Kagarino Kirie slowly regained consciousness.
She found herself locked inside a massive iron cage.
Outside the cage was a wide, open plaza. Numerous blood thralls and low-ranking vampires loyal to the Fawkes family were busily laying out some kind of structure on the ground.
Upon closer look, it was a massive magic circle—built of bones and blood, oozing with an aura of death and evil.
Kirie instinctively pulled her legs closer, shrinking back in fear.
"Ah, my beautiful bride—Miss Kagarino Kirie," came a voice from beyond the bars, one that instantly filled her with nausea.
A golden-haired man in a luxurious noble's tuxedo appeared, flanked by servants, approaching her cage.
He stood before Kirie, his eyes glinting with both appreciation and undisguised greed, as if admiring a rare and exquisite work of art.
Kirie forced herself to hold his gaze.
"Yes… That's the look I love," Red Fawkes—the golden pretty-boy and heir to the Fawkes family—grinned with sick delight. "That brave, stubborn glare… paired with your delicate beauty. It drives me absolutely mad."
He gripped the iron bars with both hands, eyes widening with manic glee.
"Just the thought of watching that defiant gaze turn corrupted and hopeless on our wedding night— I can hardly contain myself."
"Disgusting," Kirie spat coldly, launching a wad of spit onto his face.
Even as the saliva slid down his cheek, Red didn't react. Smiling, he calmly took a silk handkerchief from his coat and wiped his face.
"You know, dear Miss Kirie... When I heard you'd run into that man's castle, I thought I'd lost you forever." Red's smile remained as he continued, "Still, on a whim, I sent five executioners to Castlevania, hoping to get lucky. Who would've guessed? Seems you weren't quite as precious to that lord as I imagined."
He reached a hand toward her face, caressing the air just outside the bars.
"I truly did want to marry you right away, to enjoy your beauty for myself. But alas... Lord Zobek has personally requested that my fiancée serve as the vessel for his descent into this world."
He gave a theatrical sigh.
"A shame, really. I hate to part with such a prize. But for the sake of my ambitions, for the return of our kind's rule, and for the world to once again fall into darkness... I must make this sacrifice."
He smirked. "Besides, beautiful women like you are rare—but not impossible to find. I'm a vampire. Once we rule the world, I'll have time to search at my leisure."
He almost seemed to be consoling himself. "No rush. No rush at all. I've got all the time in the world."
"You won't succeed," Kirie said coldly, eyes sharp.
"Is that so?" he chuckled, bowing with gentlemanly grace. "Then let's wait and see, my dear."
With that, Red turned and strolled away with his entourage to supervise the altar's construction.
Left alone, Kirie slowly sank down inside the cage, hugging her knees tightly.
He said it himself… If I were captured, he wouldn't come to save me.
She looked up at the ashen sky.
Papa… Mama… am I going to become a sacrifice to a dark god? Am I going to be eaten...?
Meanwhile, standing before the gates of the Fawkes family manor was Allen Belmont, the vampire hunter, a whip strapped to his waist.
One month ago, he had received the sacred teachings of the Belmont clan from a man who introduced himself as Gabriel. Since then, Allen had embarked on the true path of a vampire hunter.
He spent every day practicing the spells, techniques, and exorcisms recorded in the ancient Belmont manual. In his spare time, he roamed nearby towns, taking up small requests to hunt dark creatures.
Most of the jobs came from peasants or townsfolk—hunting goblins or skeletons. Payment was modest—some food, a little cash—but Allen felt fulfilled. He was a true Belmont now, living the life he'd always dreamed of.
And he owed it all to Gabriel—that powerful, gentle man who had granted him the means to fight darkness. Allen believed Gabriel to be an angel, perhaps even the archangel sharing his name.
Just yesterday, after finishing his training, a minor noble came seeking his help. This noble's daughter had vanished from their estate the previous night, and he believed dark forces were responsible.
Allen agreed without hesitation.
Following a trail of vampire traces, he tracked them all the way to a graveyard—where he found the noble's daughter locked in a cage.
She wasn't alone.
There were many other girls—daughters of nobles and wealthy merchants—being drained of blood under guard.
Allen's righteous fury exploded. He slaughtered the vampire guards, freed the girls, and brought them home safely.
He was handsomely rewarded and showered with admiration from the rescued ladies, but Allen couldn't rest. His Belmont instincts screamed—this wasn't over.
His continued investigation led him to one conclusion:
The Fawkes family.
Duke Scar Fawkes's mansion.
The Duke—once granted his title by the French royal family—had recently perished in a tragic accident, leaving the house to his son, Red Fawkes.
The Fawkes family had always been shrouded in mystery. But Allen's manual had a line written in bold:
"If all signs point to one person—even if it seems absurd—they are the creature of darkness."
Allen didn't dare enter through the front.
He circled to the back wall, scaled it, and slipped in quietly using the Belmont stealth techniques.
At the same time, inside the throne room of Castlevania, Dracula's holy light gradually faded from his hands.
He examined the golden seal on the coffin, nodded in satisfaction.
"Perfect replica," he said.
Stretching lazily, Dracula opened a rift in space with a flick of his fingers.
"Well then, time to visit an old friend. And maybe... save that girl while I'm at it."
He stepped through the portal.
"Ah, learning space-time magic back then really paid off. No more tedious flying—just hop, and I'm there."
Kagarino Kirie sat curled up with her knees to her chest in the innermost part of the iron cage.
She silently watched the pretty-boy vampire, who was obsessed with making her his own. He had finished building his altar. Now, standing atop the blood-soaked platform with a group of equally fanatical followers, he chanted sinister incantations.
