Tonight, Alice joins the hunt.

Within the fortress, an alternate world had been constructed, and this battle was a blood ritual sweeping across the entire world. The young vampire girl initially struggled to even keep up with Sayo's movements. However, she quickly revealed an exceptionally powerful learning ability, and her physical attributes increased at a visible rate!

She is growing up...

Like wisps of smoke, the afterimages of vampires swarmed upwards, their bursting blood energy tracing countless radiating lines in the air. Each flowing shadow represented a unique skill honed through a vampire's vast knowledge and experience over countless years. Each strike was enough to topple a colossal mountain.

Yet they were all defeated, even though each of their attacks was delivered with all their might, each attack a unified whole. They were still the losers—there are approximately 65,500 techniques that can be observed with the naked eye, and in this deadly river of convergence, if just 1,000 attacks combine with each other, it becomes a divine strike comparable to the extraordinary level, achieving perfect strength, willpower, and precision!

Of the 65,500 types, 3,400 were effective, and 126 successfully broke through the young vampire's defenses and touched her true form. As a result, she died 126 times, either shattered to pieces, reduced to dust, burned to ashes without leaving a single cell, or sealed in a dynamic cycle of positive and negative annihilation, causing all her genetic chains to break down and collapse.

She died 126 times, and each time she managed to take down her attacker. However, no matter how utterly she died, she could always rise from the dead and, upon rising again, master the very technique that had killed her.

Originally, a single strike would have pierced her defenses and easily killed her. Now, it took the power of the River of Death to finally behead her after more than ten exchanges. But whether her head was destroyed or sealed away, another version of her would be born from nothingness, and then return the power of destruction to her adversaries.

Her life seemed endless, her energy seemed endless, her vitality seemed endless, and her growth seemed endless.

She is devouring...

Those ancient lords from other realms joined the battle. Some summoned powerful familiars, unleashing techniques with overwhelming energy that shook even the rules themselves. Others froze time, using invisible, traceless substitute spirits to deliver a million fatal blows to her within the gaps of time. Still others even distorted space with their will, destroying the Dead River hidden in the void, almost transforming it into an independent world, almost from the inside out.

Each of them was a powerful being, standing atop the ladder of existence before the dragon broke free of their own timeline. They were the demon lords of their respective worlds, and under other circumstances, every skill they used would be worthy of detailed description, and any hero who opposed them would have to exhaust all means to reach the same level as them. But here, all those procedures were omitted.

Because their power took effect, completed, and killed. Then, the slain young vampire was reborn from nothingness and repaid them with the power copied from their hands.

She is evolving...

The battle lasted a long time, perhaps very long, perhaps not long, since time didn't really matter here. The afterimages of the vampires surged forward again and again, only to be routed or destroyed each time. The Highlords joined forces to kill her time and again, only for the resurrected undead to return with renewed force.

Even the longest river eventually runs dry.

As the countless shimmering eyes that appeared to be chandeliers on the dome closed, the last few vampire lords met their demise.

—Evangeline lowered her hand, now only half its original length. In the previous battles, she had unleashed so many spells, honed over countless years, that counting them seemed futile. This world had been destroyed hundreds, even thousands, of times by her hand. The strongest technique she had developed in her original world, a secret art capable of turning the continent into eternal darkness, had been used by her thirty times in different forms, aided by the almost immeasurable magic power of the River of Death. And the result was little different from that of her kin.

Before her, a young vampire, shrouded in tangible blood energy and with every inch of its skin contorted by distorted spacetime structures and malevolent curses, was walking towards her through the sky. Every part of the vampire's body was being torn apart and destroyed by at least thirty different types of energy every moment. And at the same time as it was being destroyed, an incredibly high regenerative power, from who-knows-where, would emerge and completely repair the damaged flesh and blood structure.

It must have hurt terribly, but the vampire's steps were light and rhythmic. In her left hand she carried a crimson spear, formed from condensed energy, which had pierced the hearts of countless vampires to the point that it was almost solidified by a curse. In her right hand, she lightly gripped an ordinary, nameless Japanese katana—the very katana carried by the vampire lord, Sayo Senju—in the final battle, she had used the spear as a blade, exchanging hundreds of thousands of blows with Sayo Senju, and the result was that she remained here.

