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Authors: Hideyuki Kikuchi

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BOOK: Record of the Blood Battle
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THE MANSE OF THE CULTURED LADY

chapter 4

I


I
t was daybreak by the time they reached the town of Nieto.

Apparently quite elated to be back in a human town after five millennia, the baron’s eyes gleamed as he said, “Hmm, things don’t seem to have changed much while I slumbered. Well, the human race reached completion at a fairly low level. Perhaps they don’t really want to change. Oh, that woman over there is simply stunning, isn’t she? My, just look at the size of her breasts! That hourglass shape! Mmmmm, and a derrière that sticks out like nobody’s business! That’s what I call progress. I retract my earlier statement.”

This Nobleman didn’t seem like he had anything to do with either the Sacred Ancestor or “progress.”

D first headed for the stables. His cyborg horse would need maintenance.

“Stick with me,” he ordered the baron.

“As if a Noble would enter some shack that reeks of horses! I’ll wait here,” Macula replied, steering clear of the entrance to the maintenance area.

And yet, when D came back, the hoarse voice said in disbelief, “He’s not here!”


Soon after the baron had exited the stables, the mocking laughter of children flowed in from the right. In the narrow alley, he was surrounded by at least half a dozen boys.

“This guy’s delusional!”

“Noble, my ass! Who ever heard of a Noble out in broad daylight? And look at that funny armor he’s got on. Hey, let’s throw rocks at it!”

“What are you talking about? This is the armor of a Noble. Can’t you see the grace and dignity in my features?”

The baron stood with his chest puffed out, but the boys only looked down at him with scorn. They all stood at least a head taller than him.

“You bald-headed liar! You’ve got a face like an octopus’s ass. Like hell you’re a Noble. Hey, unless you want the crap beaten out of you, you’d better give us some money.”

“What do you mean, you wretched human children? You should be thankful for the opportunity to meet a genuine member of the Greater Nobility. Try any foolishness, and you shall be severely reprimanded.”

“Just try it, you bald midget!”

The largest boy stepped in front of the baron.

“Ohhhh,” the baron said as he inched backward. “Stupid brats—are you familiar with the expression
twenty-three skidoo
?”

“No. What’s it mean?”

“This!”

For a moment, they were left stunned by the way the baron had suddenly turned around and sprinted away.

“After him!” the largest boy ordered, the whole group tearing off after the Nobleman and surrounding him again in short order. His legs weren’t nearly as long as theirs. That was followed shortly by a cry of “Let ’im have it!” The diminutive figure was immediately swallowed up by the mob of attacking boys.

“Stop that this instant,” a soft voice called out to them several seconds later.

The boys’ violence was stemmed both by the quiet dignity of the female voice and the knowledge of whom it belonged to.

“Lady Millian?”

Dressed in an elegant silk suit, the woman possessed a youthful beauty that hardly seemed to suit the title of “lady.”

The boys’ eyes turned to the man who stood behind her like a wall dressed in black. Judging from the buggy whip he held, he was likely both her coachman and her bodyguard.

“Save me,” the baron said, and as he took refuge behind the driver’s back, blood dripped from his head.

“You’re wicked children, aren’t you?” Lady Millian said, glaring at them. “Shall I tell the sheriff to make you spend the night alone out in the forest of the Nobility? The next time I see you doing this, you’ll not get off lightly!”

“Sheesh, what a hysterical bitch!”

“Dyke!” the boys said, pelting her with insults as they ran away.

“What little brats. They don’t feel the slightest bit of respect toward their elders. I should’ve expected as much from humans, I suppose,” the baron muttered to himself as the woman looked down coolly at him. She was reasonably tall.

“From the way you refer to them as
humans
, could it be that you’re—”

“Oh, yes, I’m a Noble,” he replied, puffing his chest, but he immediately deflated again. “No one believes me, though.”

“Understandable,” Lady Millian said, staring intently at the baron and biting back a laugh. “You cast a shadow on the ground, and above all there’s the matter of you standing in the sunlight. Have you some proof you’re a Noble? Could you transform yourself into a bat and flit around?”

