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Chapter 54: Ritual
Tony munched on a cheeseburger, feeling as if he had come back to life.
Tony Stark possessed an arrogant personality, his defining trait being his refusal to admit defeat. Whether out of self-respect or hubris, Tony was not one to easily admit defeat. He pulled his collar up, perfectly shielding his neck.
A large crowd surrounded him, showering him with concern, worried about the condition of this favored son of heaven. The officers, eager to curry favor, even glared angrily at Tony, expressing their loyalty and closeness to Tony.
To the Military, Tony was undeniably a big patron, as Stark Industries sold them various high-tech weapons every year.
"Mr. Stark, I heard your latest Jericho Missile has been successfully developed?"
"I understand what you mean, but you'll have to get someone higher up to talk to me," Tony said, his words muffled as he ate his hamburger.
Tony wanted this unit to stay and help them cleanse the Vampires, but he was haughtily refused: "Our orders are to rescue Mr. Stark, not to assist you."
Before boarding the helicopter, Tony asked Tony and the others to help him kill more of those monstrous things. In all these years, he had never suffered such a great loss. If Tony hadn't arrived in time, he would have become a Vampire already. This grudge was too deep.
It was imaginable that this news, once it reached the ears of the higher-ups, would be a monumental event. Vampires attacking high-ranking individuals and disregarding the rules had crossed a line, necessitating bloody retaliation. For many years, the Human Faction had not been a pushover when it came to confronting Vampires.
Blade and Whistler were growing annoyed. With such a commotion, their base was exposed, forcing them to find a new place, likely another abandoned factory or building, as always.
"Don't worry," Tony suggested, "With Tony as our big patron, why would we still be miserably hiding in this godforsaken place? Buying a building and openly recruiting a group of strong Hunters would be more efficient."
Blade bared his white teeth in a grin: "You've got a point."
The group began planning a cleansing operation in the Gold Beach District. Deacon was proving too troublesome; they absolutely had to ensure his complete demise. Tony also shared his knowledge of the "Blood God" with them, knowing that more information would grant them a greater chance of success.
"To create something like the Blood God, the blood of a Daywalker is needed. First, we must ensure Blade isn't captured by the enemy."
Blade and Whistler exchanged bewildered glances.
Tony suddenly had a bad premonition: "Don't tell me Deacon already got his hands on your blood."
"Pretty much," Blade replied innocently. "At least some of it. I had some blood drained once, then Whistler rescued me in time. I never imagined my blood would be so crucial."
Tony cursed under his breath. This was troublesome. Fighting a fully formed Blood God—killing such a monstrosity would be incredibly difficult. Then he grew suspicious: If Deacon already had the blood, what was he waiting for? Wouldn't it be better to secretly get rich instead of ostentatiously attracting everyone's attention?
The female doctor provided them with some serum, but it wasn't an antidote serum; it was a serum designed to kill Vampires.
"This was developed using an anti-coagulant," she explained. "Once injected into a Vampire's body, it has a lethal effect."
"Are you sure this stuff will work on Deacon too?"
"If one injection isn't effective, then inject a second, a third, until it is," the female doctor replied indifferently.
Blade was left speechless, choked by her words. Well, that was a powerful explanation indeed.
Finally, Tony, Old Bartender, and Blade set out for the Gold Beach District. No one else was called for support; it was just the three of them.
Tony's biggest concern remained the Blood God. This type of artificial creature was incredibly difficult to kill. Even if its body was severed, it would instantly regenerate, as if the Blood God's entire form were composed purely of blood, able to recover no matter how it was killed.
"It's a nuisance, but I refuse to believe this regeneration comes without any limitations. At worst, we'll use the simplest method and kill him hundreds or thousands of times. Can he truly revive hundreds or thousands of times?" Old Bartender said, cleaning his gun. He harbored a deep hatred for Deacon, having spent most of his life on the run. Now, finally having the chance to face and kill Deacon, he would do so at any cost.
The three rode in a car, heading straight for the Gold Beach District, not far south. Although named "Gold Beach District," the place was far less poetic than its name suggested; it was a prime example of a desolate, inaccessible, and impoverished area. No wonder Deacon had chosen this location.
What met their eyes was a dilapidated Ancient Castle, with many facilities already collapsed. Spiderwebs covered the corners, indicating no one had been there for many years.
Looking into the distance, several indistinct figures were visible at the entrance.
"Tonight's a full moon, a perfect day for these beasts to be active," Blade said with a fierce grin, majestically drawing two Tang Dao. Compared to using guns, Blade preferred to cut down enemies with his Battle Saber; it made him feel more alive, each kill being solid and real.
Optimus Prime transformed and assembled midway, pulling out a rocket launcher and blasting the guards at the entrance.
