From the very beginning, Integra, Seras, and Alessa had been watching everything unfold from the rooftop of a nearby building. Integra knew exactly what kind of effect releasing Alucard’s Level Zero seal would produce, but she still didn’t fully understand what Alex had done—or what door he had been referring to. Like everyone else, she heard the eerie, drawn-out creak of a door after Alex finished speaking. However, because Alucard had unleashed every soul imprisoned within her body, Integra couldn’t notice anything unusual.

Seras stood beside Integra, holding Alessa in her arms. When the sound of the door rang out, Seras sensed that something had changed in the air around them, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Her attention was quickly drawn to the river of blood. And Seras found herself wanting to learn more about that river of blood. She watched as silhouettes began to emerge from it—ordinary people, knights, soldiers—all from different eras.

Seras wasn’t particularly strong in history, but even she had no trouble recognizing the Janissary army from their distinctive clothing and banners. She could hardly believe her eyes—seeing how many souls Alucard had consumed, enough to form an entire river of blood that swept away everything in its path. Integra, too, recognized everyone emerging from the river: from the Janissary army to Wallachian cavalry. And she wasn’t the only one who recognized them.

But what no one noticed was that among those figures rising from the river of blood were also monsters, demons, and crimson ghosts—difficult to spot unless one looked very closely. That was why almost no one noticed the appearance of those creatures and specters—except for the first wendigos released by Alex, simply because the wendigos were fast enough to be the first to step through the crimson door he had summoned.

“Watch carefully, Seras. All this blood, all these people and their souls—they all belong to Alucard. Blood is the currency of the soul, the coins of life. Drinking someone’s blood means taking their entire life for yourself. Now do you understand… what you were, and what you could become in the future if you follow that path? Even if you are now only half Nosferatu… do you understand this, Seras Victoria?” Integra said, staring down at the river of blood below.

“Yes… I understand,” Seras replied quietly, giving a small nod while gazing at the crimson torrent.

“Mommy Seras, you don’t have to walk a path you don’t want to walk. Daddy always says: each person decides for themselves which road to take. And you have to decide for yourself how you will act,” Alessa said, sitting on the stone railing, gently swinging her legs as she looked downward.

Hearing Alessa’s words, Seras felt a small wave of relief. She still didn’t want to drink human blood or absorb human souls. Even remaining half Nosferatu, Seras didn’t want to share her body with anyone else—as though doing so would cause her to lose herself entirely. Integra shifted her gaze to Alessa and gave a faint smile, hearing such wise words from a child.

Alessa, meanwhile, was looking in the direction where the river of blood had carried Alex away. She knew perfectly well that her father was currently very irritated by what her mother Alucard had done. At the same time, Alucard began directing the river of blood—summoning those she had consumed and guiding them to slaughter the Crusaders and vampire soldiers. The Crusaders raised their shields in front of them to block the army of blood.

But that army, born of blood, swept the Crusaders aside without even slowing down. At this moment it was no longer a war between the Vatican, England, and Millennium—it had become a one-sided massacre, where every soldier fought only for their own survival. Once again the sounds of gunfire and explosions rang out across London as everyone who could still move tried desperately to escape the army of blood.

The thunder of hooves and the groans of the dead drowned out the sound of gunfire. Those who tried to flee were trampled beneath hooves or impaled on spears. Vatican helicopters opened fire on Maxwell’s orders, unleashing every weapon they had. Rockets rained down on the river of blood. But no matter how many exploded within that crimson torrent, the river never diminished.

Before one of the helicopters could launch another salvo, an imp leaped onto its nose, shattered the cockpit glass, and sank its claws into the pilot’s throat. The Crusaders inside the cabin immediately opened fire to kill the imp—but it was already too late. The helicopter began to spiral downward.

Other helicopters soon came under attack from demons and other monsters Alucard had consumed. As the helicopters crashed and exploded—falling onto both Crusaders below and vampire soldiers—the scene below and in the air resembled nothing more than a slaughter, not a war.

Anderson, standing on a rooftop, watched it all with clenched teeth, one foot resting on the parapet. Amid the chaos he managed to spot demons and monsters attacking anyone in sight. One of the Pinkies—covered in red veins—leaped onto the roof where Anderson stood and immediately charged toward the priest. Just as the Pinky nearly reached him, Anderson spun around and sliced it into pieces with his silver bayonets.

