The night was heavy with mist and dread. The forest behind Shin burned faintly in the distance, the remnants of his battle with the Tikbalang fading into silence. His body ached, his breath ragged, but there was no time to rest. The aura he sensed from the castle ahead was suffocating—dark, ancient, and filled with malice.
He sprinted through the fog, guided by the pulsing energy that emanated from the fortress like a heartbeat. The closer he got, the colder the air became, until his breath turned to frost.
When he reached the castle gates, the sight before him made his stomach twist. Ice shards littered the ground, glimmering faintly under the moonlight. The walls were scarred with deep gashes, and the air reeked of blood and magic. It was clear—a massive battle had taken place here.
Shin's eyes hardened. "They were here..."
Without hesitation, he charged forward, his flaming sword igniting once more. With a single swing, he shattered the wooden gate, the splinters scattering across the courtyard. The echo of the impact rolled through the castle like thunder.
Inside, the corridors were dark and cold. The faint light of the moon filtered through broken windows, illuminating streaks of crimson smeared across the stone floor. Blood—fresh and thick.
Shin's heart pounded faster. He could feel it—the faint traces of his companions' energy, fading but still present.
He ran.
Every step echoed through the empty halls, his boots splashing through puddles of blood. The deeper he went, the stronger the stench of death became. The castle seemed alive, whispering in the dark, mocking his desperation.
Finally, he reached a massive set of double doors. The faint sound of movement came from beyond them—slow, deliberate, and cruel.
Shin gritted his teeth and kicked the doors open.
The sight that greeted him froze his blood.
The room was vast, a ballroom hall once adorned with chandeliers and marble pillars, now drenched in ruin. The floor was cracked, the walls scorched, and the air thick with the metallic scent of blood.
At the center of the carnage lay his friends.
Sam was sprawled across the floor, unconscious but uninjured, her staff shattered beside her. Isolde lay nearby, motionless, a pool of blood spreading beneath her. Her revolvers were broken, her body riddled with wounds. Han was slumped against a pillar, his face pale, his body limp.
And before him stood two figures.
Alucard, tall and regal, his crimson eyes glowing with hunger, held Han by the neck, his fangs bared in a cruel smile. Beside him, Lucius, the werewolf, crouched low, his claws dripping with blood as he gnawed on something—Han's severed left arm.
Shin's breath caught in his throat. His vision blurred with rage.
"Han..." he whispered, his voice trembling.
Alucard turned slowly, his expression calm, almost amused. "Ah... so the last one arrives." His voice was smooth, cold, and filled with arrogance. "You're late, little flame."
Lucius growled, blood staining his fangs. "He smells strong... let me have him."
Alucard smirked. "Patience, my friend. You've already eaten enough."
Shin's hands trembled as he drew his sword, the flames bursting to life once more. The fire reflected in his eyes, burning with fury and grief.
"You'll pay for this," he said, his voice low and deadly.
Alucard tilted his head, his smile widening. "Oh, I intend to make you try."
The vampire dropped Han's limp body to the floor with a dull thud. The sound echoed through the hall like a death knell.
Lucius rose to his full height, his claws scraping against the marble. "Let's see if your fire can burn through the night."
Shin's aura flared, the flames around him roaring to life. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he took his stance.
"Then come," he growled. "I'll burn this castle to ashes."
The moonlight poured through the shattered windows, casting long shadows across the bloodstained floor. The air trembled as the three forces of power—fire, blood, and beast—prepared to collide.
And as the first spark ignited, the castle of the damned erupted once more into chaos.
Lucius, having consumed Han's left arm, began to change. His body convulsed violently, bones cracking and muscles swelling beneath his fur. The once-skinny werewolf from the camp transformed into a monstrous figure—towering, broad-shouldered, and rippling with power. His claws elongated, his fangs gleamed, and his eyes burned with a feral hunger.
Alucard watched with satisfaction, his crimson gaze glinting. "Good... now, Lucius. Show him despair."