“Those tricks are strictly for engineered Nobles. I, on the other hand—”

The baron’s voice halted there because of the blood flowing from his forehead. Running along the side of his nose, it’d reached his lips.

“As you can see, I’m the genuine article.”

The baron opened his mouth. A pair of fangs caught the woman’s eye. He now seemed like an entirely different person, and she froze in her tracks.

The great wall of a man lurched forward, but she said, “Totem,” stopping him. “A genuine Noble,” she murmured in astonishment.

“That’s right.”

“In that case . . . I have a request for you.”

The emotion choking her voice made the baron grin. Did his Noble senses tell him something?

“However, discussing it here would be somewhat improper . . . Would you be so good as to come to my home?”

“Are you sure that’s okay? I am a Noble, you know.”

“That’s precisely why I offer you this invitation.”

“Very well, then. But in return, you mustn’t hold whatever happens against me.” As he focused a look of unrestrained longing at the nape of the young beauty’s neck, the baron licked his lips. Though he had the three strikes of being short, fat, and bald against him, that craving alone was proof positive that he was indeed a member of the Nobility.


Deciding there was no point searching for the baron in the immediate vicinity, D walked straight down to the sheriff’s office. He told the stunned man behind the desk, “I’d like you to tell me who’s the most eccentric person in town.”

After some consideration, the sheriff replied, “That would be Lady Millian. She’s a widow who lives out in the forest on the western edge of town. Been a bit odd ever since her husband passed away two years back. It seems she’s been collecting data on the Nobility from all over the country.”

“Does she intend to turn her husband into a Noble or something?”

The sudden change in D’s voice brought the sheriff back to his senses. Glaring at the Hunter, he said, “Say something like that to anybody in town and they’ll string you up on the spot. I won’t even get there to stop ’em until they’re done lynching you. We won’t stand to have you doing anything to hurt or embarrass that lady.”

“Oh, really? She’s that beloved, is she?” asked the hoarse voice.

“Not just her. Her husband was also an outstanding person. He laid the foundation for development in this town, and led us through the hardest times. And as soon as the town had settled down, he gave up all his powers and positions of honor, and went back to living like an ordinary citizen. Even now, the whole town is pulling for the lady, and we won’t let her be ridiculed.”

“Well, I’ll be—gyaaaah!”

Stifling the hoarse voice’s mocking remark, D turned to leave. “Sorry to bother you.”

Beauty’s spell over the sheriff was finally broken.

“What did you come here for? Where are you going? If you try anything funny with that lady, I’ll—”

The door closed.

Growing pale, the sheriff raced over to the cage where they kept the carrier pigeons.


Alighting from the carriage and looking up intently at her manse, the baron gasped with surprise and turned a somersault.

That was close!
the Nobleman thought. If anyone from town had been with him and could have read his mind, they’d have cocked their head to one side and wondered what had been close.

Awaiting the baron there in the sunlight was a fashionable chateau hemmed in by greenery. Uniformed butlers greeted them in the foyer, and the row of maidservants lined up in the grand hall bowed in unison while the baron walked proudly in the fore, head high and shoulders back as he strode down the corridor. In that regard, he was a Noble through and through.

At the end of a long corridor, he was given a guest room that was also opulently furnished. Almost everything in the house seemed to be made of glass and crystal. He excitedly looked all around, examined the furnishings, stuck his head out the window and shouted a greeting, and was jumping up and down on his bed when the lady and Totem came in.

Sipping from the glass the man brought him, the baron licked his lips and said, “It’s blood, isn’t it?”

“I thought our Noble guest should have only our finest hospitality.”

The baron was finally convinced the woman was crazy. She’d invited a Noble to her home, and offered him the thing he loved best. These were hardly the hallmarks of sanity. A smile naturally rose on his lips—the malicious grin of a Noble.

Setting down the glass, he asked, “And in return for this hospitality, you desire something?”

“Yes,” the lady said, nodding. “Please, save my husband.”

“Ah!”

The lady stood up. “Rather than tell you, I should first let you see him. My humble request can wait until after that.”