Blade's attempt to show off failed. He grudgingly got out of the car, having planned to use the vehicle's momentum to charge in and instantly hack those Vampires to death, but Tony had silently blown them up with a single shot.
Through the comms, Whistler's voice, almost dying of laughter, could be heard. He loudly mocked Blade, chuckling incessantly.
The three stood before the Ancient Castle, exchanging glances. Tony, fully armed and donning a layer of Armor, had two Small Transformers leading the way, with Blade and Whistler following closely behind.
Unexpectedly, the three made their way underground unimpeded. Any individual Vampires they occasionally encountered were either casually killed or fled in a panic; there was virtually no resisting force to stop them.
"What in the world was Deacon planning? Was he crazy, wanting to fight them face-to-face?" Tony was utterly puzzled. "An ambitious individual like Deacon wouldn't easily expose himself to danger. What exactly was he up to?"
Along the way, they could see various strange, ancient symbols carved on the walls. These were the writings of ancient Vampires, whose meanings had been largely lost to time; only Deacon knew what they truly meant.
This was indeed an Altar, the site where the Blood God was being created.
...
In the center of the Altar, further below, Deacon stood with arms outstretched, his face a mixture of madness and rapture. Around him, twelve Council Members were tightly restrained, and behind each stood an ancient Stone Stele.
"Deacon, you lunatic, you'll pay the price! The entire Vampire Kingdom won't let you get away with this!"
The twelve Council Members, now prisoners, cursed Deacon profusely. A strange aura permeated the place, as if corroding their entire bodies, and dead souls seemed to whisper in their ears, watching them from the shadows with greedy eyes.
These Council Members had lived for a long time, but their longevity didn't grant them fearless courage. They could only bolster their own resolve through curses.
To Deacon, their curses were no different from the buzzing of flies.
"They're here! Blade is here! And that Tony is here too!" shouted a Vampire.
"Finally... I no longer need the Daywalker's blood. I still need that Mutant's blood! The more, the better! The tiny bit I got before isn't nearly enough!"
Deacon spread his arms, gazing up at the dome. A flush of red unexpectedly appeared on his pale face. He was in a frenzy, his eyes revealing a morbid obsession. On the dome, a single drop of fresh blood had silently appeared!
It had begun!
The Ritual had begun!
And even... more smoothly than he had imagined!
(end of chapter)
Tony munched on a cheeseburger, feeling as if he had come back to life.
Tony Stark possessed an arrogant personality, his defining trait being his refusal to admit defeat. Whether out of self-respect or hubris, Tony was not one to easily admit defeat. He pulled his collar up, perfectly shielding his neck.
A large crowd surrounded him, showering him with concern, worried about the condition of this favored son of heaven. The officers, eager to curry favor, even glared angrily at Tony, expressing their loyalty and closeness to Tony.
To the Military, Tony was undeniably a big patron, as Stark Industries sold them various high-tech weapons every year.
"Mr. Stark, I heard your latest Jericho Missile has been successfully developed?"
"I understand what you mean, but you'll have to get someone higher up to talk to me," Tony said, his words muffled as he ate his hamburger.
Tony wanted this unit to stay and help them cleanse the Vampires, but he was haughtily refused: "Our orders are to rescue Mr. Stark, not to assist you."
Before boarding the helicopter, Tony asked Tony and the others to help him kill more of those monstrous things. In all these years, he had never suffered such a great loss. If Tony hadn't arrived in time, he would have become a Vampire already. This grudge was too deep.
It was imaginable that this news, once it reached the ears of the higher-ups, would be a monumental event. Vampires attacking high-ranking individuals and disregarding the rules had crossed a line, necessitating bloody retaliation. For many years, the Human Faction had not been a pushover when it came to confronting Vampires.
Blade and Whistler were growing annoyed. With such a commotion, their base was exposed, forcing them to find a new place, likely another abandoned factory or building, as always.
"Don't worry," Tony suggested, "With Tony as our big patron, why would we still be miserably hiding in this godforsaken place? Buying a building and openly recruiting a group of strong Hunters would be more efficient."
Blade bared his white teeth in a grin: "You've got a point."
The group began planning a cleansing operation in the Gold Beach District. Deacon was proving too troublesome; they absolutely had to ensure his complete demise. Tony also shared his knowledge of the "Blood God" with them, knowing that more information would grant them a greater chance of success.
"To create something like the Blood God, the blood of a Daywalker is needed. First, we must ensure Blade isn't captured by the enemy."
Blade and Whistler exchanged bewildered glances.
Tony suddenly had a bad premonition: "Don't tell me Deacon already got his hands on your blood."
