters, the confrontation was already over. Their primary fear was not the vampires standing before them, but the threat of the R-variant and the impending collapse of the city. To them, the vampires were merely a logistics problem; the fight over the car was just a necessary vent.
This fundamental misunderstanding worked entirely in the hunters' favor, ensuring the Vampire Guard remained disciplined and controlled.
Blade turned to the assembly, his gaze fixed on Nisha, who was still checking Villion's massive, bleeding head with the Priest's assistance.
"Alright, Princess," Blade's voice was sharp, cutting through the murmuring.
"The territorial squabble is over. Now, let's talk business. Your mutants are highly coordinated and invisible. How, precisely, do you intend to find them? Are we going to stroll into a dark alley with signs reading 'High-Purity Plasma Here'?"
The blunt, aggressive challenge was clearly designed to put Nisha on the defensive, but Zhou Yi's previous, calmer inquiries had prepared her. She met Blade's hostility with icy resolve, recognizing that the Daywalker's abrasive language was a matter of principle.
"Your assessment is correct, Day Walker," Nisha conceded, addressing him by his contemptuous title. "The R-variants are disciplined and completely hidden when not feeding. If we rely on random searching, we will fail. So we change the rules of the hunt."
Nisha stepped forward, her hand sweeping toward the city outside. "To catch a hunter, you must target its prey source. These creatures are indiscriminate—they will consume any source of blood, be it human or vampire. However, Chadnoma, the progenitor, has shown a distinct preference for feeding on vampires. This suggests that the purer, more concentrated blood of our species is their preferred catalyst for accelerated reproduction."
"The sheer speed of their contagion means their need for blood has surpassed sustainable hunting patterns. Ordinary human populations are no longer enough to support their escalating numbers. They require a feast."
She delivered the final point with grim finality.
"My father has ordered the systematic abandonment and closure of every minor blood den in the city. Every single minor nest has been drained, cleansed, or evacuated. We are leaving only one operational facility open. This blood den will be stocked, monitored, and become the only viable, large-scale source of our blood in all of New York City. The R-variants, driven by their overwhelming thirst and strategic imperative, will have no choice but to gravitate there. We are setting the bait."
"A centralized feeding site," Zhou Yi murmured from the gantry, impressed despite himself. The plan was ruthless but effective.
"Excellent," Blade clapped his hands once, the sound sharp and metallic. "And the name of this generous establishment?"
"The House of Pain."
The combined forces—two powerful hunters and a group of surly, injured vampires—quickly moved out, traveling in a black, windowless transport van to the location.
The House of Pain was a nondescript, dilapidated apartment building in a forgotten, low-income district of Manhattan. The windows were boarded up, the facade was peeling, and it looked like a standard condemned structure, entirely unremarkable.
Blade scanned the building, his skepticism immediately surfacing. "No markings? No gargoyles, no ancient sigils, no neon blood drops? This is your biggest blood den? We had to abandon our trolley terminal because of the attention it drew, and you think this blends in?"
Nisha smirked, pulling out a small, cylindrical device. "We learned from your harassment, Day Watcher. We no longer advertise." She activated the device and handed Blade an infrared imager.
Through the lens, a complex, stylized blood-red sigil was clearly visible, faintly glowing across the boarded-up doorway—a symbol only visible at an infrared wavelength.
"This is our only sign. We adapted to covert operations because of you. And yes, this is our largest remaining operational supply depot. It is now the only game in town for any vampire seeking a reliable, large-scale blood source."
Blade grinned, a flash of pure predatory delight. "Very nice, House of Pain. I'll make sure to put it on my permanent itinerary after this mission is complete."
Nisha ignored the chilling threat and turned to Zhou Yi, her patience worn thin. She gestured sharply at his gleaming, armored form.
"Dawn Knight, your presence is impossible. The armor betrays our every move. It reflects every shadow and light source; it will scream 'military intervention' the second you step inside. We cannot be seen or heard before the R-variants commit."
Zhou Yi considered the critique. "Do you not have transvestite vampires who appreciate a bold fashion statement?"
Blade chuckled dryly. "Trust me, dude, the purebloods have terrible taste in theatrical costuming. You're too cool for them. You'll ruin the whole stealth operation."
Zhou Yi shrugged, a purely human gesture within the machine, and turned his back to the group. He raised his hands and activated the Optical Camouflage and Stealth System within the Type II armor.
With a rapid series of silent, complex light-refraction adjustments across the suit's surface, the black armor, the glowing visor, and the massive figure of the Dawn Knight began to shimmer and distort. Then, in the blink of an eye, the figure was gone.
The space where Zhou Yi stood now held only the distorted, rippling pattern of the factory wall and the dusty air, perfectly blending into the urban environment.
"Sweet!" Josh, the tech-savvy armorer, whistled, momentarily forgetting his nervousness. "An Optical Camouflage Stealth System! I thought that kind of military-grade thermal-shifting tech was years away from mass production, let alone being integrated into a suit that can stop a train! That's absolutely awesome!"
A deep, resonating voice seemed to emanate from the space immediately behind Nisha, causing her to involuntarily flinch and spin around.
"Thank you for the compliment, Josh," the invisible Zhou Yi replied, his presence now a terrifying, disembodied specter in the cramped vehicle.
The sudden, unseen voice immediately instilled a sense of profound unease in the Vampire Guard, confirming that their temporary ally was a threat beyond their comprehension.
"Let's go," Zhou Yi commanded, his voice now sounding ahead of them, already moving toward the building. The sound of his laughter, a low, wind-swept sound, was the final alert—for now, the purebloods were terrified, and they were controlled. The mission could proceed.