Aleda Makinos—the oldest known vampire in all of the Americas, holder of the prestigious title of Vampire Archduke, and ruler of the vampire race.
Yet such honor did not grant him the handsome, brooding elegance described in mortal novels—nor the cold, noble allure of an ancient aristocrat.In truth, he was hideous.
His body had decayed and mutated into a disturbing pale-blue color. No hair could grow on such flesh. Thick veins bulged like trenches across his skin, and the fluid seeping from his pores was nauseating.He resembled a rotting corpse desperately clinging to life—enough to provoke instinctive revulsion in anyone who looked at him.This grotesqueness stood out even more starkly beside his daughter, Nyssa Makinos.
To every pureblood vampire old enough to have lived centuries, Aleda Makinos was an existence they found repulsive. He had held power for over three hundred years; by vampire tradition, his strength should have grown greater with age.
But it had not.Aleda was a pacifist among vampires, the most ruthless schemer, and the most power-hungry of them all.To preserve his authority, he led his clan away from Europe—escaping the notice of the Church, werewolves, and other vampires—journeying to the Americas when the continent was still wilderness.
To cling to his power, he even refused to enter dormancy. He would rather weaken and rot than relinquish his throne. To ensure his dominance, he formed the Vampire Guard, recruiting elite warriors to slaughter any who opposed him.
To further consolidate power, he even cooperated with human authorities, supporting each other's rule.A man who would do anything for power—that was the truest description of Aleda Makinos.
Yet undeniable as it was, he remained the ruler of the vampire empire—the sovereign over all vampires in New York.
Supported by Nyssa, the decrepit figure hobbled before the screen. He stared at the frozen image of Chadnoma, his frail hands tapping restlessly.He studied the figure for a long time before asking his dark-skinned vampire steward:
"Yasa… can you find him?"
"I am sorry, my lord."The loyal steward bowed deeply.
"He is highly skilled at concealment. Our forces cannot track him yet. We may need more time."
Aleda waved a hand.The news was neither good nor bad—perhaps even the best answer possible at this moment. He shifted topics smoothly.
"What about the others?"
He barely mentioned it, yet the faithful steward instantly understood.
"The situation is not good. They mutated. Became like him. And they caused casualties. I have ordered the cleanup."
Aleda looked at Yasa with clear satisfaction.Turned by Aleda over a century ago during colonial times, Yasa had served him faithfully ever since. Many secrets were kept even from Nyssa—but never from this loyal steward. Yasa gave him loyalty; Aleda gave him immortality and trust.Two centuries had refined their bond.
"You did well, Yasa."With his daughter's help, the Archduke sat back on his throne. "No more pointless sacrifices. We should bring in professionals to handle this matter."
"My lord… you mean…?" Yasa asked uncertainly.
"Yes. The vampire hunters."Aleda rested his head on his hand, speaking as if casually.
"Hold on, Boss."Harlay Treihat—the captain of the Vampire Guard—finally spoke. He rarely involved himself in such discussions, but he could not understand this order.
"You want those damned hunters to deal with that creature? Why? We can take care of it ourselves."
"How dare you question the Archduke."Yasa stepped forward, baring his fangs.Treihat was not intimidated—he returned the glare with equal ferocity. As an elite warrior, he bowed to no one except the Archduke.
"Enough."Seeing his right and left hands about to clash, the Archduke's shout halted them."This is my order."
Treihat spat in annoyance, but even someone as defiant as he did not dare defy the Archduke.Seeing his compliance, Aleda nodded, then instructed Yasa:
"Yasa, show him the footage."
"By your command, my lord."With the grace of a well-trained butler, Yasa bowed and activated another screen.
The footage displayed a creature barely resembling anything human, being mercilessly dissected. Its body was opened wide, revealing organs of bizarre colors and shape.Yet even under such treatment, the creature remained violently aggressive—struggling so fiercely that the entire surgical table shook.
