130: Chapter 130 The Mirror-like Ice Plains, the Torn Dimensional Entrance

After a night's rest.

The torches had burned out, and the morning light filtered in through the cracks of the high windows.

Van Helsing stood alone before the massive mural.

He stared at the black castle buried in snow within the painting, his brow furrowed.

In the bottom right corner of the image, a perfectly regular small piece was missing.

A groundless intuition drove him.

Van Helsing reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a fragment of parchment made of a strange material.

He took out the fragment and slowly pressed it into the gap in the mural.

It fit perfectly.

"Click."

An extremely faint mechanical sound echoed from deep within the wall.

Immediately after.

On the surface of the originally dry canvas, a layer of ethereal blue frost began to condense at a visible speed.

The frost spread and then melted into water.

The entire mural actually began to ripple strangely like water blown by a breeze, exuding a bone-chilling cold.

The passage had opened.

Everyone was drawn by the commotion and gathered around.

Anna looked at the gate that her ancestors had searched for for four hundred years, her breathing quickening.

"Clap, clap."

Qin Ming stood at the back of the crowd and casually clapped his hands twice.

"Since the door is open, let's get ready to work."

"The sooner we finish the fight, the sooner we can go back for lunch."

He walked straight past everyone and was the first to step into the ripples.

A biting wind mixed with ice shards whipped against their faces.

When they opened their eyes again, they were inside a grand yet eerie ice castle.

Thick layers of ice had formed on the towering stone pillars, and the air was thick with the smell of blood.

"Everyone, split up."

Qin Ming turned around and naturally took command.

He looked at the Valerious siblings and Mavis.

"Anna, Velkan, take Mavis and deal with the remaining two Vampire Brides; this is the best opportunity."

Anna drew her scimitar and nodded vigorously.

"Carl." Qin Ming turned his gaze to the short monk clutching his satchel. "In the basement of this castle, Dracula keeps the antidote he uses to control the mutated werewolves.

Go find it."

Carl swallowed hard. Although he was afraid, he still responded loudly, "Leave it to me, Lord Holy Son!"

Qin Ming finally looked at Van Helsing.

"As for you, Hunter." A faint smile tugged at the corner of Qin Ming's mouth. "Come with me to meet the master of this castle."

Van Helsing did not object.

Even he found it strange that his habitually proud instincts didn't resist the orders issued by this Eastern youth.

Deep within the ice hall.

Massive gears were embedded in the surrounding stone walls, with chains crisscrossing in mid-air.

In front of the empty throne, a figure slowly emerged.

Dracula.

"Finally, we meet again."

Dracula's raspy voice echoed through the hall.

He was about to strike a highly oppressive pose when he caught sight of Qin Ming standing slightly behind Van Helsing in his peripheral vision.

Dracula's originally wicked and arrogant expression suddenly froze.

The front kick he had taken to the buttocks last night seemed to still throb with pain.

Why did this Living Yama, cloaked in holy light, personally come to supervise?!

Dracula suppressed the unnatural twitch at the corner of his eye and forced his attention back to Van Helsing.

"Whoosh—"

Without any nonsense.

Van Helsing raised his hand and made a lethal throw.

A silver stake as thick as a forearm tore through the air, accurately piercing Dracula's heart!

The massive impact sent Dracula flying backward, pinning him to the stone pillar behind him with a thud.

Van Helsing pulled out his repeating crossbow, ready to finish him off.

"Heh..."

A low, cold laugh rang out.

Dracula lowered his head and reached out to grasp the silver stake in his chest.

"Pfft!"

Expressionlessly, he pulled the silver stake out and tossed it onto the ground.

Around the terrifying transparent hole in his chest, the flesh writhed frantically as if it had a life of its own, and in just one second, it was restored to its original state.

Qin Ming stood to the side with his arms crossed, watching the performance with interest.

Dracula looked up, his crimson eyes fixed intently on Van Helsing.

This time, the resentment and fanaticism in his eyes were completely undisguised.

"Hello..."

A cold curve curled at the corner of Dracula's mouth as he spoke the name syllable by syllable.

"Gabriel."

The hand Van Helsing held his crossbow with shook violently. "That's not my name. My name is Van Helsing!"

Dracula slowly approached.

"Oh, then I'm truly sorry. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Vlad Dracula, born in 1422."

Dracula spread his arms as if declaring some kind of fate. "And in 1462, I was murdered by your own hands."

He pointed at Van Helsing, his voice suddenly rising.

"The Left Hand of God! The Purge of Heaven!"

"Archangel Gabriel!"

These words echoed in Van Helsing's ears as countless fragmented images flashed frantically before his eyes.

A burning church, a brandished greatsword, corpses littering the ground, and a pair of massive wings stained red with blood.

"You killed me!" Dracula fell into a frenzied memory. "Because of your judgment, I made a pact with the devil in exchange for this immortal shell!"

"We were once brothers fighting side by side in the Order of the Holy Knights! Until you betrayed me!"

A violent headache made it nearly impossible for Van Helsing to stand.

He dropped his crossbow and clutched his head in pain.

"I don't remember..." Van Helsing knelt on one knee, his voice terrifyingly raspy. "I don't remember any of this at all!"

"I can help you."

Dracula walked up to Van Helsing and looked down at him.

He extended a pale hand, his tone full of seduction.

"I can return all your memories. As long as you abandon that hypocritical faith, Gabriel, join forces with me! With our power, the world will bow at our feet!"

The atmosphere was heavy to the extreme.

Just then.

"Tsk."

An extremely untimely, sharp tongue-clicking sound interrupted Dracula's pre-casting animation.

Qin Ming leaned against a stone pillar and yawned out of boredom.

"I say, old bat," Qin Ming rolled his eyes, "do you not know that villains always die from talking too much?"

Dracula's extended hand froze in mid-air.

He glared fiercely at Qin Ming but didn't dare to speak back.

"This script was set by you yesterday, and now you're complaining I talk too much?"

Van Helsing panted heavily.

He looked up, and his eyes gradually regained their clarity.

That holy instinct deeply rooted in his soul overwhelmed his confusion.

"Some things..."

Van Helsing suddenly stood up and slapped Dracula's hand away.

"I would rather forget forever!"

He reached into his trench coat and pulled out a large pure silver cross.

Without any hesitation.

Van Helsing raised the cross high, looked straight into Dracula's eyes, and began to rapidly chant an ancient Latin exorcism prayer.

A holy glimmer began to gather on the surface of the cross.

Facing this lethal holy relic, Dracula actually didn't back down.