Chapter 34

Marcello opened the book and spoke.

“I’ve been digging through the Monster Encyclopedia.”

“I know what book that is. So—why?”

“Vampires, specifically.”

“Vampires? You’re still obsessing over Mago? Leave Mago alone for now....”

“I was only researching ways to counter the air raid. Anyway, here.”

She tapped a passage.

Vampires.

A subsection on Hybrids.

“When a human drinks vampire blood, they can turn into a vampire—though the success rate is low. Even if it works, the transformation is incomplete.”

“Just hearing that drinking blood could turn you into the creature that owns it sounds insane. Humans don’t become turtles by sipping turtle blood.”

“Turtles, suddenly?”

“Popped into my head.”

“Well, whatever. That incompleteness could be our opportunity.”

“Opportunity?”

“Hybrids inherit vampire traits only halfway. They’re weaker than purebloods, but the vampire weaknesses are diluted. They can live in sunlight.”

“Hmm....”

“They can sunbathe, yet they don’t grow stronger at night. They can look at crosses, yet they’re not immune if one touches them.”

“Everything about them is vague. No wonder they’re called hybrids.”

“Don’t you think they could be useful? Raw material for the Demon King’s army.”

“Possible, I suppose.”

“Such a lukewarm reaction. I thought it was a huge discovery.”

“Mago will handle it. Investigating vampires is Mago’s job. If he’s already figured this out and found a hybrid willing to cooperate with the Imperial Army, he’ll report it first.”

“You know we’re short on time.”

“Marcello, you just want to help Mago.”

“Excuse me?”

“Speak plainly.”

Captain Shimena’s expression chilled.

“About what?”

“I know you want to work with Mago. You keep testing his abilities, and once he meets your standard—”

She locked eyes with Marcello.

“You plan to dump the burden on him. You know better than anyone how alike you are.”

“Dump what, exactly? Me?”

“Marcello, you intend to name Mago your successor and run away. Someone as indifferent as you has been oddly attentive to Mago lately. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know the weight of your nicknames feels like a mountain. Every Imperial defeat lands on your shoulders, or so it seems. I respect that trait—no, I already do.”

“Funny story. No idea whose life you’re describing.”

Marcello shrugged, waving the Monster Encyclopedia.

“But you still—”

A knock interrupted.

The door opened cautiously.

Kinjo snapped a crisp salute.

“Recruit Kinjo Shua, 42nd Platoon!”

“Perfect timing. Meet Marcello Arnes—your partner from tomorrow.”

Captain Shimena gestured toward Marcello.

“Er...?”

“I hear you can use clairvoyance magic. You two will head to the Ruined Capital. You’ll pierce the structure of the Demon King’s Two Wolves and that Moving Castle. The Empire’s fate rests on it.”

“Y-yes, ma’am!”

Kinjo answered with all his might.

Marcello sighed and led him out.

Even in the corridor, Kinjo looked dazed.

“I can’t see a thousand li... I have to get close.”

“I know. We’re going to comb every claw-mark of the Demon King Castle.”

“Every... claw-mark?”

“You’d better write your will, recruit.”

“B-but Lady Marcello is with us.”

Silently, Marcello pulled an envelope from her coat pocket.

Her will.

* * *

Demon King officers are blades.

Blades break, or blades are taken.

From the start, I chose to break.

I knew hybrids existed.

Common knowledge—listed right in the Monster Encyclopedia.

Yet I tried to crush them.

Hybrids turned vampire only to escape the war.

Not because they meant to sit it out.

“I....”

I could have mentioned my ability to become a bat and convinced Captain Shimena, but I gave up early.

Simple reason.

“I’ve never actually seen a human reborn as a vampire.”

Day-walking vampires?

They don’t exist.

Madam Anne took money and blood from humans, then killed every one.

At noon, when vampires can’t move, I headed to the new store Madam Anne was preparing.

—She bought another building recently. Still setting it up. Just a warehouse for now.

My senior’s words echoed.

That three-story building is still “under preparation.”

It was exactly what a warehouse should be.

The barrels of orc liquor stacked outside were untouched.

It had remained nothing more than a storage shed.

I opened the door.

The padlock clattered uselessly.

A few kicks smashed it, and I stepped inside.

First floor.

Empty.

But there were sounds.

“Grrr...”

“Ngh... unnh...”

Unseen owners of those groans breathed into my ears.

At the same time, a chill crawled over my skin.

I climbed to the second floor.

Past it, to the third.

Even at the top, nothing changed.

I couldn’t pin down what the noises were.

I went back down and cast Ripple.

A section of floor answered differently.

I tramped over every inch until—

one plank vibrated unlike the rest.

“Here.”

I pried it up in a hurry.

A large trapdoor appeared.

When I heaved it open, the groans swelled.

A single basement level.

Humans frozen mid-turn, like the man I’d met before.

“So this isn’t a warehouse after all...”

They were manacled wrist and ankle, chains bolted to the wall.

No spark of life remained in them.

Sunlight had been denied so long it seemed forgotten.

Still human—never fully reborn as vampires—yet the sun was forbidden them.

