CHAPTER 3

—

I

—

There was nothing save a single lamp to light the wooden shack. Windows rimmed with the remains of shattered glass let the icy wind blow in mercilessly, sharp as a sword and cold as the breath of the frost demons that inhabited the northern sea. The dozen or more people seated inside on the wooden benches were left shivering. One side of the shack was wide open, and across from it lay sea and sky as dull and gray as lead. Coming across a limitless expanse of cold water, the wind was naturally freezing, and the old-fashioned oil heater set in the middle of the shack served little purpose. Impressive as its size was, its performance was pitiful.

If you approached the entrance and looked far off into the distance—about seven miles across from the shack—the silhouette of land loomed blackly like the back of some behemoth. Hook-beaked sea birds swooped down, trying to smash through the crests of the mighty breakers. In order to pierce the armored exterior of the shellfish they relished, the birds were able to increase the molecular density of their beaks and teeth, but for that short time their mass also increased. Because of this, any birds that didn’t manage to burst through the waves at high speed and crack open the shellfish would soon find themselves unable to pull out of their dive.

The shadowy form on the opposite shore stretched on forever to either side, and the water between them seemed like an ocean between two islands, but it was actually a canal, and the two pieces of land were siblings that came together again several hundred miles away. Both those who wished to cross over to the opposite side of this vast channel and those headed much further inland came to this little harbor and boarded the regularly scheduled ferry. It was a large ship that could accommodate two hundred passengers or more. For people seeking to avoid the decrepit overland routes and the various supernatural beasts and creatures that prowled them, this one modern convenience proved indispensable. Its only drawback was that weather and waves could stop service indefinitely, causing delays of days or weeks while they waited for the weather to clear again. But usually the captain’s skill and guts were enough to get them through. The ferry made the round trip six times a day.

The ship the people now awaited was the first of the afternoon and the third of the day. More than a dozen passengers were waiting, and true to Frontier tradition, most of them were farmers or merchants. The exceptions were a group of women who looked like part of the “gay trade,” a priest, and several men with swords and spears who were apparently roving warriors.

Particularly conspicuous in this group was a tall young man leaning back against one wall. He seemed to be carefully contemplating something, and his alarmingly good looks as he held that pensive pose caught the eyes of the rest of the passengers. And yet, the women there, who were well-skilled at getting close to men, didn’t do anything. Not only could they not approach him, but they couldn’t even speak to him. The scent of danger that radiated along with his beauty seemed to set off some instinctive sense humans had about matters of life and death. As if intentionally disregarding him, a farming couple with a child threw themselves into small talk with a traveling merchant, the warriors had a few drinks together, and the hut in general was filled with a fair bit of hubbub.

Suddenly catching sight of a dark shape, the ticket vendor at the dock across from the shack shouted, “Here she comes!”

Inside the shack, where the air had been so cold it’d seemed more like winter than just before summer, the mood lightened instantly.

“Right on schedule.”

“Looks like I’ll make it in time.”

“Where you headed?”

“The village of Lugosi—got some medicine to sell there, you know.”

A small blob of color wove through all of the chattering passengers. It was a young child, the son of the farming couple. Five or six years of age, his somewhat plump form quickly cut across the hut, discarded the candy wrapper he had in his hand in a trash barrel by the door, and then dashed right back again.

But just then, a powerful voice as loud as thunder roared, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” and the little boy sprawled across the floor.

Simultaneously, the eyes of the startled folks turned and focused on the three brutes who had risen angrily from the bench by the door. Everyone knew that this couldn’t be good. Armed with swords and spears, the men looked to be warriors. Though that trade generally consisted of wandering the Frontier and lending their skills to the war on monstrous creatures for a price, it attracted more than its share of uncouth characters. Well aware that the slightest problem might be a chance for them to cash in on their expertise, such people had no qualms about stirring up trouble themselves or threatening and blackmailing others when low on funds.

“Little bastard! You kicked my damn sword!” shouted a glowering individual who was by far the hairiest of the trio. Because he also happened to have a wool coat on, he actually looked more like a demonic beast than someone who might dispose of such creatures.

The other two warriors were quick to add their indignation.

“He’s got no manners at all!”

“Where the hell are his parents at?!”

One was a bald man clad in battered armor. The other wore slacks and a flimsy shirt that left his overdeveloped musculature quite evident. A single glance was enough to confirm them both as the worst kind of thugs that could ever be found.

“Darn it, Calvin!” the boy’s mother cried out in a tight voice as she ran to him, while the boy’s father walked over to the men.

“Please accept our apologies,” the farmer said. “He is just a child, after all.”

