"Mr. Luke! Do you need our help?"
Penwood shouted from his chair toward the battle.
He had long since prepared himself to die. At this point, there didn't seem to be anything worth fearing anymore.
It was as if a coward could walk into the most dangerous place for some noble belief. Whether he would be scared to death by the tragedy was another matter, but fear and sacrifice were never mutually exclusive.
"Aim your guns this way! If I retreat, open fire immediately!"
Luke casually cleaved through the head of a Silence and roared loudly.
For the first time in a long while, Luke felt exhausted. The mental energy consumed by fighting the Silence was immense.
They had been fighting for quite some time, and he now had a fair understanding of the Silence's power.
The Silence's bodies were frail, especially compared to their attacks.
The lightning they casually unleashed only looked like lightning; the real threat was a bizarre disintegrating force.
Anything hit by a Silence would be broken down into fine dust, as if cut by a water jet.
If not for Luke's exceptional defense, he would have died the first time he took a hit.
Even though he withstood it, cracks had appeared on his body. right now, his skin looked like cracked porcelain.
Blood was slowly seeping from the fissures.
But that wasn't the deadliest part. The deadliest part was that the moment these monsters left his line of sight, he would instantly lose his combat awareness.
A person who has forgotten the very existence of the Silence cannot possibly remain vigilant.
That momentary trance was the most dangerous factor.
"Pick up your weapons! Prepare to fire!"
Penwood issued the order directly, drawing his own weapon with one hand while clutching the detonator—which had been on the table—in the other.
Penwood didn't know what the enemies outside were, but right now, trusting Luke was enough.
He knew his own abilities were mediocre, so he trusted the judgment of those more capable.
He could frankly say, "I may be incompetent, but I am not despicable," so he would never doubt his partner!
Penwood was a noble man, and he was certainly not incompetent.
It was just that compared to the professionals, his abilities were somewhat lacking.
Penwood didn't ask if Luke needed him to hold fire to avoid hitting him, just as Luke didn't tell him to retreat.
In a short time, these two men had come to understand each other fully, sharing the tacit understanding of friends.
While Luke was locked in continuous battle with the Silence, the fight between Alucard and Anderson had also officially begun!
Anderson's strength needed no elaboration, and Alucard's power was equally astonishing.
Although he was still a monster that could be killed, achieving that goal was incredibly difficult.
As long as he drank blood, he remained the Vampire King with countless lives. As long as a single soul remained in the River of Blood, he would not die.
Killing his main body would only put Alucard's consciousness to sleep; the River of Blood would not vanish with his death.
Instead, a behemoth with millions of consciousnesses would begin fighting for control of the body, transforming into an even more terrifying, insane monster.
However, if it truly came to that, the aggregation of the River of Blood would lose any claim to true power and become unworthy of concern.
Holy fire blazed around Father Anderson as he carved a path through the River of Blood.
Sparks of holy fire burned within the river as his bayonets flew, and the wails of the pierced souls sounded like curses.
Even as their souls were purified by the holy fire and returned to their original forms...
After enjoying a twisted form of immortality within Alucard's body, these souls had become warped.
Even regaining some consciousness, they cursed Anderson, their savior, with vile words.
Anderson showed no reaction. His duty was to eliminate monsters. Although he occasionally organized prayers and masses, aside from the children he adopted, he never listened to the troubles of other believers.
When facing the outside world, he was merely an executioner. Killing enemies was the only truth!
The constantly flickering light on Anderson made him shine like a giant lightbulb in the River of Blood. Although he could easily defeat the souls, he still had to face Alucard's own attacks.
Though Alucard sat high upon his throne awaiting the challenger, adjusting the difficulty of the "game" had always been the prerogative of the "Demon King."
He swung his longsword casually toward Anderson, sending arcs of bloody light along the blade's path, inflicting significant wounds on the priest.
Blood splashed, yet Alucard's expression remained solemn.
Anderson was the enemy he admired most. It wasn't about strength—after seeing the Sorcerer Supreme and Bul-Kathos, he knew that if he wanted to die, finding those two would suffice.
But given the choice, he preferred to die at the hands of Father Anderson. Of course, Walter would do too.
Or, failing that, Matthew or Rumlow.
In these people, Alucard saw the strength of the human will itself.
The Vampire King's power did not fall completely to a disadvantage against the holy fire of Imperius. The ability of undeath wasn't exactly countered by Valor.
Elemental counters always had to be discussed on the basis of equal "weight," and right now, the two were not equal.