Anderson didn’t understand what these creatures were or where they had come from, but he recognized them as demonic beings that needed to be exterminated. After killing the Pinky, he shifted his gaze to the helicopter towing Maxwell’s reinforced glass cabin. Looking at Maxwell, Anderson had already made his decision about what he would do. His earlier conversation with Alex had only strengthened his resolve.

Anderson gripped one of his silver bayonets tightly, ready to throw it and sever the cable attached to the helicopter. But before he could act, a wendigo leaped onto the helicopter, instantly killing the pilot and everyone inside. The helicopter towing Maxwell’s cabin began to plummet.

As the glass cabin containing Maxwell fell, he screamed in terror, unable to believe he would die in such a place. He had only just obtained what he had desired for so long—he refused to lose everything he had gained through such immense effort. The reinforced glass cabin crashed onto the blood-soaked asphalt, and Maxwell briefly lost consciousness from the impact of his head against the wall.

Coming to quickly, Maxwell lifted his terrified gaze and saw the silhouettes of people Alucard had consumed. Blood streamed down his face as he stared in horror at the bloodied hands clawing at the walls of the glass cabin. Seeing that the dead couldn’t reach him, Maxwell burst into loud, arrogant laughter.

“This is special reinforced Tectite glass! You can’t even scratch it, you corpses…!” Maxwell shouted, laughing loudly as he returned to his usual haughty demeanor.

But his laughter was abruptly cut short when a silver bayonet pierced the wall of the glass cabin. The blade stopped less than an inch from Maxwell’s face. He froze.

Fear flooded Maxwell’s eyes once more as cracks began spreading across the glass. Paralyzed with terror, he slowly turned and saw Anderson standing on the roof of the nearest building.

“ANDERSON!!!” Maxwell screamed, staring at him.

Anderson simply stood on the rooftop, looking down and watching the final moments of the man he had once considered a friend and student. A faint pain stirred in Anderson’s heart—he felt he had failed as both a friend and a mentor to Maxwell, who had been consumed by his own ambition.

Anderson understood that Maxwell would die regardless, and so he decided to end Maxwell’s life with his own hands—as both friend and teacher. A moment later the glass cabin shattered completely, and the dead immediately swarmed Maxwell, seizing him with bloodied hands and dragging him out.

Maxwell screamed and reached toward Anderson, begging for help and salvation. But his cry was cut short when his body was impaled on stakes. Anderson watched it all with a heavy heart, yet felt no guilt for what he had done.

“As the executor of divine justice on Earth… I end your life. Farewell, my friend,” Anderson said quietly, watching as life slowly left Maxwell’s body.

When Anderson spoke those words, Maxwell heard them even through the thunder of hooves ridden by the dead, even through the groans of the corpses reaching for him. In his final moments, Maxwell finally understood the terrible mistake he had made—that even the man he had considered his mentor and friend had turned away from him.

Maxwell realized that, in the end, he was once again alone and unwanted. And no matter how desperately he wished to change everything, what had already happened could not be undone. If he had had the strength in that moment, he would have laughed at himself—for in a single day he had gained everything he ever wanted, and in that same day lost it all, including the figure of his mentor and his very life.

Impaled on stakes, Maxwell reached one last time toward Anderson, as though trying to touch him. But his life finally ended, and his hand fell limply. Anderson never once looked away from Maxwell throughout the entire ordeal—he remained with him until the very end.

When Maxwell’s life finally ended, Anderson took a step forward and leaped from the roof. Landing below, he walked slowly toward Maxwell’s body. As Anderson advanced, the dead parted around him, allowing him to pass.

Reaching Maxwell’s corpse, Anderson looked down at it with a heavy gaze. Old memories flashed before his eyes—from the very day Maxwell first arrived at the orphanage. With a deep sigh, Anderson sat beside the body and gently laid Maxwell’s head on his knee.

“God, what a fool you were… A hopeless, irredeemable fool,” Anderson said softly, brushing his palm across Maxwell’s face to close his eyes.

At the same time, the river of blood had carried Alex far enough to finally spit him out onto the roadside. Landing hard on his back against the pavement, Alex stared up at the crimson sky overhead, where a black sun and blood-red moon hung. He let out a heavy sigh and immediately understood why Alucard had done it.