"Ah, with the blood and souls of ninety-nine virgins, with the flesh and souls of ninety-nine children, I reach into the abyssal hell and call upon Your great name."
Led by Red, the vampires stood in reverence at the center of the altar, fervently reciting the ritual.
"You are the Keeper of Souls, the ruler of the ancient Necromancer Empire."
"You are the embodiment of decay, the executor of death."
"You once resided in the dark land of the dead, now hidden deep within the endless hell."
"You harvest souls and bestow sweet death upon them."
"When You rise again in this world, darkness shall once again blanket the earth, and mankind shall face extinction."
"We praise You—O great Lord of the Dead, Zobek! Zobek! Zobek!!"
As Red finished his incantation, he suddenly felt a powerful will reaching out to him from the void.
"Ah, great Lord of the Dead, thank You for answering my call," Red knelt reverently and declared, "Please descend. I have prepared the perfect offering—my beautiful fiancée, Miss Kagarino Kirie, who shall be Your vessel."
The blood-drawn magic circle began to glow with an eerie green light—a sign that the Lord of the Dead was about to descend.
Red let out a mad laugh, echoed by the cheers of the surrounding vampires.
Suddenly, a bottle of holy water flew into the midst of the partying vampires. It shattered with a splash, and several unfortunate ones were immediately turned to ash by the sacred energy.
"Enemy attack!" they screamed, revealing their true monstrous forms and scattering in panic.
A thick mist followed—steam created from boiled holy water. The vampires shrieked and fled from the altar, leaving only Red and a tall figure in a black robe by his side.
Allen leapt into the square, holding a whip. He had stealthily procured a large pot and used fire magic to boil the holy water into steam, driving away the lesser vampires.
"Surrender, demon!" Allen cracked his whip with a sharp snap.
Red frowned and said to the tall figure beside him, "Death, deal with this rude lowlife. I'm busy preparing for Lord Zobek's arrival."
The tall figure bowed slightly, then pulled off his black robe—revealing his true form. A hulking elite vampire, unlike any noble nightwalker. His bulging muscles and metal implants made him resemble a werewolf more than a vampire. His body was riddled with surgical scars and mechanical parts—clearly a modified monster.
Knowing this Death character wasn't to be underestimated, Allen raised his guard and began channeling magic.
Sure enough, Death cracked his neck, stomped hard, and charged at Allen with explosive force. The ground beneath him caved in from the sheer strength of his launch. He threw a punch straight at Allen's gut.
Allen dodged with a roll, and Death's fist slammed into the ground, leaving a deep crater.
"Careful, Death! Don't break the summoning circle," Red warned.
Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Allen whipped at Death's arm. The whip, blessed by Dracula's holy power, sliced cleanly through Des's flesh like hot butter.
But Death didn't even flinch. He ducked Allen's follow-up swing and charged again.
Allen moved nimbly, dodging and weaving, using the whip to keep Death at bay. Amazingly, despite being a vampire hunter with less than a month's experience, Allen was holding his own against Death—the executioner captain of the Fawkes Clan.
("Avoid direct hits. Exploit every opening to inflict damage.")
Allen recalled the combat tips taught by Gabriel, swinging his whip faster and faster.
("I can do this! I can win!")
Just as that thought crossed his mind, Death caught the whip mid-swing. Allen looked on in shock—Death's melted hand peeled back to reveal metal claws underneath. In a blink, Death yanked him forward.
("Crap!")
Unable to resist, Allen was pulled right into Death's punch. He barely managed to cast a defense spell, forming a blue shield before him.
The next second, the shield shattered, and Allen coughed up blood as he was launched backward.
He crashed beside an iron cage, spitting blood.
As he tried to stand, gripping the bars for support, he noticed a figure inside.
Looking up, he saw Kirie sitting there, expressionless, staring back at him.
"You are…?" Allen paused, momentarily stunned by her beauty. Then realization dawned. "A vampire?"
Kirie turned her head away in silence.
Just then, a rush of air warned him of danger—too late. Death had already grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground.
Red stood calmly, the summoning ritual complete. Zobek, Lord of the Dead, was about to descend.
The green-lit circle surged, and a giant skeletal hand, wreathed in ghostly green fire, reached out from the summoning array. It hovered in the air, sensing the presence of Castlevania's seal.
Satisfied, the hand withdrew. The ground erupted in green light. The entire altar began to tremble violently.
At that moment, Death threw the bloody Allen at Red's feet.
Red crouched beside Allen, smiling.
"Ah, dear hunter, though you've slain many of my kin, I admire your courage and skill. Accept my embrace—become one of us—and I will let you live. Otherwise, Zobek will torment your soul for eternity."
Allen weakly raised his head.
"If I agree… I'll live?"
"Yes, yes." Red relished his control. "Just say yes, and survival is yours."
"Then—I refuse!!" Allen suddenly shouted with fire in his eyes. He raised a middle finger.
"I, Allen Belmont, love telling arrogant bastards to their face—NO!!"
"You—!"
"Well said!!"
A new voice interrupted. The three turned to see a handsome young man in a red coat standing behind them, smiling at Allen.
"Gabriel-sensei!"
"Dracula-sama!!" Kirie shouted from the cage, clutching the bars in joy.
"Ah, kiddo." Dracula walked forward with his hands in his coat pockets. He didn't even spare Red or Death a glance. Looking at the barely breathing Allen, he smirked.
"Only that last line—that sounded like a real Belmont."
"You…!" Red tried to speak, perhaps to threaten him.
But Dracula casually raised a hand—a burst of blinding holy light incinerated Red instantly.
Then he pulled a silver cross from thin air and tossed it to Allen, healing him with a radiant beam of holy light.