She arrived seemingly stepping through the air, and by the time she reached Evangeline, her katana was already touching the latter's neck. The war had reached its end. And now was the time to bring it to a close.

Evangeline looked around.

All around was a sea of ​​blood, pure blood, a pure sea. It possessed no genetic structure or hereditary characteristics; it was simply a mixture of clumps of disintegrating red blood cells, platelets, and a sufficient amount of water and metal ions. It belonged to no one, bore no vampire markers or genetic information, and existed purely as blood.

Theoretically speaking, this stuff cannot be called blood at all, nor can it form a stable structure independently. However, it exists here as a matter of course, and like ribbons, it forms huge rivers that flow in the air in the vast space, connecting the other side of the sky to this side of the earth.

They are seas of blood, thousands upon thousands of rivers divided by oceans of blood.

They are remnants, the remnants left behind by all the defeated vampires.

They are legacies, separated from the dead river, no longer belonging to any party, yet awaiting their inheritors.

And so they surrounded the vampire girl named Remilia Scarlet. Like subjects guarding a king, like arms protecting the Silver Heart—they awaited her, craved her, and enveloped her, seeking her approval.

But she ignored it.

"...Am I the last one?" Evangeline turned her gaze away from the floating sea of ​​blood and looked at the vampire woman in front of her who looked like a young girl, but whose true nature was unknown.

“To be precise, you are the second to last. The ritual is not over yet, and the final obstacle has not yet appeared before me,” Remilia replied calmly. The unstable magical energy and vicious curses floating around her subsided at a visible speed, then became one of her powers.

She grows stronger every second. And in her eyes, a pure and nascent light begins to emerge.

It is not yet fully formed, but it is already more powerful than ever before.

"Why don't you take action?"

“I hate those who don’t listen to people finish speaking, so they will fall into eternal slumber in confusion. And now that all the other obstructions are dead, I have an obligation to tell you and that person the principles behind all this and what it means before the ritual moves on to the next step.”

"...You are not Remilia Scarlett."

"I'm."

"Then the person who appeared here before wasn't you."

“That is indeed true.” Remilia nodded slightly. “The one who appeared here before was the compiler of this ritual. And the name of this ritual is ‘Cradle of the Demon King’. The principle is very simple. Because I once killed all my kind in my world except for myself and my sisters, this ritual was tailor-made for me based on my past deeds. It is called the Revelation Enhancement Ritual.”

She looked at the now-dimmed dome; the part that had once been the inner wall of the fortress had long since vanished, replaced by an endless expanse of darkness. In battle after battle, all the brick and stone structures here had been destroyed, leaving not even quark matter. All that remained was the still River Styx beneath the sea of ​​blood, and the vast, ghostly sky above the dome.

"This should actually be the interior of the only remaining vampire lord, the last and strongest, Alucard. It used its own power to combine with the surrounding environment to weave an otherworld. And this otherworld can be considered an independent world with only vampires."

"And that spellcaster reinforced my concept of 'killing all vampires, leaving only one other than myself.' In other words, what I once accomplished has been replicated here. Because of the unique nature of your world, once the ritual was initiated, I gained the power of 'unilateral restraint over vampires' within this other world. When I have slaughtered all the vampires in the world, leaving only one other than myself, all the power originating from vampires, no matter how wondrous or bizarre, will be ineffective against me. They will only become my sustenance, making me even stronger."

Evangeline's eyes narrowed slightly, then a faint smile appeared on her lips.

"Temporary activation of the divine essence... So this kind of thing is possible? No wonder you used the word 'power'... So you're the last one besides me, which is why you're patient enough to explain it to me."

“That’s part of the reason. But as I’ve already said, you’re not the last one. I can now see that Arcado is in an uncertain quantum state. Until its River of Death is exhausted and all the vampires, including you, are dead, it won’t be able to observe itself. So it’s my last obstacle, because you’re going to die soon, and what I’m saying is actually for him.”

