Chapter 44

“Madam...”

“Madam Anne... is dead...?”

The civilians who had been pushed back by the 7th Squad muttered in dazed voices.

“The Imperial Army...”

“What do we do now...?!”

“If Madam Anne is dead, we can’t get any more blood... All the other vampires are dead too... Damn it, what the hell are we supposed to do...?!”

I tuned them out and studied the spot where Madam Anne had fallen.

A blue glint lay buried in the black ash.

I picked it up.

A cube.

Its six faces were subdivided into nine rectangles each.

A cube—the original form of a magical tool.

A puzzle that turned until every side matched.

I twisted it with all my strength, but I couldn’t shift it. No human strength could. Physically, it was immovable.

“Mago, that’s...”

Karasma approached.

He lifted the cube and spoke—not to me.

“That’s Madam Anne’s magical tool. It commands lightning.”

I raised my voice so the civilians could hear.

“If the demon beasts fly in again, I’ll use this to stop them.”

“What...”

“The Imperial Army has no right to that...!”

“Say what you like. None of it matters. I’ll prove everything with results.”

I turned my back on them.

Curses and complaints erupted, but I brushed them all aside.

“Special Task Force... pulling out.”

Karasma gave the hand signal.

* * *

“Mago, do you know what day it is today?”

Captain Shimena asked.

We sat alone in her office.

“November thirtieth, isn’t it?”

“Right. Exactly fourteen days since you left on your solo mission. Two weeks to the day. Did you plan it?”

“I did intend to return within two weeks.”

“Hmph. I read your report. But—”

A pause.

“Your report-writing skill is unreal.”

“Is that even a skill?”

“Maybe not, but it shows experience. Not a single error, like you’ve done it a hundred times.”

“I guess I have a knack for writing.”

I deflected.

“Meaning you’re good with both pen and sword?”

“That wasn’t my intent.”

“Your tone sounds ancient. Speaking of age—how old do you think Madam Anne was?”

“She looked about sixty.”

“But vampires live far longer. She might’ve fought in the war a century ago. This could’ve been her second war. She knew plenty.”

“Perhaps.”

“You should’ve squeezed her for it. Threatened her life.”

“There wasn’t time.”

My eight years of war were more useful than her century of life. No comparison.

“Well, nothing to be done.”

Captain Shimena slid a folded uniform across the table.

Black cloth.

On the left breast and shoulder, the insignia of a black horse and a number—hidden by the fold.

“Take it, Mago. Good work.”

“Captain Shimena.”

“Hm?”

“There’s unfinished business in the red-light district. After the Second Invasion, Madam Anne took the orcs and goblins—or so I believed.”

I knew it was the Ghost King’s doing, but I phrased it differently.

For the next move.

“She did.”

“This time, she might take the vampire corpses too.”

“Madam Anne is dead. You killed her...”

“But the vampires in Anakonda told me they feed only on humans. Someone else might’ve taken the orc and goblin bodies.”

“So we killed the wrong monster? No—those vampires were still farming humans anyway...”

“I’ll look into it.”

“You’re not thinking of going back down there?”

“I have to.”

“Mago, how many times...”

“There’s gunpowder left behind.”

“Gunpowder?”

“I’ll bring the powder and fireworks Madam Anne stockpiled. The fireworks could serve as signal flares for the Task Force.”

“Gunpowder’s useful, sure, but you’re cursed, I swear...”

“Superstition is a waste of time.”

“Everyone’s making a fuss over it. I said I’d handle it. ...No point holding you back, I get it.”

He repacked the black uniform.

With quick fingers he peeled off the insignia.

Just as fast, it vanished into a pocket.

“Caught a glimpse of the number—true?”

“Hmm? Of what?”

“The digit.”

“Ah, you saw nothing.”

“Is it really mine?”

“Enough questions.”

“Looked like Twenty-One...”

“Twenty-One? The 21st? You, a hatchling who’s barely been assigned?”

Captain Shimena’s voice cracked louder.

“Fine, forget I asked. No need to sneer...”

“Fresh chicks don’t rate the 21st. Your batch-mates are 42nd. Don’t reach too high.”

“Understood. I’ll take my leave, then.”

He stood and saluted.

“Hurry back. You’re not getting two weeks this time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After Mago left:

“So he saw it after all...”

Shimena drew out the insignia she’d hidden.

“Brat’s too cocky; I hate saying it aloud...”

Leaning back, she lifted the patch.

Her thumb had covered the emblem.

Slowly she moved it aside.

The number Mago had misread flipped upright.

Not 21—15.

The 15th Platoon’s mark.

* * *

The man knelt, and the tilt sent the crown sliding from his white hair.

