Chapter 127 – The Condition

General Rafael Salcedo, the man in command of the entire operation, was a seasoned military officer.

He had spent much of his life fighting in wars against other countries, first as just another officer on the front lines and later as one of the strategists responsible for directing large-scale operations.

And if there was one thing Salcedo had learned after so many decades of service, it was that the fear of death could completely change the outcome of a battle.

Even the best-trained soldiers trembled when faced with an enemy who clearly outmatched them.

That didn't make them cowards; it made them rational. In fact, he himself had been forced to swallow his pride and order retreats in the past, realizing that fighting on would only send his men to the slaughter.

But everything he knew about conventional warfare changed the day the monsters appeared.

Before, nations had only needed to worry about territorial conflicts, political disputes, and rival armies. Afterward, they had to learn to protect their citizens from creatures capable of appearing out of nowhere and wiping out entire cities.

Some could be brought down with bullets, artillery, and conventional weapons.

But others...

Not even the most advanced military arsenal could stop them easily.

Governments had no choice but to adapt their armies, build new defense systems, and start relying far more heavily on mages.

Over the years, those individuals became the most valuable resource in keeping humanity from going extinct.

The problem was that having mages at their disposal didn't mean those mages were willing to obey.

It was one thing to command soldiers who received military training, respected a chain of command, and accepted that disobeying an order meant facing a court-martial. It was quite another to try to impose discipline on someone who could reduce an entire building to rubble just by raising a hand.

Some mages agreed to join the armed forces and protect the cities.

Others preferred to remain independent as high-priced mercenaries, only lifting a finger when the pay was worth it.

And then there were those who recognized no flag or government.

Rogue mages.

Individuals convinced that their power gave them the natural right to decide which laws applied to them and which didn't.

Not all of them were criminals; some just wanted to be left alone. But those who chose to use their strength to crush the weak were living nightmares.

That fractured Earth's political landscape.

While some countries managed to integrate their mages into the military and maintain a reasonable degree of stability, others ended up divided among guilds and private factions.

And in the less fortunate regions, the situation bordered on outright anarchy, with governments that existed in name only, powerless to stop the internal wars between magical organizations.

Depending on where you happened to be born, you could live in a safe metropolis guarded by mixed squads, or in no-man's-land.

Defending the population from monsters under those conditions was a constant headache. When a high-level beast appeared, simply giving the deployment order wasn't enough; first, you had to pray you had mages willing to follow it.

Salcedo had learned firsthand that sitting down to negotiate with certain high-ranking mages was just as exhausting as dealing with a foreign head of state: some demanded fortunes or political concessions, others only acted when the fire reached their own doorstep, and several wouldn't even come to the table.

And as if things weren't unstable enough already, one final factor emerged that changed all the rules.

Travel between worlds.

Discovering that other dimensions existed was one thing; crossing into them was quite another.

Even the vast majority of mages couldn't do it.

It was an absurdly rare ability, exclusive to a select few of rank nine or higher, and even among that elite group, not everyone could master it with ease.

A dimensional traveler whose loyalty could be secured was worth their weight in gold to any major power.

That made it possible to organize expeditions, extract previously unknown resources, study impossible forms of life, and contact civilizations completely unaware that Earth existed.

Unfortunately, not all those worlds were tourist destinations.

Some offered opportunities for peaceful trade or research, but others were hostile hellholes.

Several turned out to be the very lairs from which the monstrosities invading human cities emerged.

Sending troops in blind was always an expensive gamble, and losing a spatial mage in the process was a strategic catastrophe that couldn't be solved by recruiting another soldier.

That was how they had ended up setting foot in this place.

The world of vampires.

Unlike other hostile dimensions, the intelligence reports on this world revealed one unsettling detail: there wasn't a single confirmed record of vampires openly attacking a city on Earth.

Instead, there was no shortage of missing-persons files.

People who vanished without a trace, including a suspiciously large number of young men who appeared to have been taken by inhabitants of that kingdom.

To military analysts, vampires were a very different kind of threat from giant beasts.

They didn't come to declare war; they slipped in among the population, took their target, and vanished before the authorities even knew what to look for.

There was no point filling the streets with tanks when you didn't know where they were or how they crossed between worlds.

That was precisely why this operation existed.

The son of an extremely influential politician had disappeared without a trace, and the orders from above were to recover him alive or, at the very least, bring back irrefutable proof of his fate.

To accomplish that, the government had sent entire platoons, scientists, armored vehicles, and an impressive contingent of mages to the other side.

If he was honest with himself, Salcedo had initially thought this would be a much easier campaign than his previous wars.

They hadn't come to stop a horde or invade an enemy capital; they only had to track down a civilian and avoid unnecessary clashes, backed by overwhelming force.

Or so they had thought.

In practice, they had lost aircraft, abandoned forward outposts, and learned the hard way that much of their modern weaponry was useless junk against the kingdom's magical defenses.

And to top off the disaster, a single vampire had slipped into the very heart of their main base, making a mockery of every security check at the entrance.

Salcedo kept his expression stony as he watched the intruder across the makeshift table in the room.

She was the same white-haired, red-eyed creature who kept an unconscious rank-eight mage tucked under her arm like a handbag, holding that strange golden spear with curved edges and looking at him without a shred of respect for his insignia.

On top of that, her clothes were so torn and tattered from the fighting that she was practically half-naked, without showing the slightest embarrassment or discomfort.

To the general, that detail alone was another warning sign: the creature clearly didn't share a human being's morality, sense of shame, or most basic concerns.

Nor could he tell whether her earlier claim that her regeneration made her immortal was a bluff or the literal truth, and he wasn't in a position to find out by putting his own neck on the line.

Salcedo swallowed without letting it show.

Every lesson of his career came down to one harsh truth he hated applying to himself: it didn't matter whether you were facing a foreign soldier, a monster, or a rogue mage; when someone had the power to kill you before you could blink, you couldn't give them orders.

He might be in command of the entire base, but he had no guarantee that the mage behind him could save his life if that vampire decided to rip his head off right then and there.

The thought terrified him. But he'd spent too many years in uniform to let it show on his face.

His gaze moved from the vampire to the unconscious hostage, then flicked sideways toward the head of the mages, who stood behind him in complete silence.

In human wars, he'd learned that some battles could be won with words.

Against monsters, he'd learned that sometimes talking wasn't an option.

And in dealing with rogue mages, he'd learned that even the most dangerous, arrogant being would accept a deal if you had something they truly needed.

Salcedo brought the lit cigarette to his lips, took a slow drag, and let the gray smoke drift toward the ceiling to steady his pulse.

"All right. We're alone, and we've shut off the noise," the general said in a gravelly voice, resting his elbows on the desk without taking his eyes off her. "Now tell me what it is you want."

Matt didn't even blink at the smoke or the officer's commanding tone. He shifted his grip on Aurora slightly and got straight to the point.

"I want one of the researchers who developed the anti-vampire cure," he replied coldly.