“I ain’t accepting shit!” the furry warrior growled as he slapped the hilt of his sword with one hand. “This here’s the tool of my trade. You know, even the least little nick to it might cost me my life someday. Then what would you have to say? You trying to tell me my life don’t mean a damn thing to you or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the boy’s father replied, already deathly pale.

The rest of the crowd glared at the warrior reproachfully, but when his cohorts looked around, the others all turned their eyes to the floor.

“Here—I hope this will set things right again.” Pulling a cloth pouch from his pocket, the boy’s father forced a few coins into the man’s hand.

Glancing at the money, the man bellowed, “You gotta be kidding me!” and swung his hairy arm through the air. The coins clattered noisily across the stone floor, and the air seemed to freeze solid. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s someone who thinks that money solves everything. I’m gonna teach you and your brat some manners!”

The warrior’s hairy paw caught the father by the front of his shirt. The father tried to say something, but couldn’t.

Suddenly, there was a swift movement through the otherwise frozen world. The boy had just tugged at the waist of a handsome young man who was leaning back against the wall. “Mister—help me!” the child sobbed, perhaps sensing with youthful intuition that this young man would be up to the task.

But the young man didn’t move. He didn’t so much as look at the boy.

On the other hand, the three warriors did react.

“You gonna do something about this?” asked the man wearing the armor plate. His tone was a good deal more threatening than that of his hairy companion. He was probably the leader of the trio. “Make no mistake; we ain’t having a beauty contest here. You’d do well to keep your trap shut.”

“Good advice,” was all the young man said. He didn’t look at the trio. But it wasn’t because he was afraid to meet their eyes—and everyone there could tell as much. “This doesn’t concern me. Neither this child’s request nor your threats have any bearing on me. However—” the youth said, slowly turning his gorgeous and pale visage toward the other men, “never address me again.”

His words were soft. They didn’t carry the tone of a command. He was merely conveying his wishes.

The men grew stiff. The hairy one’s cheek started to twitch, and the man in armor swallowed hard.

While it wasn’t clear whether or not he’d seen the results of his glare and his brief remarks, the young man turned back the way he’d been facing.

Suddenly, the bald warrior raised his right hand—in it, he held a long spear. Throwing it at this range, he couldn’t miss. If anyone had noticed it, it was hurled with such speed there was nothing they could do about it.

But then the spear stopped in midair. With a firm crack like a rawhide whip had wrapped around it, the weapon was caught right near the middle of the shaft by a pale hand that shot out from the left side.

The bald man’s eyes bulged in their sockets.

The hand was that of a woman. Easily adjusting her grip on the weapon she’d seized with unbelievable skill, then rising with determination, the woman had a large frame that ran a tad to the heavy side. She had to be around twenty years old. With an average face that wouldn’t have made her stand out in a crowd, she’d actually stood right next to the merchant group without any of those talkative fellows ever noticing her, and the three toughs were frankly surprised to find she’d been sitting there. However, as she held the lengthy spear in one hand and glared at the three of them, her eyes and her expression were infused with a solemn air that made it clear she wouldn’t let this outrageous action stand. Needless to say, this determination came with the kind of skill it took to pluck a whizzing spear out of the air.

“Stop it. This is no way for a grown man to behave. Why don’t you think for a moment about where we are? Just what would you do if this spear had hit someone else, huh?!” the woman said, both her words and bearing unbelievably brisk and spirited as they overwhelmed the trio of warriors.

Finally, the hairy one snorted, “You bitch . . .” His eyes had a dangerous look in them.

Now free of the hairy fist, the boy’s father hastened back to his wife and child.

“Oh, so now you’re gonna pick on a girl, are you?” the woman said in a gentle tone as she coolly returned the glares the vicious eyes had trained on her.

The hairy warrior’s left hand buzzed into action—he’d just undone the latch on his long sword. Now there was nothing left to do but draw.

“Please, stop it already,” someone said. It was a priest in an old brick-red cassock. But in this case “priest” didn’t mean the leader of the sort of strange new religions popping up like mad in the Capital and its surrounding areas. The kind of holy men that traveled the harsh Frontier were apostles of primitive faiths that held the very foundations of humanity’s vital energies. Due to the fact that he was bound to have some incredible skills or spells at his disposal, this was the man of whom the trio of thugs had been wariest. On closer inspection, the old priest’s graying hair was thinning, and his eyes and skin both lacked vitality. Thinking that the holy man would soon back down if threatened, the warriors had gone into action, but when the priest stood up, he actually proved a disturbing sight.

“What the hell do you want?! Keep out of this!” the bald warrior shouted back at the holy man.