Remilia said calmly, “This is part of the ritual, a segment of the ‘Cradle of the Demon King.’ After it appears, the concept of ‘one-sided restraint against vampires’ within me will become invalid. I will be on the same level as it, sharing the competition of the ritual. When the battle between me and it is decided, the one who survives can inherit all the power here, activate the essence, and become the Lord of Avenger, born from the concept of vampires.”

Her fingers lightly brushed across a thin stream of blood.

"When revenge is the strongest, the outcome is uncertain in terms of concept. Whoever remains will inherit the hatred of the vampires for the Lord of War, which is absorbed through the ritual... You started with similar ideas, didn't you? On the surface, you claimed to hate outsiders, but in reality, the object of your hatred was only the Lord of War who actually took action. Even if the caster hadn't set up this ritual, you would still have lost to her in the end. Because you don't truly hate her; you only want her to inherit your legacy and gain enough power to step onto the chessboard to avenge you."

The air was instantly filled with silence.

Silence means admission.

Evangeline closed her eyes, then slowly opened them, her gaze towards Remilia now filled with complex emotions.

She sighed softly.

"Why tell? If you continue to keep this secret, everything that will happen afterward will become very simple. Although 'we' are all dead, Alucard will not give up his desire for revenge. You will face the real Alucard next, a Alucard that will spare no effort and stop at nothing."

"You will witness the manifestation of death."

“And that’s exactly what I’ve been hoping for.” Remilia’s lips curled into a smile, the curve widening. “I’m not Alice, not the one who cast this ritual. If it were her, she would have kept it a secret until the very end, because that’s the kind of person who can’t tolerate any variables. No… I’m not like her. What I want, I’ll take myself instead of waiting for someone else’s charity. Even though it might seem stupid to her, even like it’s holding her back. But that’s just who I am, hopelessly so.”

She looked at Evangeline, her split lips gradually turning into a ferocious smile.

"Anyway, whoever survives will eventually have to go after the Lord of War. In that case, her plans won't change much, so it's not entirely unfair to her. On that basis, I'd rather have a truly exhilarating bloody battle with a real enemy."

“…You’re such a strange fellow.” Evangeline looked at the creature in front of her, who resembled a young girl, and sighed with a hint of helplessness.

"Then, I hope you can fulfill your wish."

The next moment, the last vampire before Remilia crumbled like melting ice. Its body and power completely disintegrated, reconstructed, and purified, transforming into blood that merged into the sea of ​​blood.

When the last vampire in this dead river died, the entire chaotic, artificial otherworld trembled violently.

The manifestation of death is about to be born from the uncertain void.

And the apocryphal text, Apocalypse: Night Symbol: Cradle of the Demon King, has finally entered its final stage of compilation.

Section 28. The Bird of Hermes is my name.

—'My name is Hermes'

—'To devour one's own wings, so as to control one's own heart'

Above the still, black River Styx, a sea of ​​blood surges with raging waves and turbulent tides.

In the deep red river of blood, the last king was resurrected from the dead.

First the fingers, then the limbs.

From the river of blood stretched out billions of pale arms, as densely packed as the segments of a worm. On the sides of each arm were crimson eyes ten times larger than the arm itself, each one closed.

—Then the body, and then the neck.

The tributaries within the sea of ​​blood intertwine and overlap, extending into numerous reconstructed skeletons and flesh. Each segment of the skeleton branches out, from which extend organs and polyps that might not even appear in a nightmare. Some of these organs are functional, some are not; some hinder the continuation of the body, while others, together with other structures, form local ecological cycles.

Some of them rotted rapidly, while others continued to grow healthily. From the decaying remains, new flesh and bone sprouted. From the healthy structures, even more limbs and organs multiplied. Some spewed venom like intestines, some waved like flags, some extended feather-like connective tissue, and some, like ravenous maws, gnawed at everything around them with dozens of overlapping, sharp teeth.

—In the end, Su Sheng's head emerged from the sea of ​​blood.

Then, all the eyes opened at the same instant. But there was no flesh or blood within the closed upper and lower eyelids. Only emptiness, a pure black like the void. From this vortex of pure black, crimson and pale buds stretched out like threads, intertwining and colliding, constructing human figures like tangled noodles or balls of yarn. And in every figure, the eyes remained tightly closed.

There is an image of a young man, with his eyes closed, reciting poems without rhyme or words.

