"That presence…" Dracula muttered, his gaze narrowing as the air trembled. "I know it from somewhere."
Varin's grin widened, though his eyes flickered with barely restrained fury. "Isn't it obvious? It's the man who sealed you in that coffin."
The rainbow light ripped through the Earth's atmosphere, streaking across the sky before crashing into the ground with a deafening roar. A shockwave exploded outward, tearing through the terrain and pushing even Dracula and Varin back.
Dracula straightened, his fist clenching tightly as an old hatred welled within him. Val Hellsing…
As the brilliant light began to fade, silence fell over the battlefield—nothing stood where it had struck.
Dracula's eyes darted around. "Where did—"
Before he could finish, a soft click echoed behind him.
Val Hellsing stood at his back, his white musket gleaming with golden engravings. Without a word, he pulled the trigger.
A massive golden beam erupted from the barrel, swallowing everything in its path. Dracula barely turned before the light reached him—
—but Varin appeared in front of him, one arm raised. The beam collided with his palm, forcing the ground beneath them to crater. Varin's grin sharpened as he redirected the blast upward, sending it spiraling into the clouds where it burst like a second sun.
"Forgive the intrusion," Varin said coolly, lowering his hand. "My master isn't in any condition to fight. But I'm more than willing to take his place."
Val's aura was calm yet crushing, his presence alone bending the air around him. "Varin—the Right Horn of Dracula. His first creation."
Varin's grin returned, feral and eager. "Good. No need for small talk."
He stepped forward, mana surging violently through the air. "Let's get to killing."
In an instant, both men vanished—Varin's claws meeting Val's blade mid-swing, their collision unleashing a blinding burst of light that tore through the clouds above.
In the distance, Mr. Oliver walked steadily with Akira in his arms. He finally came to a stop, his gaze shifting toward the raging battle.
"This situation is unfavorable for Val…" he thought. "He can't go all out without risking the planet. He's forced to take every one of that creature's blows while holding back his own. My interference would only get in the way."
With that, he turned and continued walking.
Farther ahead, the rest of the squad lay sprawled on the ground as Mr. Simon desperately tended to their wounds.
"Hurry up!" Simon shouted, his voice frantic. "Trixie's condition is getting worse, and something in their systems is resisting my healing. We need to get them back to the academy!"
Mr. Oliver gently laid Akira beside the others and began tracing sigils into the dirt, forming a glowing magic circle.
"For a teleportation spell like this," he explained, "there must be an active circle between both locations."
He pressed his palms together, chanting softly in Latin. The sigils flared with light before their bodies began to flicker and distort.
"I wish you luck," he murmured as they vanished in a pulse of blue light.
Back at the battlefield, Val and Varin's clash continued—each blow heavier than the last. Sparks and shockwaves tore through the air with every impact.
"I don't need to fight this guy," Val muttered under his breath. "I just need to kill Dracula."
He pivoted sharply, hurling his sword toward Dracula. Mid-flight, the blade twisted and expanded, morphing into a golden lance that streaked across the air with devastating force.
At the last instant, Varin intercepted it—his hand snapping forward to catch the weapon before it could impale his master.
"Don't you know it's rude to take your eyes off your opponent?" Varin taunted, flinging the lance back at blinding speed.
The weapon froze midair, reshaping into a sword as Val caught it effortlessly.
"So, your own weapon can't harm you," Varin mused. "Killing you is out of the question, then."
He lunged. Val swung his blade in defense, but Varin twisted his neck unnaturally, evading the slash before driving a crushing punch into Val's chest—sending him skidding backward.
Cracking his neck back into place, Varin smirked. "Oh my, it managed to morph into a shield in time. You're lucky."
Val gritted his teeth. Damn it… he landed a hit before the shield's effect activated. I can't keep this up under these conditions.
The shield shifted again, morphing into a musket that began firing rapidly. Golden rounds rained through the battlefield, but Varin danced between them effortlessly. Then, noticing a larger shot forming, his eyes flicked toward Dracula and Lilith.
"Well played," he muttered, catching the blast in his palm. The beam crackled violently as he fought to contain it. Grinning, he compressed it down to a single glowing ember and flicked it into the sky.
BOOM!
The explosion split the clouds, the shockwave rattling the earth.
"Pathetic," Varin scoffed, watching the smoke dissipate. "That wasn't your true power."
A faint golden glow caught his eye—Val's sword radiating light so intense it distorted the air.
"Now you're getting interesting!" Varin shouted, driving his fingers into his own back, preparing for release.
Val unleashed the attack—but before it could connect, Lilith appeared, summoning a massive blood scythe. With one swing, she split the blast into two halves that carved across the horizon.
"Hey!" Varin yelled. "What's wrong with you? That was meant for me!"
"It's ready," Lilith replied coolly.
Varin glanced down—and froze. Beneath him, an intricate magic circle pulsed with crimson light.
A single, resonant clap echoed.
Varin and Val's eyes widened. Val dashed forward, but an invisible barrier slammed him back.
"What's wrong, Dracula? Do you fear I'll finish you this time?!" Val roared.
Dracula's form flickered, his body glitching as he stepped toward the barrier. "I crave what you fear," he said coldly—before he, Lilith, and Varin vanished.
Val's fist trembled. "Damn it!" he snarled, punching the ground, the earth cracking beneath his hand.