But he couldn’t blame himself for having the fleeting thought that Alucard might take on a male form instead of female once all her seals were released. Still, as the river of blood swept him away, he had caught a glimpse of Alucard’s new appearance in her black-and-gold plate armor. Alex couldn’t deny that she looked incredibly attractive in that form—but he was still irritated that she had washed him away in a river of blood.

Sighing again, Alex reached for his cigarettes and made no move to stand up. As he lit one—still lying on the pavement, drenched in blood—a silhouette appeared above him: a girl with long black hair.

Zhang Ya crouched beside Alex and leaned forward to look into his eyes. Seeing her black eyes, Alex turned his head and noticed she had changed into her red school uniform. It had been a long time since he last saw Zhang Ya dressed like that.

“Nice outfit, Zhang Ya,” Alex said, still lying on the pavement and slowly smoking his cigarette.

“…” Zhang Ya silently continued staring at him.

“Yeah, I know. No need to look at me like that. It’s not my fault… Anyone in my place would have thought the same thing,” Alex said, rolling his eyes slightly.

“…” Zhang Ya responded with a reproachful stare.

“Don’t judge me. Carmilla herself said she could take any form. So I thought—maybe, just maybe—if all the seals were removed, she might become a man. And yeah, that would’ve felt weird,” Alex said lazily, rolling onto his side.

“…” Zhang Ya placed her pale hand on Alex’s face and rolled him back onto his back.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Just help me up—I’m tired…” Alex said, understanding why Zhang Ya had flipped him over again.

Zhang Ya looked at Alex with an empty gaze. Her long hair lengthened and instantly wrapped around his body. Enclosed in a cocoon of hair, Alex relaxed even more and was already prepared to fall asleep. But it ended as quickly as it began—Zhang Ya simply lifted him to his feet using her hair.

Back on his feet, Alex sighed lightly and stretched to shake off the fatigue. He knew he had relaxed too much—it was time to move and do what he had planned, even if right now he felt incredibly lazy. Alex began stretching lightly until he finished.

While stretching, he watched what was happening in front of him: the army of blood, downed helicopters, Maxwell’s death, the deaths of Crusaders and vampire soldiers—Alex saw it all. But what annoyed him was the crowd of corpses that had gathered around him, reaching with bloodied hands. If not for Zhang Ya, he would still be riding that river of blood.

“Ah, right. You can call the ghosts and demons back to the Red City. They’re not needed anymore. The crimson door will close once the fake London ceases to exist,” Alex said, turning his head toward Zhang Ya.

Zhang Ya gave a slight nod. The monsters and demons roaming among the army of the dead in search of victims began to vanish—pulled back into shadow. Zhang Ya approached Alex, brushed her fingers across his cheeks, and then disappeared into his shadow. Alex smiled faintly as Zhang Ya left and extended his hand backward.

Once Zhang Ya vanished, the corpses created from blood immediately attacked him.

Alex roughly understood why they were attacking everyone in sight—including him. These blood-born dead were drawn to the Ring of Death he wore on his index finger. Even if Alucard had complete control over all her familiars, they still acted on instinct—attacking anything that radiated danger.

“Come, Leviathan,” Alex said, continuing to extend his hand backward.

In that instant space cracked behind him, and a massive two-handed axe flew out. When Leviathan reached Alex’s hand, he gripped it with both hands and slammed it into the ground before the corpses could reach him. The moment Leviathan struck the earth, a shockwave of frost spread outward—freezing everything around him, including the blood-born dead.

Freezing an entire street, Alex looked at the Leviathan axe in his hand—an weapon he hadn’t used since receiving it for saving a previous world. The handle was made of dark wood adorned with elegant golden patterns, ancient runes, and symbols.

At the bottom of the handle was carved the world serpent Jörmungandr. The axe head was massive and curved, decorated with fine engravings and golden lines. Holding Leviathan in his hands, Alex was glad to finally use it again—without worrying that certain all-seeing bastards would be watching if he relaxed even slightly.

“Should’ve taken you out earlier… Just have to make sure I don’t freeze everything around me,” Alex said, exhaling a white cloud of vapor from the cold surrounding him.

Spinning Leviathan in his hand, Alex made a sharp swing and hurled it straight into the center of the crowd of corpses. The axe embedded itself in one of them and unleashed a freezing shockwave—turning all nearby corpses into ice statues. Alex immediately leaped forward and extended his hand; Leviathan flew back into his grip.

