Chapter 461: Vampires started causing trouble

Weeks had passed since Vergil entered the forest and confronted his “Spider-little,” now named Rize. Time flowed strangely in that domain, as if nature there followed its own rhythm, shaped more by blood and force than by the natural order of things. Within that dense, dark environment, Vergil trained—or rather, shaped—his creation. He refined it like a blacksmith shapes steel: with heat, strength, and purpose. Rize, increasingly, ceased to be a creature and became an entity. A being forged not only by evolution, but by the brutal desire to surpass her own creator.

But while chaos was being forged in the forest, something subtler, darker, was unfolding in another corner of the underworld.

In a subterranean hall, hidden at the roots of the Demon World, a constant sound of machinery filled the air. The crimson lights of demonic crystals cast long shadows on the carved stone walls. In the center of the room, on a circular altar made of bones and arcane technology, a gigantic holographic projection flickered—a map of the world, countless red dots glowing in an alarming sequence.

There, amid the echoes of the machines and the murmur of the shadows, stood Paimon.

Tall, graceful, her golden eyes roamed every point on the hologram with murderous attention. She wore a black robe stitched with threads of malice, and her hair flowed lightly, as if she were submerged in power.

She ran her fingers over the projections, switching between screens and reports. Each document was the same, with only minor variations: night raids, emptied villages, exsanguinated bodies, disappearing nobles.

“Fools…” she whispered. “Did you really think his silence meant weakness?”

With a delicate movement of her hand, Paimon centered the projection on the map. A name pulsed with dark intensity:

ALUCARD.

“The king has returned to the board,” she said, leaning against the structure behind her. “And as always… he doesn’t stand on ceremony.”

The images shifted, now showing visual records: vampires walking in broad moonlight, eating humans, taking entire cities as their own. New clans were emerging, rising from the ashes of the Vampire King’s fall.

And all seemed to obey an invisible figure, a leader who had not yet fully revealed himself… but whose trail was unmistakable. Alucard had officially begun his march to become the King he always was.

“He is rebuilding.” Paimon snapped her fingers, summoning a serpentine messenger demon. “Bring the reports from the Gaza Strip and the Middle East. And send a message to the demons in Abu Dhabi. We need eyes in the human world, especially in the Middle East.”

The demon bowed and disappeared into the shadows.

She was silent for a moment. A thought was forming… a uneasiness.

“If he’s acting now… then something’s going to happen. Especially with these sloppy tracks. Interpol must have started masking it so the humans won’t notice.” She crossed her arms, looking at the map again. “Something… Something big must happen soon…”

And that’s when another name popped into her head.

Vergil.

Paimon narrowed her eyes. The connection was tenuous, but not random. It wasn’t just because Vergil was an anomaly… but because of all the individuals who could potentially upset Alucard… he was the only one who would do it for sport.

She walked to a black stone throne at the back of the room, where several folders floated with magical seals. With a gesture, one opened, revealing the profile of Kaguya—the vampire Vergil had taken as his subordinate. A former subordinate of Alucard’s, who acted as his right-hand woman. A pure-blood woman, but one who had sworn fealty to Vergil’s chaos.

“If anyone knows the former king’s plans…” Paimon said, touching Raphaeline’s floating face, “it’s her.”

She rose with a smooth movement, and her entire body began to emit a bluish-purple glow. Streams of magic danced around her. A summoning circle opened at her feet, and black flames licked the ground.

“It’s decided.” Paimon reached out, and the image trembled. “I need to know… what’s happening.” Then… She vanished.

…

The orange light of dusk streamed through the mansion’s enormous glass windows. Outside, the city sweltered in the stifling heat of a Californian summer, but inside, the atmosphere was different. Silence. Luxury. Laziness.

In the middle of a blood-red velvet sofa, one arm draped over the backrest and the other holding a glass that had been empty of blood for hours, sat Kaguya—the Pureblood Vampire, former follower of Alucard, now subordinate to none other than Vergil.

She sighed with a boredom so profound it seemed she wanted to evaporate out the window.

“Ugh… if another minute passes without anything happening, I swear I’ll climb out the window just to feel some excitement,” she muttered, shaking the glass and watching the single drop drip down the glass.

Across the room, Iridia, Vergil’s personal maid, appeared with a floating tray, her golden eyes narrowed in a mixture of contempt and impatience. Her uniform was impeccable, as always, and her footsteps made no sound, even on the polished marble.

“You’re still there? As if you were a… guest?” Iridia stopped beside the sofa, not even looking directly at Kaguya. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

Kaguya didn’t move, just rolled her eyes. “I’m waiting. My subordinates are finishing their sweep of Santa Monica. There’s more of a vampire presence there than strip clubs and detox juice shops. And frankly, if I go in person, it’ll be an unnecessary massacre.”

Iridia arched an eyebrow. “Unnecessary? Since when do you care about that?”

Kaguya let out a short, almost elegant laugh. “Since the boss likes order. And since he—” she gestured theatrically toward Vergil’s portrait on the wall, “assigned me to collar every Vampire in Los Angeles.”

] She stretched out her legs, still wearing her battle heels, and lazily crossed her ankles. She was wearing a black silk robe that barely concealed her predatory nature. She looked more like an empress on leave than a vampire on alert.

Iridia snorted. “Get a job, vampire slut.”

Kaguya arched an eyebrow, as if she’d just been complimented. “Vampire, slut, and above all, efficient. That’s why I’m here and you keep serving trays.” She swirled her empty glass with disdainful elegance and held it out, without looking. “More blood, dear. Something vintage, if possible. No teenagers on a fast food diet.”

Iridia didn’t move. Her golden eyes gleamed dangerously. For a brief instant, the tray floated higher, tilting precariously as if it would empty its contents onto Kaguya’s head. But the vampire merely smiled, still not taking her eyes off the ceiling. She knew how much she irritated Iridia—and she loved every second of it.

“Just because Vergil gave you autonomy doesn’t mean you can turn this mansion into a gothic spa,” Iridia snapped, her voice as sharp as a scalpel. “And if your vampires aren’t careful, the media will start noticing the disappearances. Have you forgotten that this city is still under Interpol surveillance?”

Kaguya finally stood. Not quickly—nothing about her was hurried—but fluidly, as if she were gliding. Her red eyes met Iridia’s golden ones, and a tense silence descended for a moment.

“Los Angeles is now the Demon King’s territory, my dear.” She spoke calmly, but with an icy edge. “Do you think Interpol can do anything? Or are you afraid the human cameras will see too much? Well, I assure you… they won’t see anything. Because even their eyes are ours now.”

Iridia maintained her posture, but her jaw clenched slightly.

Kaguya took a few steps forward, passing Iridia like a shadow scented with sweet blood. She stopped before the large window and looked out at the city, the sunset dyeing the skyscrapers a sunset red.

“Just wait, nothing else matters but my Master’s sovereignty.” Kaguya spoke, her eyes seeming to explode…

“Since when has she been this faithful?” Iridia wondered.