“Stop it. If you’re set on continuing this, you should have no problem doing so once we’ve all reached our destination. If blood’s to be spilled, spilling it now with this journey ahead will only lead to remorse. You should at least hold off until we get to where we want to go,” the old priest added.

His words found some support.

“That’s right. You don’t choose a place like this to go stirring up trouble.”

“Men your size should try acting their age. Buffoons!”

The trio glared at the bar girls, and the women turned away disdainfully.

Things had gone so far that the warriors couldn’t just drop the matter, and yet they couldn’t very well cut down everyone who stood against them, either. The thugs exchanged bloodshot glances.

The reprieve everyone had been waiting for came in the form of the ticket seller’s voice as he cried out, “Okay, get in line. Line it up now. The ship’s here.”

—

“Say, mister—you were pretty great,” said a bar girl who approached from the forward seats, her words causing the young man to look up ever so slightly.

They were toward the back of the ship. Under the black vinyl canopy there were ten rows of benches on either side, with each seating four passengers. Beyond the little window of semi-translucent plastic, the dull gray sea was baring its foamy teeth. It was fairly rough.

Less than ten minutes had passed since the ferry had left the dock. Its speed was twelve knots, or almost fifteen miles per hour. Originally procured from the Capital, the ship’s gasoline-powered engine was huge but rather antiquated.

“Those three talked tough, but one look from you had them shaking in their boots. Not bad for someone as young as you. You must’ve come through a few tight jams with that sword of yours,” the woman said, turning her feverish gaze to the lavishly decorated blade cradled in his powerful arms. “Still, you’d do well to watch yourself. I’m sure they haven’t forgotten about you. And I don’t suppose you’ll be safe even in here. But I sure wouldn’t step outside if I were you,” the woman said, her tone growing heated. “So, what’s your name anyhow? If we’re headed the same way once we reach shore, I was thinking maybe . . .”

The bar girl’s hand gently brushed against that of the young man.

“There is one thing you can do for me.”

This sudden remark from him caught the woman off-guard. “Um, sure,” she stammered, nodding reflexively.

“You told me I shouldn’t go outside, but there’s someone on the stern that interests me—the man who jumped on just as the ferry was pulling away. Would you be so kind as to see what sort of fellow he is?”

Squinting at him, the woman asked, “Is someone after you?”

A glimmer of gold disappeared into the cleavage of her blouse.

“Will that suffice? I’d appreciate it.”

Fishing the coin out with great haste and staring at it in amazement, the bar girl then gave a nod of obvious delight and headed off to the stern of the ship.

At just that moment, cries of fright rang out from the front of the seating section. It sounded like the boy and his parents. The cries of the child resounded particularly loudly, and the father’s shout of “What are you doing?” soon became a shriek of pain.

The heavy footsteps that closed on the young man were those of two of the warriors.

“Care to come with us for a little bit?” the hairy thug said, tossing his jaw toward the ferry’s stern.

Looking up at the man in armor right beside him, the young man asked, “Where’s the third guy?”

“Sheesh. That’s the least of your concerns, bub,” the man in the armor spat.

The child seemed utterly terrified as he stared up at his pair of captors with a vacant gaze.

“If you’re worried about this brat, you’ll give us some of your time. Step outside and just see for yourself.”

—

II

—

As she sensed someone drawing closer, the woman spun around reflexively. Even after she saw that it was the bald warrior, no fear or surprise crept into her expression. “What do you want?” she asked. Her tone was the epitome of calm.

“You caused me a hell of a lot of embarrassment,” the bald man growled, the head of his spear gleaming just before his face. It was the only light on this gloomy day. Aside from the lead-gray sky and sea and the white wake of the ferry, there was only a mass of black cloud that seemed to follow the ship at the mercy of the wind.

“That’s funny,” the woman said, a smile surfacing on her lips. “The end of your spear is shining. As bad as the weather is, I guess there’s a ray of light out there somewhere. The sun is shining. You know, where I come from, the winter’s long and summer’s over before you know it,” the woman continued somewhat nostalgically, and the second she finished, a flash of white light shot at her chest.

As the woman sprang to the right with a speed that was staggering given her general build, the head of the spear twirled around after her, leaving a glittering trail. But the spearhead met only thin air.

The bald warrior’s eyes were wide with surprise, but it was still remarkable that he only halted for a heartbeat before stabbing straight ahead again with his spear.

There was a brisk slap.

“What the hell?!” the man gasped, this time driven to comment by his astonishment.

The head of his spear had stopped an inch shy of the woman’s ample bosom, caught in her hands. It was sandwiched between her joined palms.

