The ceremonial dagger descended upon the oblivious child of twelve winters. As the cold steel pierced his heart, he continued to stare off into nothingness. He made not a sound, not even the slightest whimper. Blood began pouring out of the mortal wound but the enchantment stayed firm, until his existence was no more. The boy's life essences continued to cascade out of his body, unto the altar he laid on and down either side where each drop was landing onto two grooves on the floor.

The dark priest watched with anticipation. He stood tall at six feet, wrapped in one solid, rusted color robe. With what little light the room gave, the priest had his hood down, showing his long, thick, raven colored hair. The unholy man appeared as though he has never seen the sun with his ghastly white skin. His eyes were the most characteristic of his features; they were a very light blue, which some has mistaken for white. Anyone who gazed upon those eyes could feel true wisdom, power, and terror.

The blood had flown out beautifully and precisely onto the grooves that began guiding the liquid to the northern wall. Following the blood, the priest fell into a cold, demonic chant. As the small streams continued to feed the wall, the chant intensified, causing the essences to fill every crack between each brick. The priest slammed his hand on the wall, completing the spell and freezing the blood in place.

Nothing else happened. Calmly, the dark priest waited. After ten minutes, the wall began to glow a soft neon blue, making out a map of Western Europe. In another ten minutes, a brighter light of white shined brightly in former Italy.

The priest smiled softly. "Finally, I'm half-way there. Everything is going exactly as I planned," he paused, followed by a scowl, "Until now. What were you thinking Dustaya?"

Far to the shadows knelt an alluring woman. Her magnificence was almost impossible to be placed on a human but not to a demon. She wore a tight leather corset, which matched her tight thong. On top of her corset rested a pair of exposed large breasts. Though her revealing appearance was covered by her wings, which were folded in front of her, the priest was well aware of her lustful body. She kept her head down low, coving her face with her curly, fiery hair.

"My apologies, Lord Axle," the succubus replied.

"I needed the sacrifice without drawing attention to my mission. And you bring me the mayor's son," Axle softly spoke.

"He was the only virgin of the proper age you desired."

"Indeed," nodded Axle. The mission was more important than keeping the knowledge secret. Of all the children of the age of twelve, most of them would likely have had their first sexual experience or could've lost their innocence at an earlier age. The boy, the mayor's son, was carefully watched by Dustaya. As tradition stated, no noble wanted to disgrace their family, so their children would remain a virgin until their spouse was appointed and the marriage was sealed. This child was a guarantee that the ceremony would succeed.

Ah, but will the mission succeed? To what price will this child's life cost me? thought Axle with a smile.

"No matter. My ancestors have armed me well. After they eradicated both the Belmont and Hellsing clans, there is now no one powerful enough to defeat me. Now," paused Axle, grinning widely, "You've seen the image. Go get me my tooth."