In the Bronx, within the Nosferatu catacombs.
"Lord Brutus, we've been attacked!"
"Where's Zoya?"
"The commander is missing, sir. We can't find her anywhere, my lord."
Brutus's face turned ashen as realization struck him. The three pairs of eyes on his forehead slowly opened—Zoya's disappearance at this very moment, just as the assault on the Nosferatu catacombs began, was too well-timed to be mere coincidence.
"She was never clean from the start. Was it Elaine? Or Bieber?"
At this point, Brutus still had no idea that Staten Island had erupted into utter chaos—a vampire war raging through three whole neighborhoods, the area now as volatile as the worst parts of the Middle East.
"How's the defensive line?"
"We're barely holding in two directions, but the enemy doesn't seem intent on pressing forward. For now, we've managed to form a line, but the situation in the other four directions is bleak. The magic gates are holding for the time being."
"They won't hold for long..." Brutus knew the limits of his own magical defenses. He wasn't some great sorcerer supreme, and this was no Sanctum Sanctorum. If the enemy could break through his first barrier, they'd have no trouble shattering the second or third.
"Go reinforce the guards. Pull troops from both flanks and send them to the central corridor. Blow the other three passageways—limit our losses."
He had barely finished issuing orders when an elite guard burst in.
"My lord, two of the attacking forces have retreated!"
"Retreated?"
The shock on Brutus's face was unmistakable. He sprang up from his throne, as if he had just thought of something truly terrifying.
At that moment, the entire catacomb shuddered violently. It took more than ten seconds for the tremors to die down. Brutus stared at the dim entrance ahead, as if his worst fears had been confirmed.
And as if to prove him right, another vampire rushed into the main hall.
"My lord, they blew up two of the tunnels..."
"Just as I thought. Someone is confident they can kill us all in here. But who? Who would want this, and who could guarantee the power to make it happen?"
———
While Brutus was still wracked with doubt, Lynn was advancing with Kara, cutting through resistance like a hot knife through butter. With Kara's psychic control, the vampires either turned on each other or became her puppets.
There was almost no real resistance until they reached the second magic gate.
"Ma'am, we don't have the key to open this magic door. Only the commander has those."
It was clear that these vampires had been left behind as sacrificial pawns, even if they didn't realize it. From the Nosferatu's arrangements, these vampires were just meant to stall the attackers.
"It doesn't matter. Have someone try the method Zoya mentioned—there should be a Sorcerer among them."
"Understood, Doctor."
Lynn didn't fully trust the intel Zoya had given him—like the supposed locations of traps or the defenses in the catacombs, which showed glaring inconsistencies. Blindly following her advice would almost certainly have resulted in disaster.
With Kara's power, a captured vampire with a stiff, vacant expression stepped up to the dark gate and began casting. Dark magic coiled around him, binding him tightly.
In the next second, the energy lashed back, wracking his body with hideous pain and unnatural contortions.
Then, before everyone's eyes, a surge of dark magic exploded from within him, pouring into the gate. When his energy was fully drained, his body twisted grotesquely, then vanished as if some supernatural force had snatched him away.
...
"I knew her method wasn't right. Kara, have the beast soldiers ready. If these guys are just disposable, we're about to face real resistance behind this door."
Lynn had specially prepared beast soldiers for this battle. After so much trial and error, producing Lamorches-class beast soldiers had become second nature, especially when combined with his mutant powers. With psionic boosts, he could control all the laboratory's systems himself and bolster his forces with ease.
Kara, her face half-shrouded in a black veil, clapped her hands. Her mind-controlled vampires stepped aside, and two lightly dressed combatants stepped forward. They carried no weapons—their bodies alone were threat enough.
Their muscles bulged and writhed, ripping cheap uniforms to shreds, revealing their beast soldier forms. The two Lamorches tore the magic door open by brute force—immediately met with a hail of suppressing fire.
It wasn't just bullets; magical beams mixed in. But ordinary gunfire couldn't even slow the Lamorches down. The white guard fur covering their bodies deflected all the bullets. Magical energy attacks fared better, burning away some of their protective fur, but not breaching their defenses.
The Lamorches pressed forward, shredding the vampires' makeshift defensive line. In a heartbeat, a hapless leader was torn apart, reduced to a pile of ashes.
