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To the vampire, the name "Hellsing clan" was akin to that of a monstrous creature lurking under the bed. Every vampire who had lived from the early Renaissance to the end of World War II was well aware of the terror unleashed by the Hellsing clan upon vampires and all monster creatures of the Curtained World.

Their relentless pursuit and unwavering determination made them formidable adversaries, aided by an ever-evolving arsenal of advanced tools and killing methods with the advancement of human technology.

The belief that vampire hunters had become extinct was partly due to the annihilation of the Hellsing clan during World War II. While the Hellsing clan posed a significant threat to vampires, their numbers were limited, and they remained human. Furthermore, the later generations of the Hellsing clan were considerably weaker than their predecessors during the early Renaissance.

During World War II, the Hellsing clan lost its headquarters in Rome and its members were scattered without the protection of the Hightower and the Vatican. This marked the end of the Hellsing clan, once hailed as the greatest vampire hunter clan of all time. Subsequently, the vampire clans struck a deal with the Hightower, seeking their protection and recognition of vampires as a legal race under the Hightower law.

This arrangement allowed vampires to flourish in the modern era, with many utilizing their superior physical abilities as mercenaries for mages. The Lucratius clan embodied the epitome of modern vampires, willing to work for anyone as long as the price was right.

Upon hearing the name "Hellsing," the remaining vampires swiftly retreated from the estate, disregarding their reputation as mercenaries. Their primary concern was receiving payment for the mission. If they were to perish here, they would receive no compensation. They planned to return to their clan and demand compensation from their employer, as they had not been informed about encountering a vampire hunter and a Vatican paladin.

They had only prepared themselves to confront mages, not two formidable vampire slayers.

As the remaining vampire survivor retreated from the estate, a sense of panic gripped their undead hearts. They knew they couldn't escape unscathed, but their desperate attempt to flee was met with a merciless fate. Behind them, Daniel, with his deadly precision, aimed his black handgun and fired a single shot.

Bang!

The silver bullet whizzed through the air, finding its mark as it pierced through the back of the retreating vampire. The creature let out a shriek of agony as its body disintegrated into a cloud of vampire dust, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory of its malevolent existence.

The scene was one of desperation and despair as the surviving vampires realized their vehicles were far too slow to provide an effective escape. They darted through the darkened forest, branches slashing at their pale skin, while the sound of gunfire echoed in the distance. With every step they took, fear gnawed at their undead souls, knowing that their pursuers were relentless and their chances of survival dwindling.

As the vampire survivors came to a halt in the thick forest near the estate, thinking they were safe, Daniel's command reverberated through his earpiece. He wanted to make sure they understood the consequences of their actions. He pressed the communication button and issued his order.

"Did you see them retreat? ... Yes, initiate artillery strikes once they stop and believe they are out of harm's way," Daniel commanded.

His instructions were swiftly carried out. Ten kilometers off the coast of the Tessia Kingdom, an imposing Atlantean battleship floated on the calm sea, ready to unleash its devastating power. Penthesilea, the commanding officer, swiftly sent a series of commands to pinpoint the position of the vampire survivors. Within moments, the screen displayed their exact location—an opportunity that would not be wasted.

"We've locked onto their position, ma'am!" one of the sailors in the command room reported to Penthesilea.

"Switch to superheat charge and fire!" Penthesilea bellowed her command.

The four turrets on the battleship adjusted their aim, their large barrels pointing in the direction of the target area. Each turret was armed with three barrels, unleashing a barrage of superheated charges intended to eliminate every vampire within the designated zone.

The turrets, poised toward the sky, locked their trajectory onto the target area, employing precise calculations to minimize any margin of error or deviation from the intended path. The air crackled with anticipation as the battleship prepared to unleash its devastating firepower, a testament to the overwhelming might of the Atlantean technology.

With a resounding boom, the turrets unleashed their devastating power. Brilliant blue projectiles soared through the sky, tracing a fiery arc toward the retreating vampire survivors. As the projectiles found their mark, an explosive eruption shook the forest, unleashing shockwaves of destruction that decimated everything in their path.

