“Impressive. This is what you can do when you can’t see? You’re not an average person after all. This suit is made of superdense dupronium. Ah!” he gasped, as D bounded, looking like a haunting black bird as he descended in the twilight. His blade flashed out. However, this second attack struck the right arm the Nobleman had raised to shield his head and was deflected.
“That’s what happens when I’m ready for you. It’s dupronium to start with, but it’s been treated so that I can will it to be even stronger. And I won’t let my guard down again.”
And then the duke dashed into action. Over five tons of armor closed on D with all the speed of a swallow in flight. His left hand threw a hook. When the punch was halfway to impacting on D’s face, a three-foot blade slipped from the duke’s arm from wrist to elbow and the hook became a horizontal slash. There was a sharp cutting sound in the air—and in a copse far beyond the reach of the blade, five or six neatly severed trees fell across the road. The speed was so great it created a vacuum, and anything that touched it would split open like the famous slice of the monstrous Kamaitachi.
The bottom of D’s coat suddenly opened like a mouth. The duke’s blade was coming back—but a split second before it did, the Hunter kicked off the ground. Becoming a bolt of black lightning, he flew at Roland’s chest.
“Aaaargh!” the giant bellowed, his cry accompanied by blue electrical discharge.
The enormous armored combatant staggered back smoothly. Perhaps the thrust at his chest didn’t suffice, as the Hunter’s blade came around for a second attack.
Roland’s massive, five-ton form sailed easily through the air. A great branch thirty feet up in an enormous tree by the side of the road bent under his weight as he stood straight up on it. Undoubtedly this exoskeleton could walk across a damp sheet of paper without tearing it.
“So, does this mean your own will’s grown stronger, too?” the armored figure asked, pressing a hand against his chest. There were no streaks of blood to be seen with the pale sparks. “Perhaps I’d have been better off going with a regular metal suit of armor after all. At any rate, I’ll take my leave here. But my daughter’s life depends on this. You’ll see me again, and soon.”
The gigantic form left the branch—and as the Hunter stood there, his foe flew off into a stand of trees in a manner that suggested nothing short of antigravity. He hadn’t made a single sound.
“Capitalizing on your injury—or should I say, your blindness? The only reason you were able to block his attack was because you couldn’t see!” the hoarse voice said, its tone carrying a sigh of relief.
In a battle to the death, combatants used their own two eyes to follow the movements of their foe. But even D wouldn’t have been able to follow the speed of the exoskeleton. Only by relying on blind instinct had he deflected the swift and deadly blow, then counterattacked.
“You really gonna be blind like this for a while? I suppose it’s better for that guy, at least,” the Hunter’s left hand said to him in all seriousness while, moving as if he could actually see, D went over to where he’d set Rosaria down by the side of the road and scooped her up.
__
The exoskeleton was equipped with automatic repair circuits. They would work to restore not only the armor, but also the person using it.
D’s sword had narrowly missed Roland’s heart, instead piercing his right lung clean through to his back. The laws of physics said it was impossible to penetrate the armor, yet the swordsman had come within a fraction of an inch of skewering the man within it—thanks to his peerless skill with a blade. What’s more, Roland’s cellular tissue wouldn’t knit back together. An injury from an ordinary sword or spear—or even from a bullet—could be healed by the ageless and immortal flesh of the Nobility in the blink of an eye, with the wound closing immediately. Even nerve-cell damage that human beings never recovered from could be repaired by an ability on par with the mythical Hydra. It wasn’t a special sword. And this hadn’t been some bizarre sword technique that could bend three-dimensional space. It was just an ordinary thrust. And yet, the ravaged cells gave the duke searing pain, and the lifeblood gushing out required immediate medical attention.
“That damned monster.”
Coming from a Noble’s lips, it seemed like a joke. However, shock and fear supported the truth of his words. The medical systems had told him it would take a full year for him to recover completely.
“I can’t wait that long. At any rate, just give me makeshift aid. Once repairs to the suit are finished, I’m moving out.”
Thirty minutes later, the computer gave him the okay.
__
For travelers on the Noble-infested Frontier, transfusion equipment was an absolute necessity. In addition to bites from vampires, wounds from the teeth and claws of monsters required quick treatment to staunch the bleeding, disinfect the wounds, and replace the lost blood. From kits even a child could use to the artificial blood synthesizers normally carried by large-scale caravans and transport parties, there were easily several hundred varieties crafted by businesses in the Capital and out on the Frontier or even by private physicians. The procedure Sergei had performed on Gordo had involved one of the simple kits, but it had kept him alive, at any rate.
After putting him to sleep in the wagon along with Juke, Sergei went over to the villain lying in the grass. Seeing the innocent face with a crimson flower sticking out of her forehead, Sergei got the feeling he’d become a merciless killer.
“So, what do I do now?” he mused, head tilting to one side as he looked down at the girl.
The ironclad rule of the Frontier was that monsters were to be disposed of, by burning whenever possible. There was no need to dig them a grave.
“Out of my own interest, I’d really love to keep this one alive and bring her with us, but I’ve got those two and all our cargo to look after. Even supposing D came back, we’d still be too short handed to do it. I guess I’ll have to get rid of her after all, won’t I?”
