"Master!" Isaac calls out when he finds the looming figure of Dracula making its way down the halls.

"Isaac? I presume you are here to inform me of the progress in regard to the assaults and… the unexpected turns." The king of vampires says in a curious voice underlaid with the same tiredness that the Forgemaster found growing ever greater since the war against humanity had started.

"Yes. We were betrayed at Braila. I did not recognize their colours, but our forces were ambushed by vampire soldiers." Falling into step next to his master, Isaac begins to catch Dracula up on the happenings of the past hours.

"What colours did they wear?" The king of vampires asks calmly, sure that he'll recognize their allegiance easy enough and in turn confirm who it is that dared to betray him.

"Black with white trim." Came the answer from his trusted aid and friend.

"That's the livery of Styria. Carmilla has made her move." Confirming his suspicion, Dracula's face pulls into a frown.

"Yes, I think so too, but there seems to be something else going on." The Forgemaster agrees, having had his own suspicion of the latecomer that so suddenly united the council under herself.

"The light." The king of vampire's mutters.

"We heard the soldiers die outside the gate. It seems that whoever is responsible for it, is not on her side, or simply doesn't care about his allies." Isaac explains with a serious expression.

Falling into deep thought, the two figures make their way through the castle's long corridors.

Stopping suddenly, the king of vampires turns to look at Isaac.

"I fear there is something much worse afoot out there than a simple woman growing ambitious. When the light appeared and burned those soldiers, I saw something very concerning." Meeting his masters gaze, the Forgemaster couldn't help but start feeling nervous.

"Something was collecting the souls of the dead." The old vampire reveals what he had witnessed from his chamber before the shutters closed.

"Collecting souls?" Isaac asks in surprise before clear concern flashes through his eyes.

After all, not even he, a Forgemaster who literally resurrects dead bodies has the need to collect souls.

What he does is forge bodies into suitable shapes and then open a channel between this world and hell, through which a soul trapped in the infernal plane can travel and possess the prepared body under his guidance.

The magic of the Forgemaster permeates the prepared body while the soul escaping hell soaks it up when traveling through the channel. It is what binds them together and in turn guarantees the created creature's loyalty to its creator.

"Yes. Because of my research of the forbidden arts and infernal plane it was necessary for me to pick up a trick or two that allows me to see souls. It is not of much use most of the time, but in situations like now, it turns out to be quite valuable." The old vampire explains with narrowed eyes.

"It is rather concerning that there is something collecting souls outside of my castle." Nodding in agreement to his master's words as they once again begin to walk towards the main hall, Isaac's expression grows dark.

"There aren't many kinds of magics that require purely souls, and those that do are elaborated rituals of the darkest kind. But that is what unsettles me the most, there aren't any signs of such a ritual taking place outside." The king of vampires says in a low tone.

"If not a ritual, then what could it be? Some kind of evil artifact, or …" Trailing off as a sudden realization came over him, the Forgemaster's eyes widen as he quickly turns his gaze to the tall figure walking alongside him.

"I fear so too my dear friend. When we arrive in the hall, be prepared to face a true creature of hell." Dracula warns his long-time friend with a steely look in his eyes.

Taking his master's words very seriously, the Forgemaster made sure to bring over one of his night-creature and orders it to gather up the others for additional support.

Watching this with an unmoving expression, the old vampire has his own thoughts.

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'I hope this is just me being paranoid… but… I can't get rid of this foreboding feeling.' Looking down, he stretches his pale hand out from underneath his black cloak and looks at it.

'It is unlikely that a demon from hell is responsible for this. After all, hell has become a prison, and its demons are wardens that fight tooth and nail when it comes to letting anything go. Only Forgemaster's are capable of reaching down there and pull the trapped souls out from it.' Clenching the hand into a fist, his crimson eyes seem to pierce through the pale skin and stare directly at the thick, dark crimson blood lazily moving through his veins before he lowered it back under his cloak.

The feeling of tiredness that had appeared shortly after the start of his crusade against humankind grew ever heavier over the past days and weights heavy on his mind.

Silently he curses the world for bringing him nothing but trouble and disappointment.

'I fear this demon is one of them. A herald of the abyss.' The thought made the king of vampire sigh in resignation, as he realized that he has to make sure that this demon is taken care of… just like the one he met oh so long ago.

Unlike the spawns of hell that would only stay for a short period of time in this plane to slaughter everyone involved in their summoning before returning to where they came from, the ones hailing from the abyss represent an enormous and… ancient… threat, to the world at large.

If a strong enough one manages to enter the world and is left up to his own devices, there exists the terrifying possibility that it will summon more of its own kin to build an army that would surpass even his own within mere weeks and allow them to gain a foothold. In such a case, the world would be pretty much doomed as the battle of old would once again ravage this world.

It doesn't help that they are the kind of demons that can consume souls in order to grow in strength, giving each and every one of them an endless motivation to start wars wherever they go and cause endless death to harvest them.

'Let's hope it's just a lucky middle-rank demon that got full of himself or is dumb enough to think he can take on everything alone.' Dracula thinks, confident in his own ability to once again best one of those dark beings that managed to sneak back into this world.