"Pretty much," Blade replied innocently. "At least some of it. I had some blood drained once, then Whistler rescued me in time. I never imagined my blood would be so crucial."
Tony cursed under his breath. This was troublesome. Fighting a fully formed Blood God—killing such a monstrosity would be incredibly difficult. Then he grew suspicious: If Deacon already had the blood, what was he waiting for? Wouldn't it be better to secretly get rich instead of ostentatiously attracting everyone's attention?
The female doctor provided them with some serum, but it wasn't an antidote serum; it was a serum designed to kill Vampires.
"This was developed using an anti-coagulant," she explained. "Once injected into a Vampire's body, it has a lethal effect."
"Are you sure this stuff will work on Deacon too?"
"If one injection isn't effective, then inject a second, a third, until it is," the female doctor replied indifferently.
Blade was left speechless, choked by her words. Well, that was a powerful explanation indeed.
Finally, Tony, Old Bartender, and Blade set out for the Gold Beach District. No one else was called for support; it was just the three of them.
Tony's biggest concern remained the Blood God. This type of artificial creature was incredibly difficult to kill. Even if its body was severed, it would instantly regenerate, as if the Blood God's entire form were composed purely of blood, able to recover no matter how it was killed.
"It's a nuisance, but I refuse to believe this regeneration comes without any limitations. At worst, we'll use the simplest method and kill him hundreds or thousands of times. Can he truly revive hundreds or thousands of times?" Old Bartender said, cleaning his gun. He harbored a deep hatred for Deacon, having spent most of his life on the run. Now, finally having the chance to face and kill Deacon, he would do so at any cost.
The three rode in a car, heading straight for the Gold Beach District, not far south. Although named "Gold Beach District," the place was far less poetic than its name suggested; it was a prime example of a desolate, inaccessible, and impoverished area. No wonder Deacon had chosen this location.
What met their eyes was a dilapidated Ancient Castle, with many facilities already collapsed. Spiderwebs covered the corners, indicating no one had been there for many years.
Looking into the distance, several indistinct figures were visible at the entrance.
"Tonight's a full moon, a perfect day for these beasts to be active," Blade said with a fierce grin, majestically drawing two Tang Dao. Compared to using guns, Blade preferred to cut down enemies with his Battle Saber; it made him feel more alive, each kill being solid and real.
Optimus Prime transformed and assembled midway, pulling out a rocket launcher and blasting the guards at the entrance.
Blade's attempt to show off failed. He grudgingly got out of the car, having planned to use the vehicle's momentum to charge in and instantly hack those Vampires to death, but Tony had silently blown them up with a single shot.
Through the comms, Whistler's voice, almost dying of laughter, could be heard. He loudly mocked Blade, chuckling incessantly.
The three stood before the Ancient Castle, exchanging glances. Tony, fully armed and donning a layer of Armor, had two Small Transformers leading the way, with Blade and Whistler following closely behind.
Unexpectedly, the three made their way underground unimpeded. Any individual Vampires they occasionally encountered were either casually killed or fled in a panic; there was virtually no resisting force to stop them.
"What in the world was Deacon planning? Was he crazy, wanting to fight them face-to-face?" Tony was utterly puzzled. "An ambitious individual like Deacon wouldn't easily expose himself to danger. What exactly was he up to?"
Along the way, they could see various strange, ancient symbols carved on the walls. These were the writings of ancient Vampires, whose meanings had been largely lost to time; only Deacon knew what they truly meant.
This was indeed an Altar, the site where the Blood God was being created.
...
In the center of the Altar, further below, Deacon stood with arms outstretched, his face a mixture of madness and rapture. Around him, twelve Council Members were tightly restrained, and behind each stood an ancient Stone Stele.
"Deacon, you lunatic, you'll pay the price! The entire Vampire Kingdom won't let you get away with this!"
The twelve Council Members, now prisoners, cursed Deacon profusely. A strange aura permeated the place, as if corroding their entire bodies, and dead souls seemed to whisper in their ears, watching them from the shadows with greedy eyes.
These Council Members had lived for a long time, but their longevity didn't grant them fearless courage. They could only bolster their own resolve through curses.
To Deacon, their curses were no different from the buzzing of flies.
"They're here! Blade is here! And that Tony is here too!" shouted a Vampire.
"Finally... I no longer need the Daywalker's blood. I still need that Mutant's blood! The more, the better! The tiny bit I got before isn't nearly enough!"
Deacon spread his arms, gazing up at the dome. A flush of red unexpectedly appeared on his pale face. He was in a frenzy, his eyes revealing a morbid obsession. On the dome, a single drop of fresh blood had silently appeared!
It had begun!
The Ritual had begun!
And even... more smoothly than he had imagined!
(end of chapter)