A hoarse voice said, “Bring her along.”
“What?”
Turning in amazement, Sergei saw D emerge from the depths of the forest.
“Did you just tell me to bring her along?”
What had become of his cyborg horse? There were a million things the man wanted to ask, but the second he saw Rosaria over the Hunter’s shoulder, none of them mattered anymore. She’d been saved.
As usual, D didn’t reply to Sergei’s question but said instead, “That girl has a father. A Noble of preeminent skill even among those summoned by the general.”
“What, take her as a hostage? That’s underhanded, and I want no part of it.”
“Staying alive is your primary concern,” D said. “You can think about what’s right or wrong later. If you survive, that is.”
“But as long as we’ve got you along, we’ll be okay, won’t we?”
“The sky’s getting stormy again,” D said, putting one hand to the brim of his traveler’s hat and looking down at Lady Ann.
The Hunter probably knew how badly he’d wounded Roland, as well as his recuperative abilities and the effect of the automated repair system.
“He’ll be coming soon. To correct his daughter’s mistake.”
“Huh?”
A rumble from the earth swallowed Sergei’s cry of surprise—it was a violent quaking. Though the man reached out in desperation, there was nothing to grab hold of, and he was down on his ass in less than a second.
D made a great leap back. In the spot where he’d been, the ground rose up. And what appeared in a shower of black earth was the same gigantic exoskeleton that D had wounded a short time earlier.
“He sure does hustle,” the Hunter’s left hand remarked with admiration.
“I’m in a hurry, you see, D.”
“You said you were concerned about your daughter, didn’t you?” D asked, the quaking of the earth having already given way to calm.
“Precisely. My daughter was one of those summoned
. And if I don’t slay you, my daughter will be the next sent out here.”
“Is that what Gaskell said?”
As D spoke, both his hands hung easily by his side, making no move toward the hilt of his weapon.
“Yes.”
“Your daughter’s right there,” D said, pointing down by the feet of the toppled Sergei.
The electronic eyes set in the exoskeleton pivoted around in that direction, and Roland let out a little startled cry of “Lady Ann!”
Hurrying back to his feet, Sergei took what looked like a nail from his belt and pressed it against the girl’s forehead.
“Stop—or you’ll pay the price!”
“That’s no way to speak to the Nobility.”
Sergei shouted, “Get the hell out of here, and be quick about it! If not, I’ll drive this thing smack into the middle of your daughter’s brain. I know exactly how you mourned your daughter before.”
“How could you?” Roland said, his tone heavy.
“Because I’m the best damn archaeologist on the highways! This is where you fought Gaskell’s army. Which is why—”
Eyes that were supposedly lenses gave off a red glow, but the crimson beams of light were intercepted a foot shy of striking Sergei right between the eyes. D’s blade had been thrust out horizontally to deflect them.
The beams assailed the armored figure, who narrowly escaped them with a move at ungodly speed, suffering no more than some melting to the top of his head.
“You’re quick, D!”
Before the giant finished speaking, the figure in black seemed to be drawn right into his chest. The giant dashed to the left. D swung his blade whistling through the air in the same direction. His hand had grasped it up at the guard, but slid all the way down to the end of the hilt. But wasn’t he blind? What allowed him to move with such speed and attack with such precision?
The arc limned by his blade followed the leaping giant closely, making contact with the abdominal plates. And in a frightening display, the steel shredded like paper.
His fluid movements showing their first disruption, the giant landed some twenty-five feet away and fell to one knee, his balance thrown off. The earth shook. Ordinarily, he landed as light as a feather. As he looked upward with his electronic eyes, he caught a handsome form flying through the air. With his sword raised to strike, he looked so beautiful, so deadly. When that blade came whistling down, it would effortlessly cleave the heavy head in two, and bisect the rest of the unit as well.
With a mellifluous sound, D’s body bounced upward. All of the power he’d put into that blow had been channeled back at him. Twisting his body lithely as he landed and raising his blade to eye level, D realized that the giant was holding a long spear straight out over his head. Bracing it with both hands, Roland, the Duke of Xenon, had managed to parry D’s sword. But where in the world had he kept the more than twenty-foot-long weapon? What’s more, D’s blow had been calculated to kill. Given the Hunter’s location, his power, and his force of will, what kind of weapon could resist being cut by him?
“This spear is special. It’s a combination of ions and suspended molecules. When it materializes, it has five thousand times the strength of dupronium steel. Even the man known as D can’t cut through it,” Roland said, his words crafted of pure confidence. “What’s more, I have this little trick—watch!”
The armored figure raised the spear by his side. It promptly vanished. Only the armored hand stretched toward D. It was a second later that the long spear pierced the figure in black through the chest and out the back. No, it didn’t actually pierce him—where D’s chest and back were impaled, they eddied as if space had been distorted. Nuclear fusion—the long spear had suddenly appeared, occupying part of the same space as D’s body. Accordingly, rather than pierce him, it was more accurate to say it grew out of him.
As D tumbled forward, he braced his sword against the ground, clinging to it as he breathed his last.
