“Don’t be ridiculous.”
In the darkness where the shapes of people couldn’t even be seen—or perhaps didn’t even exist—Schuma could almost be pictured frantically waving his hands.
“Still, that’s quite an embarrassing showing for someone like the Duke of Xenon. General—naturally you must’ve sent his daughter after the humans to exterminate them, didn’t you, sir?”
“Naturally.”
“Knowing that his daughter had been sent into battle, the Duke of Xenon would fight like a man possessed. You are truly wise, General,” he said in a needling fashion.
“But why didn’t you slay D within the castle’s walls?” the baron inquired with honest puzzlement, his head tilted to one side. “He’s certainly possessed of a monstrous power ill suited to his good looks. But you didn’t appear to entertain an iota of interest in finishing him here, General.”
“If I were to slay the Hunter in my castle, that would put an end to the festivities for which you were all assembled.”
“Aha. Then we were indeed brought back to life to take care of him?”
“Why else?”
“In that case—good,” the baron said in a tone that was satisfied and relieved. However, whether or not he truly meant what he said was unclear. “So, do you intend to leave the next move to the Duke of Xenon as well? At this rate, might those rascals not leave your territory?”
“They can’t get out,” the general said, his voice filled with a confidence as vast as the universe. “There’s no one on earth who can escape my mobile domain—‘the drifting land’—unless I wish it.”
“Excuse me, sir,” a different voice interrupted. It was Grand Duke Mehmet. “Has the general forgotten what the Hunter took from the warehouse?” It seemed that regardless of where they were, the Nobles could keep tabs on D and Sergei’s actions. “That happens to be a—”
“I know!” General Gaskell bellowed, his roar shredding the darkness. “But if you think a toy like that will work in Gaskell’s domain, I suggest all of you sit back and watch the show a while longer.”
__
Though Juke had set the wagon in motion to avoid the hail of deadly shrapnel from the sky, a forest fire had now replaced that threat. Flames rose on all sides as he narrowly slipped between them, but the next thing he knew, both the road ahead and the way he’d come were blocked by walls of orange.
“Got no choice now but to use the fireproof shield. But how long will it hold?”
The shield could be thought of as a kind of shroud of fireproof and heatproof fibers. Though it would envelop the wagon at the touch of a single button, it would last perhaps thirty minutes at best.
As Juke was about to press that button up in the driver’s seat, a voice from inside the wagon called out, “What are you doing? Hurry up and untie me, you nasty louts!” As demanding as it was, the female voice that reached his ears was oddly sweet.
“Oh, is our little flower-picker up? According to what Sergei said, she was supposed to sleep for another full day.”
“Will you not untie me? Then I shall do it myself.”
In the time it took Juke’s jaw to drop, a tremendous impact and sounds of destruction were transmitted through his body.
“Got free, did she?”
As he was turning to look, she drifted down from above with a splendid bouquet of colors and sat right beside him. The leech-grass blossom she pulled from her brow was thrown down on the ground. Juke’s hand was too slow in going for his pistol, and the girl’s cute little fingers drove right against his throat. Her fingernails were sharp as razors. One flick of them would slice his head clean off—Juke was certain of that much.
Taking his hand away from his gun, he asked, “You gonna kill me?”
“Stop the fire,” the little girl—Lady Ann—ordered him.
“Sorry, but that just ain’t possible,” Juke replied. “I’m not like the Nobility. I don’t have any powers or gadgets to put out a wildfire like this at the drop of a hat. Do you?”
“Foolish human,” the lovely little girl spat endearingly before muttering, “Where is Father? Will he not come to my rescue?”
Her forlorn state stirred a strange sympathy in Juke’s bosom.
“It’d be nice if he did, but let’s consider the possibility he doesn’t. Get back in the wagon.”
“Consider for a moment your station. Are you in any position to give me orders?”
The tips of her fingernails pressed a little deeper into his throat. Juke could feel the blood trickling down his skin.
“Point taken. But if you kill me, you think you could make it out of this blaze alone? There’s already a sea of flames all around us.”
