There was an answer, although it was a soft one. A tiny voice, tingling the back of the vampire's mind, barely recognizable as the mighty warrior that had once spoken with it. The words, however, still rang with a conviction untouched by the ages. "When the time comes, you will know what to do."

It was then that a particularly foul smell entered Mithias' nose. It was a scent devoid of life, the scent of rotted corpses. It was the smell of fear, helpless horror. It was the smell of blood, freshly spilled, not yet soaked into the ground. It was the smell of a monster, a being of profound evil.

From the ground up rose a figure, forming from the breeze. Particles locking together, forming a chest, an arm, a leg, a head. A figure with the form of a demon, tall and cloaked in Obsidian. His wings stretched behind him, as if they had been cramped, as the face formed itself upon the creature's head. A smile filled with nothing but hatred, eyes holding nothing but contempt, a particularly EVIL nose. Every cell in Mithias' body told him that the being he now faced was truly, unalterably evil.

Slowly, Alucard walked forward, the grass dying beneath his feet. The very trees wilted as he passed them, their life force drained away by his mere presence. Hundreds of tiny lives, extinguished without so much as a thought, serving as nothing more than a meal. In mere moments, beauty had been replaced by death. A graveyard, a testimony of what had been there but moments before. Flowers dropped to the ground, dead before they hit it, and the waters were rife with floating corpses.

"Well aren't you a pretty little thing? Didn't your mother tell you it's not safe to go out alone? It's after dark, after all."

Smiling, Alucard held up one hand, as he stared at his prey, his mouth already watering. Since he had come here he had had nothing but lackluster meals, petty worlds with nothing worthy of his palette. And yet, he now stared at a veritable feast on legs, brimming with the energy of two lives. He would have to savour this meal.