__
II
__
“There are plenty of suspended molecules, you see.”
Roland’s right arm rose in the air, and a spear appeared in his hand. His left rose, and there was another one. A third appeared and he made a swing of the bunch, following which they vanished in an instant.
“As you can see, I can make as many as I like wherever I like, and make them disappear whenever I wish. So,” the giant said, swiveling his head to focus on Sergei’s location, “are you going to give me back my daughter?”
“Not a chance,” Sergei replied, wiping once at the cold sweat on his face. “You’d kill me as soon as I returned her. But I’ve taken precautions against that.”
He thrust his right hand into his coat.
“You and General Gaskell fought on this battlefield. The records say so. Everything was recorded, about the way you fought, how you looked for each other’s weak points, and what you discovered. I found this earlier not far from here. I don’t know which of you left it in the repository, but it’s sure gonna come in handy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the massive armored figure said as he drew closer.
Once the duke was about ten feet away, Sergei pulled his right hand out of his jacket and raised it high. It held a tiny, withered leaf. But it had a startling effect.
The armored figure backed away, shielding both eyes. Its ungodly weightlessness was lost. Its heels dug at the earth, and the ground quaked ferociously.
“You little bastard—I can’t believe you . . .” Roland said, nearly panting the words.
“This is no time to stand around threatening me. Here you go!”
Sergei threw the leaf, and while it hung weakly in the air, the exoskeleton spun around and dashed off into the woods. More than the dwindling rumble, the movement of the falling trees told Sergei that the threat had passed.
Sinking right on the spot, he said, “I wasn’t really sure that would work—I must’ve been out of my mind!”
And the second he spoke, his brow was covered with sweat. For the next full minute he took deep breaths, slowly picking himself up and collecting the leaf in question from a spot on the ground about six feet away. The way he stared at it said quite clearly he still couldn’t believe it.
“This is it, eh?”
The short stalk he grasped between two fingers and held up to quiver in the wind was aconite—more commonly known as “wolfsbane.”
__
“At any rate, I guess I’d better bury D,” Sergei said, turning around.
Slumped forward on the ground, D did indeed have a long spear running through his chest and out his back. Despite the fact that dhampirs were as close as possible to the Nobility, or perhaps precisely because of it, everyone on the Frontier knew that a stake right through their heart was a hopeless situation.
“You know, I thought D was this incredible freak, but I guess there’s always someone tougher. And to think that guy’s weakness is one little leaf. The world’s just full of contradictions, I suppose.”
“Damn right it is.”
That familiar hoarse tone made Sergei tense up. Though he looked around in astonishment, there was no sign of anybody. So who’d been speaking with that voice all along? As ridiculous as it sounded, Sergei had figured D had been using ventriloquism all that time. Needless to say, he didn’t know why the Hunter would do such a thing. However, D had expired, but the voice was there.
“What are you standing around for? Hey! Pull the spear out!” the voice ordered him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Looking around him, Sergei inquired in a tremulous tone, “Wh-where are you?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions. Are you gonna hurry up and remove this thing or not?”
“Wh-why don’t you do it yourself?”
“I could, but I’ve got other, bigger things to attend to. So, are you gonna pull it out or what? If you don’t, I’ll tell D you refused to cooperate!”
“Tell D—what do yo
u mean?”
“He’s coming back to life.”
“What?”
Sergei was stunned. What quickly brought him back to normal was something he’d read in a book while boning up on archaeology. The third volume of Domitius Browning’s Lore of the Nobility described exactly the situation that was before him—among the Nobility, there were rare individuals who could be pierced through the heart with a wooden stake yet come back to life again if that stake were removed.
“Pull it out.”
This time he walked over to D’s corpse like a man under a spell and grabbed the shaft of the spear protruding from the Hunter’s back. It was a fearful undertaking. The spear was gripped by the unnatural strength of D’s muscles, and even pulling with all his might, Sergei couldn’t free more than an inch of it at a time. Out of breath and dripping sweat, Sergei was half dead by the time he jerked the last inch free. As he let out a sigh that was close to a death rattle, he told the disembodied voice, “I got it out.”
“Good for you.”
Even on hearing this snotty reply, he didn’t feel angry. Discarding the spear, Sergei collapsed on the grass, but he still kept a watchful eye on D’s condition. Nothing had changed about the way the Hunter was slumped forward. The way his left hand was positioned under his chest suggested a natural reflex he’d had to try to pull the spear out the instant it’d been put through him.
“Huh?”
From the area where the left hand vanished under the Hunter the man saw something strange. It had glowed. A pale light was shining by D’s chest. Though he was curious to see what it was, at the same time an unsettling feeling had come over him that left him unable to move. After this, he saw no more of the blue light. Silence continued to stain the twilit forest a dusky blue.
Just then, the hoarse voice rang out, saying, “Hey, come over here.”
This time, Sergei didn’t have to be told twice. He was curious to start with—all he’d needed was an opportunity. He crawled over on his knees. When he reached D’s side, the left hand came right up from the corpse’s chest to rest on Sergei’s right knee.
Vampire Hunter D: Dark Road Parts One and Two Page 18