Mysterious Journey to the North Sea, Part 2

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  “Come,” she said, bloody bubbles spilling from her pale lips along with that challenge. D’s needle had gone through the carotid artery. Naturally, it wasn’t a fatal injury for a vampire. Samon drew her dagger. “Come, Hunter . . . I’ll never allow you to kill him. I’ll never let anyone lay a hand on my man . . . I’m still alive. Come . . . Come to me . . .”

  Though her chin and breasts were drenched with fresh blood, Samon still showed incredible tenacity.

  “That sure is something,” D’s left hand remarked with admiration.

  However, as D stalked forward, there wasn’t the faintest hint of emotion in his eyes. Three villagers had been bitten, and he was a Vampire Hunter.

  Just then, the whole world shifted with a rumbling from below. There was a roar as if some subterranean demon had discharged all the world’s evil and hatred at once. And rather than stop, the rumbling kept spreading, baring colossal fangs at the land mass.

  To say the least, it was extremely unfortunate D was standing at a spot about ten feet from where the part of the cliff that jutted out over the sea connected to the rest of the land. Strength surged into his legs so he could make a leap, but the ground beneath him had already crumbled. Along with several hundred tons of stone, D plunged headlong toward the dark crests of the waves.

  .

  Although the earthquake that struck the Nobles’ resort area destroyed half of that vast territory, it had almost no effect at all on the village. Musical performances at the festival continued to ring out, and the people soon erased the anxious looks from their own faces as they tried to convince themselves that nothing could possibly go wrong on a summer night. Tidal waves weren’t even a concern. The water level merely rose a few inches, but the young men standing guard were in no danger, and nothing happened aside from four or five of the watch fires being knocked flat.

  .

  A point of light glowed in the midst of the darkness. The shape it took was not a cone, but rather closer to a globe. It was the illumination cord.

  The scene that emerged was one of pure destruction. Heaps of stone and building materials had formed, yet the fact that the waves beating against the piles of wreckage hadn’t changed their flow or location seemed to indicate that no severe damage had been done to the underlying structure.

  It was the area deep below Meinster’s castle.

  “This place sure as hell got hit hard,” said a hoarse voice. “This was the center of the devastation, but it looks like the shock waves were all set up to emanate outward. Isn’t it strange that someone would know how to do that?”

  Climbing over the rubble, D moved further into the subterranean chamber—to where the bizarre tanks stood in a veritable glass forest. Water still dripped from the hem of his coat. Less than two hours had passed since he’d fallen from the cliff at the cape.

  Though he’d gone back to the cape, there was obviously no sign of the two vampires, nor was there the faintest trace of Su-In. Surely they’d taken her with them. So long as Glen still lived, he was sure to contact the Hunter again. D had no choice but to wait until he did so. Any emotions he might’ve harbored regarding Su-In’s fate couldn’t be discerned from his handsome features beneath the interplay of pale light and shadows.

  As the Hunter ventured in further, the devastation took on a sharper tone. All the tanks had been shattered, and shards of glass continued to drop from their sides. At what seemed to be the center of the tanks, D halted. This was where an incredible energy had gone wild.

  Aside from D, there were only two people who’d have any business down here. But if either of them had been down there, it didn’t seem like they could’ve possibly survived.

  D looked far off to the left. There’d just been a sound of metal grinding on metal. Perhaps it was responding to his light.

  Something heavy rolled down a slope. Probably a chunk of masonry.

  Pulling out a wooden needle, D tied the illumination cord around the middle of it and hurled it right at the source of the sound.

  In the circle of light, something that looked like a black leg could be seen wriggling. It must’ve been about forty feet away.

  “Oh, him, is it?” said a voice down by D’s left hip.

  Slowly extricating itself from a pile of rubble was a familiar aquatic machine—Gilligan’s giant crab.

  D didn’t even draw his blade, and the reason for this quickly became evident.