The quantity of Alucard's River of Blood far exceeded the holy fire Anderson possessed.
The priest was not, after all, a second angel. He had possessed this power for too short a time and hadn't accumulated enough of it.
Although holy fire would continuously generate as long as his courage didn't falter, expecting an explosive burst was a pipe dream.
Both sides could inflict significant damage whenever they landed a hit, but Anderson also had to deal with the endless souls of the River of Blood.
Even in such an unfavorable situation, Anderson's figure continued to advance steadfastly.
The River of Blood acted as an army protecting Alucard, while Anderson, like Beowulf swimming alone across the ocean, pressed on toward his goal.
A flawless saint always lacks a certain human touch compared to unbridled heroes, and right now, Anderson was marching toward sainthood.
He threw himself entirely into Valor, gradually converting all other emotions into fuel for his courage.
He was already a hero now. Whether he died before burning everything out or succeeded, he was a hero.
"I think I should take over."
Laughing maniacally, Maxwell walked past his fellow disciples, holding the Holy Nail, and stepped fearlessly into the River of Blood.
In the blink of an eye, Maxwell's body was submerged by the crimson tide.
This man had used the Last Battalion, treating this war as a ladder to gain power.
Although his power crumbled with the end of the war, he had undoubtedly lived a fulfilling life.
Having a goal naturally makes life fulfilling, and he had strived for his goal all along.
But now, he wanted to try a different way of living—for instance, sacrificing himself for his teacher.
Perhaps Maxwell was the person in this world who understood Father Anderson best. Active within the circles of power, he could clearly feel Anderson's disappointment in him.
He could also understand Anderson's persistence.
Having lost his original goal, he planned to experience what it felt like to be a saint, starting with self-sacrifice right now!
Heinkel, who had been guarding Maxwell, drew her pistols and began firing rapidly, reloading with sleight of hand as her arms crossed.
Even with pistols, she unleashed firepower comparable to a submachine gun.
Yumie Takagi drew the katana at her side, leaning her body low as she dashed forward rapidly.
Both gave up on stopping Maxwell because the true terror of Alucard was only now revealing itself.
Anderson had the power to kill Alucard, but he couldn't slaughter the entire River of Blood single-handedly.
Heinkel hadn't yet undergone modification with Angel Dust; though she surpassed human limits, she was far from truly powerful.
The same applied to Yumie, but her exquisite swordsmanship gave her formidable penetrating power.
The group known as "samurai" was somewhat bizarre, especially those skilled in Iaido; their stances often appeared strange.
It seemed that the closer their bodies were to the ground, the more terrifying the slash they could deliver.
So, if you ever see a samurai crawling toward you on the ground, don't hesitate—just run.
No one knows exactly how strong a samurai charging on all fours is, but one thing is certain: that guy is definitely not normal.
Just how terrifying an Iaido strike released by a samurai intimately embracing the ground can be is worth exploring.
From Yumie's posture, it was clear she was a high-level samurai. Her chest nearly scraping the ground and the flashes of her blade carved a path through the River of Blood toward Maxwell.
The souls in the river, be they soldiers or civilians, were killed instantly.
The forces of the Church began their attack, and Father Anderson entered a near-frenzied combat state.
"Alucard! I have come to kill you!"
Anderson roared as he broke through the first barrier of the River of Blood, shouting at Alucard from a distance.
His body was covered in blood and wounds inflicted by Alucard.
But he didn't care. Even the blood flowing from him had turned a semi-golden hue.
Perhaps Imperius would like this priest very much, for he was currently transforming into the kind of angel commonly seen in the High Heavens.
He was also the first person to become a subordinate of Imperius.
Most ordinary angels in the High Heavens had wings radiating azure light; they were angels influenced by Tyrael.
Nominally, the commander of the High Heavens' armed forces had always been the Archangel of Justice.
Imperius, as the vanguard, always acted alone.
Whether clearing a path or covering a retreat on the battlefields of the Eternal Conflict, he always did it by himself.
Valor does not need the support of a group, because group courage can sometimes turn into blindness.
Thus, Valor always acts alone.
And now, Anderson was about to become the first subordinate of the Archangel of Valor.
Valor never becomes conspicuous due to the opinions of the group, nor does it become noble because of the group's strength.
Valor never needs the help of others to exist.
Only one who is alone can truly understand what Valor is!
"Then come! I have waited for this day for a long time. Be it you or Walter! Stand before me!"