Superheated blue flames ignited from the concentrated magical energy, engulfing the once tranquil surroundings and devouring the remnants of the vampires' existence. The intense heat transformed the earth into a blackened charred wasteland, and the ground near the center of the artillery explosions turned into shimmering glass.

Daniel paid no mind to the possibility of any survivors. His sole concern was that the message had been unequivocally conveyed.

With a firm determination, Daniel holstered his gun and stowed away all his tools in his 'Universal Pocket'. He proceeded towards the Willow Estate, now resembling a battlefield where his seven vanguard soldiers, encased in formidable power armor, dominated the scene.

Within the Willow clan, mages and guards had hoped for the reinforcements to turn the tide, unaware that the vampire mercenaries, their reinforcement had only prepared themselves to fight mages not Daniel, who was empowered by the max level Grand Hunter profession card, and the bona fide archangel, Michaela.

Now faced with the relentless onslaught from Daniel's seven vanguards in their formidable power armor, the guards and mages of the Willow family discovered that their spells were utterly useless against the impervious armor. Their attempts at providing cover were futile as their protective barriers crumbled like fragile glass beneath the relentless barrage of heavy machine gun fire.

Any guard or mage daring enough to display bravery and attempt to turn the tides of the battle was swiftly met with a hail of bullets, their lives extinguished the moment their heads exposed themselves from behind the small hill they had sought refuge behind.

One guard, unable to endure any longer, hastily removed his white shirt and waved it above the hill, a clear signal of surrender.

"I surrender! Surrender!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, hoping his voice could be heard amidst the deafening symphony of gunfire.

Witnessing this act, others quickly followed suit, frantically searching for any white fabric they could find—shirts, undershirts, even their own undergarments. Desperate to convey their readiness to surrender, they waved the makeshift white flags while shouting in unison.

Observing the surrendering scene unfold before him, Daniel couldn't help but find it slightly amusing. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he relayed his instructions through his earpiece.

"Penthesilea, prepare heavy-lift aircraft. We'll be taking numerous prisoners and seizing anything of value we can find within the estate. Also, is Wrath safe?" Daniel inquired, his voice calm yet concerned.

"Yes, we have successfully retrieved Miss Wrath while you were engaged in battle with the vampires. However, the medical equipment onboard the vehicle indicates that her condition remains unchanged. Therefore, it is imperative that we transfer her to our hospital at the base, where we have more advanced equipment available," Penthesilea responded through the communication device.

"Thank you for your swift action," Daniel expressed his gratitude to his dedicated subordinate.

"It is my duty, my lord," Penthesilea replied dutifully.

With the surrendering guards and mages waving their makeshift white flags, a collective sigh of relief echoed through their ranks as they witnessed Daniel's amused reaction. Daniel motioned with his hand, signaling one of his vanguard warriors in the hulking power armor to cease their aggression and capture the surrendering individuals.

As the hail of gunfire ceased, the mages and guards cautiously emerged from their hiding places, their hands raised in a gesture of submission, a clear indication that they harbored no intentions of resistance. They approached Daniel and his seven power armor-clad vanguards, their expressions a mix of fear and resignation.

In response to Daniel's command, Penthesilea swiftly coordinated the arrival of a colossal vertical landing aircraft, dwarfing the surroundings with its imposing size. Despite its substantial frame and heavy armor, the cutting-edge technology of the Atlantean artifact rendered the engines surprisingly silent. 

However, as the aircraft descended, the powerful gusts of wind it generated rustled the trees and kicked up clouds of dust and debris. Its presence alone conveyed an unmistakable message of the overwhelming force awaiting any who dared to defy.

As the aircraft made contact with the ground, a highly trained team of heavily armed reinforcements emerged, moving with precision and purpose. They swiftly established a secure perimeter around the estate, ensuring that no one could escape. Their presence served as a stark reminder that surrender was the sole viable option in the face of such formidable opposition.