Spinning Leviathan overhead, Alex crashed down in the middle of the corpses, slamming the axe into the ground and creating another shockwave that froze and shattered their bodies. After the strike, Alex rose and looked around, giving a low whistle as he realized he had managed to contain Leviathan’s destructive power—while still freezing an entire street and turning thousands of corpses into ice statues.

“Hmm… What should I ask for next? Maybe the Chaos Blades or something even cooler? Or should I finish my first collection and request Rebellion?” Alex said, stroking his chin and tapping Leviathan’s shaft against his shoulder.

Alex began pondering what weapon to request as payment for saving this world. But he didn’t stop moving—he continued hurling Leviathan into the corpses and calling it back. After retrieving it once more, Alex narrowed his eyes slightly and made a circular swing—hurling Leviathan so it spun around him, shattering frozen corpses.

While he had both the opportunity and targets for practice, Alex decided to fully test Leviathan’s abilities he remembered. Wherever he fought, everything around him became coated in thick ice, leaving trails of frozen corpses in his wake.

Alex continued cutting through the army of the dead, making his way toward the central square where Integra, Seras, Alucard, and Alessa waited. As he pushed forward, he found himself surrounded once again—and it was starting to annoy him. He had already tested all of Leviathan’s abilities except one.

“You guys don’t mind if I throw a local Fimbulwinter, do you?” Alex asked, glancing at the corpses encircling him.

The only response he received was a cavalry charge. Alex gripped Leviathan with both hands and raised it overhead. In that moment a ravenous storm began rising around him—carrying ice and snow. With every passing second the storm grew stronger, expanding outward like an arctic blizzard that had arrived in London.

The mounted warriors charging to impale Alex froze instantly—turning into ice statues just two steps away from him. Everything around Alex became encased in ice and then shattered by the howling gale.

The wind began lifting shattered corpses, scattering them in all directions and carrying them into the sky—causing red snow to fall gently across the fake London. And at the center of this frozen hurricane stood Alex—the one who had summoned the blizzard.

Shortly before Alex unleashed the snowstorm, only Integra, Seras, Alucard, and Alessa remained in the center of London where it had all begun. After Alucard pushed back the enemy forces with her blood-born familiars, Seras, Integra, and Alessa descended from the rooftop.

The entire square was littered with spears impaling the bodies of Crusaders and vampires, their blood slowly draining onto the ground and spreading across the plaza. Alucard—in her black-and-gold armor—approached Integra and knelt on one knee before her.

Seras peeked out from behind Integra, staring in awe at Alucard’s new appearance. She couldn’t deny that in this form Alucard looked stunning and heroic—like a warrior woman leading a vast army. Integra regarded Alucard with calm composure.

“Welcome back, Countess,” Integra said with a faint smile.

“Thank you, Countess,” Alucard replied, lifting her gaze to Integra.

“W-welcome back, Master. Your new outfit looks amazing on you. Did you change your hairstyle?” Seras asked shyly.

Alucard shifted her gaze to Seras and rose from her knee. Seras grew slightly nervous under that look and closed her eyes as Alucard reached toward her. Seras thought she was about to be scolded for refusing to drink blood and choosing a different path even in this situation.

But a moment later Seras relaxed as she felt Alucard gently stroke her head. Feeling the tender touch, Seras opened her eyes. Looking up, she met Alucard’s gaze—and saw a gentle, proud smile on her face.

Alucard wasn’t angry at Seras for refusing blood. That was precisely why she valued her—Seras still held to her principles and chose her own path. Alucard had come to see Seras as family—as a little sister who had grown up before her eyes.

“You did well, Police Girl… No—now you are Seras Victoria. I’m proud that you chose your own path,” Alucard said, continuing to stroke Seras’s head.

Seras was momentarily stunned, then broke into a bright smile as she looked at Alucard. Alucard shifted her gaze to Alessa and gently ran her hand through the girl’s hair. In this moment Alucard was no longer the mad vampire who lived for chaos—she was simply someone who had finally returned home.

And it felt completely natural—as though everything had fallen back into place. Alessa looked up at Alucard with her black eyes, wrinkling her nose slightly as the iron gauntlets of Alucard’s armor brushed her head. But suddenly this strange atmosphere of reunion amid the chaos was interrupted by a single red snowflake landing on Seras’s hand.

