Noble Front

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  “The way it’s going, I figure it’ll be a cakewalk inside, too!”

  As the left hand had said, once the doors had been pushed open, the rooms and corridors that lay beyond were left utterly exposed.

  When D halted, it was in the same dance hall he’d passed through the night before. There was nothing there. Only a sadly vacant expanse of floor lay exposed to the sunlight.

  “Was that all just illusions?” said the hoarse voice.

  Not replying, D surveyed their surroundings. “Not all of it, it seems,” he said.

  “Huh?”

  The hoarse voice’s puzzled grunt was overlaid with the thud of an impact.

  With ferocious speed, D swung around the black arrow he gripped in his left fist.

  Several iron arrows had been embedded in the floor. D’s superhuman skill, however, had allowed him to catch the first of them in midair.

  Five people were racing toward him from a door set in the west wall. All were clad in bulky suits of powered armor.

  “These ain’t androids or synthetic beings—they’re real, live human beings!” the hoarse voice exclaimed.

  Simultaneous attacks with sword and spear saw those weapons batted forcefully into the air, the attackers clutching their left wrists and squatting down on the spot. They’d suffered dislocations just being parried by D’s blade.

  “Are you in his employ?” D asked.

  Tears in his eyes, the one who appeared the eldest of them managed to squeak out the words, “Yes, we work in the castle. But everyone has the wrong idea about the grand duke.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Please, just leave him be,” the others added, unanimous in their support. The look on their faces declared that they spoke in earnest.

  “And just what sorta man is he?”

  The sudden change in D’s voice left the employees looking all around, but they quickly remembered the pain in their own wrists and stiffened.

  “A good one. He gives us proper credit for the work we do.”

  “Not once has he ever asked us to do anything we didn’t wanna do.”

  “And the wages he pays are more than fair.”

  “He even pays subsidies to the families we left behind in the village. If we’d stayed in the village, there’s no way we’d be doing as well as all that.”

  “That very same village has struck a deal with the grand duke to provide human sacrifices at regular intervals in exchange for his technology,” D said, his gaze penetrating the men.

  Falling silent, they looked away.

  “You admit it’s true, then?” D asked, pressing them mercilessly.

  “Well—it can’t be helped,” the first one replied. “Whether they’re offered up on a set day or just taken out of the blue, it’s all the same to the victim. And without ’em, the grand duke can’t survive.”

  “So as long as things are good for you, you’re fine with him draining the villagers, are you?”

  “Like hell we are!” the man shouted so hard his body quaked. His fists shook violently. “But our village only survives thanks to the grand duke’s power. That being the case, it’s only sensible we offer him a little blood to show our gratitude, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, this is a symbiotic relationship, eh?” the hoarse voice laughed.

  “Those who are fed on become creatures like the Nobility,” D said in a terribly soft tone. “Then they attack their families and neighbors, until at some point they end up getting a stake hammered through their hearts—is that sensible?”

  “Th-that can’t be helped,” a young man called out, the words emerging like a creak from a door. “It’s for the good of the village. A couple of folks will have to be sacrificed.”

  “How old are you?”

  The Hunter’s unexpected query gave the young man pause.

  “Me? T-twenty-two,” he stammered.

  “That’s the age of a grown man. In which case there’s only one thing to do. Protect the weak, even at the cost of your own life. Has all this time getting rewards from the Nobility and growing fat in their castle made that the most important thing to you instead? Seems like you’re trying to defend the wrong thing.”

  Not only that young man but all the others as well went pale.

  “It’s not the village that’s important to you. It’s your current lifestyle. A life where you have to flatter the Nobility and say what they’re doing is right. Try to defend that with this arrow.”

  The wind whistled. On seeing the arrow that’d been embedded in the marble slab at his feet, the young man backed away with a squeal, then collapsed in a heap.

  “Where’s the grand duke’s resting place?”

  The question, in a low voice, made the turncoats freeze. They felt as if they were looking upon a gorgeous Grim Reaper. And if they didn’t answer, he’d have no qualms about lopping off their heads. There wasn’t a second to spare.

  “In the subterranean crypts.”

  The answer came from behind them—and the other side of the door.

  II

  When a semitransparent globe glided in, the human servants all exclaimed in unison, “Vyken?!”

  More than six feet in diameter, the globe hovered by magnetism—a fact attested to by the blue glow from its bottom. Seated in the bronze device that filled the lower half of the globe was a young man with black hair. His electric blue cape was a majestic sight.

  “I believe we met last night, D,” the young man in the globe said to him. “I’m surprised you fought the grand duke and lived to tell the tale. Although from the look of the grand duke, it was abundantly clear you’re no ordinary individual.”

  “Where’s the grand duke?”

  “Allow me to show you the way.”

  A buzz went through his colleagues. The glow of hope had been extinguished in less than ten seconds.

  “Vyken, how can you say that?”

  “Would you betray the grand duke?” they protested, their words falling from their mouths like gouts of blood.

  But the young man silenced them with a single sentence.

  “The grand duke instructed me to do so.”

  He turned the globe around without a sound and glided out the door.

