Chapter 92: Monsters Slacking Off
Integra couldn't believe it—London had fallen in an instant.
The Air Force Command had lost contact. The Central Intelligence Control Headquarters was unresponsive. Communications with the London BTN Bureau were cut off. Civilian phone lines across Greater London were down. The Royal Air Force base had gone silent. The Navy Fleet Command was unreachable. The Intelligence Control Division of the National Defense Headquarters was incommunicado.
It was a terrifying sight. Since when had Britain been so utterly eroded?
Integra was both surprised and unsurprised. After all, who could truly resist the temptation of eternal life?
The war had begun.
Over the southern skies of London, several slow-moving airships entered the battlefield.
If they hadn't taken control of the Royal Air Force Command, these airships would never have made it into British airspace.
The plump Major gazed at London. After a long journey across the ocean, the Sea Lions had finally arrived.
"Gentlemen, I love war."
His glasses reflected the light, leaving only one of his eyes visible. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, yet his were eerily calm—devoid of madness.
Who said war maniacs had to be crazed lunatics?
Some were far more terrifying—war maniacs who were elegant, composed, and utterly collected.
"Gentlemen, I truly love war!"
"Gentlemen! I absolutely love war!"
"I love annihilation warfare! I love blitzkrieg! I love strike warfare! I love defensive warfare! I love encirclement warfare!"
"On plains! In streets! In trenches! Across grasslands!"
"In frozen tundras! In deserts! At sea! In the air! Beneath the soil! Over wetlands!"
"I love every war fought on Earth!"
"Gentlemen! I crave war—a war as hellish as possible!"
Iron, wind, thunder, and fire at their peak—three thousand worlds drowned in crows' slaughter!
For them, victory was secondary. Massacring and being massacred—that was the true essence of war.
Feigning a naval assault to lure the enemy in, infiltrating from within to dismantle defenses, and finally launching a full-scale assault on London—
A seamless blend of open schemes and hidden plots had finally allowed the Sea Lions to cross the ocean!
Lieutenant Zorin led five hundred vampires, splitting off from the Major. Their mission? To capture Seras alive.
The Major had told her that in order to prevent Chang Wei from ruining their plans, they needed Seras as a hostage.
And Zorin believed him.
Eager to partake in the London massacre—both to kill and to be killed—she had no patience for playing hide-and-seek with Seras and ordered an airdrop straight away.
But Seras wasn't the same as in the original timeline—she was no longer a half-vampire.
She didn't know why things had turned out this way, but none of that mattered.
She just had to kill.
These people—whether they were monsters or merely humans wearing monstrous disguises—were all the same.
And monsters could be slain.
A vampire soldier armed with an Iron Fist launcher fired straight at Seras.
Her right arm morphed into a whip blade, slicing through the projectile in a single flick. The razor-sharp edge intercepted the Iron Fist and, in the same motion, cleaved two vampires ahead of her in half.
Unlike Alex Mercer, who used his whip blade for long-range stabs, Seras wielded hers for slashing and lashing.
With terrifying power and an indestructible blade, she turned the battlefield into a slaughterhouse.
"What the hell is this monster?!"
Lieutenant Zorin's face darkened.
Dozens of vampires had been torn apart, and even she dared not get too close—her enemy was a monster far beyond any vampire.
The vampire soldiers opened fire frantically, trying to halt Seras's advance.
She grinned savagely, unfazed by the bullets striking her body. At this point, even automatic rifles couldn't break through her defense.
The Blacklight Virus was in a constant state of evolution.
Now, with a vampire template integrated, her rate of advancement had skyrocketed. Bullet resistance? That was just basic.
She thrust her hand into the ground.
"Grave Spike Execution!!!"
Seras loved this move. The Blacklight Virus extended underground, then erupted beneath her enemies. Massive spikes impaled and shredded them, a horrifyingly brutal and inescapable attack.
"Damn bastard!"
Lieutenant Zorin lost an arm.
She had barely dodged in time, thanks to a subordinate pushing her aside. That subordinate, however, was impaled, absorbed by the Blacklight Virus, and his biomass was reabsorbed into Seras's body.
Her face flushed red—an overwhelming wave of satisfaction coursed through her.
"Did I set the pleasure too high?"
Chang Wei, watching from afar, stroked his chin thoughtfully.
To ensure Seras wouldn't reject the act of absorbing biomass, he had modified the Blacklight Virus. Now, each absorption brought her a wave of pleasure—not an addictive, drug-like high, but more akin to the satisfying rush of intense exercise. Something she would come to crave.
But now, looking at her trembling legs, he wondered if he had overdone it.
Lieutenant Zorin, with her remaining arm, spread her palm wide. A sleeping eye within her hand snapped open, glowing an eerie shade of violet.
She pressed her palm against the ground.
At once, the tattoos across her body came to life, flowing along her arm and into the earth.
A special space formed entirely from intricate rune-like markings.
Seras had never encountered an illusion attack before—she had no idea how to counter it. She tried to strike the walls, but her attacks had no effect.
"Let's see what you fear the most!"
Lieutenant Zorin sneered.
Beyond illusions, she had another ability—mind reading.
She could peer into her enemies' deepest fears and manifest them into reality.
Chang Wei, though aware of this, made no move to intervene.
This was something Seras needed to experience.
Even if he saw her as a daughter, as a pet, he still wanted her to grow stronger.
Because once he left this world, who else would protect her?
Of course, he would never admit this was fatherly love.
After all, he was younger than Seras.
The Millennium Battalion unleashed carnage across London.
Chang Wei remained indifferent.
That was just the kind of person he was.
If this were Yan Dynasty—even if it wasn't his Yan Dynasty—he might have stepped in.
But the lives of foreigners?
Not his concern.
He wasn't a saint, nor a benevolent savior. He had no interest in world peace or global unity.
He was just an ordinary man with a narrow heart.
"So hurry up and row back already, Alucard."
Chang Wei gazed into the distance, where Alucard was still leisurely rowing his boat.
Meanwhile, at the Vatican, Maxwell awaited the Pope's orders.
By the time he received them and led the Airborne Crusaders to London…
Alucard would still be rowing.