For a moment, the world was still.
The tension between the two men was so thick it felt like the air itself had stopped moving. Even the rustle of the leaves seemed to hold its breath. Then—
Snap.
A stick fell from a nearby tree. The instant it struck the earth, the world exploded into motion.
Enel's body blurred. Lightning swirled around his arm in a blinding torrent as he bent low, the ground cracking beneath his feet. In one smooth, deliberate motion, he thrust his palm forward—
"300 Million Volts: Chidori."
The air screamed. The technique, stolen from another world yet adapted to his own, came alive in his grasp. A spearhead of pure lightning coalesced in his hand, sharp enough to pierce steel, hot enough to vaporize water on contact. This wasn't the lazy, stagnant thunder of the original Enel—this was raw, living power, deliberately pushed to imitate the primal fury of a real storm.
Actual lightning in nature could reach billions of volts. To only be wielding 300 million was irritating, but he understood the cause. The original Enel had squandered his potential. His body was powerful—but unrefined. This body, however, would change.
The Chidori demanded speed, and Enel delivered. Before Alucard could blink, the thunder god was already upon him, the blade of electricity thrust toward his chest.
But Alucard's form flickered, dissolving into a roiling haze of shadow and blood mist.
"Dark Composition," he intoned calmly, his voice resonating like a deep echo.
It was the first time the crew had heard the name of that eldritch ability—the unnatural transformation that allowed his body to become something no longer truly flesh.
Yet this was not a Logia's lazy, reflexive intangibility. This was a Mythical Zoan, and that meant every shift into mist, every dispersal of his form, required conscious willpower. Unlike a Logia, it was not a constant shield—it was an active art.
Unfortunately for him, Enel's lightning wasn't "conventional" by any measure. When the Chidori cut through his haze, the edges of the mist sparked and burned away in searing streaks of light. Pieces of the darkness tore apart under the raw voltage.
Enel followed up without hesitation, raising his hand.
"El Thor."
The bolt cracked downward from the heavens, hammering the ground with deafening force.
Alucard responded—not with evasion, but calculation. His eyes glowed faint crimson as his telekinetic will gripped the environment. Trees, boulders, and shards of the earth tore free from the ground, swirling upward to form a barrier above him. The debris sizzled as lightning struck, buying him a few precious seconds to reposition.
It was enough.
From the mist, his voice rang out.
"Baskerville."
The darkness writhed and gathered, shaping itself into something massive, something primal. At first, the form shifted between shapes—too many legs, then too few, heads sprouting before dissolving, an almost Lovecraftian blur of possibilities—until it settled.
A colossal black wolf emerged, its fur an endless void, its eyes a molten red glare that pierced through even the thickest shadows. It radiated a predator's malice, an apex killer's calm.
The crew recoiled instinctively at the sight, though Enel and Escanor remained steady.
Alucard spoke in a measured tone, almost as if delivering a lecture:
"Three centuries. That's how long I have walked this world. The Batto-Batto no Mi: Model Vampire grants more than longevity—it grants the dominion over death itself. Those whose lives I have taken… or whose blood I have consumed until their eventual end… I may call them back. I may wear their souls as my hounds."
Tatsumaki's eyes narrowed. Hinata's breath caught. Erza's grip tightened around her swords.
Escanor, however, merely chuckled.
"Then it must have a weakness."
Alucard smiled faintly.
"Sharp one. Yes. They must be weaker than I am… or killed by my hand directly."
Enel tilted his head, lightning dancing lazily across his shoulders.
"Then why not summon all of them?"
For a heartbeat, Alucard froze. His gaze sharpened—not at the question, but at the implication.
Enel's tone was light, but his eyes were blades.
"It's because they're either the source of your regeneration… or because you can only call them all at once near—or at—midnight."
The vampire laughed, low and dangerous, but it wasn't mockery—it was respect.
"…Both."
Baskerville lunged, the ground shattering under its bulk. Enel ducked and twisted between its snapping jaws, the massive beast's fangs grazing past him like guillotine blades.
The grand clock in the nearby town struck midnight.
Something shifted in the air—an oppressive, suffocating weight descended upon the clearing. The crew felt it instantly, the sheer presence of death pouring from Alucard. Escanor's eyes widened in rare recognition… and respect.
"He's as strong now… as I am at Noon."
Alucard raised his arms, and the world changed.
From his Dark Composition poured a tide of shapes—thousands upon thousands of spectral figures, each wreathed in black-and-red aura. They filled the clearing, the treeline, the sky itself.
Sea Kings. Ancient warriors. Fishmen. Marines. Pirates. Nobles. Even Celestial Dragons. Every one of them wore the same soulless gaze, the same killing intent.
The River of Death had been unleashed.
This was no standard Mythical Zoan. This was a Mythical Zoan wielded by a Conqueror's Haki user, pushed to a terrifying limit unseen in recorded history.
The crew instinctively moved to join the fight, but Enel raised his hand.
"Stand down."
They froze. His meaning was clear: this was not just combat—it was recruitment. And pride. To overwhelm Alucard by numbers would destroy any chance of bringing him aboard.
Alucard grinned, knowing the danger of underestimating him. But then—
The sky cracked.
Enel's own Conqueror's Haki erupted.
It wasn't just strong—it was overwhelming, smothering. It pressed against the crew's chests like a mountain and tore through the River of Death like a hurricane through fog. Specters screamed soundlessly as they dissolved, forced back into the mist.
Only the strongest—those whose power nearly rivaled Alucard's own—remained. The rest, thousands upon thousands, vanished in an instant.
Alucard's eyes widened. He had intended to distract Enel long enough to strike while the captain was overwhelmed. That plan was dead before it began.
Lightning flashed again. Faster than Alucard's Observation Haki could register, Enel appeared in front of him, 350 million volts of lightning and Armament Haki surging through his fist.
The blow struck squarely against Alucard's head.
The impact hurled him back nearly a hundred meters, the ground tearing apart beneath his sliding, burning body before he crashed into a shattered boulder.
Enel's voice followed him.
"Your river has another weakness. While you summon it… your body is exposed."
Midnight passed. The deathly aura receded. Alucard's River of Death collapsed entirely, returning to the mist.
His consciousness faded, the last image in his mind being Enel standing over him—not with mockery, but with the satisfied, calm certainty of a man who had proven himself superior.
The duel was over. Midnight had struck and passed, and for the first time in almost 3 centuries, Alucard had known defeat.