“Ouf!” the man grunted as his muscles bulged. Shoulders and chest, arms and legs—they all seemed swollen to nearly twice their normal size. But the tip of the spear didn’t budge. It wouldn’t tremble in the slightest, as if it were lodged into one of the iron trees of Lamarck.

“You like that?” the woman said, her smile looking a bit pained. “Not the greatest trick in the world, but it’d be more than enough to snap the head off this. Isn’t this one of the precious tools of your trade?”

The bald man didn’t answer. His face swelled in a heartbeat, and vermilion flooded into his cheeks. It was almost as if all of the blood in his body had rushed into his head. The man then let out a long grunt.

A shaken look on her face, the woman started to rise steadily.

Incredibly enough, the man lifted his seven-foot-long spear high over his head with a grown woman still clinging to the end of it.

“Don’t let go if you don’t want to,” the bald warrior told her. “Go ahead and break the end off. I’m just gonna dunk you in the water anyway. The cold’ll be enough to stop your heart for sure. Feel like letting go? You do that and I’ll impale you in midair!”

And then, after a cruel reprieve of a few seconds, the man prepared to spin his spear around.

At that very moment, the woman he held up in the air sprang higher. The spear was still for a moment as the warrior tried to compensate for the sudden loss of the woman’s weight, and in that brief moment her pale hand chopped at the weapon’s shaft. Watching out of the corner of her eye as the spear tip flipped end-over-end to knife gently into the water, the woman landed spectacularly on the cramped deck. Exhaling lightly, she stuck both hands out in front of her body. Her left leg was bent somewhat to support her weight, while her right foot was one step forward and balanced on its toes, like a cat. Given this woman’s skill, she could probably do whatever she wanted to with that right leg now that it didn’t have to hold her up.

“Not too shabby,” the bald man said as he delivered a loud slap to his own face. “You surprise me. But if I can’t spear you, how ’bout I just use the pole?”

Something whipped through the air. It sounded like a whistle.

To evade that thrust of ungodly speed, the woman twisted her body and leapt back.

“Take that! And that! And that!” the man shouted with thrust after thrust, never letting the woman get very far away.

After a second leap and a third, the woman reached the stern. A horse snorted. Not all of the travelers had been on foot. Though she tried to circle around them, she couldn’t—the rounded end of the weapon had a force far beyond the earlier strikes when it stopped about a foot and a half shy of the woman’s face. Almost as if pierced by the tenacity and bloodlust pouring from her opponent, the woman’s face was soon covered with beads of sweat.

“Looks like we both mean business,” the bald warrior said, revealing his yellowed teeth. Just then, his eyes slipped a bit off of her and focused on something else—a gorgeous figure who had just appeared next to the woman from the rear door to the ship’s cabin. “What the hell do you want?!” the man growled in a low voice.

The slight alterations to his tone and the glint in his eyes made the woman turn to look, too.

“You’re—” she mumbled.

“You gonna try and stop me?” the bald man asked, having somewhat rekindled his murderous intent.

There was no reply. But in lieu of one, a strangely indescribable miasma spread around them like thick honey, making the man back away instinctively. Dripping with the same cold sweat as the woman, the thug found his eyes filled by the sight of the young man, and his graceful good looks seemed to drive the warrior’s thoughts toward a philosophical abyss.

—

“Well, well. Are we gonna do this?” the armored warrior said, his right hand reaching for the grip of his sword.

“Lemme go!” the boy cried.

The furry warrior looked down at the kid scornfully, and then shifted his eyes to the young man before him. “Aren’t you gonna do anything, pretty boy? You’re a lot colder than I thought.”

The young man didn’t answer him. Even as his field of view was occupied by the innocent face of the boy wriggling against those hairy arms, neither his eyes nor his gorgeous face betrayed the slightest glimmer of human emotion.

Behind the young man were the boy’s mother and father.

“Please, you’ve got to do something!” said one.

“Save him! I beg of you!” the other shouted.

Both parents sounded like they were on the brink of tears. But another voice came on top of their pleas. “I specifically told you not to pick a fight with me.”

“Oh, the stud speaks at last!”

“When you get to the next world, be sure to tell the gatekeeper exactly how I killed you,” said the other warrior.

With a whine from their scabbards, both thugs drew their blades.

“The kid is in the way,” the young man said casually.

The hirsute warrior shook his head. “No, he ain’t in the way at all. At least, not for me.”

“Stop it!” the mother shouted, her shrill cry shaking the chilly air.

“Have it your way then,” the young man said, his right hand reaching for his own longsword. While his opponents were thugs, it was also clear they must’ve lived through countless battles. The fact that he was willing to not only make enemies of the two of them but also to let them draw first had to be due to more than mere self-confidence. “You don’t have to let him go if you don’t want to. But don’t let my blade get away from you, either.”