Switching off the footage, Yasa said coldly:
"What you saw was a survivor from the first attack—a vampire, one of our own.After twelve hours, he mutated into that. Disgusting, aggressive—attacking both humans and vampires. We lost two men to him."
"They reproduce too fast. They threaten the foundations of our race.Therefore, we will cooperate with the hunters. That is my decision.I am calling for a truce."
The Vampire Archduke set the ruling.
"Nyssa, my daughter."His voice shifted abruptly.
"That person—the one who suddenly appeared, sweeping through our outposts at night.You will contact him. Tell him we are calling a truce. We need his help."
"Father?"Nyssa had not expected such an order. She looked at him in confusion.
"He spared you once. He will spare you again. You may be bound by oath not to reveal his identity, but that does not prevent you from finding him."
The Archduke's tone was gentle, yet dissatisfaction toward his daughter laced his words.Nyssa heard it clearly. Though reluctant, she bowed to his orders—because he was the Archduke, and she was a vampire.
"Yasa, approach Blade. Bring him here."Satisfied with his daughter's obedience, the Archduke issued another command.
"And Treihat. Assemble the Guard. Be ready to cooperate with the hunters."
With a cascade of orders, the Archduke mapped out everything—spinning an enormous web.But he still had no idea whether that web would capture what he hoped to obtain.
After spending an entire wild day at sea with Tony and Rhodey, Zhou Yi returned home and buried himself once more in his laboratory.
Adamantium—supposedly a "military secret"—was, once understood properly, something that relied largely on luck.You just had to wait for the heavens to bless you with meteorites containing adamantium ore.
Earth was big. Meteors fell every day.Which one contained adamantium? Nobody could predict.With the ore, however, adamantium alloy became a straightforward process. Even the formula didn't need deciphering—Stark's shared files already contained it.
Tony's father, one of the founders of the Strategic Scientific Reserve during World War II, had collected countless materials—especially scientific data. Except for the most tightly guarded secrets, nearly everything had a backup in the Stark archives.With materials in hand, equipment was no issue.
Under Medusa's control, the adamantium ore and other materials melted, becoming a pool of boiling steel at 1500°C.Only at that temperature could the alloy remain castable. Once cooled, it became fixed instantly. Unless one used a molecular reorganizer, you'd probably have to throw it into the sun to melt it again.
Watching the churning adamantium, Zhou Yi gave the next order: casting.
He needed a weapon—something to counter certain threats that might appear.
Firearms? He dismissed them immediately.In today's world, hardly any firearm could truly harm him. Unless he stood still and let a nuclear bomb hit him, nothing in active military service could take him down.
Given his mastery of martial arts and close combat, he naturally favored a melee weapon—an indestructible adamantium weapon.
Of course, as he thought of this, he conveniently forgot about the shield of Captain America—currently still frozen in Antarctica.
But his greatest limitation was material. Whether blade or spear, he didn't have enough adamantium to forge an entire weapon.
Twenty-some pounds sounded like a lot, but for wielding purposes, it wasn't even close to the weight of the Ruyi Jingu Bang.And adamantium was heavy.So he could only forge a partial component.
The molten alloy poured into the mold, cooling rapidly into shape—a massive, ancient-style spearhead.
The flat spearhead had a raised central ridge, narrowing sharply toward the edges before flaring again at the blades.Its tip was not the simple diamond shape of a typical spear, but a more imposing sword-like profile—curved tip, straight edges, slight waist, and deep blood grooves running along both sides.The base was carved into a hooked, sickle-like shape, serving as a guard—yet retaining adamantium's lethality.Those interlocking edges could be savage.
Just this spearhead alone consumed nearly all of Zhou Yi's adamantium.But the result was a deadly weapon over thirteen inches long and two inches wide.In the era of cold steel, such a thing would've been a battlefield nightmare—no armor could withstand it.
Even now, it was terrifying.
But to Zhou Yi, it still wasn't complete.It was only the beginning.
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