In the underground bar.
The black man and his pack of vampires had Wanda and her two friends surrounded.
"What... what are these monsters?"
Anna and Lorraine were already sobbing in fear. If Wanda hadn't been holding their hands, they would've collapsed to the floor long ago.
"Vampires," Wanda whispered in reply.
The growing crowd pressing in made her shiver to the bone. Her own heart was full of fear, but their hands stayed locked together, palms slick with cold sweat.
"I think you should address us as the noble Vampire Clan. And I am their king. You may call me the Great Lord Lester."
The vampire—Lester—savored the terror on their faces.
He watched as Wanda let go of the girls' hands, crimson light flaring in her palms. He didn't seem concerned in the slightest.
"We have to get out of here!"
Wanda tried to use her power as a warning.
"That's impossible. As food, your only duty is to prepare yourselves. For you, this is an honor."
Milan stepped forward. She hadn't been hurt at all by the earlier attack; a vampire's physical resilience was something they took pride in.
"Don't think about resisting. This is your fate." The warmth she'd shown back at school was gone, replaced by cold, superior disdain.
"I'm not just going to sit here and die!"
Wanda pushed her roommates behind her, jaw tight, her expression hardening with resolve. The crimson glow in her eyes flared brighter.
Of course she was scared.
Inside, Wanda prayed desperately for Herman and her brother to hurry. She knew now how reckless she had been.
But outwardly, she couldn't show weakness.
"Everyone, look at our prey—seems she thinks she can resist us?" Lester sneered, utterly unbothered by Wanda's stance.
He was far stronger than a young vampire like Milan. Vampires grew in power with age, and he had lived for eight hundred years.
Earlier, he'd simply been careless.
Milan volunteered to handle Wanda.
Lester gladly allowed it.
Just as Milan bared her fangs to strike, and Wanda braced herself to fight to the death, a deafening roar split the air.
Rumble!
The furniture shook violently.
The vampires glanced around in confusion. Was New York actually having an earthquake?
"What the hell!"
Lester, ready to enjoy the spectacle, frowned in irritation at the disruption.
An earthquake?
As if that could kill vampires.
"Don't pay it any mind!" he barked, motioning for Milan to continue.
But the shaking only grew stronger, throwing the younger vampires into panic.
"Damn it!"
Lester glanced up—
BOOM!
A thunderous crash split the ceiling wide open.
A figure smashed straight through layers of cement and concrete, plummeting into the dark underground lair.
Lester had no time to dodge.
He was obliterated instantly. Even an eight-hundred-year-old vampire was nothing against a body descending at Mach 10. His form shattered like tofu against stone.
Dust and blood filled the air.
The entire bar went silent.
The vampires stared in shock, unable to believe their king had died so casually. The only sound left was the heavy bass still pounding through the speakers.
"No!"
Milan, perhaps bound to Lester by something more than loyalty, screamed and lunged into the cloud of dust—only for a hand to shoot out and clamp her throat.
"Looks like I wasn't too late."
Herman stepped from the haze, holding Milan aloft by the neck as if she were nothing more than a chick.
"So, Wanda... is this your idea of an after-school adventure?"
His tone dripped with mockery as his gaze fell on the girl rushing toward him.
With a flick of his arm, he hurled Milan aside.
She flew across the room, crashing through a pack of vampires and smashing through several walls with them.
"Sorry... I know I was wrong..."
Wanda hid pitifully behind Herman, dragging her two shaken but finally awakened roommates with her.
"Oh my God! It really is him! He's Homelander!"
Anna shouted, her voice trembling with excitement.
Lorraine's face lit up with the same thrill. "Your brother smashed through over ten meters of ground! God, he really does have that kind of power!"
These two girls had nerves of steel. Not only had they accepted that their roommate was a witch, they didn't even find it strange that her brother possessed powers straight out of a TV show.
They even tried to flirt with Herman, but he didn't let them get away with it.