The glossy black circlet flashed under the lights.

Just before it fell, he snatched it.

He set it straight, then stroked the beast’s obsidian head.

A Black Winged Demon Beast.

The creature only squawked at him.

“Hm, very well.”

He nodded as though they shared a language.

“Understood.”

Rising, he eased the winged demon out the window and resumed his throne.

Both throne and crown were hewn from the same black stone.

“Yura!”

No answer.

“Yura! Yura Veden!”

Only when he added her surname did she enter the chamber.

“Don’t use my name.”

“Can’t keep calling you Ghost King, can I?”

“Why summon me?”

“Madam Anne’s dead.”

The Demon King raked a hand through his white hair.

“Eh?”

“Dead. The Task Force sniffed her out and took her head early. Pity—she was slated to command a whole division.”

He shrugged.

Slumping back, he yawned.

“Hmm?”

The Ghost King cocked his head.

“What?”

“Who?”

“Who’s Madam Anne?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Was I supposed to?”

“Guess not. She was a Vampire Lord. Yura, this time...”

“This time, we bring her back. A Vampire Lord should prove useful.”

“Thought you’d say that.”

“Where did she die? The body intact?”

“South side of the Imperial Capital, red-light district. It’s ash by now—can you raise even that?”

“Depends on the remains.”

The Ghost King turned to leave.

He would head straight for the brothel quarter.

“Ah, Yura.”

“What?”

He glanced back, only halfway.

“How do you think the Imperial Special Task Force figured out Madam Anne’s identity?”

“Hmm...”

“I thought you might be able to guess.”

“They said they moved first because they already knew.”

“Right. Otherwise nothing makes sense. It’s too precise to be luck, the way they zeroed in on the Anakonda Tavern at once.”

“What’s an Anakonda, anyway? A snake? Don’t tell me they sell snake liquor?”

“Ugh, just hearing about it gives me the creeps. Anyway, how did they know?”

“Don’t care.”

* * *

“Marcello-nim, over there.”

Kinjo pointed with a finger.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take a look.”

“Sure...”

The two of them watched a woman.

Each time her body shifted, long silver hair swept across her armor like a ripple.

The Ghost King traveled on his favorite mount.

The woman’s horse was plated in patchwork armor.

Not to protect the beast—

it looked more like a desperate attempt to hold the animal’s shredded carcass together.

Kinjo’s eyes blazed blue.

“Kinjo Shua, what do you see?”

“Uh...?”

He could only twist his face in disgust.

“Kinjo?”

“Ngh...”

He lowered his head.

A tremor ran through him.

“What’s wrong?”

“E-empty... hollow.”

“Hollow?”

“That... thing can’t be called human.”

The tremor was fear.

“I don’t know how it moves. Outside, it looks human, but inside it’s... nothing.”

“Like a doll.”

“Yes, exactly...”

Marcello tightened her grip on her spear while she kept the Ghost King in the corner of her eye.

“Planning to fight...?”

“No... forget it.”

She relaxed at once.

“Our mission isn’t to fight that woman whose name we don’t even know. Let’s go—Demon King Castle.”

She lifted her gaze.

Two wolves the size of mountains filled her vision.

Black Wolf and Red Wolf.

They moved with the distant clang of metal striking metal.

“We’ll deal with her next time.”

“Understood.”

The two set off at an easy pace.

* * *

My guess:

the Ghost King will come straight to the red-light district.

A Necromancer who drags corpses back to life.

This time the raw material is better than humans, orcs, or goblins—

superior.

I wondered whether vampires turned undead could move in daylight, but even setting that aside,

their strength and toughness make them ideal.

He’ll come, no doubt.

“Why have you returned?”

The 7th Squad Commander asked.

“I need to borrow some gunpowder.”

The same powder I’d used to fool Madam Anne.

I pointed to the orc barrels filled with black powder.

“You mean the gunpowder?”

“I have uses for it, and I ought to take it with me.”

“Our squad was actually planning to secure that...”

“If there’s any left, I’ll set it aside for you.”

“If there’s any left—what kind of talk is that...”

I hoisted a powder keg and re-entered the Anakonda.

Inside, vampires lay under sheets, piled like a hill.

Every last one killed by me.

Once the Ghost King resurrects them, they’ll be walking bombs.

I mixed the powder among the corpses.

“W-what are you doing? Handling bodies so casually—urk...”

“I’m used to it.”

“I thought you were a... recruit?”

“Long army service isn’t the only way to get used to corpses. Civilians are used to them now too, I’m afraid.”

“Hello there!”

A bright voice cut in with a sudden greeting.

I turned my head to find the source of the voice.

It belonged to one of the five Hybrid Vampires locked in the warehouse.