“I’ll... get you out. Just... hold on a little longer.”

I raced back to the inn and scrawled a note for Captain Shimena.

Every condition I’d promised her was met.

First: expose Anakonda as a vampire den.

The third and fourth floors already proved it.

Second: show vampires are enemies of mankind.

Madam Anne’s warehouse spoke for itself.

And third—

“Send the Special Task Force in to wipe them out.”

Only that final step remained.

I tossed aside the white tunic and brown pants, pulling on my old training-center uniform.

Buttoned, buckled, adjusted until it hugged my frame.

The red sword slid between belt and hip.

No reason to hide the blade any longer.

My act as an Anakonda clerk was finished.

The final battle was coming.

I tucked the letter inside my coat.

On my way out, the mirror in the inn room caught my reflection.

This look felt right again.

I headed to Anakonda and smashed open the stable door.

Freed one of the horses and swung up.

I rode straight for the Imperial checkpoint.

“As many as possible, as far as possible, before nightfall.”

When the sun sets, Madam Anne will wake.

* * *

Captain Shimena folded Mago’s letter and slipped it into her pocket.

“Perhaps calling him headstrong was... my own leap to judgment.”

Especially the last line:

[So I really need my fellow trainees’ help.]

That sentence stayed with her the most—and pleased her.

She pocketed the letter and shouted.

“For that reason, 42nd and 43rd Platoons will move south!”

Eight recruits stood in formation.

She looked them over.

“Only two from 42nd can march right now.”

Her gaze shifted between Amon and Belle.

“Cooperate with the 43rd—Second Training Center graduates. I know the rivalry between First and Second runs deep...”

She swept the entire group with a hard stare.

“But step out of line on this mission and you’re done.”

One last grave warning.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Eight different voices answered as one.

“It took two days for the letter to come from the south. Another two for the Special Task Force to arrive. Four days, minimum. From the moment Mago sent that letter, she’ll be completely alone for four days. Mago must have expected that. We just have to show up right when she thinks we will—and make a grand entrance.”

With that, Captain Shimena walked away.

“Mago, that lunatic. What the hell has she gotten herself into...?”

Amon muttered.

His voice hovered just loud enough to graze the back of the captain’s head.

Shimena spun around instantly.

She had sharp ears, Amon thought.

“Amon Coster.”

“Ma’am!”

“You, especially, need to do well.”

“S-she’s counting on me...?”

“So said Mago.”

“Y-yes, ma’am. Understood.”

A moment later, Amon spoke again—only after Shimena had vanished from sight.

“‘Do especially well’? There’s no way she said that about me.”

“Tell me about it. Ugh, just picturing it gives me goose-bumps. Mago going, ‘Amon Coster, you need to do especially well.’”

Belle mimicked Mago in a syrupy falsetto.

“Hey... cut it out, you’re creeping me out.”

“Amon Coster, you especially—”

“I said stop.”

“—especially suck.”

“Hey, Belle, that one was close.”

“Right? Pretty good, huh?”

Belle giggled.

“Aren’t you two a little too relaxed? The mission’s tomorrow.”

A voice drifted over from Unit 43.

“Who even is this Mago?”

“Why are all First Training Center grads such loose cannons...?”

Grumbles rippled through the ranks.

“What would they know about the Second Invasion—they weren’t even there...”

Amon answered.

“Look, Amon, you keep bringing that up, but back then—”

“Back then, what?”

“You just got lucky, that’s all. Didn’t some super-strong person help you? Someone with the same vibe as Marcello?”

“Elizabeth?”

“No, different name. Anyway, if it weren’t for her—”

“Then it’s Mago.”

Amon jerked his thumb at Belle.

“Unless your sister’s name is Elizabeth, it’s Mago.”

“Wait, what?”

“The person you’re thinking of? That’s Mago. She’s the reason we’re being sent.”

“She was a trainee...?”

* * *

By now Madam Anne must have figured out I’d slipped into the warehouse.

She’ll turn the whole red-light district upside down looking for me.

I’d expected that—but not this fast.

“Mago, Anakonda isn’t some ordinary tavern.”

The senior who’d shadowed me the whole way spoke up.

It had taken us half a day on horseback to reach the Imperial checkpoint.

Night had fallen—near midnight.

And the bat gliding after me hadn’t needed long to catch up.

Anakonda’s doors open at eight sharp.

Even if she’d left then, she’d made the trip in under four hours.

She’d chosen the direct route.

“And I’m a vampire.”

I tightened my grip on my sword hilt, ready to counter the instant she moved.

“Why confess now? You’re asking what I’ll do, now that I know?”

“Then tell me, Mago—what can you do?”

The question came out of nowhere.

“This is a market, Mago. Blood is just another commodity. It circulates cleanly, like blood through healthy veins.”

“Circulates...?”

“We don’t kill. We simply accept blood from guests who come to Anakonda of their own free will.”

She stressed the word free.

“We drink human blood in fair exchange, and we give our own blood in return. Everything happens because humans choose it. No crime, no victims. Even if you shout what you’ve learned from the rooftops, nothing will change. Not one thing.”