The girl fell silent. The same countenance from which dignity had fairly wafted was now clearly shaken, with waves of terror rippling across it.
“Are you really a little Noble girl?” Juke asked, but as soon as he spoke, he wished he hadn’t.
Driving her pretty little nails in even deeper, the girl trembled with rage. “You shall regret that affront—while your body burns in the flames!”
An arm that seemed so fragile it would break at the merest touch easily hoisted Juke into the air. With such strength, she could undoubtedly hurl him out into the depths of the fiery inferno with no effort at all.
However, she wasn’t able to throw him. Her tiny frame had been pierced by a terribly eerie aura—every inch of her ached as if she’d been impaled. The pain was only imagined, but Ann sensed something, and the fingertips she touched to her cheek came away covered in fresh crimson blood. This person possessed a supernatural aura so strong it had an effect on her body that was physically impossible.
Still holding Juke up high, Lady Ann leapt down to the ground. Standing in the grass, the girl turned and saw a pair of silhouettes backed by the blistering heat of the crimson flames.
Lady Ann was left speechless. It wasn’t due to the ghastly aura radiating from one of the two figures—a young man in black who held a bizarre, polelike device. Even with his eyes shut, his beauty had stolen her soul.
“Put him down,” D said.
Ann didn’t move. She didn’t even intend to offer him any resistance. Her foe’s handsome features still had her entranced.
Said foe quickly moved forward. The instant she noticed this and prepared to counterattack, the lovely Noble girl took a lightning-swift blow to the side that knocked her unconscious on the spot.
“Tie her up,” D ordered Sergei, who was behind him. He then pointed the device in his right hand at the flames before them.
Although it looked just like a metallic pole, its end suddenly sent out new, thinner pipes that spread out like a parabolic antenna. If it was an antenna, it lacked the outer skin—it was merely the frame. Anyone who looked straight into that skeletal projection would’ve blinked at the bizarre scene they saw there.
A scene? Yes, a scene is exactly what it was. The whole interior of the antenna was spread with darkness. And glittering in the depths of that darkness were stars.
From where Sergei and Juke were, the antenna merely looked like a casing, but turning it toward the roaring flames, D threw a lever on its handle. Flames burned in the darkness of that tiny universe—an exact duplicate of the raging inferno that lay before the group. Without warning, the miniature flames disappeared, as did those on the ground.
Sergei and Juke voiced their surprise.
In an area a hundred feet wide, the flames had vanished, trees, soil, and all. Although the remaining fire burned out of control, any trees and grass the deadly tongues of flame might’ve spread to had vanished without a trace.
“Is that a ‘vacuum cleaner’?” Sergei asked in amazement, but no one answered him.
To be more precise, it was called a “teleportation disposal system.” With this simple device, Nobles could exercise their characteristic fastidiousness after a battle was done, using it to hurl the sprawling corpses of their fallen troops and the wreckage of their weapons into
the vacuum of outer space.
Was this what’d been in the container D had brought out of the warehouse?
__
“Look at him go, General,” Baron Schuma said teasingly. “With that, he’ll whisk your entire domain away to make his escape. It’s hard to believe he’s blind. Indeed, there’s something different about this man called D. Something fearful.”
“I suspect this would be a good time to dispatch someone important to slay D, wouldn’t it?” Grand Duke Mehmet solemnly said.
“May I intrude?” a female voice suddenly interrupted, her tone draining the darkness itself of its hues.
“If it isn’t Dr. Gretchen!” Baron Schuma and Grand Duke Mehmet both exclaimed, not only due to the ring in her voice, but also because they were overwhelmed by the gorgeous image it conjured up. Although they’d referred to her as “Doctor,” she sounded like a grand diva at an opera in the Capital.
“Up until now I’ve been watching quite intently, but I feel my time has finally come.”
Perhaps her dazzling voice overwhelmed the fiends, for none of them spoke. No, that wasn’t exactly right—through the darkness, they broadcast shock and fear by turns. But what could frighten these monsters that even D’s left hand had to admire? There was only one answer—this woman. Dr. Gretchen.