  In the process of extricating itself, the giant crab seemed to have run out of power. Toppling forward, it clumsily rolled over once, and then fell heavily against the slope. A great scythe of a claw struck the ground by D’s feet, and then stopped. It didn’t move another inch.

  Catching the feeble hum of a motor, D approached the crab’s body.

  “Wow, this is something else! The arms and legs have been ripped right off,” said the voice.

  But the pitiful image of that gigantic crab robbed of all its limbs save one was already burned into D’s retinas. However, its legs hadn’t been carelessly torn free. Each stub sparkled with a nice smooth cut, as if the limbs had been severed by some trenchant blade. The whir of the motor swelled, and the glass dome on the crab’s body circled around to the front. The bubble was much more clouded than it’d been during its battles with D due to the cracks it now bore.

  “Is that you, D?” a feeble voice called out to the Hunter. “I’m finished. I managed to hold out against you . . . but this time, I just didn’t have what it took.”

  “Who did this to you?” D asked when he finally spoke.

  “Professor Krolock . . . He’s given himself the power . . . of a Noble . . .”

  “With the bead?”

  “That’s right . . . He continued the experiment down here . . . just like I wanted to do . . .”

  “How did you get here?” asked D.

  “I was trying to fix the parts you’d damaged . . . while underwater,” Gilligan replied. “As chance would have it, I sank deep to the bottom of the sea . . . And down there, I found the opening that leads back into here . . . That bastard Krolock . . . When I found him, he was floating in one of those glass tanks . . . and on the bottom was the bead . . . half-dissolved . . .”

  “What was the bead?”

  “You mean to tell me you don’t know?” Gilligan laughed. “Here we were, risking our lives . . . and the whole time, the biggest threat to us . . . didn’t even know what it was for . . . Ah, that’s life for you,” Gilligan said, cackling. “A long time ago . . . I saw a laser recording in the Capital’s archives that’d been made by a certain Noble . . . In it, there was information on Nobility who could live underwater . . . Now, Nobility in their natural form couldn’t do so . . . but if they used a human body, they could then live underwater or even in broad daylight. But if they did that . . . then once a year, all the impurities that collected in their body . . . had to be expelled . . . And that’s what the bead was . . . In other words, all you had to do was analyze that . . . and the secrets of human and Noble genetics would be yours. That was as much as I knew . . . But that damned Krolock . . . he even knew about this research facility. Let me tell you something else . . . If the human psyche is resilient . . . the personalities compete with one another . . . Two minds in one body . . .”

  His voice was stretched terribly thin.

  “I wanted to have the power . . . of a genuine Noble. I read all the literature I knew of and tried every conceivable means . . . and thanks to that, I survived even after you cut my head off . . . But now I’m done for . . . When I shattered the tank . . . that skinny bastard pulled out this scrap of cloth . . . The next thing I knew . . . I was having the crab cut off its own legs . . . After he finished me off . . . he blew up the damned lab . . . Hurry . . . He must’ve gone to the village . . . He’s hungry . . . wants blood . . . But watch yourself . . . He’s stronger than you are . . . And another thing . . .”

  The last thing the kingpin said was like a final breath he squeezed from himself.

  “He’
s . . . crazy . . .”

  And after that, Gilligan was silent. It was a pitiful end for him. Twice he’d fought D in that mechanical monster, and both times he’d managed to escape with his life. What did that say about the old artist if he could defeat such a machine?

  “This isn’t good. We’d better get right on this—because if we don’t find Krolock before he gets back to the village, there’ll be hell to pay!”

  Without even waiting for the hoarse voice’s words, D had already turned to leave.

  WHEN WINTER COMES AGAIN

  CHAPTER 8

  .

  I

  .

  Samon chose a dilapidated house for their hideout—it was on the complete opposite edge of the village from the fisherman’s hut they’d used previously. True to her cautious nature, she’d abandoned the other building just in case anyone had already found out about it. Needless to say, the half-dead Glen and the nearly demented Su-In were there, but there was also someone new. Twin.

