Copyright
STRIKE THE BLOOD, Volume 7
GAKUTO MIKUMO
Translation by Jeremiah Bourque
Cover art by Manyako
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
SUTORAIKU ZA BURADDO
©GAKUTO MIKUMO 2013
All rights reserved.
Edited by ASCII MEDIA WORKS
First published in Japan in 2013 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.
English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Yen On
1290 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10104
Visit us at yenpress.com
facebook.com/yenpress
twitter.com/yenpress
yenpress.tumblr.com
instagram.com/yenpress
First Yen On Edition: September 2017
Yen On is an imprint of Yen Press, LLC.
The Yen On name and logo are trademarks of Yen Press, LLC.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Mikumo, Gakuto, author. | Manyako, illustrator. | Bourque, Jeremiah, translator.
Title: Strike the blood / Gakuto Mikumo, Manyako ; translation by Jeremiah Bourque.
Other titles: Sutoraiku za buraddo. English
Description: New York, NY : Yen On, 2016–
Identifiers: LCCN 2015041522 | ISBN 9780316345477 (v. 1 : paperback) |
ISBN 9780316345491 (v. 2 : paperback) | ISBN 9780316345514 (v. 3 : paperback) |
ISBN 9780316345538 (v. 4 : paperback) | ISBN 9780316345569 (v. 5 : paperback) |
ISBN 9780316345583 (v. 6 : paperback) | ISBN 9780316562652 (v. 7 : paperback)
Subjects: | CYAC: Vampires—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Science Fiction / Adventure.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.M555 Su 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015041522
ISBNs: 978-0-316-56265-2 (paperback)
978-0-316-44207-7 (ebook)
E3-20170812-JV-PC
Contents
Cover
Insert
Title Page
Copyright
Intro
Chapter One: Fairy’s Coffin
Chapter Two: Shadow of Another Kaleid Blood
Chapter Three: The Jester Reminisces
Outro
Afterword
Yen Newsletter
INTRO
In the distant past, a man was born.
He was brought to life by the first people to descend upon the land, cast out of the paradise of the gods—
In other words, he was the first man fashioned by the people’s hand.
In their anger, the gods banished the man to a place beyond the firmament, branded him a murderer, and cursed him with immortality.
And thus, he became a criminal. Only the last of his brethren, and their descendants, remained upon the land.
Teeming with life, the earth forsook the man and continued to reject his arrival.
In return, he hated the land. Alone in eternal darkness, his tears and blood flowed through the firmament, enveloping the world, and gave birth to many kinds of demons.
Instead of bounty, he brought civilization and war to the land denied to him. Through him, men found learning and sorcery; through him, men fashioned each and every blade of bronze and iron.
Finally, those remaining upon the land constructed a new city that violated all laws of the earth: an artificial city, born of carbon fiber, resin, and steel.
His name was Cain, Source of All Sins, Father of all demons.
Even now, he slumbers in the land beyond the firmament, dreaming of his return, so that he may take vengeance upon the world.
The cavern was shrouded in flickering light. Periodically, the rainbow-like flame changed its colors and shape. The air was white and frozen, as if time itself stood still.
Here, in the hollow world governed only by tranquility and isolation, a boy was lying down, alone. He was twelve years old, still young, only half-grown. However, he was already aware he was dying.
One of his lungs, his heart, and countless bones and internal organs had been blown away, fresh blood scattered everywhere.
Just before his death, he saw an explosive flash and a giant, ferocious beast man, mad with rage, a horde of living dead, and…
A girl inside a coffin, continuing to sleep even as glistening fragments of ice danced around her like feathers in the air. Her pale flesh, as white as a glacier, was stained red from the boy’s blood—
“Why do you not fear me, boy?”
The solemn voice reverberated in a world cut off from the flow of time.
A giant shadow enveloped by white frost floated in empty space. Perhaps it was a monstrous bird spreading wings of ice, or maybe it was a mermaid. Its form wavered like a mirage as it gazed coldly down at the blood-soaked boy.
With a faint tremble of his lips, the boy answered, “Who…knows…?”
However, his voice had not made a sound. The child had already lost his physical body. As a result, his soul had been maimed anew, about to be sucked into that empty world.
Despite this, the boy’s eyes revealed no fear. He smiled weakly up at the giant, monstrous bird, as if defying the fading of his life.
“It’s probably ’cause…I still have stuff left to do…”
The monstrous bird watched the boy with its majestic, transcendent eyes.
In that frigid world, her will was law. If terror seized him for even an instant—if he accepted his own death—no doubt she would have immediately ripped his soul asunder with her overwhelming power, as she had done to the countless human sacrifices taken into that world before.
However, the boy did not avert his gaze. He forced his messy body to sit up, silently conveying his fortitude.
With a voice completely devoid of emotion, the monstrous bird calmly imparted the truth.
