80. The Final Battle.

After years of animosity and division, the humans and vampires finally put their differences aside to confront a common foe—the vampires themselves. They recognized that only by joining forces did they stand a chance against the vampire army. Individually, they would be crushed effortlessly. They strategized, bided their time, and hoped that their united efforts would lead them to victory, despite the vampires' superior numbers and meticulous planning.

Arthur, setting aside his pride and any grievances he held against the humans, embraced the collaborative effort. As they spent more time planning and coordinating, he realized that their supernatural disparities were inconsequential. They were essentially the same, and there was no reason for them to be divided. In fact, he envisioned a future where they could coexist with their differences, and he yearned to put this into action if they emerged triumphant.

However, a constant worry gnawed at his heart—his beloved wife and son. He couldn't bear the thought of any harm befalling them, and he prayed fervently that they were safe and unharmed.

The time for decisive action arrived. Rather than passively awaiting the vampires' assault, they chose to take the fight directly to the vampire kingdom. They set out on their respective modes of transportation—werewolves sprinting in their transformed states, humans riding horses wherever available, and others marching on foot. Arthur, accompanied by four comrades, led the vanguard. They believed that catching Xavier, the vampire leader, off guard would provide them with a significant advantage.

Approaching the vampire palace cautiously, Arthur silently navigated its corridors, his eyes scanning for any sign of his wife and son. However, his search proved fruitless, and he reluctantly pressed forward. Suddenly, he found himself caught in the clutches of Xavier himself.

"Well, well, look who we have here... someone foolish enough to venture into the vampire's lair, even when you cannot best a vampire. Your blood reeks and tastes bitter. If not for that, I would relish draining it from your veins this very instant," Xavier sneered.

Arthur, undeterred by Xavier's taunts, cut straight to the point. "Where is my wife and son?" he asked, his voice filled with determination.

Xavier responded with a scoff and a chuckle. "Your wife?" he questioned mockingly.

"Yes, my wife! She could never be yours, no matter how hard you try. Do you truly believe I'm unaware of your feeble tactics? She would never desire you, and no other female would either. They are not foolish like you," Arthur retorted, intentionally provoking Xavier, aware that this was part of his mission.

Xavier's face contorted with rage. He swelled with anger, launching himself at Arthur with a powerful roundhouse strike from his right arm. Arthur swiftly sidestepped and ducked under the attack, springing back up and spinning around. They had switched positions, and now Arthur found himself closer to his weapons than Xavier.

Sensing the urgency, Xavier lunged once again, repeating the same move. But Arthur anticipated his every move, sidestepping and ducking with precision. The two adversaries seemed to be locked in a perpetual cycle, constantly returning to their initial positions. However, Xavier's heavy breathing betrayed his fatigue, while Arthur remained composed, ready for whatever came next.

"You know, for such an arrogant vampire, you throw punches like a little kid, probably around six years old. You're as weak as a flimsy girl's blouse," Arthur taunted, using a term he had picked up somewhere, perhaps in the human world. He didn't quite understand its meaning, but it seemed to get under the skin of certain individuals. It certainly struck a chord with Kingston, and now he aimed to rattle Xavier.

But Xavier showed no hesitation. He charged at Arthur once again, repeating the same predictable move. This time, Arthur swiftly countered by driving his elbow into Xavier's side as he spun under his arm. He immediately rebounded off his locked knees, launching himself back into the fight. Arthur evaded Xavier's attack once more, feeling the rush of air as Xavier's massive fist narrowly missed his head by a mere inch.

As the skirmish continued, Arthur felt a surge of confidence building within him. He realized that despite being a lackluster fighter, he might actually stand a chance. Many big and proud individuals, like Xavier, relied solely on their imposing size to intimidate opponents, never truly honing their fighting skills. Consequently, they lacked finesse and often became out of shape. Arthur understood that pumping iron in a gym couldn't replicate the intense physical demands, the urgency, and the adrenaline-fueled fitness required for a real battle.

