Chapter Text
楼閣: Multi-Storied Building
He stared at the winding monstrosity, steel-blue eyes faltering. There was no amount of training, no records, nothing that could have possibly prepared Julius for the monstrosity of Castle Dracula. It jutted from a towering cliff like its master’s teeth, run-off frothing into the lake below. Storm clouds wreathed its towers. There would be a glimmer in the sky like cut diamonds catching moonlight, then a horrible bang.
Wailing winds cut through Julius’ jacket and determination. “That’s…That’s it, huh?”
“Come on, kid,” his old mentor grumbled. “My family didn’t haul yours around for over a hundred and fifty years just for you to back down now.”
承服: Compliance
The young man shuddered as Dracula crumbled before him. His elegance was dashed to pieces, spilling red and black across the marbled floors. Adrenaline made the hunter’s arms shake. Was this it? What everybody had been preparing him to do?
It was easy. Too easy.
Red eyes cut into his resolve. “You think this is the end, Belmont?”
Julius held his whip taut. “You’re not one to admit defeat this easily. Either surrender, or move onto your next trick.”
“You are indeed a clever one. Well trained,” Dracula laughed. His nostrils flared, blood running from sensitive sinuses. “The scents of several hunters are on you. Belmonts, Belnades…ah, that fool Morris as well. He must be quite old by now, is he not?”
“Don’t make me hit you while you’re down,” Julius hissed.
The dark lord wavered, shuddering as blood pooled beneath his cape. He smiled, more crimson liquid seeping between his teeth. “Did my son teach you to be that weak?”
Julius flinched. Of course, Dracula could smell Alucard’s scent in the hunter’s coat. Who else could have demonstrated even a fraction of Dracula’s power? Old Jonathan had guided his hands straight across Alucard’s body, both men shaping his heart and mind. The only reason Dracula had been torn apart so fast was because of those awful fights, fire and silver clashing against each other, each participant satisfied to be wobbling away from their sparring. At first, it had ended with Julius on his back, Julius sick as a dog, Julius slurping soup and trying not to bump his broken nose with his spoon. When the hourglass inversed—when it was Alucard that faltered and fainted—it made him even sicker.
Seeing Dracula so thoroughly defeated made that hardship worth it.
“Get up,” Julius demanded. “Let’s finish this.”
Dracula sneered, but obeyed. He licked the blood from his lips, eyes glowing with amusement. “He’s here, isn’t he?”
Julius answered him with a sharp lash. He cut through black fabric, drawing a new line of blood across the floor. As he pulled back, the darkness came with him. It flooded over his head, landing with a flourish at the throne room’s doors. Dracula pushed them open, laughing as Julius came snapping on his heels.
With a single shove, he slammed the doors shut in Julius’ face.
There was a click before Julius regained his senses. His heart twisted with the key to Dracula’s throne room. The hunter banged against the massive entrance, growling as stone and gold did not give way. “Come back and fight, you coward!”
“In time, Belmont,” Dracula laughed. “But first, I wish to have a little visit with my son.”
敗戦: Defeat
He had climbed down from the tallest tower of the castle, skidding down brick walls, fingers raw and bloody from his escape. He braved the clock tower’s swinging gears, cut through the snarled garden, bashed the bones of every single monster in front of him into a fine powder. There was no time to stop and rest. His eyes flashed with the pouring rain and lightning, his red scarf aflame in the night storm. Julius could not stop until his friends were safe, Dracula’s claws turned back once more.
But he was too late.
There was blood splashed across the courtyard. It poured from a stilled heart. Julius’ own twisted, his knees sinking as he crashed by the corpse’s side. It was the priest’s daughter—Yoko Hakuba—staff broken and neck torn into a scarlet bloom of gore. He screamed in tandem with another throat. Her father was fighting to go to her, Missus Morris pulling him away from the demon that had struck his baby down.
Julius rose. His guts fell. Three other hunters dug their heels into the ground, ripping at the smug monster that had trapped him in his own throne room. Dracula was every bit his namesake—breathing fire, claws tearing through the earth, teeth pulled into a wide, feral grin. He phased through Jonathan’s blade, then cracked him in the gut. The old man flew back into a pillar, breath and strength crushed in one strike.
The Belmont tore across the courtyard. “Jonathan!”
Another shriek stole his voice. Dracula had turned on the young Belnades witch, snatching her from the ground by her neck. She kicked at the demon’s knees. Piercing ice followed her next strike. It ran the dark lord through, frozen fangs cleaving his torso. He smirked—that damn smile, wicked and eternal—then drew his own apart.
“No!” Julius snarled.
His whip closed the distance, silver singing its haunting aria over the storm. The Vampire Killer found purchase around Dracula’s neck. The Belmont pulled back, forcing Dracula from his second course. Another weapon buried itself in the monster’s back, through his cape and shoulders, metal jutting inches away from the witch’s face. She finally blasted herself free, driving Dracula deeper into the embrace of the sword.
“Julius!” Alucard wrapped his arm around his father’s neck, holding the thrashing tyrant with all of his strength. “Now!”
