The battle at Father Anderson's side was reaching its climax.
Alucard's longsword pierced clean through Father Anderson's chest. In return, the bayonet wreathed in holy flame ran straight through Alucard's throat.
One was a pure human. The other, the near-immortal Vampire King.
For a human, trading wound for wound like this was a losing proposition. But for Alucard, bereft of his river of blood, this single blow was enough to force him into centuries of slumber.
"Alucard… humans will never be defeated by monsters."
Brilliant golden light swelled across Anderson's face. His eyes blazed like searchlights, bathing Alucard's pallid features in merciless radiance.
The scent of scorched flesh rose from Alucard's burning neck, sickening and acrid.
"Wait! Anderson! What are you doing?!"
True terror, mixed with raw disbelief, cracked Alucard's death-pale mask.
"Heinkel… tell the children to eat well, sleep well, and pray hard every day. I will keep watching over them… as always."
Every word cost Anderson everything he had left. The light pouring from him grew blinding.
He would not lose consciousness, but he would no longer be able to stay beside those beloved children.
Children are the future. Everything Anderson had ever done was to keep damned monsters from ever touching that future again.
To become an angel meant abandoning ordinary life forever. Angels have their own laws.
"Stop it, Anderson!"
Alucard's jaws gaped wide, revealing terrifying fangs as he roared. The longsword buried in Anderson's chest melted away beneath the erupting holy flame.
Heinkel and Yumie, trapped within the encirclement of blood, were on the verge of blacking out. Only the faintest, desperate cries escaped their throats; they could no longer even form their teacher's name.
A golden-orange war armor materialized over Anderson's body. The wings of Courage behind him flared to unprecedented size.
A majestic, tragic anthem rang through the air.
The human known as Father Anderson ceased to exist. Before them, he was ascending into a higher angel of High Heaven.
As the human most beloved by the Archangel of Courage, his transformation mirrored Impure's own rebirth.
The armor enveloped him completely until, at last, the Helm of Courage settled upon his head.
The hymn swelled, shattering the chill dread Alucard imposed as Vampire King.
Scorching, fearless light burst forth. Anderson had become an angel beneath Courage's banner.
In a flash of glory he appeared beside his two disciples.
The holy flames no longer burned crimson; they had become pure golden light.
Their wounds closed swiftly, yet their stamina did not return. Courage, after all, is not an angel of healing; his grace is only skin-deep.
"Anderson! Anderson!"
The blood around Alucard boiled and thrashed. He bit deep into his own fingers, rage and grief made manifest.
"I will not lose to any monster! Only humans can defeat monsters!"
The words hissed through clenched fangs, shrill and piercing.
His long black hair whipped wildly, a storm born of betrayed expectation.
"Alucard's finally drinking. How exciting! Though everything Walter worked for just went up in smoke. I really thought he was the one who'd pull this off," Schrödinger murmured from the sidelines, cruel smile widening. He drew the dagger he always carried.
"Nyaa!"
With his final cat-like mewl, he drove the blade through his own throat and severed his head entirely.
The slight body plummeted, landing in the pool of blood below.
That blood surged into a crimson river, flowing straight toward Alucard.
The vampire Alucard would never grant a monster the satisfaction of killing him. He would die only by human hands.
No one knew how many lives swam in his blood river. No one knew what Alucard was about to become.
Once he absorbed Schrödinger's blood, he would be everywhere and nowhere at once.
And then Alucard would simply cease to exist.
That was the Millennium Battalion's ultimate objective; though the path had twisted, the final step proceeded perfectly.
"Now," Anderson intoned, voice muffled and devoid of emotion, still adjusting to his new angelic nature. "Let the battle between two monsters begin."
"I will not lose," Alucard answered, straightening as the blood river rushed to meet him.
"I won't let you return to your peak. It ends here."
Blazing heat radiated from Angel Anderson; the incoming blood evaporated into red mist before it could touch him.
He advanced with heavy, deliberate steps. Each footfall left a burning golden imprint on the ground.
"Then die!"
Alucard discarded sword and guns. His body turned pitch-black; countless eyes opened across it.
In the span of a single blink he became a creature of nothing but eyes, pupils dilating and contracting wildly. He charged the fully armored Anderson.
Just like the first time they ever met.
They collided like twin cataclysms. Blood vaporized into scarlet fog; holy light scorched the air.
The shockwave rolled outward.
Alucard's claws punched through Anderson's chest; shattered armor began regenerating in halos of light.
Anderson's fist exploded Alucard's head. Holy fire crawled over the vampire's body, devouring it.
Yet the eyes remained wide open in the flames. Gouts of blood blossomed into the shapes of the lives they once were.
Valentin Yang, face twisted in terror, swung his kukri at Anderson. Tubalcain Alhambra's cards shattered against angelic plate.
Anderson swatted them aside like gnats.
"No matter how many lives you possess, Courage never falters!"
He brought both arms together like a hammer, smashing the claw embedded in his torso. The severed limb fell as corrupted sludge.
Anderson's wounds healed in an instant.
As long as Courage endured, his chosen would never tire.
Anderson had become Alucard's greatest threat.
"Cough… cough…"
Walter awoke.
Dense black radiance poured from him; the battle inside his body was decided.
Mephisto's fragment had triumphed. Angel Gabriel was expelled in a burst of azure light and vanished.
"Perfect timing," the fragment smiled.
Walter's body began twisting into something monstrous.
"How I despise all of this! How utterly revolting!"
"Why am I merely a fragment? Why does only the main body get to wield the authority of Hell's Lord?"
"I will become the true King of Hell!"
With a deafening roar, Mephisto's fragment sprouted segmented arachnid legs. His floating spine lashed out, attacking Anderson.
"MEPHISTO!"
On Mars, Impure, guiding the descent of High Heaven, bellowed in fury yet could not move. The ritual could not be rushed.
The fragment no longer needed to be called a fragment.
At this moment, no being on the planet was more qualified to bear the name "Mephisto."
The King of Hatred, reborn imperfect yet alive in this world!
Given just a little more time, he would reclaim his full power and drown the world in hatred.
First, he would grind away the will of that pathetic lesser demon, and right before him stood the perfect whetstone.
(The chapter ends)
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