  “Come with me.”

  D wasn’t about to decline. Not giving the Nobleman’s servants another glance, he turned to walk off, the hem of his coat flying out around him.

  Continuing down the corridor, the Hunter was greeted by a gigantic hole before he’d gone fifty yards. It was fifteen feet across, and the globe had stopped right on top of it.

  “There are stairs, but they’re a bother,” said Vyken. “I’ll thank you to jump down.”

  And with that, the sphere was swallowed up by the hole. D followed after it without a moment’s hesitation.

  Falling over five hundred yards, he came to a gentle stop as if he’d been caught by invisible hands. It was probably a gravity buffer.

  “Go through this doorway and you’ll find the grand duke’s grave,” the waiting globe said, and then it went through.

  Without so much as a door, the grave was a simple, unassuming place surrounded by stone walls, floor, and ceiling. Unlike those of other Nobles, the walls weren’t adorned with golden busts of the departed or paintings depicting things they might never look upon—the sun and its radiance. Nor was there a chorus to praise the dead the instant they set foot in here. All there was, was a stone coffin of the same frugal material as the walls.

  “What’ll you do, D?” Vyken asked after a deep bow to the coffin from within his globe. “You could probably pierce the grand duke’s heart right through that ten-ton sarcophagus. But that would mean death for everyone in the village of Schwartzen and the surrounding area.”

  Still gazing at the coffin, D said, “A nuclear strike?”

  “You can tell that at a glance? Well, that’s D for you. Lay so much as a finger on the grand duke’s coffin and the village will be engulfed by a ten-megaton blast. If you’re fine with that,
turn your blade on him.”

  “Are you fine with that?”

  A turbulence that D alone would know flitted across Vyken’s face.

  “You haven’t been made one of the Nobility. Are you fine with that?”

  “All I do is in keeping with the wishes of the grand duke.”

  “Are you fine with it?”

  “I am.”

  Before Vyken had finished saying that, the globe made a harsh sound. Though supported by a gravity field that could stabilize a million tons of mass, the globe leaned to one side. It was a blow from D’s blade, brought low as he landed from his leap—but when had the Hunter leapt, or drawn, or struck?

  Unable to right the globe, the man tried to put it into motion. And then there was another blow to the globe—and a white crack appeared in the semitransparent metal. Such strength the Hunter had, but even more amazing was his precision.

  Vyken thought he must be having a nightmare, yet a grin still rose on his lips. So, he credits me as an enemy, does he? the man mused.

  Steering the globe to the far side of the room, he then went on the offensive. He couldn’t weather a third blow from D. The instant the figure of beauty in black passed overhead, Vyken struck a key.

  A split second before D could bring his blade down he saw something that resembled a slim antenna shoot from the bottom half of the globe. The scenery around him changed.

  D was at the center of blistering white light.

  “A sealed dimension!” the hoarse voice said with amazement. “I can’t believe they can transport things so easily. I knew teleportation itself had been perfected, but I didn’t think it’d be possible to move at such close range.”

  “Can you get us out?” D asked, not sounding the least bit upset. However, his left hand perceived something unusual in his tone. As a dhampir, D had the blood of the Nobility in his veins. And being in a flood of eye-searing light was affecting the normal operation of his body. For this wasn’t just any light.

  “Th-this is sunlight!” the hoarse voice cried in despair. “I ain’t talking about just the composition of it. It’s the real deal. This dimension is a magical space. Shit, this is just the kinda trap a Noble’d come up with!”

  It was common knowledge that sunlight had a fatally destructive effect on the Nobility. Both the OSB and the human armies had spent considerable time fighting the Nobility, and both had analyzed sunlight and created rays mimicking its composition, blasting Nobles with them in the hopes of destroying them. Those using them learned, to their great horror, just how ineffective such tactics were. For the Nobles had bared their fangs in that sunlight, utterly unaffected.

  At present, it was clear that both the legends and fact of Nobles’ destruction by sunlight—what could be described as demons being defeated by a holy symbol—conformed to religious principles. Vampires, as demons, could not prevail against holy symbols, and sunlight was one such emblem of divinity. From the time it rose in the east until it set over the western horizon, the sun could destroy Nobility with its light.

  Nevertheless, the light that currently seared every inch of D’s flesh was that of a sacred sun that’d sprung into being in the middle of the night. That being the case, the only explanation that came to mind was that he was being exposed to sunlight that ignored time through magical means. D was indeed being bathed in the sacred rays of the sun.

  “How you holding up?” his left hand asked in a stiff tone.

  “I’m managing. Destroy it,” the Hunter replied in a forceful tone. And by “it” he meant the sealed dimension.

  “Gimme a sec—this is gonna be a little tricky.”

  A tiny mouth opened in his left hand. And in it, a blue flame danced alluringly.

  “Now then, as mayor, I’d like to announce the undertaking of a new venture,” Bezo Shakuri declared with such aplomb it was difficult to believe that a day earlier he’d been deputy mayor and fawned over the previous leader.