"Take your friends and hide in the corner. Protecting them isn't wrong, but you should have sent me a signal immediately."
Luckily, Herman hadn't arrived too late.
Otherwise… this would have turned into a full-blown disaster. He knew Wanda had to learn how dangerous her recklessness could be, but the lecture would have to wait until later.
"I'll reflect on my mistakes," Wanda admitted.
She realized her fault, gave Herman her word, then pulled her two shaken friends toward the massive hole he'd created. Aside from a puddle of gore, there wasn't a single vampire left nearby.
In the earlier chaos, the vampires had clustered together, many already crushed into the rubble when Herman threw Milan.
Now, every last one of them stood across the dance floor, facing Herman.
When he first appeared, crashing down like a meteor, the spectacle had stunned the entire vampire horde. Not everyone could make an entrance with their own meteor strike, after all.
They had been frozen in shock for a long time.
Only now did they finally snap back to reality.
Their king… had really been killed by this man, and in such an absurdly casual way. The thought alone seemed almost laughable to them.
"Such powerful flesh..."
Though Herman's arrival and overwhelming might had shaken many of them, the aura he gave off intoxicated others.
They could sense it.
If they devoured this man, they might grow stronger than their king had ever been—perhaps even earn the title of a noble vampire.
The thought made greedy hunger flash in their eyes. They bared their fangs, growling, bodies twitching with the urge to pounce. But none dared to be the first.
"Vampires... filthy, lowly creatures."
Herman unleashed his Telekinesis.
One vampire was yanked into the air and dragged before him. He studied it with clinical curiosity.
"Damn you! What kind of power is this?!"
The vampire writhed in terror but couldn't move a muscle. Helpless, it could only watch as Herman forced open its jaws.
The tearing pain made it howl in agony.
"Pipes inside the teeth? So that's how you drain human blood?" Herman muttered, unimpressed after finding no other special organs. He raised a hand and snapped its neck with ease.
Lesser vampires didn't have much in the way of regeneration. With its head twisted dozens of times, this one had no chance of survival.
"Oops. Guess I used too much strength."
Herman offered the corpse a completely insincere apology.
Watching his back as he stood alone against hundreds of vampires, Wanda felt an unprecedented sense of safety.
"So then—who's next?" Herman's eyes swept the horde, his tone edged with mockery and disdain.
That contemptuous gaze finally pushed some of them over the edge. Vampires who saw themselves as nobles, higher beings accustomed to fear and worship, couldn't tolerate such insult.
"How dare you treat us with such disrespect!"
Most had just gorged on blood, their minds wild and drunk on it. With furious roars, they lunged at him. Their charge was like a drop of water into boiling oil, igniting the rest into a frenzy.
"How dare I, you say?"
Herman's power surged from within. He didn't wait for them—he met the charge head-on.
The ground beneath him shattered.
Dust blasted outward in a shockwave, ringing the spot where he had stood.
"What do you think gives me the right?"
Herman plowed through the swarm of vampires like a raging beast, unleashing a massacre. Every punch he threw reduced a vampire to shredded meat.
Dozens of them—gone in the blink of an eye.
The dance floor was littered with broken limbs, blood pooling across the ground. Only this time, the blood didn't belong to prey, but to the hunters.
The roles had been reversed. Now Herman was the only predator here, and in moments he had butchered dozens of them. Those who had held back were frozen with horror, their courage shattered.
"What kind of monster is this!?"
"A human… how can a human be this strong!?"
The arrogance and pride the vampires prided themselves on crumbled in an instant. Before such overwhelming might, they were nothing but ants.
"Enough!"
Milan wasn't dead. Supported by another vampire, she staggered out of the rubble and stood before the survivors.
"Human, take your girls and leave our home. We swear we won't pursue you. You don't want to start a war."
Her face was twisted with fear she tried desperately to conceal, hoping to use the weight of her entire clan to intimidate him.