What the young man had stated was really quite obvious. No one could defend himself from an enemy’s blade without seeing it, and the pair of thugs weren’t taking their eyes off the end of his sword.

His longsword came down with a swoosh! The movement looked gentle enough, but slashed fiercely through the air. Just as it was about to reach the planks of the deck, the blade stopped. The two warriors stood staring at it.

There was a whistle. Following the very same path, the young man’s blade began to rise. And then—

Watching, the thugs raised their swords again, too. They raised them high. As if following the lead of the young man, who was poised with his blade high over his head, they both took the very same stance. The gesture was in perfect synchronization. The only difference was they didn’t take the same step forward that the young man had.

The young man’s sword dropped coolly. The blades that the two thugs brought down at exactly the same time met nothing but thin air, and bright blood shot up from the head of the hairy warrior like a pillar of smoke. Without a sound, he dropped backward.

“Mommy!” the boy shouted, breaking free from the hairy arm and dashing away. The tiny figure bumped into the young man’s leg.

A horizontal slash buzzed through the air toward the young man’s cheek. It was the armored warrior’s second attack. Oddly enough, his first blow had come from above—just like that of his furry compatriot.

Pale sparks flew off the blade harshly. The young man had parried the blow with his peerless skill.

“Shit!” the man in armor shouted as he pulled his blade back again, but he then made a strange move. Holding his blade at eye-level, he moved both hands to the right as quickly as he could and kicked off the ship’s deck in a mighty bound. A second later, his chest was pierced cleanly by a thrust from the blade the young man held exactly the same way. Falling face-first without a sound, by the time the body finally thudded against the deck, the young man’s blade was back in the scabbard at his waist.

As the young man’s hand came away from his weapon’s hilt, the boy shouted with joy, “You did it, mister! You did it!” His previous fears were now completely forgotten as he rushed over to the young man from behind. Blushing, the boy leapt for the young man’s back.

A second later, two silvery flashes shot past each other.

The back of the young man he was about to cling to was no longer there, and after the boy flipped head over heels and hit the floor, his right arm was missing from the shoulder-down.

A bloody mist hung in the air.

Strangely enough, the boy immediately leapt up again. Pressing down on his shoulder as blood gushed from it, he was rapidly losing the color from his face, where not a fragment of his earlier innocence remained. Filled with the sly villainy of an old man, his eyes were trained on his own right arm, which had fallen at the young man’s feet—an arm that held a sharp needle in its plump little hand.

“A poison needle, eh?” the young man muttered. “You may have thought you had me fooled, but I’m sorry to disappoint you. Still, it’s a strange sort of talent you have—the parents and the bar girl aren’t real people. Of course, these thugs aren’t either. State your name!”

There was a sword dripping with blood stuck right under the boy’s nose, but he only laughed in a low voice. It wasn’t the voice of a child. Rather, it was the tone of a man untold centuries old and heavy with wrinkles. “How long have you known?” he asked.

“From the very beginning, when the farmer pulled out his money back at the landing. The coins were fine, but the bills mixed in with them were blank slips of paper. Next, there was the bar girl. At a distance she would’ve passed, but she got too close. You probably wanted her to get in good with me in case these two thugs screwed up, but you were sloppy. That was the first time I ever touched a woman’s hand and couldn’t feel a pulse,” said the young man.

The boy—who was most likely a bizarre old man in flesh and spirit and every other regard aside from that youthful visage—listened without saying a word. But at this point, he leaned back and laughed out loud. “Oh, so that’s what happened? Up against someone like you, I should’ve had every possible angle covered. I see my preparations were inadequate. But I should expect no less from the Vampire Hunter D. Well, at least I did away with that impudent little wench while I was here.”

“You’re in for a disappointment there,” a mirthful voice laughed from the stern.

The boy turned around.

The woman was standing there. Behind her well-rounded figure was the most gorgeous young man in black.

“You mean—you?!” the boy screamed, his words directed not at the woman, but rather at this new, beautiful figure.

“My name is Glen,” the first young man said, as if nothing at all had transpired. “Over there’s the man you’re looking for. So damn handsome, I can’t even begin to compare. What, would you prefer it was his blade that dispatched you to the next world?”

“Oh, so that’s what happened. It’s just been one screwup after another today,” the boy said, laughing loudly once again. His face was pale, but nothing could extinguish the malevolent flames that burned in his eyes. “I figured there was no sense running myself ragged getting out here, so I came on my own. But then when I saw a guy at the harbor that was just far too good-looking, well, I jumped to the wrong conclusion. Well, if you’ve come this far, D, we must be headed to the same place.”