The hunter nodded. He pulled back, power and rage coursing through his blood. This would be all it would take, the last time the Vampire Killer would have to live up to its name. Then, Old Hakuba could finish the ritual, seal all of this evil away—never let any suffer like his daughter had ever again.
He reached out.
Fire consumed him.
Julius had hardly heard the spell before it burst from Dracula. It flung them all away—the witch, the hunter, the monster’s child. The rain itself stopped in its blaze, steaming away as the magic circle burst. Julius felt neither heat nor the cold. All that he registered was a crack in the back of his skull, then sudden darkness.
It may have been hours before he awoke. He was surprised that he woke up at all. Around him were the scorched ruins of his defeat. Sweet, young Hakuba’s body was coated in a simple cloak, her father and the witch mourning over her. Missus Morris was tending to his wounds, Old Morris staring blankly over the blackened battlefield in horror. Julius shuddered. That old man had lived through wars, and even they hadn’t been enough to smother the fire inside of him.
The Belmont struggled to sit up. “Mis-Mister Morris.”
“Yeah?” Jonathan grunted.
“What’s our situation?” Julius huffed.
“Look around you, kid.” His mentor’s voice was washed out, throat graveled. “Hakuba Junior’s KIA. Her dad’s destroyed. Belnades is WIA. Alucard’s MIA. Charlotte’s burned her eyes cryin’ out. And me?” The old man lowered his head. “Goddamnit, son. We’ve lost.”
His words cut a jagged path into Julius’ heart.
暴虐: Tyranny
Metal teeth quieted the furious dhampir.
He shuddered as combs and nails caught his hair, stroked through it again and again. There was no running from his father’s grip. The old tyrant’s strength was as powerful as the moon, swift and sure as the beams cutting through the windows. Perhaps he could break through the glass, burst open the doors, stand and try to fight again. Where could he fly that larger wings wouldn’t catch him? How far could he get before his father twisted the corridors again, trapped him in another gilded cage? Where was his mother’s gift—his resolve?
At least, submitting here, he could contain his father’s wrath long enough for Julius, Jonathan, and what remaining hunters there were to recover.
“It has been a long time since I have done this,” Dracula murmured. He pressed his fingers across one tendril of white hair, pleased with how thick and smooth it had grown. “You were always so independent. Why, I remember when this all used to stand on its ends, and you wouldn’t let your mother or I—”
“Do not talk of my mother,” Alucard growled.
His resistance was met with a slow, sure tug. Dracula pulled his head back, forcing him to look into scarlet-stained irises. “Do not scold me, boy.”
Alucard shivered again. Nearly five-hundred and sixty years old, and his father still saw him as a child. Worse yet—his art. Raw material meant to show his sensitivities, his tastes. That was why Alucard was stripped of his mortal trappings, forced into regal garments, cloaked in his father’s colors. Even his mane was silk for his father’s mad loom.
He was no man. No monster. Just Dracula’s toy.
再三: Repeatedly
There was no glory to this battle. Dracula never espoused his wisdom, never spat in Julius’ eye. All that was before the Belmont was failing, the monster’s misshapen body buckling. Blood cascaded from sharp jaws and long, lean limbs. The repulsive sight of its distress sent fear and rage flaring across Julius’ arms. He shattered one ivory horn, then the other, dragging the Vampire Killer across the demon’s twisted face.
Over—over—over again.
Crack! Up went one splash of blood. Crack! There went a jagged hunk of flesh. Crack! Crack! Crack! Julius’ arms burned, jacket twisting around his muscles, his heels burning as they struck the ground. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t pull himself out of his own blood lust. Dracula had to die! Die! Die!
Julius pulled back, roaring.
Then shuddered.
This was wrong. This anger, this unquenchable thirst for vicious combat—this was the same darkness that had corrupted Richter so long ago. He looked at the demon before him, its swollen and torn muscles shining in the moonlight. One eye flared open, gold shining in almond irises. The demon didn’t lash out at him. It just panted, saliva red and hot, the sheer power of moving its mutilated body too much effort for it to take.
Julius dropped his whip. “Why aren’t you fighting back?”
When the demon bowed his head, blood-stained hair spilling over his eyes, the Belmont saw through Dracula’s wretched deception and screamed.
嘱望: Aspiring
He was hoping to get a party, when he made it home. Not one the day after Dracula was dead. Just something nice on his birthday. A cake, drinks, people actually being happy for a change. Maybe, even his father looking at him with joy for once. Like he wasn’t a dead man walking.
His father was gone now, his mother long before him. His step mom was out of the picture, too. His half-sister? Well, there was the occasional phone call from her. Not that he expected much out of her, given their strange circumstances. She was just five when he went to fight, after all. She hardly knew him.
There was no family to go home to. That did not mean Julius was alone.
He still had Alucard. Different hair, different name, same old stick up his ass. Yoko was more his sister than his actual sibling. She always was texting him, sending pictures of this or that. Mina was a pleasant girl. Hammer was…well, Hammer. And Soma?
Well, there had to be stranger things in the world than a vampire hunter sharing his birthday cake with Dracula’s reincarnation.