But—
"War? You're lecturing me about war?" Herman calmly wiped the blood from his face and advanced toward her.
Something inside him ignited.
With every step, shards of stone and concrete lifted from the ground, hovering in midair before crumbling into dust.
Milan—and every vampire behind her—froze as if caught in a binding spell, unable to move. The sheer pressure pouring off Herman crushed down on them, stealing their breath.
"What made you think…" Herman stopped right in front of Milan, now stiff as a corpse. He looked into the eyes of the trembling, once-alluring vampire and let a mocking smile tug at his lips. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"…you could speak to me like that?"
His gaze burned, golden fire flickering within his eyes.
From this man, Milan felt a force unlike anything she had ever encountered. Not even a vampire prince exuded such suffocating might.
Terror bloomed inside her—raw, primal terror.
It spread like wildfire through her and the others, rooted not in reason but in instinct buried deep in their blood.
To Milan, the energy radiating from Herman was as scorching and unbearable as the midday sun.
In four centuries of unlife, she had only ever felt such dread once before—beneath the noonday sky.
"Human… do you really think you can stand against the entire Vampire Clan? Our… our progenitor is the great god Dracula!"
Milan tried to keep her composure, invoking Dracula's name as a threat. But her trembling voice betrayed her fear.
For all vampires, Dracula was the supreme existence. Before meeting the man before her, Milan had believed the same.
But now—as she felt the crushing weight of Herman's presence—her confidence wavered.
This man was like the blazing sun above the clouds, like a true god walking among mortals.
Could even the great Dracula prevail against someone like this? For a vampire, staring at a man who burned like the sun was the most terrifying thing imaginable.
The endless fear had already stripped away Milan's faith in Dracula. All she could do was pray that the very name might frighten Herman into restraint.
Yet—
"Dracula?"
Herman's scornful reply plunged Milan into despair.
He knew exactly what awaited them now—annihilation.
"Let him come find me and see what happens."
As the words left his lips, golden fire burst from Herman's eyes, sweeping across the dance floor like a storm of searing light. The darkness vanished, replaced with the brilliance of daylight.
Every vampire, Milan included, was reduced to ash.
Not a single one survived.
"Laser eyes! Oh my God, your brother really has laser eyes!" a girl squealed behind him, her voice thrilled like a crazed fan at a concert.
Wanda swayed dizzily from the shockwave. She too was stunned. Her big brother seemed to possess an endless arsenal of powers.
"Dracula… tch."
Herman truly didn't care about Dracula's supposed revenge. He doubted that the ancient vampire would step out of the shadows just to avenge a pack of disposable minions. And unlike these low-level vampires, Herman knew much more about Dracula.
In the Marvel Universe, Dracula was indeed a powerful vampire, but not the true progenitor. He merely possessed far greater strength than most of his kind—enhanced power, speed, stamina, reflexes, and a long-lived body.
Because he had sired so many offspring, countless ignorant vampires mistakenly believed he was the very first.
In truth, Dracula was only one of the earliest.
And like every vampire, he still needed blood to survive. Silver, crucifixes, even garlic could harm him.
So what reason did Herman have to fear such a being?
Dracula's only real advantage was his inability to die completely. Even the Five Great Gods of the Marvel Universe couldn't kill him outright. But before Herman, that so-called immortality was nothing but a joke.
His divinity granted him the power to devour gods and demons. Dracula's undying nature would only serve as fuel for Herman's divine fire.
He almost wished Dracula would come after him. Compared to dimensional demon lords like Mephisto or Dormammu, that guy would be child's play.
"Shame. Just a bunch of rejects. I doubt their progenitor even knows these strays exist."
Herman glanced at the wreckage underfoot, relieved he didn't have to clean it up. Most likely, New York's police would have work to do tonight.
As everyone knew—in the Marvel Universe, the NYPD's specialty was cleaning up the aftermath.