There was an image resembling an old man, with his eyes closed, reading a newspaper formed from connective tissue.

There was a figure resembling a young child, with eyes closed, curiously looking around.

There is a figure that looks like a woman, with her eyes closed, dressed in bones and blood.

There are hundreds of millions of arms and hundreds of millions of shapes. There are men and women, old and young. Some talk to each other, chatting idly in unknown languages. Some are in groups, arguing endlessly over trivial matters. Some hold strange weapons, throwing flames or bolts of lightning at other figures around them, while others stare at each other with strange expressions, intertwining and making sounds of mating.

They are one country, one race, one ecosystem, and one closed world.

They converge, connect, piece together, and fit together. They constitute the frontalis, temporalis, orbicularis oculi, corrugator supercilii, nasolabial, levator labii superioris, levator nasalis, orbicularis oris, levator labii inferioris, maxilla, depressor supercilii, auricular muscles, risorius, corrugator supercilii, neck and shoulder muscles, depressor labii inferioris, and depressor anguli oris.

—They formed a face, a huge, intricate, and detailed face, like a young man, with an air of wickedness and unbridled arrogance.

Then, within the youth's eye sockets, millions of eyes opened simultaneously.

Within the lips of a young man, millions of voices converge.

“I’ve kept you waiting, Remilia Scarlet.” Countless streams of blood flowed from the youth’s body, emanating a cacophony of sounds from the rotting flesh and useless organs. Solemn, heavy, ethereal, piercing—countless distinct elements blended into one, forming tangible sound waves that radiated outwards in concentric circles.

The sound surged in like a tidal wave, and the mere sight of it causing the air to scorch and boil. And at the end of the sound and the gaze, stood the young girl who had been waiting for so long.

“Not long at all, Alucard, the last vampire lord of this world.” Remilia held the nameless longsword horizontally, forming an angled cross with the crimson spear.

“Then…” Crimson blood energy coalesced and then dispersed, manifesting bizarre, dragon-like, serpentine, and demonic forms behind the girl. Then, she raised her gun and knife. “Let our battle officially begin.”

The next moment, the crimson meteor crashed into the red and white behemoth.

'Boom—Boom—Boom—Boom—'

An explosion, a deafening roar, erupted from the very structure of flesh and blood, like the shattering of a celestial body. Boundless crimson energy surged forth violently, pulverizing flesh and blood, destroying bones and tendons, only to heal anew under an even more powerful regenerative force. The countless youthful figures that adorned the surface of the colossal form dissolved and melted away like wax figures, only to be reborn anew within the form itself.

Amidst the crimson and pale flesh, the girl opened her eyes.

Amidst the crimson and pale flesh, countless eyes appeared and gazed upon the fleshy walls.

The energy reaction, equivalent to the explosion of trillions of nuclear bombs and comparable to the collapse of a giant star's core, was released instantly. Then, under the pure light that appeared beside the girl, it all came to a standstill. It was as if a white, humanoid phantom flashed behind the girl and then time stopped flowing.

She thus transcended them, like a child skipping rope, crossing the billions of gazes that theoretically had no blind spots in the stillness of time, and the immense magical energy released like a newborn star.

As she departed from the frozen time, the billions of eyes on the wall of flesh were simultaneously shattered by pure white fist imprints.

The outer walls of flesh and blood were thus shattered. Boundless light burst forth with destruction, crushing the enormous form from the inside into nothingness, leaving not even ashes. Yet, countless more youths, the elderly, and children emerged from the void, carrying immense energy as they plummeted like a storm of stars.

The boundaries of the world thus became ambiguous, and the boiling energy evaporated the orderly structure of heaven and earth, turning it into a boiling primordial sea. Rules and logic thus became chaotic and incomprehensible, and infinite chaos, which could only appear at the level of theoretical probability, thus gradually arose.

An island appeared in the sky, upon which fish swam. The shadows of the fish held up ancient goblets filled with molten iron, drinking with the moon. The moonlight was moved to tears, and its falling tears formed a hell of swords.

—The girl and the young man fought amidst tears; the girl severed the young man's neck with her long sword, and the young man's fist smashed the girl's head—