Seras stared at the red snowflake and looked up at the sky—seeing more and more red flakes beginning to fall. She couldn’t understand why snow was falling in early summer—and red snow at that. Integra and Alucard also noticed the red snow drifting down and lifted their gazes skyward. Only Alessa looked in the direction where Alex had been swept away by the river of blood.

“Mommy Dracula… You made Daddy really angry when you washed him away with the river of blood,” Alessa said without much emotion, pointing toward the raging snowstorm.

Integra, Alucard, and Seras turned to look where Alessa pointed and saw the blizzard sweeping everything in its path—destroying buildings, freezing everything around it, and hurling chunks of ice in all directions. And at the center of it all was Alex—along with Alucard’s familiars, who continued charging at him only to be frozen into ice blocks and pulverized by the hurricane—turning into red snow.

Seeing what Alex was doing, Alucard burst into loud laughter, clutching her stomach. She had sensed why her familiars kept attacking Alex—as though he were the greatest evil in this place.

Because he radiated death—and her familiars were drawn to that death, desperate to escape her. Feeling this, Alucard couldn’t stop laughing at how her familiars and the souls she had tamed had chosen to flee from her. The scent of death from Alex lured them like moths to flame.

“But why snow? How did snow even appear? Why is there a blizzard? How did he create a snowstorm at all?” Seras began asking in stunned disbelief, staring at what was happening before her eyes.

“Mommy Alucard’s familiars attacked Daddy, so he attacked back. Isn’t that obvious, Mommy Seras?” Alessa said, looking at Seras.

“But the snow? The blizzard?” Seras asked with a strained smile.

“Ask Daddy when he gets here… I don’t know,” Alessa replied, spreading her arms and shaking her head.

Seras nearly collapsed from Alessa’s answer. Integra continued watching the snowstorm Alex had summoned, wondering what other abilities he had revealed. All that interested her now was what else Alex was capable of—and what his limits might be.

Bringing her thin cigar to her lips, Integra took a drag and exhaled, extending her hand to catch a falling red snowflake. Pinching it between her fingers, she shifted her gaze to Alucard—who was still laughing as she watched the blizzard. Narrowing her eyes slightly, Integra became curious about what Alucard had realized that made her laugh so hard.

They continued watching until the snowstorm began to subside and the red snow stopped falling from the sky. When the blizzard finally died down, they saw something flying toward them.

A moment later they received their answer as an elegant two-handed axe landed nearby—the ground around it instantly coating with ice. With Leviathan’s arrival the temperature dropped so sharply that vapor began rising from their breaths. And in the next instant Alex appeared beside the axe—he pulled it from the ground with one hand, and the temperature immediately returned to normal.

“Carmilla… that wasn’t cool. You washed me away in a river of blood, and then your familiars attacked me. I was just speculating—no need to get so mad,” Alex said, rolling his eyes as he looked at Alucard.

“Really? I was just joking too,” Alucard replied with a slight smile, resting a hand on her cheek.

Alex looked at Alucard and couldn’t help rolling his eyes again at the response. He knew perfectly well this had been revenge for his stray thought that she might turn into a man. Alucard gazed back at him with an innocent expression—as though she had only been teasing and it had all been an accident.

Alex didn’t believe that look for a second. While Alex and Alucard stared at each other, Seras approached Alex and began examining Leviathan from every angle—admiring how exquisitely and masterfully crafted the axe was. To Seras, Leviathan in Alex’s hands didn’t look like a weapon of war—it looked more like a work of art. Seras cautiously reached out a finger to touch Leviathan—only to receive a sharp slap on the hand.

“Ow! What was that for?” Seras asked after the smack.

“What are you, five? Haven’t you ever been taught not to touch things that look dangerous?” Alex said, staring at her blankly.

“But it’s just a beautiful axe… right?” Seras said in an injured tone—then faltered under Alex’s gaze.

“Yeah, just an ordinary axe that can freeze everything around it. Have you ever seen any weapon in my hands that was purely decorative?” Alex asked with obvious sarcasm.

Seras paused for a moment, recalling every weapon she had seen in Alex’s hands—and realized he was right. Understanding that he was correct, Seras could only nod apologetically and give him a sheepish look. Alex shook his head and gently patted her hair. Integra also stepped closer to examine Leviathan.

She had already seen that Alex possessed a magical spear capable of changing form, and now she was curious where he had obtained such a weapon. Integra raised her gaze to Alex—silently asking to take a closer look at his axe. She had noticed that as long as Leviathan remained in his hands, it posed no danger to the surroundings. Seeing no reason to refuse Integra, Alex extended Leviathan so she could inspect it more closely.

