Noble Front

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  “This—this is genuine darkness!” the hoarse voice exclaimed.

  “Don’t tell me it’s Time-bewitching Incense,” D replied.

  “Nope, it’s the same result but through different means. This is based on physics.”

  “What the hell?! You mean to tell me the Nobility have other ways to make time go crazy?” Ringard asked.

  “He wasn’t their top engineer for nothing,” D said, and his words shook. And the castle shook with them.

  “That just now—was that a footstep?” asked Ringard, looking all around before fixing his eyes to the west. A grave rumbling in the earth was approaching from that direction. And with it came the tremendous weight that made those rumbles possible.

  “It’s night.”

  Ringard looked overhead. He could see only part of a row of stone columns so large a trio of men could link arms around one. The darkness above swallowed even the ceiling, and in the high reaches stars twinkled.

  The rumbling of the ground ceased.

  If we were gonna run, we missed our window, Ringard thought with regret.

  It was too late now. The enemy was right in front of them.

  “I saw your statue yesterday,” D said softly. “Only I couldn’t see the face. As the grand duke said, either no one could carve it, or it’d melded with the darkness.”

  Something moved in the darkness. A huge arm came down from above the pair. The fingers were bent, and between the segments, glimpses of an iron core and wires were visible.

  “You did well to make it here, D—and you, too, traitor,” said a voice that rained down from the ceiling. That of the Professor.

  “You’re one to talk!” Ringard retorted. “You went and got yourself turned into one of the Nobility’s flunkies. And it’s your fault the same thing happened to the rest of the team, you bastard!”

  “They all thanked me. They were grateful to be raised from a fragile human existence to a greater, immortal form of life.”

  “And this tech—was it the grand duke’s?” the hoarse voice inquired.

  “Oh, it would seem the man known as D has an unusual traveling companion. Yes, the machine that creates a false day or night was the grand duke’s prized invention. And now, I’ve inherited that and everything else from him. And with these devices, the world will be mine in three days’ time.”

  “The miserable little human world, you mean,” Ringard said snidely.

  “That’s right. But don’t forget that now, I’m on par with the Nobility. And like the grand duke, I have no intention of being satisfied merely with this village and the surrounding area. First, I shall negotiate with the Capital for half of the human-occupied lands, though eventually all of them will fall under my control. For the human race, it will simply be like a return to the not-so-distant past. And then there are the Nobles’ lands. Those, too, I will eventually make my own. It may take a century, it may take a millennium, but now I have an ally known as ‘eternity.’ And I possess something that the former rulers now sliding toward extinction lack—a desire for conquest. Those Noble fools once tried their hand at exploring the universe only to abandon it midway for whatever reason, but I shall make good on it. When my hands have reached to the ends of the ever-expanding universe I will be the first true ruler in human or Noble history.”

  “Yeah, nice story,” the hoarse voice sneered. “Back in the day, there were a few screwy Nobles that had delusions like that and teamed up with the OSB. And all of ’em were destroyed before they could do anything to the human world. In short, nobody gets to rock the boat.”

  “You speak of a time when the Nobility was still the Nobility! Now at their nadir, their race won’t have the strength to thwart my ambitions. See how my power turned day to night and brought a stone colossus across a hundred million light years in a mere instant to stand before you. Based on that technology, I shall tap the blood of the grand duke that runs through my veins to master even newer technologies. And with them—oh, this you’ll want to hear. I shall accomplish things surpassing even the Sacred Ancestor.”

  “Oh, my,” the hoarse voice groaned. Not with admiration. Out of ridicule. “Is that how far gone you are? I see. So, just what did you plan on doing?”

  “Allow me to tell you the message the Sacred Ancestor left with the grand duke. I’ve decoded it, you see! But in exchange, D, aid me.”

  The Professor’s words were swallowed by the darkness. In their place came a cold voice, saying, “How would I aid you?”

  “I’m certain you could be of some use. You, the only man with human blood in him the Sacred Ancestor deigned to mention! To me, that alone makes it clear you hold the key to the possibilities of the future.”

  “What did the bastard say?”

  The voice from the heavens could be heard gasping. “Did you call the Sacred Ancestor a bastard? Who are you?”

  Who knows how many people have put that question to D. At the very least, the number that have received an answer was well established. Zero.

  “What did the bastard say?” asked a voice with a mysterious gleam to it.

  The Professor fell silent.

  After a short time, the Hunter repeated, “What did he say?”

  Ringard realized that a battle was taking place between demonic forces beyond his comprehension. The young Hunter was driving the faux Noble into a corner. What the hell is this guy, the warrior thought, for the first time feeling not merely threatened by the young man in black but actual fear. And it seemed he wasn’t alone.

  “Thou . . . shalt visit this place,” the voice said. “. . . visit this place . . . Oh, I can’t . . . I can’t say it. My head burns . . . I can say no more . . .”

  “Continue,” the Hunter told him, the word like an icicle being driven through the other man’s cries of pain.

  “. . . visit this place . . . Ah . . . and . . . destroy . . . Bergenzy . . .”

  “No, that’s not right,” D said, and there was the whine of his sword leaving the sheath on his back. Up until this point, the young man hadn’t drawn his blade.

  “What’s not right? D, the Sacred Ancestor . . . he read Bergenzy’s future. But that won’t be mine. The statue of the Sacred Ancestor will slay you. Go!”

  The colossal arm that’d stopped in midair came down. Drawing a needle of stark wood with his left hand, D hurled it at the darkness-shrouded chest of the gigantic statue. The arm stopped once more.

  “Back.”

  Kicking off the floor, D sailed back a good thirty feet. Several tons of stone rubble came crashing down on his former position, shaking both the building and the darkness.

  II

  Treading across billowy golden clouds, Françoise wandered. This was a dream. So long as someone somewhere in the world dreamed, Françoise’s continued existence was guaranteed. Capitalizing on that principle and her unique condition, she had crept into D’s dream to save Cornet’s life. While they dreamed, the people she visited could converse with her or do battle with her. However, on awakening, it would all be just a dream. None of them would think that it might overlap with reality. The only exception to that was when Françoise made it that way. In a manner of speaking, they were prophetic dreams, dreams that would come true. In dreams, Françoise was immortal. She would never grow old and die. When humans died in the dream world, they would “return to life,” in a manner of speaking, when they awoke to reality. However, if someone who lived in dreams were to die there—

  Françoise.

  Turning when her name was called, she saw Vyken treading across the golden clouds. The eerie glow that spilled from his eyes informed her that he was now something else inside.

  “The grand duke do that?”

  “The Professor, actually,” the young man replied.

  “What do you intend to do to me?”

  “Make you one of us.”

  “Like hell you will!”

  Vyken charged toward her. Jagged teeth jutted from his vermilion lips.

  Was it fear fro
m the look of him that kept Françoise from even trying to flee?

  Regardless, when the two silhouettes overlapped, it was Vyken that howled like a beast and reeled backward. He clutched his forehead. Purplish smoke curled from between his fingers. Madness in his eyes, he glared at what the beauty held in her right hand. It had the same shape as the intersecting lines that’d been burned into his skin. A gold cross.

  “Wha-what the hell is that, Françoise?”

  “What the Nobility hate more than anything. Many of the world’s people are asleep now. And one of them has a memory of this—not a memory so much as an image engraved much deeper in their subconscious. When a Noble attacked them, they suddenly threw their arms out and crossed them to defend themselves. By making a cross. The person didn’t know it, and it was wiped from their memory on top of that, but some deep part of their psyche didn’t forget, you see.”

  “Damn you, Françoise . . . You’ll pay for that!” Vyken growled, turning his still-smoking face toward his friend since childhood. It was the face of a demon. When Françoise thrust the cross at him, he backed away with a scream.

  “Since you’ve got that, I get a weapon, too,” he groaned. “See, Françoise? Children of the night!”

  The beating of countless wings descended toward Françoise from above.

  “Bats?!”

  “Yes, indeed, but not just any bats. Vampire bats. Don’t worry, though. They don’t have the power to make anyone one of the Nobility.”

  The black-and-gray swarm covered Françoise from head to toe. Blood gushed from her face, her hands, and her feet. There was the pain of short fangs jabbing into her. The cross fell at her feet.

  Suddenly, the vampire “children” flew upward.

  Staggering, Françoise was a heart-wrenching sight. The small wounds they’d left all over her body must’ve numbered more than a thousand. Blood dripped from them across her skin, stains spreading through her clothing until the dress she wore was pure vermilion.

  Grabbing her over the shoulder and pulling her close, Vyken bared his fangs with malice and delight. Without any further interference before he drove them into Françoise’s carotid artery.

  “Huh—?!” Vyken murmured, pulling his lips away. He’d drunk deeply of her blood. Now, Françoise would be one of them. And yet, he lacked confidence. An indescribable feeling of incongruity put a perplexed expression on his face.

  Pressing down on the wound, Françoise backed away. She knew the reason for that feeling of incongruity. It was almost as if this situation wasn’t real.

  “What’s this?” Vyken groaned.

  Their surroundings had suddenly begun to change. Old-fashioned generators, an antiproton reactor, an automated surgical system—all these hand-crafted devices lined the walls of the room haphazardly, giving it the feel of a fairly decent research center. On the far side of the room a figure in a purple hood was gazing at them. This was the research center in the real world.

  To the other two, the real world was a dream. That was the feeling of incongruity both assailant and victim had felt the instant he drank her blood. The bite had taken place where reality wasn’t the opposite of a dream but rather the equivalent of one, and since this was but a dream for them, it had no impact whatsoever on them in reality. The vampire’s bite had been rendered null and void.

  “How could this happen? Why are we here?” Vyken murmured in amazement, glaring at the hooded figure seated in front of a desk on the other side of the room. “Oh, you pulled something, didn’t you, you bastard?”

  The hooded figure—Cornet—gave a hearty slap to the cylindrical device sitting on the desk. “Yes, I’ve been working on this baby ever since I was attacked. Ever since I promised her, Françoise, in a dream. It’s a device for swapping dreams and reality. And now I’ll really show you what it can do.”

  Growling curses, Vyken charged at Cornet.

  For him and the girl, this was a dream. His body passed through the desk and a generator without any resistance at all.

  Eyeing the bizarre contraption, Cornet grabbed a crossbow off the top of a table and braced it against his shoulder. It was already loaded with a bolt.

  Vyken halted, smacking the left side of his chest and sneering, “You idiot. You might’ve dragged me here, but I’m still just a dream to you! How’s reality supposed to destroy a dream?”

  “I believe I just told you I was going to show you what it could really do,” Cornet said, his words invested with a quiet confidence. Beside him, a green light glowed.

  Vyken pounced.

  The figure in midair was linked to one on the ground by a whistling sound.

  Cornet saw Vyken’s smile. The bolt had been stopped, clutched in his fist.

  “Die!” Vyken cried, swinging the bolt down toward Cornet’s chest. The monstrous strength of a Noble drove it through liquid metal, destroying the one solid metal part.

  “Françoise?!” Cornet cried out as he retreated. The crossbow fell at his feet.

  Standing between the two men with arms extended, the android had pale blue sparks of electromagnetism spraying from her wound as she collapsed.

  “That was my nerve core,” she said. “Farewell, Cornet.”

  “You son of a bitch!” Cornet growled with rage.

  When Vyken shifted his gaze from Françoise to him, Cornet didn’t have a weapon in his hands. The formerly human guard jeered, “Saved by a machine, and a woman at that?”