Lips that made women and men alike swoon moved as D said, “You work for Gilligan?”

“I suppose I do, at that. I’m not surprised you’ve heard as much. ‘Shin the Manipulator’ is the name. Just so I don’t give the rest of them an edge on me, I suppose I should tell you there’re four others headed for the village. They’re all enforcers hand-picked by Gilligan, and each and every one of them has some sort of weird ability. But interestingly enough, none of us knows what any of the others looks like. I’ll give you their names, though. There’s Egbert, Samon, the ‘dawn demon’ Gyohki, and Twin. And I can’t tell you how much I’d appreciate it if you could knock some of them off before the next time we meet. Of course, they might just take your life first, which would also work for me.”

The ship must’ve hit rough seas, because the deck then pitched to starboard—the side to Shin’s back.

D raised his right hand to fend off a breaking wave.

Exhausted perhaps, the boy with the hoarse voice pulled away the hand that’d been pressed to his oozing wound and slumped against the deck. But as the little body then sailed into the air, the only things that could’ve kept Glen from catching him in flight when the young man slashed up from below with his blade were the desperation of the boy or the young man’s own inattentiveness. The boy’s body cleared the deck and was headed for the waves—but he never touched the surface of the water, instead sailing up along the side of the ship and into the air.

Upon spying the mass of black clouds floating high above them, the woman not surprisingly muttered, “That’s impossible!”

Rapidly dwindling in the sky, the figure let his sneering words rain down to the trio on deck along with the gore from his wound. “This cloud is another of my puppets,” he said with a laugh. “Never even saw the strings, did you? We’ll meet again. And when we do, I’ll see to it you pay for what you did to my arm.”

“Not too shabby,” Glen muttered, sheathing his blade. He didn’t even glance at Shin, who’d dwindled to a mere speck.

The scattered bodies of thugs at his feet had changed into wooden dolls. Eight inches tall, the arms and legs attached to each were complete with joints. The roughly hewn faces and ragged clothes certainly bore some resemblance to the living men, with a sword made from a strip of wood. But what sort of sorcery had lent them their false life? Here was an almost incomprehensible foe.

“Wow—this one even has little veins filled with blood. That’s some detailed craftsmanship. He’s cut in exactly the same place that the live version was.”

“So are these two . . .” the woman said with distaste as she looked down at her feet, where the boy’s parents lay. They’d changed into dolls before her very eyes.

What Shin manipulated was puppets.

In the Capital and out on the Frontier, there were more than a few puppeteers who moved their creations with strings, magnets, or mechanical devices. Taking painted casings of tin or hollowed-out wood, they would construct large workings to move life-size human or monster models, while those fitted with other mechanisms could not only make comedic faces, but could spit fire or climb trees as well. But none of these techniques could begin to compare to the manipulations that’d played out on the ferry, which could almost be called a sort of sorcery.

Quietly crushing the doll of the hirsute warrior under foot, Glen turned in D’s direction.

It would’ve been nice to say Glen was every bit as handsome as the Hunter, but ultimately his good looks were still of this world. They were a far cry from the inhuman beauty that radiated from D. Around him alone the dusky sky and sea seemed tinged with an unearthly glow.

“Did you think you’d shaken me?” asked Glen. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve been following you for a week. And once you’d come this far, it was pretty obvious where you were going. I wanted to let you think I’d given up so I could actually go on ahead of you, and it looks like you fell for it.”

“Why are you following me?” D asked.

“Because you made me flinch,” Glen replied, a bitter smile rising on his lips.

“Flinch?”

“That night. That was the first time I was ever afraid of anyone. I couldn’t even cross swords with you. And that’s why I’m here.”

“What do you plan on doing?” asked D.

“Cutting you down,” Glen said matter-of-factly. And yet, there was a certain repulsiveness to his declaration that sent an involuntary shudder down the woman’s spine.

Suddenly, the wind whistled. The waves broke, one after another.

Glen’s voice fit the mood perfectly. “I’ll cut you down with my own two hands. I won’t be able to live with myself until I’ve done so.”

Saying nothing, D turned his back toward the man and his intense gaze.

“I won’t do it here,” Glen said, his words following after the Hunter. “But someday—at the right time, in the right place. Now, don’t run off on me.”

D’s left hand hung at ease by his side, and from it came the words, “Sounds like this guy was born to fight. Oh, what a pain.”

But in the end, that hoarse voice never reached Glen’s ears.

—

III

—

“Hey, wait up!” the woman called out to stop D on the squalid aft deck, which was crowded with horses and wagons and all sorts of strange baggage. “I can’t believe I ran into not one but two incredibly powerful guys. So, where were you—” the woman began to ask, but then her lips formed an awkward smile. “Oh, there I go asking a traveler the stupidest question. From the look of it, I don’t suppose I could even begin to guess where you’re going. It’s just that I was sort of curious.”

“Why is that?”

The woman’s eyes went wide. She never could’ve imagined this young man having any interest in anyone else.

“Because I helped you out?” the Hunter asked.

There was that, of course. She didn’t know whether she should be elated or horrified by the skill the young man had displayed in keeping the spear-man from attacking. However, in addition to that—

The woman shook her head from side to side, a weary look on her face. “No,” she replied. “But that reminds me—I haven’t expressed my gratitude yet. Thank you. My name’s Su-In.”

“I’m D.”

“That’s a great name. It’s like a sadness in the wind,” Su-In said, suddenly breaking into a smile.

It was a strange reaction. Those who met D’s beauty face to face and felt his strange aura were shaken by an unholy emotion that went hand-in-hand with their lust. They saw the Noble in him. But this woman alone seemed to be an exception. As she gazed at the dark huntsman, her eyes seemed to hold a boundless feeling of nostalgia.

The wind whistled.

Shivering, Su-In clasped her collar shut with one hand. “My, but it’s cold. If you were to tell someone from down south that this is summer, I don’t think they’d ever believe it.”

The woman turned toward the sea. The shadowy form of land was growing more substantial—but in front of it there bobbed a whitish lump—a chunk of ice. This was the northern sea, after all.

The weather controllers set beneath all of the continents hadn’t been able to stand ten millennia without adjustments, and the humans’ destruction had extended to even those devices once thought impregnable. As a result, in certain areas the course of nature was disregarded, and even now the seasons continued to follow a bizarre pattern. For example, near the center of this seven-mile-wide waterway the air and water temperatures suddenly plunged. No ice could be seen from the dock, but halfway across the chunks quickly became more and more common. While this was completely natural for those who lived in the area, the vast majority of travelers and merchants visiting for the first time would huddle in the ship and come down with a cold.

“Every time I travel these waters, I get the feeling summer’s never gonna come again,” Su-In said, the words rushing out like a sigh. Her breath formed white crystals.

“There’s something I’d like to ask you,” said D.

“Whatever it is, kindly ask away.”

“Where did you learn to do what you did?” D asked. He must’ve seen her fighting the man with the spear.

Not faltering in the least, Su-In replied, “When I was a kid, my village hired warriors. There was a lot of trouble back then. I guess I was a quicker study than any of the other girls.”

“Most men couldn’t have done that, either.”

“Stop it. You’re embarrassing me,” Su-In said, smiling wryly. There was no feminine fawning in her smile. Apparently, one of this woman’s strong points was being as guileless as a blue autumn sky. “You know, even without that my reputation is bad enough, what with people always calling me a tomboy or saying I could blow away a mechanized beast just by sneezing. So I’ll thank you to choose your words with care.”

“I will.”

“Stop it already. Would you just drop the serious face?” Su-In said, putting her hands out before her as if disgusted. “When I look at you, I feel like I can’t say anything until I dig up some deep philosophical point to discuss. Why don’t you try lightening up a bit?”

“Been like that since birth.”

Su-In’s eyes bulged in their sockets. The facetious reply had come in such a hoarse tone it was hard to believe it could possibly belong to the young man before her. Scanning the surrounding area in amazement, her eyes had a dubious look in them when they came back to D. “Did you just say that?” she asked.

“You bet—” the strangely fascinating tone replied, but it was suddenly choked out by a muffled cry of pain.

This time Su-In was staring at D’s left hip, and after her eyes fell on his tightly clenched left hand, she looked up at the man’s lovely face and asked, “So, are you a ventriloquist or something?”

“Well, sort of,” the same voice replied.

“Aren’t you a man of many talents!” the woman exclaimed, her face brimming with admiration.

Once again clenching his fist disinterestedly, D gazed toward land as he said, “We’ll be there soon.”

 

The ferry dropped anchor precisely on schedule, and family members and hotel touts were there to greet the disembarking passengers. Only slightly larger than the one on the opposite shore, this dock echoed with a wild mix of voices and footsteps. Though this was the first ferry of the afternoon, the sky remained dark, and it seemed like dusk couldn’t be that far off. Even the shadows people cast on the quay were thin.

Across the street was a line of brightly colored roofs. All of the homes were made of stone. Out on the Frontier, where one gust of the cold wind could freeze you to the bone, it was said to be the best sort of insulator. Behind the stone houses was a black mountain range projecting into the melancholy darkness of the sky. The colors worn by the people coming and going on the street were equally dark and oppressive.