“Where did you get a weapon like this? First a spear, now an axe. And don’t you dare say you just ‘found’ it by chance,” Integra said, lifting her gaze to Alex after studying the runes carved into the axe.

“Leviathan is payment for my work. As for Chastiefol—the one you remembered—I made that one myself out of boredom. I just wanted a cool weapon that could change shape,” Alex replied, planting Leviathan’s blade in the ground and leaning on the shaft with both hands.

“Who pays with something like this for your work?” Integra pressed, her tone more insistent as she sought an answer.

“The one who gives me the job. Isn’t it obvious? You, for example, paid me too—with your love,” Alex said, forming a heart shape with his fingers and holding it up toward Integra’s face.

Seeing Alex’s hand in front of her face, Integra irritably swatted it away—annoyed that he was once again dodging her questions. But suddenly Alex shoved Integra aside and hurled Leviathan toward Alucard. The axe flew straight at Alucard and knocked Anderson backward—he had suddenly appeared above Alucard’s head.

Seeing the flying axe, Anderson raised his silver bayonets to block the strike. But the impact sent him skidding backward across the ground. When he finally stopped sliding, both his arms and the silver bayonets in his hands were coated in a layer of ice—which he immediately shattered. A smile played on Alucard’s lips when Anderson appeared.

She had noticed his arrival and allowed Alex to protect her once again from injury. She was still curious why Alex continued shielding her—even knowing she was immortal. Alex extended his hand, and Leviathan flew back into his grip. Anderson looked at Alex and frowned, drawing fresh silver bayonets.

“Hello again, Anderson. So here we are at the end of your road. I told you we’d end up standing opposite each other,” Alex said, resting Leviathan on his shoulder.

“Are you prepared to protect this monster to the very end—the one who has taken millions of lives and will take millions more?” Anderson asked, staring intently at Alex.

“You already know my answer, Anderson. Why ask these questions?” Alex replied calmly, lighting a cigarette.

“So be it, monster. We are servants of the Lord. Executors of divine justice on Earth. Our mission is to exterminate to the last drop of blood the fools who oppose the Lord. Amen,” Anderson said, crossing his silver bayonets.

“Wonderful, my sworn enemy! Simply wonderful. So come—attack and fight. Even if the situation is against you. Fight and die for what you believe in,” Alucard said, stepping up beside Alex.

“Don’t egg him on, Carmilla. I don’t need him to die. I want to talk to him. And the simplest way to make that happen… is to beat him until he’s willing to listen,” Alex said, gently nudging Alucard’s shoulder.

Alucard let out a soft laugh at Alex’s words and felt a spark of intrigue about what exactly Alex had planned for Anderson. But that didn’t mean she would obey him or refrain from trying to kill Anderson in this battle. Alucard was curious whether Alex could carry out his plan if she actively tried to eliminate Anderson during the fight.

Alex immediately understood what Alucard intended and let out a heavy sigh, exhaling cigarette smoke. He turned to Seras and gave her a hand signal—indicating she should protect Integra and Alessa. Seras nodded immediately, confirming she could handle it. Giving a small smile, Alex dismissed Leviathan and pulled a pair of silver knuckle-dusters from his pocket—slipping them onto his hands.

With the knuckle-dusters on, Alex was ready to fight in this chaotic three-way brawl: Anderson wanted to kill both him and Alucard, Alucard wanted to kill Anderson, and Alex himself stood in the middle—preventing anyone from dying while simultaneously beating Anderson into a state where he would finally listen to everything Alex wanted to say.

To be continued…

(And so here I am again, finishing before the next battle begins. Yes, yes, I am such a bad person. If I remember correctly, and I don’t remember it well, the plot should have included a battle, then the appearance of a rejuvenated Walter, and then the death of the Major and all the other idiots. But I’m so confused about the Hellsing plot that they will write it in the order I remember it. And what about what happens to Alucard’s power, and how her story was supposed to end? Well, hehe, this is a spoiler, but I will say this: I definitely don’t plan to kill her or anything like that. Something will just happen, and Alucard’s power will get out of control. Now, to the main thing: my editor never returned, and I know one of you is hiding him. Bring him back, and everything will be fine. Peace, love, and I will find you…)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep