Jonathan, however, didn't go on the attack.

He assumed a fighting stance, holding the sword in both hands, the blade parallel to the ground. And he simply waited for his enemy, who merely stared at him for a while, waiting, in turn, for him to be the first to act.

Or perhaps confused. It was hard to guess what was going on in the head of a madman, even after seeing his past memories. In any case, he eventually realized that someone would have to break this impasse. And it wasn't going to be him.

He didn't even draw his sword. That monster came after him, running at high speed, as if shot out of a cannon, bare-handed. And what did it matter? As he had said, he was a monster in a very literal sense, as well as figuratively. His whole body was a weapon.

Jonathan was ready to take him on.

When Adam was on him, he moved to the side. Just a little. The movement of his sword was just as light and subtle. It cut a tendon as it passed, and the monster went down rolling pathetically.

When he realized what had happened, lying there on the ground, the Count, Adam, did nothing but laugh.

What was so funny?

Now he could do it. Now he could face him as an equal and kill him.

Maybe he didn't care about the outcome. Maybe, after all these years, he was begging for the peace of death. But that was just nonsense because he had too much time on his hands.

He shouldn't be laughing. Who wasn't afraid of death?

Everything about Adam was infuriating.

Adam stood up, still laughing. He couldn't stop laughing, that bastard. It was a jovial, soft laugh, like he was pretending this was a nice reunion or something, like he was laughing at something he'd said while sitting at the dinner table.

Like?

This lunatic actually thought of him as someone like that. Even though they had nothing in common.

But the madman wasted no time. He switched with menacing immediacy to combat mode. He didn't draw his sword, even now. In fact, he only repeated what he had done before.

Throwing himself directly at him with bare hands. Was he so eager to stumble over the same stone? Worked for him just fine. Jonathan didn't want to just kill him, even if it was for the best, even if he could end this with one good blow.

He wanted to humiliate him. He wanted to tear him apart.

To make him suffer.

If Jonathan ended this so quickly, it wouldn't be a proper revenge.

Okay, come at me, he thought. So, so full of confidence. But he wasn't able to repeat the success from before.

He stepped away like then, the minimum movement necessary to dodge. Yet one of his hands closed around his neck like a bear trap. He thought, it's over, he's going to snap it, it's over. It wouldn't be that easy, of course, he wouldn't be finished even so.

But Adam didn't even try.

Instead, he threw him through a wall. Yeah, not against. Through.

Jonathan fell next to the rubble. Clouds of dust passed over him, winding their way through.

His lungs filled with that same dust.

He coughed several times, hard.

As Adam approached. Intact. Without even having unsheathed his sword yet. But things were much more even than they had been at Elesbury. He could see his movements clearly, he could react.

He could kill him.

He would kill him.

Nothing would make sense if he failed even after he had arrived t

Nothing would make sense if he failed even after having come this far. The gods hadn't just given him a second chance, he was already on his fourth. The fourth and the last, he knew. He wouldn't come back from this one if he didn't manage to finish him off.

For better or worse, one way or another, this was the end.

"What is it that you desire so much that you continue to oppose me? Not the love of a family that you cannot revive. No, no, no, no, because I feed the flames with them. Is it peace? If you want peace so badly, you can close your eyes and let me kill you. Though, of course, I don't want to. Nor will I."

"You must love your own voice," Jonathan said slowly, each word an effort, perhaps a greater effort than moving in the first place. But he had a feeling he had to do it, for whatever it was worth. Spit every last word in his heart. "It must be because you're used to people just shutting up when you talk. Or beg. There would be no point in explaining anything to you, I've already told you, you can't understand. You have no idea. Not the slightest idea."

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As he spoke, the monster approached. Step by step. Of course.

Of course. He had all the time in the world, he thought.

"What if I want to do it?"

And he was already on top of him, practically. Jonathan hadn't moved from the spot, hadn't gotten up from the floor. He had only concentrated on answering him as if it were a meaningful conversation.

"What the fuck do I care?"

Well, words were carried away by the wind, but at least it had served as a distraction.

For what?

Quite simple.

Jonathan swung his sword.

Just like that he took one of Adam's arms. Not the whole of it, of course, he was in too awkward a position for that. But half of it, yes, maybe a little more.

A big grin split his face and his body.

Just like that he took one of Adam's arms. Not the whole thing, of course, he was in too awkward a position for that. But half of it, yes, maybe a little more.

A big smile split his face and his body filled with adrenaline. It couldn't be any other way.

This was the first time he'd hurt that bastard for real, after all. How could he not be so excited he could barely contain himself?

Adam's lack of reaction to losing an arm didn't spoil the high in the least. That is to say, his face contorted in pain, but that was about it. It didn't regale him with a cry of pain or even a sickening groan. Whatever.

He was satisfied, anyway.

Jonathan backed away, still on the ground, crawling on his hands. He had thought Adam had thrown him into someone's house, but from what he could see out of the corner of his eyes it looked like a bar.

Abandoned.

Evacuated no, he doubted he'd bothered. Although it made little difference to him, to tell the truth. In any case he didn't give a shit.

Adam kept walking slowly. Chasing him as he left a thick trail of blood behind him. Blood flowing from the stump of his arm. Nothing compared to all the blood he'd spilled throughout his damned life, of course.

Jonathan simply crawled under a table, moving to the other side, still crawling on his hands backwards.

The table was in Adam's way too, of course, and he wasn't used to accommodating others. To getting out of the way. So, of course, he grabbed it with one hand and pushed it out of the way, throwing it out the window. The bar window exploded, the table cracked against the floor, landing noisily, but that was lost in the general chaos of the war outside. No one gave a shit, no one noticed.

If only they knew that the outcome of the war was being decided here and now.

And it wasn't going to be in favor of this monster, whatever it cost. No, no way.

He had to stand up. He'd been thrown through a wall, he'd landed badly and now his whole body ached, his legs were shaking. But it hadn't been that bad.

It was fear, above all, that had kept him down.

The fear of seeing him coming towards him. Slowly but surely. A monster, no, an unstoppable nightmare. But no more.

He did it.

Jonathan stood up, brandishing the sword again. No matter how he came out of this whole mess, at least he wouldn't stop fighting to the end. Adam parried the blow by grabbing the sword by the blade with the only hand he had left. He didn't seem to care. Not even an eyebrow twitched as the blade began to sink into his skin.

Blood soon flowed down the blade of his sword again.

Down the reflection of both of them in there. He wished with all his heart that before night gave way to day they would both be nothing more than a reflection, a mirage of the past.

"James, you have to understand. How hard it is to live like this... With nothing and no one... You have to understand..."

He believed his own nonsense. Monsters like him always lived in their own worlds, not letting reality and facts get in the way of their personal fantasies of who they were, of their place in the world. He knew that all too well. Personally.

But...

"That's not even my name, you phony piece of shit."

He won the struggle for the sword.

Carrying out the attack, in the end. Though of course it wasn't half as potent as it would have been, had he not been interrupted in the first place.

But it was enough to take two of the fingers on his right hand, and that would have to suffice.

He also took a kick to the chest, but endured it well. Since he saw it coming.

Jonathan grabbed Adam's leg. He used all his strength to twist and throw him...right through the window through which he had flung the table. Fighting on open ground gave him no special advantage, at least on his own, but fighting in such a tight space definitely put him at a disadvantage.

Jonathan jumped after him.

He had no time to waste. Since he hadn't given him the coup de grace, Adam's wounds would regenerate. Eventually.

Adam. No grandiose airs, just the name his parents had given him, the one he'd had when he'd died miserably, backstabbed, like just another weak human.

It was a good idea. But neither of them deserved a human name.

Dracula, he would call him, from now on. And he...

Well. He wasn't going to do anything embarrassing like give himself a new name, as if then this discarded husk could leave the past behind and become a new person. He would simply be aware of the monster he was....

Even as he plunged this sword into Dracula's heart, slaying another monster, saving the world.

An explosion of blood. One of Dracula's shoulders had been pierced with a spear, from behind. That really made him open his mouth. A mild reaction, but more than he had gotten out of him, even after maiming him several times.

Dracula grabbed the spear by the tip. He pulled so hard that it snapped. Most of it fell to the ground. However, the spearhead remained stuck in his shoulder.

He didn't care.

Dracula, this time, grabbed his attacker's head with both hands. Squeezing. Squeezing and squeezing...

Until it burst like a ripe melon between his hands.

Then, he dropped that sack of flesh.

"Did you have to bring other people into this? I was enjoying this private dance."

Not too far away, a building collapsed, covered in a blanket of flames. A gigantic bonfire. When it hit the ground, it was as if an earthquake had been unleashed.

Instantly, no, a second before that happened, as if he could feel it in his bones, Adam lunged forward.

A second before Jonathan lost his balance.