  Once more, Vyken sailed into the air. With the eyes of a triumphant devil he saw the human he’d cornered like a rat haul back with his right hand. When he realized it was a smallish sword that had arced around elegantly for a solid hit well wide of his heart, Vyken was just as full of confidence as ever.

  The arc of his leap became a vertical drop, and Vyken fell to the floor. His heart had nearly stopped beating. Even though the blade had missed it. However, that was the dagger D had given Cornet. A blade imbued with the power of both D and his left hand.

  Gazing down absent-mindedly at the simple handle protruding from the left side of his chest, Vyken groaned, “How? Out here . . . I’m just a dream . . . aren’t I?”

  Touching the device, Cornet said, “The real function of this gadget wasn’t to pull the two of you out here. It was to change dreams into reality. Now, you and Françoise are part of reality. That’s why my dagger could destroy you.”

  “A hell . . . of a thing . . .”

  Vyken spat up a clot of blood. The light was rapidly fading from eyes that’d glowed red as blood. When dreams and reality became one, he was fated to be destroyed.

  “Jozen!” the girl in the dress cried out, but Cornet raced over to where the other woman had fallen. The electromagnetic waves had already ceased, and the android girl had stopped moving. The strength fled Cornet, and tears spilled from his eyes.

  A pale hand reached from beside him to gently stroke the android’s cheek.

  “The other me. She saved your life, didn’t she? Thank you,” the real Françoise said, the last remark directed at her doppelganger.

  Cornet nodded for no particular reason.

  “What are you doing here? I searched everywhere for you! What have you been doing?” Françoise asked, and these questions were perfectly natural from a big sister.

  “I found out about the grand duke’s master plan,” her brother replied. “He was going to use the human race to become ruler of the universe. That’s why he was kind to humans—or at least why he didn’t prey on them. And then he ordered me to research and develop a machine that could turn humans into Nobles without ever being bitten. The scary thing is, it’d already been perfected ages and ages ago by certain Noble and human scientists. Naturally, I refused to cooperate. At that point, the grand duke carved my face up with a knife, and he said he’d pull my tongue out next. For all the advances their civilization made, they still use tortures worse than the beasts of antiquity.

  “Covered in blood and groaning, I was in utter despair. And then I offered him a con
dition that would protect me and the village. If he harmed me, I would disclose to the world something the Nobility feared besides sunlight. Actually, I was bluffing, but the grand duke believed me. And he made me swear to keep it an eternal secret in exchange for not going after you. I accepted.

  “Given the situation, I couldn’t leave the village. I knew perfectly well the grand duke would come after me. Fortunately, when I was a kid, I discovered there was this whole world down here. And piece by piece I brought in the devices I’d taken from the castle and started living here. And all the while, I swore I’d get the grand duke someday for what he’d done to my face.”

  “You poor thing,” Françoise said, gently cradling the head of Cornet—or Jozen—to her chest. They were brother and sister again. After some time, she asked, “So, will I be able to stay like this forever?”

  Shaking his head from side to side, he replied, “The materials I had to work with weren’t very strong. You’ll last a little over ten minutes more.”

  “But I’ll be okay until then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s fine, then,” said Françoise. “Okay, let’s talk about what comes next.”

  “What comes next for you, sis?”

  “Since Vyken’s dead and he’s the one who turned me into a dream, I’ll fade away at some point. But let’s talk about after that. Let me tell you about all the machines and instruments I saw in the Noble’s castle. You can copy them and make yourself a fortune or use them for the good of the village, whichever you like.”

  “Yeah. You’re right,” Cornet replied, though by that point he was back to being Jozen. “I’ll do that, Françoise. That’s just what I’ll do, sis.”

  III

  “From time to time, you see things that are simply too much to believe,” the Professor remarked, his voice trembling with unadulterated shock. “Who would have thought anyone of Noble blood, Hunter or not, could smash a statue of the Sacred Ancestor so easily? D, who or what are you?”

  “Come,” the Hunter in black invited him. “If you’re going to hide in a coffin, there’s no point swapping night and day.”