“Dear me, it’s grown so quiet. Am I to believe, then, that none of you has any objections?”
There was no reply.
The doctor’s voice was bright, like a flower, as she said, “I shall take that as a no, then. Off I go, General.”
“Wait.”
At that grave voice, a certain something flowed through the darkness. Relief.
“Oh, whatever is it?”
“I shall go,” Gaskell said.
The darkness stirred. Even Dr. Gretchen couldn’t hide her surprise.
“So, you’re finally taking the field? I get the feeling it’s still a bit too early for that,” said Grand Duke Mehmet.
“Indeed. It looks like the rest of us will have been brought back to life for nothing.”
Needless to say, this sarcastic remark came from Baron Schuma.
Out in the darkness, a presence was felt. General Gaskell had risen. That in itself was enough to draw cries of pain from the woman and the men—the air about him was that intense.
A wounded lion still lurked outside in the form of the Duke of Xenon. Lady Ann was also the Hunter’s foe.
How will you face them all, D?
__
II
__
The wagon ignored the fire as it raced forward. Every time D’s vacuum cleaner sucked up the flames, their safety zone grew steadily. And when they finally reached the road, D raced down it on his horse.
Seeing D riding right beside them, Juke clucked his tongue as he worked the reins. Even the flames themselves were afraid to fall near the gorgeous Hunter—and he was blind. The man had finally realized this while watching the Hunter, who made no move to brush away the burning leaves and branches raining down all around them.
“Looks like we’ll make it out, eh?” the transporter remarked, allowing some wishful thinking to escape because they had such a man on their side.
“We’re still in his domain,” D said, the distant flames reflecting off his face.
“But we’ll probably get out of it soon. Domain of the great General Gaskell or not, it can’t go on forever.”
“Don’t forget that his territory can shift.”
“That’s what I mean—isn’t there any limit to it?”
“There is.”
“Then we should be fine. Before long we’ll get through this, and sooner or later we’ll get out. All our cargo is vacuum sealed, at any rate.”
“This is Gaskell’s domain.”
“Hey!” Juke said with a scowl. “Sometimes I have to wonder about you. Whose side are you on, anyway?”
Realizing how that might be taken, the man grew pale a second later. But D didn’t seem to mind at all.
“Incoming.”
“Huh?” Juke said in reply because the voice had been so terribly hoarse.
“You probably know this already,” the same tone continued, “but an incredibly powerful opponent is closing on you. Odds are it’s the lord of the land.”
“General Gaskell?” Juke cried out.
“Calm yourself! Just calm down. You that scared of him?”
Baited by the hoarse voice, Juke got a strange expression on his face as he replied, “You could say that.”
“He’s not that scary. After all, you came into his lands and you’ll be leaving again. You can’t know how scared those who’ve laid down roots here are.”
That was right on the mark, and Juke twisted his lips and said no more.
“Stop the wagon,” D commanded, in his own voice.
Though Juke looked at him in surprise, the man didn’t say anything.
The shock of the sudden stop made Sergei stick his head out the window and ask what’d happened, but on seeing D jump down, he too fell silent.
The fire had lost some of its strength, but flames burned on all sides of them. Riding up thirty feet ahead of the wagon, D took the vacuum cleaner and pointed it all around, quickly creating a clearing about fifty yards in diameter. He then swung his right arm and the cleaner, which looked like it would blow away on the first gust of wind, went sailing thirty feet right on target, landing on Juke’s lap in the driver’s seat.
“Stay out of this.”
At D’s quiet but forceful declaration, both Juke and Sergei merely nodded. No matter what happened next, they realized they wouldn’t be able to so much as lift a finger.
It was perhaps a minute later that there was the thunder of approaching hoofbeats from nowhere in particular. D turned to the left.
“Ah, so he’s coming by a road that doesn’t exist? Just what you’d expect from the master of the domain.”