“We’re lost,” the left hand told the Hunter soon after they started down the road that led from town to Lady Millian’s chateau. They had crossed the brook and the bridge that were visible up ahead only a few minutes earlier. “If we keep going like this, it’ll just be more of the same. Could be something the Nobility set up, or a natural occurrence, or even some trick the humans are pulling—so, what do we do?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Hmph. Getting out’s easy enough, but I don’t think there’s any chance our short, bald Noble is having himself a grand old time. Serves him right. Why don’t we let things run their course for a while? It’d teach the little bastard a lesson for never listening.”

“If it only taught him a lesson, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll make us a path now.”

Taking his left hand from the reins, D let it fall by his side, where it opened naturally. A tiny face appeared in the palm.

“It’s one of the Nobility’s mazes, sure enough, but probably only for residential use. Wind alone should do, I suppose.”

Before it could finish speaking, the air started to howl. The trees to either side of the road shook, their branches and leaves all bending in unison toward the Hunter’s left hand. Toward the tiny face in the palm of his hand—and its even tinier mouth. It was sucking in air with terrific force. The wind was so great, the scenery became distorted. The wooden bridge collapsed, the trees tore apart—and then even the colors drained from the scene as it became a fog swallowed by the mouth on the Hunter’s palm.

The mouth closed.

Immediately, the wind ceased.

The cyborg horse whinnied. Rider and steed stood in the same spot as before, but the brook and the bridge had suddenly vanished. Only the road the cyborg horse was on stretched before them. In silence, without lauding the left hand for its efforts, D gave a kick to his steed’s flanks.

A gunshot echoed.

Bright blood and bits of his coat exploded in vermilion from D’s left shoulder.


II


D wheeled his horse around. Not a hint of pain colored the pale beauty of his heaven-sent countenance.

Down the road, a voice called out, “Ha! You did it!”

Just a hundred yards behind the Hunter, a man with a single-shot rifle was down on one knee with his weapon raised, while a number of men around him were slapping him on the back.

“That’s what he gets for trying some funny shit.”

“The carrier pigeon from the sheriff told us to set up the labyrinth, but look what happened to that. Well, this is what we do to anyone who wants to mess with the lady.”

“Oh, he’s still alive. Put another slug in him!”

Receiving another slap on the back, the man with the rifle slid back the bolt handle, ejecting a gleaming cylinder. A spent brass casing. Leaning the rifle against his shoulder, he pulled another large round from the ammo belt around his waist and loaded it into his weapon. Judging by how he had to focus on sliding the bolt back into place, he wasn’t a sharpshooter by trade. He merely happened to be the best shot among the group of men in the area assigned to operate the labyrinth.

At the same time he put the stock against his shoulder, he drew a bead. A cry of fear choked in his throat. D had closed to within ten yards of him. The gunman could tell it was the Hunter’s unnatural speed that’d rooted his stunned compatriots, leaving them unable to even call out to him. Plus, they’d looked at him. They’d seen D’s face, so handsome it could steal even a man’s soul. Still, the gunman got off a shot. Where that bullet actually went he’d never know, and the instant the cyborg horse sailed over their heads, the gunman’s right arm came off at the shoulder.

Startled by the cries that finally issued from their own mouths, the men plunged into the forest.

As the writhing gunman’s blood stained the ground, D quietly walked over. He’d already dismounted. He stood beside the man. The wind tossed the hem of his coat, and the tip of his longsword was thrust under the nose of his foe, who groaned in a sea of blood—such a vision of beauty there in the stark sunlight. How well the hue of darkness, death, and bright blood suited this man. D.

“If I don’t stop the bleeding, you’ll die.”

His voice was cold—and telling the truth in such a tone should’ve made it unsettling. But forgetting even his own hellish pain, the man looked up at D with eyes clouded with rapture. “Please . . . save . . . me.”

“I’ll fix you up. And then you’ll answer some questions.”

The man nodded. His eyes never left D.

Reaching out with his left hand, D touched the man’s wound. A second later the bleeding stopped completely, as if time itself had paused, and the man’s entire body felt at ease. His pain had faded.

BOOK: Record of the Blood Battle
13.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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