Amidst the struggle, Arthur blew Xavier a sarcastic kiss, further provoking his opponent. Xavier lunged toward him with the force of a pile driver, but Arthur deftly dodged to the left and delivered a solid elbow to Xavier's face. His strike connected with Xavier's left hand, sending him staggering sideways as if he weighed nothing at all.

Arthur momentarily dropped to one knee but swiftly rose, evading Xavier's next reckless assault. Xavier's wild momentum carried him past Arthur and downward, presenting the perfect opportunity for Arthur to deliver a powerful left hook. He unleashed all his strength, channeling it from his toes up to his fist. The blow crashed into Xavier's ear, causing him to stagger back, and Arthur followed up with a colossal right to Xavier's jaw. He then stepped back, catching his breath, and assessed the damage he had inflicted.

To his dismay, Arthur realized that his blows had seemingly made no impact. He had landed four solid hits, including two forceful elbows and two of the hardest punches he had ever thrown in his life. There was blood on Xavier's upper lip from the second elbow strike, but aside from that, Xavier showed no signs of pain or concern.

In theory, Xavier should have been knocked out or at least in a coma. Arthur hadn't had to strike someone more than four times in decades. Yet Xavier remained unfazed, dancing around with a smile, appearing relaxed and impervious. It was evident to Arthur that he had no chance of defeating Xavier; the vampire seemed indestructible, and Arthur's hope began to fade.

And Xavier stared at Arthur, fully aware of the thoughts racing through his mind. A wider smile crept across Xavier's face as he positioned himself on the balls of his feet, crouching low with his hands extended like menacing claws. He stomped his feet rhythmically, left, right, left, right, as if he were preparing to pounce and tear Arthur apart. The once ordinary smile twisted into a grotesque grin of sadistic pleasure.

Without hesitation, Xavier charged straight at Arthur, who swiftly dodged to the left. But Xavier had anticipated this move and landed a powerful right hook squarely in the center of Arthur's chest. The impact felt as if a massive weightlifter, weighing four hundred pounds, had struck him at a rapid pace of six miles per hour.

Arthur's sternum seemed to crack under the force, and he feared his heart might stop from the shock. He was momentarily airborne before crashing onto his back. In that moment, he faced a critical decision—to fight for survival or succumb to defeat. Determined to live, Arthur rolled over, pushed himself up using his hands, and managed to regain an upright position. With a leap backward and sideways, he narrowly evaded a devastating blow that would have surely ended his life.

From that point on, Arthur's focus shifted to staying alive and anticipating the next fraction of a second. His chest throbbed with pain, impairing his mobility, but he deftly evaded every attack Xavier threw his way for about a minute. Xavier was swift, but lacking finesse.

Arthur managed to land an elbow strike on Xavier's face, cracking his nose and causing it to bleed. Gasping for breath, Arthur continued to dodge and dance, awaiting his opportunity. Xavier delivered a massive roundhouse punch that nearly paralyzed Arthur's left arm, but he narrowly avoided a subsequent right punch, which momentarily left Xavier vulnerable.

Xavier's mouth hung open due to the blood streaming from his nose, eliminating the need for Arthur's cigarette trick. Seizing the chance, Arthur unleashed a powerful uppercut with all his strength—a move he had mastered through years of bar fights. The blow struck Xavier directly under his chin, slamming his mouth shut, shattering his jaw, and potentially dislodging teeth or biting off his own tongue. It should have incapacitated him completely. However, to Arthur's disbelief, the punch had no effect other than rocking Xavier back an inch.

Xavier retaliated by seizing Arthur's neck, rendering him immobilized and unable to fight back. Arthur was trapped, helpless in Xavier's grip. Even in the midst of this dire situation, Arthur noticed the curtain behind Xavier catching fire from the nearby lit candles. Realizing the danger, he mentally communicated with his loyal men, instructing them to leave and rescue the others while they continued to fight. He urged them to close the door behind them, containing the fire within the room they occupied.

"Arthur! He's in there!" Winifred began to shout, but the werewolves swiftly dragged her away. Before she could fully comprehend the unfolding events, the room erupted in a powerful explosion.