Dracula's castle stood like an open wound in the heart of the mountain, a colossus of black stone and metal that defied nature and time itself. Its spire-like towers tore at the sky like the claws of an ancient monster, crowned with sharp, twisted roofs covered in the patina of rust and centuries of neglect. The walls, sculpted with almost inhuman precision, were adorned with gargoyles that seemed alive, frozen in a moment of terror, as if their grotesque expressions were an echo of the damned souls that once perished in their shadows.

  The central dome, massive and twisted, seemed to defy gravity, supported by an architecture that bordered on the impossible. It was adorned with stained glass windows that depicted not saints or glory, but scenes of violence, blood and a glorification of evil that made even the bravest gaze uncomfortable. The moon's rays, which managed to pierce the darkness of the night, barely illuminated the outlines of the castle, but instead of providing clarity, they deepened its mystery. The shadows projected on its walls seemed to move of their own accord, as if the building had a consciousness, as if it were a living being, an immortal guardian of unimaginable horrors.

  Dracula's castle was not just a fortress; it was a temple to death and desecration, a monument to the macabre. It was designed not only to defend, but to inspire terror. In its presence, even the bravest of men could feel their hearts quicken, overwhelmed by the certainty that this place was not just stone and steel, but a portal to something much darker, something that even the light of day could not dispel.

  In the early stages of the battle, I could see the army marching towards the castle, the soldiers, their swords and armour, marching slowly and cautiously into the unknown of the Dark Lord's territory. While all this was happening, we were still waiting on a mountain, watching the events unfold, waiting for the ideal moment to strike at the heart of the enemy. The heads of the hunting houses watched the crusade advance. It was during this impatient wait that a girl separated herself from her father and came to speak to me.

  "Hello, great Cacique, ruler of..."

  "I just said you could call me Elise, it's easier."

  "Formality is not something a warrior should think about in battle."

  "The family at home, the brotherhood of warriors and survival are." I tried to cut all the padding from her talking.

  "......"

  "You're right, please forgive me, oh great... Sorry, Elise." Somehow the girl realize exactly what I meant and at accordingly right away.

  "....."

  "My name is Lucy Lecarde, as the Cardinal has already introduced, I am a mage from the House of Lecarde."

  "Since you don't formally belong to the ecclesiastical institution of the Hunters of Evil, you probably have many doubts and lack of knowledge about our work and traditions."

  "For this reason, I have been assigned to assist you in our mission and to bring you up to date so that our holy mission tonight will be successful."

  "So, in short, you've been sent to be the know-it-all, explaining everything that's going on."

  "I sense sarcasm and irritation in your tone. May I ask why?" said the hunter dressed as a gothic nun.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound angry."

  "It's just that I've been through similar things many times, a bit of a curse I have."

  "It's not that I despise your work, I'd just appreciate it if you gave me the short version of things."

  "I already know a lot, so you don't have to explain everything from scratch."

  "All right, I'll try to remember that from now on."

  "......"

  "If it's not too much trouble, would it be okay if I asked you a few questions about yourself?"

  "So I can have some background to work with as a base."

  "Cacique has always been considered a myth among hunters."

  "But not only that it's real, but that you were called to this battle is surprising in itself."

  "But there are many things that don't fit with everything we thought about Cacique."

  "According to our books, Cacique is the name of the indigenous leaders of Central America."

  "But you two are clearly Kitsune, Yokai from Japan. May I know the reason for this confusion of terms?"

  "It's a long and rather complicated story."

  "I know it's hard to believe because of my appearance, but I'm actually from Central America, the Japanese is my companion, Tamamo."

  "The reason they gave me the title of Cacique, although I understand part of it, I don't really like it."

  "Although it's the same term as emperor, I'm not a follower of grandeur or territorial conquests."

  "I like to live a normal life, the modern world is much more entertaining."

  "You know, it's more fun watching a film about vampire hunters than actually doing it."

  "Still, that doesn't explain why the holder of the Cacique title is a Kitsune."

  "A lot has happened, let's leave it at that."

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

  "My questions came from genuine curiosity, there was no hidden agenda behind my words other than to understand a bit more about the person I'm talking to."

  "It's all right, it's no big deal."

  "Though remember, we're talking about magical creatures here, so it's a good idea not to dismiss anything. Think that anything is possible."

  "That will help your chances of surviving tonight."

  "You're right, sorry."

  "......"

  "Though if I may ask one last question."

  "You just called your companion Tamamo, and since she's a real Japanese kitsune, does that mean she's the real..." She looked at my wife a little afraid.

  "She only accompanies me on my adventures, just another warrior with weapons."

  "It's much better to trust her and have her as an ally than as an enemy."

  "The Urakaze Clan has recently realised this."

  "But if she betrays us, she is a threat we cannot afford."

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  "The real threat will be me if you decide to do anything funny."

  "I promise you, if you make any funny jokes, everyone here will see angels descending from the heavens, but for the wrong reasons."

  "......"

  "Look, how about instead of annoying me, you do your job as an assistant and help me understand exactly what's going on with all this mess?"

  "Can you tell me exactly why we're somehow facing Dracula?"