  The staff of the town hall, who were arrayed in a straight line, bowed in unison. They had no choice but to do so. In accordance with the laws of the village, when the mayor died, he or she was succeeded by the deputy mayor. Sensing the tone of his announcement, the staff remained silent.

  Hostilities had already begun between those who supported Bezo as mayor and those who opposed him.

  Perhaps disheartened by their utter lack of response, Mayor Bezo coughed once, then continued, “Professor Logo Chaney has been sent here to our village by the Capital’s Noble Ruins Survey Office to act as an intermediary with Grand Duke Bergenzy. It has been decided that in exchange for learning the secrets of the Nobility’s devices in his grace’s possession, we will grant him once sacrifice per week, four in total every month. No disobedience will be tolerated.”

  “Isn’t that tyranny?”

  It wasn’t unexpected that somebody would voice such an objection. In this case, it came from secretary Jacos.

  The dam broken, others followed suit.

  “Yeah!”

  “We should call an assembly!”

  “Human sacrifice? What the hell are you thinking?”

  “Don’t get too big for your britches, baldy!”

  As the protests and insults continued to fly, the new mayor just leaned back and laughed heartily.

  The chatter ceased.

  “Excellent. It’s clear to see who has no regard for the best interests of the village. Since you’ve turned your back on your mayor, you’re prepared to pay the price, I take it?”

  The catcalls instantly resumed.

  “Yeah, we’re willing to lose our jobs!”

  “You’d better have eyes in the back of your head!”

  “We’re gonna look into all your dealings and have you brought up before the circuit court, you know.”

  “Say what you like,” Bezo replied. “Everyone who just hurled abuse at me is to leave town hall immediately. Your salary will be paid through today.”

  Nearly a third of them left.

  As soon as they’d indignantly stomped out of the town hall, someone else said to them, “So, are we all going to take him down or what?”

  Each member of the opposition group gave her a look that was a mix of distrust and appreciation. On account of they’d all thought of her as being neutral. There was no saying which side she’d end up on.

  “I left with the rest of you,” the woman continued. “Trust me.”

  Several of them nodded at her words.

  “Could we get together somewhere today? Somebody said something about looking into his dealings, and I’ve got mounds of dirt on him. Did you know he’s got a woman on the side?”

  “Who is she?” a man from General Affairs asked, the piqued curiosity keen in his voice.

  “The one from the bar—Marcella.”

  “Really?!” a number of them exclaimed, and the woman got a depressed look on her face. But the next voice was determined enough to wipe it off again.

  “Okay, how about this: come to the former mayor’s house before sundown. We’ll hash out a plan there. His wife asked us to. I’m not about to let anybody so quick to throw around the word ‘human sacrifice’ call himself our mayor,” said Jacos.

  The heads of the determined revolutionaries nodded in unison.

  Suddenly, the light receded.

  He could feel the coldness of the stone from where one knee made contact with it. D was in an area surrounded on all four sides by stone. The torments of more than an hour in that light were made manifest in the way he breathed raggedly and wasn’t able to immediately stand up straight.

  A figure glided up behind him like a shadow.

  “Are you okay?” asked a feminine voice.

  Letting out a breath, D got to his feet.

  The woman backed away.

  “Incredible . . . You’re back on your feet after so much sunlight . . .”

  “Françoise, wasn’t it?” asked the hoarse voice.

  “Excuse me?”

  “We met last night.” T
his time, it was D who spoke.

  The woman became confused.

  “The you I met last night—was an imitation.”

  Eyes with a mysterious gleam locked onto the woman in the lavender dress, perplexing her still further.

  “And where did that happen?”

  “Where am I?” D inquired.

  “Beneath the castle’s west tower.”

  D’s eyes focused on the area behind Françoise —and the doorway through which she’d entered. As he moved toward it with long strides, she ran after him, saying, “Please accompany me back to my quarters. I’d like to hear all about whoever made this imitation of me. It was—”

  Halting, D heaved a heavy sigh. He hadn’t recovered yet.

  “The way things stand, you’ll collapse in a couple of minutes’ time,” she told him. “You’ve taken enough damage to kill a normal dhampir a hundred times over. But I can heal you. What’s more, I’d like to have a visitor.”

  “What?!” the hoarse voice exclaimed.

  Steadying her breathing, Françoise said quite pointedly, “The only person who could’ve made an imitation me is my younger brother. Where did you happen to meet him?”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Jozen.”

  “Then it was someone else.”

  Françoise drank down the puddle of despair that’d formed in her heart, just as she always did.

  “That doesn’t matter,” she said. “Please, come with me. I may be able to serve you in some small capacity.”

  Traveling down one stone corridor after another, she led D to a desolate chamber in no time.

  “This is one of our vacant rooms. No one would ever think of checking here. I’ll go fetch some medicine now.”

  When Françoise returned as promised about five minutes later, she had a silver tray in one hand, and on it rested a glass full of blood and a thin tablet computer.

  “This is my blood. I drew it about a year ago, but it should be just as fresh as the day it left me.”

  “I don’t need blood. Let’s hear what you have to say.”

  “Okay,” Françoise replied with a nod, and then she began a tale that stretched across the years.