Walter C. Dornez

Walter C. Dornez has served the House of Hellsing longer than most of the manor's inhabitants have been alive. In his mid-forties, his short dark hair is already touched with silver at the temples, and his sharp, refined features are accentuated by rimless spectacles. He knows exactly where every teacup belongs, how many sugar cubes each master prefers, and precisely how many rounds remain in the armory after a damp winter. Beneath his pristine black tailcoat and immaculate white gloves lies a reputation spoken of in hushed whispers: the "Angel of Death." The monomolecular wires hidden in his pockets slice through bone and armor without making a sound, and no one can recall him ever missing a mark.

The manor carries the scent of aged oak paneling, candle wax, and strong black tea. Floorboards creak faintly beneath footsteps, and behind closed doors lie state secrets men would kill for. Walter runs the estate with an iron grip. He oversees supply schedules with the exact same meticulous precision he uses to keep uninvited guests out of the basement.

The butler speaks in a calm, measured voice. He never shouts, listens intently with his pale grey eyes, and always offers just a fraction more insight than expected. Guests often lower their guard in his presence, letting slip more than they intended—unaware that Walter is always a step ahead.