The hunt

A few days after the battle in Pata Village...

“I need scans—bring me the scans or the General will have your heads!” shouted a man in red robes. He paced furiously, glaring at two middle-aged men frantically scribbling notes. “The Kantar within the staff was detected in Pata Village, and alongside it, another massive presence—strong enough to defeat a first-class demon! And yet you morons don’t even have a description of the person it belonged to?!”

His face had turned completely red, his bald head glistening with sweat as he fumed.

Leaving the shaken men behind, the robed man stormed into the war room where their first meeting had taken place.

“Still nothing?” the General asked with irritation.

“Apparently so,” the bald man replied, noticeably more subdued.

The General slammed his fist on the table. “Your employees are useless. I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

He turned to the robed boy from before—Marcel, dressed in the same luxurious linen robes.

“Marcel, summon Dracula. Have him hunt down whoever wields that staff.”

Marcel raised a brow, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “You do know His Highness wouldn’t approve. If you go solo, and you're caught, you could lose your position—or worse.”

“The King’s original plan was a failure,” the General snapped. “He hired weaklings because he didn’t want to risk his precious assets. He’s a joke. I will take the staff. I will kill its wielder and prevent the prophecy. That way, the Celestial King will reward me.”

Marcel chuckled darkly. “Well, since you know the risks and still want to do it... you should know we’ll need a very expensive contract to summon that one. After all, we’re talking about a Demon Lord.”

“Use the orphans from that shelter we searched a while back,” the General said coldly. “Nobody important will miss them.”

He turned and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing behind him.

As the door closed, Marcel burst into fiendish laughter. “What will you do now, Hanz?” he whispered. “Dracula will be too strong for the current version of the Great Celestial of Destruction. If you interfere, you risk erasing history itself…”

The thought made him laugh harder as he began gathering the necessary components for the summoning.

“I’ll wait until midnight. That’s when the connection between our realm and the Demon Realm is strongest,” Marcel muttered to himself, rummaging through a shrine. “Now… where’s the gauntlet?”

Moments later, he pulled it from the shadows. The gauntlet was golden, massive—easily twice the size of an adult human hand. Each knuckle held a glowing gem, pulsing with a sinister power.

Midnight drew near.

Standing high above the sleeping village, Marcel began the ritual, arms raised to the night sky.

“Apaçt ñäßë ìtñá çùpā, Demon Lord Dracula ßàth ñå...” he chanted.

A swirling portal ripped through the sky.

“The building below is your sacrifice. Devour them.”

At his word, a black blur shot from the portal. In a blink, the orphanage below vanished.

All that remained was a patch of blood-soaked earth… and bones.

A dark figure stood amidst the carnage, tall and draped in shadows, glowing red eyes piercing the night.

It looked up at Marcel.

“You again,” it said, voice like thunder. “What would you have me do this time?”

Marcel smirked. “You still remember me? I’m honored. This mission is a little more… ambitious. I want you to retrieve the Staff of Son Goku the Monk… and kill its current wielder.”

The dark figure nodded slowly.

“As you wish.”

And with that, it vanished into the night—leaving only Marcel behind, his grin wide and wicked.