He and his trusted friend and aid, arrive in the main hall which is covered in a tense silence.

'If we're lucky then this one is the same as the last guy. Letting its pride and greed take over and refuse to summon more of its kind in order to monopolize as many souls as possible for itself. If that is the case, then I just need to send it back to where it came from.' Drawing all the eyes onto himself as soon as he arrived, he calmly steps over to his throne.

'But if it is a high-rank one, things will become difficult. In the worst case I will be forced to reach out to the church and convince them to call upon the heavens for assistance.' Standing in front of it, he turns to look at the silent gate with a deep frown as his senses honed over centuries manage to pick up something waiting beyond.

As if to answer his gaze, the creature outside makes its move.

Eyes widening a bit, Dracula quickly calls out to his subjects.

"Quick! Retreat from the gate!" He warns, having felt the large amount of magic being gathered in front of it.

The faster one's reacted immediately and leap back, but those few that didn't got caught up in what followed.

*BOOOOMM!*

The large double doors blast open and allow a sea of flames to flood into the hall, searing and charring their flesh.

"AAAHH!" "ARGH!" HISSS!!"

Screams fill the air together with the smell of burning flesh as over a dozen soldiers and night-creatures painfully burn to death.

Now covered in large orange flames, the entrance looked like a gate to hell with a bright yellow background where seemingly the light of day shines through the open doors.

With an arm before his face to shield it from the heat of the fire, the narrowed eyes of Isaac stare into the flames and manage to make out a shifting silhouette making its way through them.

He feels nervousness rise within himself as the outlines of the creature become clearer and revealed more of its inhuman features.

Four arms extend from its tall frame and wings seem to flare out behind the head adorned with a pair of horns, and what he could only guess were some kind of antenna's.

It holds a spear in one hand and a seemingly coiled up whip in another while the digits of the remaining two are repeatedly clenching and unclenching.

Raising his other hand holding his knife, Isaac's action is mimicked by all the others between the intruded and Dracula.

The council members and soldiers brandish their weapons while the night-creatures growl and hiss, baring their fangs and flexing their claws.

Witnessing the entire scene, the king of vampire's remains stone-faced, his crimson eyes carefully sizing up this uninvited guest as it steps out of the flames.

Whisps of fire keep licking on the creatures towering form but don't seem to do any harm.

Standing at a good two meters, the clearly female being sports many insectile features, such as black chitinous armour that adores her six limbs and torso, with each digit ending in sharp claws.

Fern like antennas lazily sway on her head covered in white hair and a pair of moth wings, seemingly attached to the back of it, spread out behind her.

Other than that, her clothes are of a strange style that Dracula has never seen before, making her look very out of place.

Really, the only actual feature that made her infernal nature clear are the two black, curved horns jutting out of her forehead, and maybe her high heat tolerance.

Meeting the two glowing green orbs surrounded by inky blackness, Dracula's frown deepens as he begins to have a sneaking suspicion that things would be very different dealing with this demon compared to the one that he had faced before.

In respond to his gaze, the demoness's lips flanked by a pair of mandibles start to stretch into a grin as she disregards everyone standing between her and him.

Ignoring the silent taunt, his gaze falls onto something else that had caught his attention.

The silver whip clenched in the chitin clad fingers jolts awake plenty of memories from all across the past century in the old vampire's mind.

'The Morningstar whip? That's the Belmont family's heirloom! How did this thing get a hold of such an item? And why does she not suffer from the effects such a blessed weapon should have on her kind?' Questions fill his mind, and he became a lot more alert of this strange specimen.

Waiting till the demonic creature stops halfway across the hall and a good ten meters away from his subjects, the king of vampires finally speaks up.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance, spawn of the abyss. But is it arrogance or confidence that led you to act like this in MY home!" Vlad Dracula Tepes addresses the uninvited guest with a stern voice, deciding to keep his questions to himself for now and instead focus on assessing the threat of this strange demon that dared to barrage into his castle like this.

Flaring his previously subdued power, everyone present suddenly feels a heavy pressure engulf their bodies and minds.

Not only that, but the shadows filling the castle hall start to grow deeper and darker, crawling across the floor, up the walls and along the ceiling in response to the terrifying aura released by the ancient creature of the night.

'So, this is his true power.' Isaac thinks to himself shocked while glancing over his shoulder up to his master as cold sweat runs down his back.

He isn't the only one. All the soldiers, night-creatures and even council members turned to look at the tall man as they are forcefully reminded why it is that this man stood alone and uncontested at the peak of their kin, claiming the title of king for himself.

And yet.

Despite the unbridled aura of Dracula flooding the hall, the intruder remained undeterred.

Not only that, but the grin on the demoness's face grew even larger till the skin on her face is stretched into an inhuman visage as the glow of her eye becomes more intense by the second.

With a truly demonic grin splitting her face, Juniper raises her spear and points it at Dracula.

"Vlad Dracula Tepes! King of Vampires! Master over the Arcane and Schooler of Science! I have come to kick your undead ass back into your grave!" The moth declares loudly before releasing her conquerors haki that burst out of her and slams against the old vampire's aura.