Beneath the earth, a colossal primordial space was constructed.
Covering tens of thousands of square meters, it reached depths of hundreds of meters.
Various stone columns supporting it were engraved with mysterious patterns, forming an intricate network of passages.
The few thousand remaining vampires in New York all resided here, along with many imprisoned blood food and special refrigeration rooms for storing blood bags. The vampires, with their astounding heritage, spent a great deal of money and manpower to trade for time efficiency.
It was almost as if a miraculous underground cavern was constructed in a short amount of time.
The walls of the passages were adorned with oil lamps, their dim yellow light illuminating the dark underground, shedding some brightness on the chilly depths.
At the deepest part, there stood a moderately sized altar flanked by twelve circular stone columns, with twelve deep grooves carved on the altar.
This place was also known as the Temple of Eternal Night. A group of vampires stood around the constructed passages, looking at the altar where now stood Deacon Frost, a young and handsome vampire in a suit and white shirt, his top button undone to reveal some skin, slightly stylish and unbridled.
Deacon Frost, full of vigor, stood on the altar, backed by the elders of the council.
He slightly lifted his head, scanning the blood brethren gathered along the wall edges of the passages, and passionately said, "My fellow vampires, we are the noble race, we have a heritage of ten thousand years, we were once glorious, spreading the fame of vampires across the world."
"But since the rise of humans, we started to hide, our former prey became the masters of this world."
"Now, a damned human ‘Butcher’ has forced us to flee our home, trampled our glory, forcing us to hide like rats in the jungle."
"We must reclaim our past glory, summon the Blood God to lead us to brilliance, make the world kneel at our feet, awakening the deepest fears humans once had towards us."
His stirring words rang like a bell in the souls of all vampires.
Awakening their pride and arrogance from within.
They are the great vampire race, the immortal species; how can they hide because of humans? They should be the true masters of the world.
These vampires opened their mouths, revealing sharp fangs, their faces fierce.
They let out a thunderous roar.
Roar~~~
The terrifying sound echoed throughout the underground. Deacon Frost slightly tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and spread his arms, enjoying the moment, unknowing that tonight he would become divine.
At that moment, a vampire elder approached amid the gaze of the others, and spoke to the impressive-looking Deacon Frost, "Blade has arrived, bringing an old hunter."
And this elder was none other than an insider controlled by Bi Xiao.
Deacon was unaware of this; he slowly opened his eyes, turned his head to look at the elder and the other elders, and sneered, "He has indeed come, the last elect is in place, catch him alive."
The vampire elders nodded and turned to leave.
The elders, high in rank but also possessing the purest vampire bloodlines, were significantly stronger than ordinary vampires.
In a flash, deep underground, the vampires quietly awaited the hunter stepping into the trap prepared for him.
Deacon had his trusted aides head to another location, where molds were specially constructed to extract fresh blood from the last elect.
At the entrance to the underground passage.
Blade and Whistler stepped in, the long corridor was empty, the wall lamps on either side automatically lighting up.
Blade and Whistler exchanged a glance, stepping down the stairs one by one, advancing along the passage, and when they reached the end, they faced an extremely spacious area.
The elders and thousands of vampires had already been waiting there.
"Not giving us even a slight chance, huh?"
Whistler helplessly said, his and Blade’s original plan was for him to find a suitable spot to hide and provide long-range support for Blade.
But the plan hadn’t even started before they were blocked by a large group of vampires.
Click!
Blade cocked the tube magazine of his shotgun, loading the ammunition, Whistler placed his sniper rifle on his back, pulling out a shotgun from his lower back.
In this densely packed combat, without a doubt, the sniper rifle was less effective, while the shotgun, a godsend for crowd control, was always the divine weapon.
The battle was about to begin, but suddenly the insider elder stepped on a raised part of the ground.
Blade and Whistler’s expressions changed, instantly sensing danger, both of them swiftly rolled to the sides, unfortunately, Whistler, being older, was not agile enough, and the floor stone where he had been standing sank, revealing a deep pit.
Whistler still fell downward.
Below was a long sloping slide, Whistler slid uncontrollably downwards, Blade dodged the trap, instinctively reaching out to grab Whistler, but it was too late.
And he also paid the price for his unnecessary action.
Just as the whooshing sound reached his ears, Blade turned his head, barely having time to be angry about Whistler falling into the trap, as several vampire elders had already dashed towards him with ghostly speed.
Blade’s extensive combat experience came into play instantly, he changed his stance full of vulnerabilities, leaned back, and half-laying in midair, he was about to pull the trigger of his shotgun.
However, inexplicably, at the moment he was about to fire, his body seemed uncontrollable, and at this critical moment, he did not pull the trigger.
This instant gave two insider elders the chance to rush forward, one disarming Blade of his shotgun, and the other grabbing Blade’s neck, lifting a knee towards his lower back.
Crack.
A crisp sound echoed, Blade’s lower back was severely injured and fractured, his face immediately contorted in pain, he still wanted to counterattack, but the other vampire elders did not give him a chance, they swarmed him, twisting Blade’s hands and breaking his leg bones.
Blade was captured alive.
Blade's eyes behind his sunglasses involuntarily closed, his and Whistler's noble sacrifice at this moment seemed like a joke.