“You have already expired. There is no longer anything you can do. This is the Blood Memory of the Fourth Primogenitor…a graveyard for the infinite accumulation of time in an eternal life. We, immersed in her blood, feed upon the primogenitor’s memories to live. You are now but a single part of that whole.”
Her form changed to a beautiful girl—one with blazing eyes and rainbow-colored hair billowing like flames. She continued:
“Dying child of man, why do you not fear me? Why do you call my name?”
The boy interrupted her questions with a shout, as if to blow her off. “Shut up…!”
Even as his blood-soaked arms sank into the void, he tore them away through force of will and rose.
“It’s not over yet! I could protect her! For that, I’ll use whatever power I have to, even one that can destroy the whole world…!”
The girl smiled in admiration. It carried a sens
e of innocence that suited her fairy-like features.
“You, not a primogenitor but an ordinary person, feasting upon my eternal Blood Memory—?”
From the empty space, everything he had lost—his blood, his flesh, his bones, his organs—was restored. Instead of being consumed, he was absorbing the Blood Memory instead. He, a powerless human being, using the infinite “negative life force” belonging only to primogenitors—
The girl narrowed her glimmering eyes. “The cost…shall be dear, pitiable child of Man—”
From within her clenched hand, a tiny fragment of ice appeared. In the blink of an eye, it grew into a long, single spear—a spear of ice with a forked tip.
The boy earnestly stretched out his blood-drenched arm and called the girl’s name.
“I’ll do it anyway. So please, lend me your strength…Avrora!”
That instant, the girl’s eyes softened, holding back happy tears. A pleasant smile came over her as she whispered, “Very well. Take it.”
Then, as the boy stood defenseless, his hand outstretched, she thrust the icy spear deep into his chest.
CHAPTER ONE
FAIRY’S COFFIN
1
The island of Gozo floated in more or less the center of the Mediterranean Sea.
As a part of the European Commonwealth of Malta, it was primarily a tourist attraction. Its bountiful, diverse coastline made for a beautiful sight, and the contrast between its gray cliffs and the blue sea charmed many visitors.
However, Gozo was also known as an island of ruins.
Every corner of the isle’s interior was littered with subterranean tombs, ring cairns, and giant stone buildings, said to be mankind’s oldest, predating the Neolithic Age. Even in modern times, many of their mysteries remained unsolved, including whether human hands or powerful deities had created them.
And so—
A lone man stood at the dig site of one such ruin of import, a nameless subterranean tomb, and yelled with abandon:
“Whoooooaaa—! This is delicious!”
He was a fairly good-looking, tall Japanese man. He had sunburnt skin and an impetuous face. His hair was a mess, as if he’d cut it himself with a knife, and his unkempt beard stood out. His red-dyed leather trench coat and fedora made him look less like a surveyor of ruins and more like a member of an old-time mafia. More than anything, he resembled a washed-up private investigator.
He was middle-aged, around forty years old, perhaps—
The man gripped a bottle of Bajtra, an alcoholic drink produced in Malta made from cactus fruits. He sat deeply in his camping chair, legs spread out, drinking it with his midday meal.
He brought some smoked sausage to his lips as he said, “Isn’t this nice? Blue skies, white clouds, tasty food and wine… Really makes a man feel alive.”
The coarse sausage, also native to Malta, gave off a particular fragrance. He tore into his food before taking another sip from the bottle. Almost as an afterthought, he made a deep, chagrined sigh.
“Now if I just had even one hot babe with me it’d really be perfect, but…”
A white woman appearing to be in her twenties replied coldly to the man’s complaint. “—What are you trying to say, Doc?”
Even though she was dressed as if she were on a safari, the woman gave off an air of competence, punctuality, and class. Her symmetrical face had barely any makeup, and her beautiful hair was cropped short. She had the appearance of a first-rate researcher.
He noticed her annoyance as she approached and, making the expression of a mongrel being scolded by his owner, chuckled carelessly as he showed her the wide-open swimsuit model magazine he had been reading.
“Ah… Well you see, Miss Caruana, the weather’s so fine. Shouldn’t you learn from the other girls here and wear clothing a little less…restrictive? I think it’d raise the morale of the digging team.”
Liana Caruana, senior adviser to the Fourth Gozo Ruins Joint Examination Team, brusquely snatched the magazine from the man’s hands.
“I regret to inform you such services are not part of my professional duties.”
The man she had called “Doc” slumped his shoulders and shook his head in exasperation, somehow looking sympathetic as he shifted his gaze toward Liana’s bust.
“Well, aren’t you a stick-in-the-mud? We’ve come all the way to the Mediterranean, so why not act the part? When in Rome, do as the Romans do. I mean, no need to worry about it. Back in my homeland, we have a saying: Small tits are precious things. Just ’cause your breasts are tiny doesn’t mean they aren’t in high dema—”
Liana shielded her breasts with both hands, glaring icily at the man with an icy look on her face.