With the first resistance swept aside, Kara's thralls flooded in, unopposed by suppressive fire.
As they neared the end of the skirmish, a high-ranking vampire emerged from the shadows. He was nothing like Maria's previous form—his entire body was blood-red, his face savage, six eyes glaring, with massive claws gleaming with crimson magical light.
He resembled Deacon as he'd looked when Blade killed him, only stronger—his power was far more stable, and he was no amateur magician.
"Kara, did any of the cannon fodder mention vampires like this?"
"No, Doctor. In their memories, the high-ranking vampires were just like Maria—only with more complex powers, as elite guards of the catacombs, wielding greater magical strength."
"So, something unexpected."
Lynn made a shushing gesture—but the vampires, too busy fighting for their lives, didn't notice.
"Let the Lamorches handle these. You don't need to get involved—just watch."
Lynn had full confidence in the beast soldiers. As long as their opponents were vampires, the usual counters would work. Besides, he'd tuned the Lamorches specifically to counter those magical claws that could shred beast soldier flesh.
He spread a faint violet psionic barrier to protect himself and Kara, then walked forward as if the chaos around them was none of his concern.
"Sorry, Doctor, the gunfire's too loud for me to use my powers well."
"That's just a minor flaw. We'll improve that later. Kara, I have bigger plans for you."
"Thank you for your trust, Doctor."
Her gloved fingers brushed her veiled lips in a faint, almost inaudible smile. Kara was clearly pleased with Lynn's confidence, following close behind him as if being used like a chess piece was its own reward.
The high-ranking vampire, locked in battle, was powerless to do anything about Lynn's indifference—two Lamorches were attacking him. Unlike Maria or Jekyll, these soldiers weren't just brawlers; they knew how to fight.
The vampire had never felt such fear, not even after Brutus's emergency enhancements.
"The fluid on their claws—it's weakening me!"
Lamorches' claws had been modified to secrete an anti-vampire serum, just like the one used on Deacon and the lesser vampires. Even the elite couldn't resist it forever.
The vampire's darkness-charged claws crackled against the Lamorches, arcs of electricity bursting out. Lynn's beast soldiers had a special biological field that could neutralize even devastating magical attacks.
Still, the vampire's blows landed—his magical claws could cut through the Lamorches' guard fur, slicing flesh and muscle, causing real harm. Against one, he could win in ten minutes; against two, he might still prevail.
But what about a third? Or a fourth?
As victory seemed within his grasp, two more Lamorches burst through the gate, joining the fray.
This time, the vampire couldn't transform into mist quickly enough. That power had its limits.
With four beast soldiers pouncing on him, he was covered in wounds in seconds, nearly pinned—his magical defenses shattered, one bat wing torn off and burned to ash.
This won't work!
His eyes fixed on Lynn.
That man—apart from the bulletproof barrier—didn't seem to have any real protection. Kill him, and this battle would end.
He used his blink power, appearing beside Lynn in a flash. Lynn's violet shield looked paper-thin, ready to shatter.
All six of the vampire's eyes lit up with triumph; his twisted mouth split in a savage grin, fanged jaws yawning wide.
"I win!"
"Huh. I thought you'd be smart enough to run. If you did, maybe you'd live. I still don't have a perfect way to deal with your blink trick—yet."
The vampire paid Lynn's words no mind. Victory was already his—he even had time to glance at the Lamorches, who were rushing over in apparent panic.
Victory was in his grasp.
Bang.
His arm struck something hard as steel. In all his years as a vampire, he'd rarely encountered such resistance.
He glanced back in confusion—Lynn hadn't even looked at him. All around, gunfire was fading; most of the defending vampires were dead, only a few stragglers holding out.
Just as he tried to pull his arm away, his vision blurred—a blue light sliced his arm off.
He had no time to react—a tremendous force smashed into his abdomen, breaking bones and muscle, sending him flying.
He didn't get far. Four beast soldiers caught him, slammed him to the ground, and tore through his defenses with their specialized biological fields. The serum on their claws kept flowing into his body, finally disrupting even his mist-form escape.
He stared at Lynn, eyes glazed.
"Still, I like you. I wouldn't mind another useful specimen. What's your name?"
Kara crouched down, whispering in his ear.
"The Doctor asked for your name."
"S... Sanguros..."
Lynn grinned. "Well, what a coincidence..."