As Alucard spoke, his thick black hair danced like a spider spreading its spiny legs.
An emotion called satisfaction appeared on his face, but it was replaced by gloom in an instant.
He wanted to die—to die at the hands of a true human.
But he still worried; he still retained a shred of humanity.
The millions of souls in the River of Blood were under his jurisdiction, and those lives had branded their traces onto Alucard.
Whether his consciousness was still the original one or not, he couldn't erase the other existences within the River of Blood.
A vampire is the integration of multiple lives; this is undeniable!
"Die!"
Maxwell's voice finally rang out as the souls around him were swept away!
The Holy Relic had pierced his heart, and rings of thorns began spreading outward with his heart as the origin.
Helena's Nail transformed Maxwell into a holy monster.
The thorns didn't just form a crown; they wrapped around everything about him.
As an eerie radiance began to emanate, Maxwell's voice finally vanished.
At this moment, his mind was perfectly clear—clearer than it had ever been.
But his body became a prison, locking his soul within the shell like an Iron Maiden.
His soul suffered heart-wrenching pain every moment, but now he had time to reflect on his past.
Faith, right and wrong, good and evil, and his wish to become a superior being.
Helena's Nail originated from when Saint Helena was nailed to the cross, her faith in the "Lord" questioned.
Because of the Lord's protection, she survived the torture.
Only after the skeptics finally believed in the "Lord" was this nun declared a saint.
And the nail that harmed her became a precious Holy Relic.
This Holy Nail represented torture and suffering, and Maxwell was experiencing that pain.
"Only a human can kill a monster! Anderson, make my blood boil!
Pierce my heart with your hand and send me to eternal sleep!
Shatter my existence with your faith, and then tell me God loves the world!"
Alucard raised his sword high and roared.
He dismissed the monster Maxwell had become with disdain.
When facing a monster, he would absolutely never lose!
Monsters couldn't kill him, because he was the most terrifying kind of monster.
Only a true human could do it. No other existence in this world believed in humanity more than he did.
Alucard took a deep look at the slumbering Walter, his gaze profound and tinged with regret.
Walter had not hesitated to become a traitor and join the Last Battalion, but now it seemed he likely wouldn't get the chance to achieve his life's goal.
The identity of a traitor meant Alucard no longer held respect for Walter; the old man who said "aging is the romance of the English" was dead.
The one now was just a stranger overlapping with the figure in his memories.
Even with the memories of fighting together, the current Walter was no longer his partner.
Alucard was disappointed in Walter.
If it were the aged Walter, Alucard might have been willing to die by those weakened wires, but things were different now.
He would fight with everything he had, especially in this battle right now!
The current Anderson was far stronger than Van Helsing, who had killed him years ago.
It must be known that Van Helsing was an incarnation of the Angel Gabriel, and Gabriel was currently fighting Mephisto's clone for control of Walter's body!
But even if Gabriel became human again, he couldn't possibly be stronger than the current Anderson.
"Alucard!"
Anderson was now breathing out scorching heat; holy fire completely enveloped his body, even filling his invisible internal organs.
Facing the aura of a monster and discarding fear—that is definitely Valor.
But Valor is never separate from the emotion of fear.
Only after conquering fear and discarding cowardice does Valor display its power.
Anderson's internal organs were wrapped in holy fire, his blood filled with scorching heat. A pair of golden wings clearly unfurled behind him, instantly evaporating the surrounding River of Blood!
An existence possessing only Valor never appears capable of rational thought. Anderson had no Justice to restrain him, nor Hope to guide him.
Thinking breeds more fear, while hot-blooded Valor appears even more noble after thinking!
At this moment, Anderson had only one thought: charge forward and utterly annihilate Alucard!
"Roar~"
The monster Maxwell had become also launched a charge toward Alucard, but in its movements, it attacked Anderson indiscriminately.
Overwhelming thorns began to spread, forming a giant cage that enveloped everything nearby.
However, it carefully avoided Walter, who was not far away.
The Church's true trump card, an existence comparable to a descended angel, still commanded fear from the monster.
There was an angel's aura over there. This monster feared its master, so it retreated from Gabriel's presence.
But facing Anderson, this monster didn't seem to acknowledge Anderson's faith.
Or perhaps the monster's thorny brain couldn't judge the situation at all.
This thing was born a bit too early, back before Imperius arrived in this world.
A monster crowned with a holy title remains a monster; it was merely controlled by the "Holy" side.
A monster is a monster, regardless of where it stands.
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