Suddenly, the entire cavern trembled.
A deep, grinding rumble echoed through the stone, as if the mountain itself had begun to scream. Cracks spread across the walls, dust and debris raining down in choking clouds.
Then—
From beneath tons upon tons of stone, that damned bird rose once more.
Its grotesque form forced its way into the open, tearing through rock as though it were nothing more than paper. Its many eyes gleamed with malice, its twisted beak opening in a silent, unnatural shriek.
Alucard didn't hesitate.
He moved.
Blood surged around him, forming into jagged weapons as he launched himself toward the abomination.
But—
His body gave out.
The pain finally caught up to him.
His vision blurred.
Then darkened.
A sharp, unbearable pressure built behind his eyes—
And suddenly, they began to bleed.
He staggered.
Collapsed.
His heart pounded wildly, struggling to keep up with the immense strain he had placed on it.
He had been healing.
Moving.
Fighting.
Manipulating blood at a constant rate.
All at once.
His body couldn't keep up anymore.
Blood began to pour from every orifice—his eyes, nose, mouth—spilling out uncontrollably.
His thoughts became sluggish.
Fragmented.
It felt like his brain itself was… bleeding.
So this is what it feels like to reach your limit…
His body hit the ground.
Cold.
Heavy.
Distant.
Through the fading haze of his consciousness, he saw one final image—
Sunny.
Leaping forward.
A blade flashing.
Driving straight into the creature's skull.
Alucard let out a weak, breathless chuckle.
"...Good job… man…"
Then—
Darkness.
---
There was a strange sensation.
Movement.
He couldn't see.
Couldn't move.
But he could feel.
Arms beneath him.
Carrying him.
Small arms.
Very small.
…Why does this feel so humiliating…?
---
Then—
He woke up.
Or at least… it felt like waking up.
Something was wrong.
He couldn't move.
His body felt distant, heavy, like it didn't belong to him anymore.
A moment passed before realization struck.
This is a dream.
It should have been enough.
That awareness alone should have shattered the illusion.
But it didn't.
He remained trapped.
Then he noticed it.
Fog.
Thick.
Oppressive.
Endless.
At first glance, it resembled the grey fog of the Hollow Mountains.
But this—
This was different.
It was a sickly, violet hue, swirling lazily through the cavern like a living thing.
Every breath he took made his thoughts slow.
Thick.
Difficult.
His mind felt like it was sinking into something viscous… something that resisted every attempt at clarity.
His eyelids drooped.
Heavy.
Almost impossible to keep open.
Still, he forced himself to look around.
The cohort was there.
All of them.
Sunny.
Nephis.
Effie.
Kai.
Caster.
Cassie.
None of them moved.
Not even a twitch.
Not even a breath.
Alucard couldn't tell if they were unconscious…
Or dead.
A strange sense of déjà vu crept into his mind.
…This already happened.
Didn't it?
But something didn't add up.
Wasn't I just bleeding out?
Now…
His body felt calm.
Too calm.
Unnaturally calm.
Then—
The fog began to part.
Slowly.
Silently.
And standing before him—
Was a boy.
No older than fifteen.
At first glance, he looked human.
But the longer Alucard stared, the more wrong that assumption felt.
Short black hair framed his face, though the back was tied into a loose, almost careless ponytail.
His skin was pale.
Not the natural pale of someone who lacked sunlight.
But something closer to grey porcelain.
Perfect.
Unblemished.
Artificial.
His eyes—
Violet.
Not merely in color.
But in depth.
They seemed to pull at Alucard's gaze, like a quiet abyss hidden behind something beautiful.
He wore armor.
If it could even be called that.
It looked like a void given shape—dark, shifting, almost consuming the light around it.
And draped over it was a flowing purple cape.
It moved… strangely.
Not with the air.
But as if it existed in a space slightly removed from reality itself.
Like a piece of the cosmos had been torn free and wrapped around his shoulders.
He was—
Beautiful.
Unnaturally so.
Like something sculpted with the sole purpose of perfection.
Not human beauty.
Something else.
Something unsettling.
The boy stepped forward.
Each movement was smooth.
Effortless.
Deliberate.
As if he had all the time in the world.
He stopped in front of Alucard.
Then—
He smiled.
"Ah… you're awake."
His voice was soft.
Gentle.
Warm.
And yet—
There was something deeply wrong with it.
It didn't echo.
Didn't carry.