With a sharp nod, Lucius lunged forward.
He moved with terrifying speed, faster than Shin could track. Each strike came like a storm—claws slashing, teeth snapping, the air itself trembling with every blow. Shin parried desperately, sparks flying as his flaming sword met claw and fang.
But exhaustion was catching up to him. His body screamed in protest, his wounds from the Tikbalang fight still fresh.
Before he could recover from Lucius's relentless assault, Alucard joined in. The vampire blurred forward, his blade flashing crimson under the moonlight. Together, they attacked in perfect rhythm—Lucius striking from the front, Alucard from the side, their movements precise and merciless.
They were toying with him.
Shin gritted his teeth, blocking another strike, his arms trembling from the impact. They're trying to wear me down... just like they did to the others.
His eyes darted toward his fallen friends—Isolde and Han, both bleeding heavily, and Sam, unconscious but still breathing. His chest tightened. I can't let them die... I have to end this now.
But both enemies before him were formidable—monsters born of darkness and blood.
Alucard stepped back slightly, his expression calm and composed. He raised his sword, its edge gleaming with a faint red aura. "It's time to finish this," he said coldly. "My master awaits us in the castle shrine."
Then he moved.
Alucard thrust forward in a blur of motion, his strikes coming faster and faster. Each thrust was sharper, heavier, more precise than the last. Shin barely managed to deflect the first few, but the vampire's speed was increasing—unnaturally so.
Shin's mind raced, his focus slipping. He's getting faster... I can't—
He didn't notice Lucius behind him until it was too late.
The werewolf's claws tore through the air, slashing across Shin's back three times in rapid succession. Blood sprayed across the marble floor as Shin cried out in pain, stumbling forward.
Before he could recover, Alucard's blade pierced through his guard.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four.
Five.
Each thrust drove deeper into his torso, the sound of steel meeting flesh echoing through the hall.
Shin gasped, blood spilling from his lips. His vision blurred, his knees buckling beneath him.
Alucard leaned close, his voice a whisper of cruel delight. "You fought well, little flame... but even fire dies in the dark."
Shin's sword slipped from his grasp, clattering against the blood-soaked floor. The flames around him flickered weakly, struggling to stay alive.
As his eyes began to close, his cloak started to glow—first faintly, then violently—with a swirling black and purple aura. The air around him distorted, the ground trembling beneath his body.
Alucard's eyes narrowed. He stepped back cautiously, sensing something unnatural. "What is this...?"
Lucius, driven by instinct and rage, ignored the warning. He snarled and charged forward like a rabid beast, claws raised high.
"Lucius, stop!" Alucard shouted, but it was too late.
Before the werewolf could strike, the cloak came alive, its fabric twisting and expanding, enveloping Shin completely. The aura flared brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Lucius froze mid-charge, confusion flashing in his eyes—then a fist emerged from the swirling darkness.
With a single, devastating swing, it struck Lucius square in the chest.
The impact sent the massive werewolf hurtling across the ballroom, crashing through a marble pillar and collapsing in a heap. The floor cracked beneath him, his body twitching once before falling still.
Alucard's eyes widened in shock. The aura around Shin pulsed again, darker and heavier, radiating power unlike anything he had ever felt.
He took a cautious step back, his voice low but edged with unease. "Who... are you?"
The cloak's shadowed form stood tall, silent, the black and purple energy swirling violently around it. The air grew colder, the light dimmer, as if the castle itself was holding its breath.
Then, the figure moved.
Shin's body was no longer his own—he was unconscious, completely overtaken by the cloak's will. His face was gone, hidden beneath the darkness. Only the black cloak remained, its folds rippling like smoke, and from within the hood, two glowing red eyes burned with unholy intensity.
The figure raised its right hand, and Shin's dual katanas vanished into thin air. In their place, a single weapon materialized—a dagger, dark and metallic, its surface etched with sharp, angular patterns that shimmered faintly with violet light.
He gripped it in a reverse hold, the blade pointing downward. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his left hand and cut across his own palm.
A stream of golden liquid flowed from the wound, coating the dagger's edge. The weapon pulsed, absorbing the light, its dark metal now glowing faintly gold and purple.
Alucard's composure shattered. His eyes widened in disbelief, his voice trembling as he stepped back. "That blood... it's not ordinary blood."
Before he could utter another word, the cloaked figure vanished from sight.
In the blink of an eye, Shin—or whatever controlled him—was already behind Alucard.
The vampire's eyes widened in shock. "Wha—"
The dagger plunged straight through his heart.
A burst of golden and violet energy erupted from the impact, shaking the entire ballroom. Alucard gasped, his crimson eyes flickering with disbelief as the power coursed through him, burning from the inside out.
Both of them collapsed to the floor, the dagger still buried deep in Alucard's chest. The black and purple aura began to fade, the cloak loosening its grip.
The shadowed form trembled, then slowly unraveled, the dark energy dispersing into the air like smoke.
The cloak released its hold on Shin, revealing his battered body beneath. His breathing was shallow, his wounds severe, but his eyes—though half-open—were his own once more. His blood, once golden, turned red again, flowing naturally from his wounds as the unnatural power left his body.
Alucard was panting, his strength fading. As Shin's dagger slipped from his hand and clattered onto the floor, the sharp sound echoed through the hall—awakening Sam.
Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to horror as she saw the devastation around her. Forcing herself up despite the pain, she limped toward her fallen comrades.
She knelt beside Isolde and Han, her hands trembling as she pressed them over their wounds. Frost magic shimmered from her palms, sealing their injuries with a thin layer of ice. Their breathing steadied, faint but alive.
Without hesitation, she rushed toward Shin, her legs weak but determined. She dropped to her knees beside him, gently lifting his head onto her lap.
"Shin... please, stay with me," she whispered, her voice breaking. She began to cast a frost spell, the cold light enveloping his wounds in a desperate attempt to close them.
Behind her, Alucard stirred, his voice weak but clear.
"Girl..." he rasped, blood dripping from his lips. "Listen... to me."
Sam turned, startled, but his tone was not one of malice—it was weary, almost regretful.
"All three of us... Marcus, Lucius, and I... we were only foot soldiers," he said, his voice trembling. "Our master... is Ernesto."
Sam's eyes widened. "Ernesto?"
Alucard coughed, his body trembling as he continued. "You should know... the truth about Maria."
His gaze drifted upward, his voice fading into a distant echo as he slipped into a flashback.
"Maria was never a goddess," he said softly. "She was a beautiful woman... married to a farmer. Lucius, Marcus, and I—we were just soldiers. Our garrison commander was Ernesto. One day, he saw Maria walking through the village... and decided he wanted her for himself."
His tone darkened, filled with bitterness. "But she was married. So Ernesto devised a plan. He framed her husband for arson. On the night of fire, he planted evidence that made him look guilty. The punishment for arson... was hanging."
Sam's breath caught in her throat.
"When Maria saw her husband's body hanging in the square," Alucard continued, his voice breaking, "she took her own life and hanged herself beside him. Before she died... she cursed us all—everyone in the garrison. That curse turned us into what you see now."
He coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth. "You have to hurry... to your friend. The reason she was taken... is because she resembles the Maria Ernesto once knew. He's trying to resurrect her... using your friend's body."
Sam's eyes widened in horror. "No..."
Alucard's voice grew faint, his crimson eyes dimming. "Go... while there's still time..."
His body went still, the last trace of life leaving him.
Sam looked down at Shin, her tears falling onto his face as she whispered, "Hold on, Shin... we're not done yet."
The frost around her hands glowed brighter, sealing his wounds as the moonlight poured through the shattered windows—cold, silent, and heavy with the weight of what was yet to come.
The night raged on, and the blood moon hung high above the cursed castle. The battle was far from over.