  The girl wasted no time in going straight to the background of what had happened that night. This whole problem seemed to have originated a long time ago, more than a thousand years ago, according to Lucy Lecarde's explanation. The origin of this dark evil began with good intentions that were soon twisted by the ambitions of men for their kingdoms and glory. The exact origin in question? The Council of Piacenza, where a letter from Pope Urban II, a simple piece of paper with no value beyond the words written on it, called upon the allied European empires to reclaim the Holy Land of Jerusalem, a city that had been a source of conflict and strife since almost the beginning of mankind. The letter was well received by the European nobility, but something was missing, so the Pope added the promise of plenary indulgences. Suddenly, being a soldier and wielding a sword became the easier way to heaven. A fool, or an innocent deceived, was what started the march of the soldiers when the cleric Peter the Hermit read the letter and became enormously excited by the idea of visiting the city he had read so much about in his books. With his words and prayers, he convinced thousands of poor peasants to march with him towards the Middle East, innocently, accompanied only by prayer and poverty during the journey. In an uncontrolled manner, they caused destruction and looting in the cities they visited in order to feed themselves and raise funds to continue their journey. Emperor Alexios I Comnenos himself advised him to wait for the legion of soldiers that was gathering behind them to maintain the order of the group and their safety for the rest of the journey, but Peter, under pressure from his followers, decided to continue his journey without assistance. Half of them were killed by the Seljuk Turks while trying to overcome the unruly mob, and the other half were sold into slavery. Peter the Hermit was forced to accept his failure and barricade himself in an abandoned castle to await the rescue of the knights who were on their way to conquer Jerusalem.

  But how does Dracula fit into this story? One of those knights was Mathias Cronqvist, a powerful knight from the Kingdom of Hungary. He was one of the thousands of soldiers marching to the Holy Land, drawn by the possibility of heavenly forgiveness that a military campaign promised. He was part of a group of knights called to rescue Peter the Hermit, an elite force created to save God's followers. Another member of this group was Leon Belmont, a French knight and friend of Mathias. The two of them risked their lives countless times on their way to conquer Jerusalem. But when their mission was over and they returned to Europe, they were not given the hero's welcome they had expected. The real beneficiaries were the European kingdoms, who saw their territories expand, while the soldiers, who truly bore the burden of battle, received only thanks and a pat on the back. While Leon was greeted by his beloved Sara, Mathias was greeted by the death of his wife from illness while he was abroad. Enraged by what he saw as God's betrayal - seeing how he had been used by other kings for their wealth at the cost of his misfortune on the battlefield - he vowed to take revenge on humanity and all that is sacred. In his plan for revenge against Heaven, he saw how becoming a powerful vampire would help him gain time to avoid his own death and find a way to defeat his enemy. In his mad plan to gain power, he sacrificed his friend Leon's wife, which would cause Leon to swear vengeance against him, thus giving birth to the Belmont Clan of Vampire Hunters.

  The war between the Belmonts and Dracula has lasted for centuries, both in secret and in grandeur. The Church has always documented everything related to the various movements and plans of the heretic vampire. How he disguised himself as Vlad ?epe?, the time when he almost won with the Black Death, the plan of the traitorous Báthory family who tried to resurrect the dark lord with a bloody ritual organised by Elizabeth Báthory, but the vampire's plan was stopped just in time by the blatant massacre, the Dark Plan during the French Revolution, the almost successful invasion of England, which was fortunately stopped by Quincy Morris despite his death in battle, the uprising during the two World Wars, where it is even suspected that the group "Black Hand" was part of an organisation trying to carry out the Dark Lord's plans.

  "And so we've somehow ended up here today, attacking a castle with medieval weapons.

  "All because, once again, some idiot thought it would be a good idea to fight something he didn't understand."

  "The way things are going, the only thing missing is the fact that this is somehow connected to Atlantis." I said mocking a little to myself.

  "Please don't say that, or it will happen," Tamamo said, already irritated, well aware of my usual luck pattern.

  "Atlantis?"

  "The mythical underwater city mentioned by Plato?

  "Mankind has searched relentlessly for the city, but nothing has ever been found."

  "It may sound ridiculous coming from a church hunter, but all the evidence points to this place being nothing but fiction, an imaginary city created by Plato to illustrate his ideas, an allegory."

  "And that's the way it should stay," I said, trying not to attract bad luck.

  When I had finished speaking, I turned my gaze back to the castle. An army was marching towards the gates of the dark castle in the distance, inside the mountain. The path leading to its outer walls was littered with the bones of thousands of unknown skeletons, but this did not deter the warriors from their valiant march.

  Although we were at the rear of the attack, we could see the formation clearly from here. A brave priest, carrying a cross adorned with gold and light, walked defiantly at the front, followed by four assistants burning incense to dispel curses and evil spirits. Some of our own soldiers didn't believe them at first, but when the shadows among the bones began to run and retreat with shrill cries, they saw why the team was carrying so many talismans, seals and crosses.

  Despite the size of our army, we were still only a fraction of what a medieval battle would be. Though we were many, this was above all a secret war, and the rest of the world would never know what was happening here unless we were completely defeated. Each hunter's house brought a number of warriors from their territories, but not so many as to arouse suspicion that a mobilization was taking place. In an attempt to increase our numbers, several wizards summoned by the Crusade conjured up puppet soldiers to increase our fighting power. These warriors were not as effective as a man who had spent years training for war, but with their help we could reserve the trained soldiers for more important moments and more complex plans. At the back were the Umbra Venatores and the Inquisitors, waiting for the moment to strike.

  The party marched past catapults and siege towers, every means of penetrating the castle's defenses. A huge black castle loomed, threatening with its presence and a terrible death. A castle where remnants of light could be seen flickering in its windows, where movement could be seen in its corridors and where strange winged creatures flew through the skies, trying to count the invading forces. Dracula's castle rumbled with the sound of several alarm campaigns, fireballs began to emerge from within its walls, the first attack of evil was already on its way. The skeletons outside the castle gates began to rise and take up arms. In a few moments, an enemy army as numerous as our own rose up to face us.

  With the first clash of soldiers, the battle began - swords clashed, spears were thrown, catapults were fired, archers shot arrows. It was impressive to see a medieval battle unfolding in the age of smartphones and the internet, but that was exactly what I was witnessing.