It simply… appeared in Alucard's mind.
As though spoken directly into his thoughts.
"I was beginning to wonder if you would ever wake up," the boy continued, tilting his head slightly. "That would have been… disappointing."
He extended a hand.
Slowly.
Almost curiously.
"Half-human," he said, studying Alucard with open interest. "Shouldn't you take my hand? I've heard that's what your kind does… when helping each other up."
Alucard hesitated.
Every instinct he had screamed at him not to trust this being.
Not to move.
Not to speak.
Not to exist in the same space as this thing.
And yet—
He reached out.
Their hands met.
The sensation—
Made no sense.
It was cold.
Burning.
And completely numb.
All at once.
Like touching something that shouldn't exist.
The young man smiled and asked Alucard a question.
"What do they call you Half-human."
Alucard pulled himself up slowly, never breaking eye contact.
"…Alucard," he said after a moment. "That's what they call me."
Alucard didn't know why he chose to trust this guy with his name, or why he even chose to listen to him at all.
The boy blinked.
Then placed a finger against his chin, as if deep in thought.
"Alucard…" he repeated softly.
Then he smiled again.
Wider this time.
"Oh."
"How interesting."
"You can call me Lysander."
The name hit Alucard like a stone dropped into still water.
Something about it felt… wrong.
Heavy.
Important.
Dangerous.
He swallowed.
"…What are you?" Alucard asked carefully.
Lysander's smile widened just a fraction too much.
"What am I?"
He turned away slightly, as if considering the question.
Then answered lightly:
"Oh, I have many titles."
"The new King of the Underworld."
"The Sinner of Sloth."
He glanced back over his shoulder.
Eyes gleaming faintly.
"But you can just call me Lysander."
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Alucard's mind reeled.
…A sinner?
He had encountered two before.
Both of them had felt like walking disasters.
Existences that could erase him with a thought.
And yet—
This boy…
Seemed harmless.
Curious.
Almost innocent.
Which somehow made him far more terrifying.
Alucard forced himself to think.
This is him.
The one who did this.
The fog.
The paralysis.
The unconscious cohort.
They were no longer in the cavern.
They were back at the camp where they had last rested.
Moved.
Without anyone noticing.
This being—
Lysander—
Had done all of it effortlessly.
Which meant one thing.
He is a threat.
A massive one.
Before Alucard could speak again, Lysander began walking.
Slow.
Unhurried.
And without thinking—
Alucard chose to follow.
Lysander's lips curled slightly.
"Hmm…" he hummed softly. "You're quite obedient."
Then, without turning around, he asked:
"So tell me… Alucard."
"You seem rather weak for a sinner."
"What rank are you?"
Alucard hesitated.
Then answered anyway.
"…Dormant."
Lysander stopped.
Then—
He laughed.
The sound was bright.
Beautiful.
And utterly wrong.
The entire cavern trembled with it.
"A dormant human?" he repeated, turning slowly. "And yet… your father was that fearsome?"
He shook his head lightly.
"How unfortunate."
Alucard frowned.
"…What do you mean by that?"
Lysander blinked.
Confused.
Genuinely confused.
"You don't know?"
His head tilted slightly.
"That's… strange."
"How did you become a sinner of his lineage, then?"
Alucard's expression darkened.
He didn't like this.
Didn't like being spoken to as if he was missing something obvious.
Didn't like the way Lysander acted as though he already knew everything.
"…Explain," Alucard said coldly. "What does my father have to do with anything?"
Lysander brightened instantly.
"Oh!"
"You really don't know."
"That makes this much more fun."
He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing slowly in a small circle around Alucard.
"You see, it's quite simple."
"My mother was a sinner."
"So I inherited her lineage."
He stopped directly in front of him.
Smiling.
"And you…"
"You inherited your father's."
Alucard's thoughts raced.
Dracula?
Feltan?
None of it made sense.
He had multiple lineages.
So why—
Why was Lysander so certain?
"…Then tell me," Alucard said slowly. "Who do you think my father is?"
Lysander froze.
Then—
Very slowly—
A grin spread across his face.
Not warm.
Not friendly.
Something sharper.
Something… knowing.
"Oh, that's obvious," he said softly.
He leaned in slightly.
Close enough that Alucard could feel that impossible temperature radiating from him.
Hot.
Cold.
Nothing.
All at once.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper—
"Your father…"
A pause.
A smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"…is the Sinner of Envy."