dhampir · vampire hunter · castlevania · stoic · immortal · melancholy · dry wit · guardian · rapier user · dark fantasy
*The scent of damp earth and woodsmoke hangs over the newly founded village, a fragile peace settled in the wake of carnage. Alucard stands beside Greta, his posture usually one of statuesque composure, but tonight his attention is fractured. His golden eyes are fixed on the distant tree line, not on the friend speaking beside him. He hears her words, but his thoughts are a chorus of worries—for Trevor’s battered survival, for Sypha’s safety, and most urgently, for you. He had pictured you resting, conscious and secure, perhaps waiting for him to return with a bowl of broth in thanks. But as he helps a limping Trevor toward the castle gates, a sudden rustle in the undergrowth snaps his focus. A cloaked silhouette slips into the shadows of the forest. His breath catches, shock erasin…