“—Pursuing a sexual harassment lawsuit is troublesome in a variety of ways, so I would rather you not add that to my workload. And for that matter, why don’t you work a little more seriously with that diligence Japanese are famous for? Plus, you appear to have the preconceived notion that the people living in Latin countries are a hedonistic, laid-back lot. Do not forget that this island has been a crucial component of Mediterranean culture and commerce since ancient times.”
The man called Doc drank the last drop in his bottle and strained a smile.
“I haven’t forgotten. History tells us that it was the world’s oldest Demon Sanctuary, part of the Atlantic Imperial Federation, and the front line of a brutal war from when the Dominion of the Second Primogenitor, Fallgazer, invaded. But, well, it’s got nothing to do with my job. It’s not like we can do anything until we’ve lined up all the staff we need.”
“That is…certainly true, but…”
The man spoke in an easygoing tone as he reached for another sausage.
“So let’s take it easy. It ain’t like anything good’ll come from getting worked up and groping around without a clue—”
The next moment, they heard an explosion behind them so powerful they could feel it in their chests.
A giant pillar of flame soared into the air as the ground shook. The dust cloud blocked the sky, shrouding it in gray.
The explosion’s center was located in the rear of the rocky area where the pair was sitting, putting it near the ruins’ entrance. The use of explosives at a dig site wasn’t rare, but the blast was far too large. A section of the ruins was blown into the air, with rubble hammering down to the earth like hail. They could hear the cries of confused workers trying to get away and sounds akin to gunfire. Clearly, the scene was not consistent with a controlled detonation. Some kind of unexpected trouble was afoot.
“Ah…yeah. Kinda like that…,” the man said languidly as he watched the smoke encircle the ruin.
“Th-this is no time to relax! What in the world is—?!”
“Ah… Hey, Miss Caruana…”
Faster than the man could tell her not to, Liana dashed to the rocky area and climbed down. Even as the winds kicked up from the blast hit her face, she recklessly ran toward the heart of the explosion.
The man clicked his tongue slightly and, left with no other choice, clutched his beloved rifle case as he followed her.
The dust cloud lingered over the area as they heard the repeated bellow of gunfire.
Because excavation work at the ruin had been suspended, few workers were around, and they were already limited to several members of the academic research group sent by the North Sea Empire and combat personnel from the Private Military Corporation taking care of guarding the ruin. The combatants were fighting an ominous, wriggling shadow inside the cloud. It did not seem to be a proper living creature, nor did it seem to be a man-made construct. Furthermore, it was frighteningly huge. Perhaps this was what a state-of-the-art main battle tank would look like if it could walk upright like a person…
A bearded, well-built guard ran out of the dust cloud toward them.
“Gaho! Give us a hand, Gaho! Doc!!”
He was the private military contractor, Dimos Carrozzo, head of the guards protecting the ruin investigation team. He w
as an imposing man over a hundred and ninety centimeters tall. The sight of a large man carrying an automatic weapon and an ammunition belt created an impression of a huge boar outfitted with modern armaments. But now his body was wounded all over, with his face warped with panic.
The Japanese man called Doc spoke to Carrozzo in a lighthearted tone that seemed very out of place. “Heya, Carrozzo. What’s the fuss? I told you not to go into the third strata, didn’t I?”
Carrozzo, realizing the man was right there, dropped to his knees as if all strength had deserted him.
“Sorry, Gaho… The investigation team from Daktram University broke the agreement and went in on their own…!”
“Sheesh. Well, I figured it was something like that…,” he muttered dismissively. “Also, correction. My name isn’t Gaho.”
With the cloud of smoke finally beginning to thin, the enemy’s true face emerged. It was a monstrously shaped idol over four meters in height, clad in a metal shell like a suit of armor—a humanoid weapon. Its giant, featureless head resembled a sperm whale, solemn and overwhelming. Perhaps it had been modeled after a Cetus, a monster in the Mediterranean Sea depicted in Greek mythology.
“Doc, what is that…?!” Liana’s expression tightened.
The man nodded in apparent joy. “Ah, that’s a type of gargoyle. I heard the Third Investigation Team wiped them all out, but to think there was still somethin’ this big left behind. Gets the juices flowing, huh?”
Liana clutched her head, distraught as she watched the man admire it like it wasn’t his problem. “How can you be so casual about…?!”
The idol had emerged from under the ruin. Apparently, it was a type of automated defense system for dispatching those trespassing in a tomb, and it had awakened when the investigation team members recklessly entered the ruin. The idol had then busted its way through thick limestone walls, forcing its way to the surface.
The guards desperately fought it, but mere automatic weapons were no use against the idol’s armor. Not only was it likely built from strong metal, no doubt sorcery had further strengthened it.
Conversely, the pale, bluish-white beams from the idol sliced through the guards’ armored vehicles, setting them aflame one after another.
Strike the Blood, Vol. 7: Kaleid Blood Page 1