The flames vanished instantly. Stands of trees bent to either side as if they were made of rubber. And between them a team of six black horses clomped into the clearing, pulling a carriage behind them.
“Oh, my,” was the cry that escaped D’s left hand.
Everything about them was huge. The black horses were twice as big as normal ones, standing about ten feet tall from the ground up to the top of their manes. If used in combat, they would’ve been fearsome weapons. And the carriage drawn by these massive steeds was proportioned accordingly. Reflecting the distant flames on its surface, its body was made of steel. There wasn’t a single unadorned part on it—the steel was completely covered with fiendish carvings. To be more precise, they included the faces of the deceased still wearing clearly agonized expressions. Each was an incredible rictus, eyes bulging in search of the salvation that would never come and tongues hanging out. To the common person, this carriage looked like the trusty vehicle the grim reaper used to carry off the deceased, or perhaps a reflection of the living fires of hell that awaited them.
Stillness held sway in the world. Off in the distance, the flames continued to burn out of control, coupled with the sound of trees splitting. The howling of winds brought by the fire never died down. Yet Juke and Sergei both realized they were in the midst of a perfect silence. All five of their senses had been numbed and were beginning to play tricks on them. Or perhaps the world itself was going mad.
“Well, I’ll be . . .” D’s left hand groaned. It could’ve just as easily been taken for a cry of pain. “Such a ghastly aura . . . It flies in the face of nature. So this is General Gaskell—a Greater Noble second only to the Sacred Ancestor?”
It was almost as if it knew how the carriage’s occupant would make his entrance.
The creak of old-fashioned hinges broke the silence. And yet there was no sound. Such a quiet battlefield. At the moment the carriage door opened, a broad step came out under the portal, which was over three feet off the ground. And what then leaned out could only be described as a black cloud.
The first thing that c
ame into view was an enormous head—which didn’t have a single hair on it. A silver mask hid half of the face. And perhaps to ward off the deadly rays of the sun, the remainder of the face and head was shrouded in black. From the neck down he wore a pitch-black cape, but beneath it the shape of his powerful shoulders was distinctly visible, like a minor mountain. Half of his cape was tossed aside, revealing a black jacket embroidered in bizarre patterns with golden thread. His right hand was held behind his back, out of sight, but from it stretched the hilt of an all-black longsword—though it might’ve been better to call it a greatsword.
As a black pillar of a leg came down on it, the iron step creaked. The gigantic form was gradually revealed in a manner reminiscent of the way genies appeared from bottles in ancient legends. Treading the last step, the giant lumbered down to the ground. As the massive figure standing more than six and a half feet tall stared down at D, less than fifteen feet lay between them.
Was this the same Greater Noble that Baron Schuma and the others had mocked back at his castle? What stood before D was indeed nothing less than a genie, impossibly huge and with the whole world in his grip. And what should that genie do but bend over with his right hand against his chest in a respectful bow, like a vassal paying homage to his king.
“So, you are D, I take it? I’ve heard of you. I am General Gaskell,” he said, his tone equally courteous.
In response, the blind young warrior also adorned in the color of the darkness replied in his usual fearless tone, “I’m D.”
At that instant, sound returned to the world. Death was transformed into life.
“Ah!” Gaskell said, for now it was his turn to gasp. “You’re everything I’ve heard and more. It stands to reason that Madame Laurencin was slain and the Duke of Xenon failed to measure up. Your average country Nobility could come at you in packs and still not have the slightest effect.”
“My job right now is guarding that wagon,” D said. “Stand back and let us pass—or else.”
If anyone else had been there to hear it, the threat would’ve sounded so reckless it wouldn’t have been surprising for them to go mad out of sheer despair. It was essentially a declaration of war.
However, the instant the words reached the ears of the paralyzed Juke and Sergei, involuntary cries of appreciation rang out in the depths of their hearts. They understood. D, the gorgeous warrior, was not afraid. For he, too, was a fiend.
Vampire Hunter D: Dark Road Parts One and Two Page 20