  The same man who’d thrown a dagger at Egbert’s back at the Black Lagoon knew he was the only one of the whole quintet that was still human, but that realization only served to make him all the more eager to stay in the fight. No matter what it took, he was going to get that bead.

  However, it remained a mystery to Twin who even had the bead now. The only information he had was that Shin and Egbert had gone after D in a bid to take the bead from him, but Egbert alone had returned, and he’d said that Shin had been slain. That being the case, it should’ve been in D’s possession as always, but at the Black Lagoon, the Vampire Hunter had told them he didn’t have the bead—and it was neither a lie nor a bluff on his part. Twin’s instincts told him D wasn’t lying.

  But if D didn’t have it, who did?

  What Twin had elected to do was follow Egbert and see what the giant did. Back at the Black Lagoon, Twin hadn’t run off right away, but rather he’d stayed to watch Egbert’s every move. Although he’d tried to get in contact with his partner who’d hidden in Su-In’s home, he hadn’t received any reply at all, and Twin decided that meant his brother had been killed. By following Egbert to a rendezvous with Samon and Glen, he’d also learned the location of their fishing hut. And he saw with his own two eyes the horrible fate that had befallen all three of them. Stealthily trailing after them, he’d even watched the confrontation at the cape from afar.

  All of this had been possible because of Twin’s abilities. Erasing all trace of his presence, he also remained downwind at all times. The only reason Samon had become aware of him was because, while following them, he’d stepped on some rubble thrown to the ground by the earthquake. Noticing the sound, Samon had done nothing, but continued walking back to her hideout. There she laid in wait for Twin, pouncing on him without a word and marking him with her fiendish kiss.

  “Perfect timing,” Samon said. As she licked up the blood that dripped from her lips, she gave Twin a smile that would’ve frozen whatever remained in his veins. “Since Egbert was slain, I was just thinking how I could use someone else to carry our bags. And your abilities could still prove useful in our battle.”

  And then the sorceress shifted her gaze between Su-In and Glen where they lay on the floor as an expression of indescribable evil took shape on her face.

  “Is the Hunter dead? No, he can’t be. A man like him could come through something like that without as much as a scratch. We’re sure to face him again.” Chuckling, she added, “And I’ll have this woman in a shape we can use when we do.”

  The only reason Su-In had been safe in Samon’s custody up until now was that the seductress had been too worried about Glen to even think about drinking the woman’s blood. But there was nothing to stop her now. Did the “Noble psyche” that Egbert had mentioned mean nothing to her? Her blazing eyes dyed with the bloody hue of hatred, Samon began slowly walking over to Su-In like some pale serpent slithering toward a gorgeous and paralyzed insect.

  “Stop . . .”

  Even when she realized the vapid voice that seemed to creep across the floor was that of Glen, Samon didn’t turn around.

  “You can’t . . . ,” the swordsman groaned. “Don’t touch the woman.”

  “I’ve had about enough of that,” Samon spat. “Don’t you want to triumph over the Hunter? Twice you’ve fought him, and twice you’ve lost. Even after you got the blood of the Nobility. However, the third time shall be different. I’ll see to it you win. But to do so, it is essential that I make this woman into our puppet.”

  “Don’t,” Glen told Samon. “I still haven’t forgotten . . . what I promised him.”

  “You still have the nerve to say that?” she said with a haughty laugh. “Even if you recover completely, do you actually believe you’ll win next time?”

  “I’ll win.”

  Perhaps sensing something in his voice, Samon finally turned to look at the man. In his pale corpse face, his eyes alone gave off blood light.

  At that point, the strangest thing happened. Samon smiled. And it wasn’t the spiteful grin of a demon like she usually wore, but rather a smile that would grace the face of the purest maid. She glided over to Glen as if Su-In, who lay on the floor, had been completely forgotten.

  “And can I put my trust in you?” she asked in a soft tone, her gaze equally gentle.

  “When all this is over—” Glen began to say to the woman, a faraway look in his eye.

  “Yes?”

  “Why don’t we head down south?”

  “That would be nice,” Samon said with a nod.

  But what would they do when they went south? Even if Glen managed to slay D, nowhere in the world would be safe for these two who’d received the kiss of the Nobility. They had joined a family whose day had long since passed.

  Samon gazed at Glen’s chest—the bleeding had stopped. All he had to do was drink some fresh human blood, and he’d quickly make a full recovery. As she looked at Twin standing there by the doorway, her accustomed cruelty returned to her gaze with lightning speed. “Come here,” she commanded him in a low tone. Her voice had the ring of blood to it.

  Twin moved. But so did something else.

  Glen sat straight up, as if he’d been pulled up on a string.

  The door to their dilapidated house had slowly opened.

  When Samon realized just who the figure standing in the rectangular frame was, she squeaked, “Professor Krolock!”

  “Oh, you remember me?” the cloaked figure laughed.

  It certainly was the professor. But what in the world had happened? His wiry gray hair had become jet black, his wrinkles were gone, and the scraggly beard around his mouth had become smooth and luxuriant. Beside his incredibly pale skin, his lips were like a vivid crimson stain, and seeing the pair of pearly fangs that jutted from the corners of his mouth, Samon drew her dagger.

  “You’ve been changed, too?” asked the sorceress.

  “So it would appear, wouldn’t it?” laughed the elderly professor—or rather, the professor who’d been returned to his manly prime. Every inch of him seemed to radiate an intense vitality, and even Samon couldn’t look him squarely in the eye. “However,” he continued, “I’m not one of your ilk. I have no master. I became this way through my own efforts.”

  Entering the room, the professor surveyed his surroundings with glittering eyes. A mere look from him was enough to give Samon goose bumps.

  He’s not like us, she thought. Has he become something else entirely?!

  “What do you want?” Glen asked as he got to his feet. “If it’s the bead you’re after, it’s not here.”

  “The bead is within me,” the professor said. Something white dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Saliva. “I have no more need of it,” he continued. “My wish has been granted. However—I’m famished!”

  His tone was such that even Su-In leapt up off the floor.

  “Do you know why I’ve come here?” asked the professor. “Initially, I intended to descend on the village. But as I was lea
ving the castle, I caught the scent of blood. A warm, sweet aroma that would be simply perfect to slake my thirst. I am not like you. One alone will not suffice. I’ll need the blood of all of you. You shall fill my belly well!”

  “How interesting,” Samon said, baring her fangs. “We were just getting ready to do the same thing. You’re like a moth to the flame. Know now that this shall be your last night!”

  Wearing a demonic scowl, Samon was about to advance when a tall figure stepped in front of her.

  “Take the woman and go,” he said.

  “Glen?!”

  “Hurry up and go,” the swordsman told her. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “But . . . ,” Samon stammered, inky black anxiety gushing into her eyes.

  Glen’s voice was crystal clear—heart-wrenchingly clear. The eyes of the seeker of knowledge gave off a crimson glow, and he drew his sword.

  The professor had his right hand in the breast of his clothes.

  Light raced out in every color of the spectrum. A heartbeat later, the sound of harshly severed bone could be heard. A black line zipped through the professor’s right wrist, and then everything from there to his fingertips started to slide off. Although Glen was injured, his draw and strike had been flawless.

  The severed limb stopped before it hit the floor. The professor had caught it with his left hand. Pressing it back to the spot where it had originally been attached, he then took his left hand away and used it to wipe off the black line. No wound remained from the blade.

  Samon groaned in a low voice. That was the sort of thing that would usually happen if a human were to turn a blade against a Noble. But Glen was one of the Nobility!

  “Go,” Glen commanded her sharply.

  As she dashed over to where Su-In was, Samon heard another voice that was practically a whisper.