Spotting a bus station soon after leaving the dock, D walked over to the barrack-style office with his cyborg horse and asked which way it was to the village of Florence.

He was told he’d have to make his way out of the north end of town, and then go over a mountain. The official grew pale as he also advised the young man not to go after sundown. “The area around the village used to be crawling with Nobility. Even now, there’re plenty of odd happenings in those parts at night. And the lone bus that’ll go there only runs in the daylight.”

Leaving the office, D quickly got back on his horse. He didn’t so much as glance at the people coming out of the landing. Undoubtedly Glen was out there somewhere, with his gaze pinned on the Hunter.

With a piercing screech, an engine-driven truck stopped right next to him. Though the empty cargo bed of the truck was wide open, the front seat was enclosed by iron plates. The door opened with a loud creak of its hinges, and Su-In stuck her head out.

“I suppose this is good-bye,” she said, her cheeks as rosy as apples thanks to the chilly air.

“Where are you headed?” D asked her. Perhaps he had some sort of hunch what she was going to say.

“Florence.”

“Live there, do you?” asked the Hunter.

“That’s right.”

“I hear the roads are dangerous by night,” was all D said as he tugged at his reins.

“How did you know that?! Say,” Su-In called out to him, somewhat flustered, “if you’re going that way, at least let me go along with you. As it happens, the road splits in quite a few places, and when it comes to dealing with strange characters, I’ve got more experience. The fact is, I’m in a hurry, too.”

“If you slow me down, I’ll leave you behind.”

“Funny—I was about to say the same thing to you,” Su-In shot back, letting her white teeth show.

From beside her, someone else commented in an austere tone, “I’ll forever be in your debt,” and bowed without looking at D. It was the same traveling holy man who’d stepped in to stop the fight between Su-In and the bald warrior back at the other landing.

“He helped me out when there was trouble back at the dock. Said he came to spread the word hereabouts, and that he’d love to go see Florence, too.”

“Well, I’m leaving right away.”

“So am I,” Su-In replied, a confident grin on her lips. As she sat behind the wheel of the truck, it was as if the simple country girl had become an entirely different person.

Just as the cyborg horse’s iron-shod hooves tore into the ground, the truck’s gasoline-powered engine gave a mighty roar.

 

Five minutes after leaving town, they came to a steep mountain road. The narrow lane that seemed to creep across the mountainous terrain disappeared between the trees.

Su-In stopped her truck. “Care to live a little dangerously?” she asked D.

“How’s that?”

“The regular way is to the right. But that’ll take us till noon tomorrow. If we go this way, we’ll get there by morning,” she said, her pale finger indicating the slope before them.

At first glance, it didn’t seem like much more than an area densely overgrown with trees and weeds, but a closer look through the faint darkness revealed an almost metallic glint barely discernible between the bizarrely twisted stalks and leaves. Apparently it was a road.

“This was the Nobility’s road. It punches straight through the mountain and runs all the way to Florence. As a matter of fact, the road we’ve been using up till now is part of the same one; it’s just been covered with dirt. Folks tried to get rid of it, but even a pile of gunpowder couldn’t put so much as a little bitty crack in it. I suppose the Nobles’ vehicles could’ve driven there in two hours, but we’ll be lucky to get there by morning. Yeah, I know it looks like hell, but once you’re on it, the bushes and trees don’t really get in the way much.”

“Good enough,” D said, wheeling his horse around. A second later, he raced ahead. The truck sped off just a little behind him.

Just as Su-In had promised, the grass and shrubs weren’t much of a hindrance at all. The iron-shod hooves rang out loudly on the road. Though various shades of green hid either side of the road, it had to be easily thirty feet wide. It was constructed of a reinforced plastic—undoubtedly, this highway had been intended exclusively for high-speed cars. In ages past, robotic horses and electronic cars designed to resemble elegant carriages would’ve passed this way bearing the lords and ladies of the Nobility. But all of that had become mere dreams of distant days, and now the hooves of a Vampire Hunter’s mount and the sickly rattle of an engine echoed across it.

They continued down that road for perhaps two hours. The world had already surrendered itself to the mastery of darkness, and yet there wasn’t a moon or even a single star to be seen in the stagnant heavens. It was just the sort of dark night that robbed all who dwelt on the Frontier of any peace of mind.

Off in the distance, there was the howl of what sounded like a wolf.

Rider and truck traveled side by side, with the vehicle’s headlights throwing bright circles on the road ahead as they zipped along at around forty miles per hour.

Suddenly the old priest turned to the woman in the driver’s seat and said, “My word, the aura of the supernatural has gotten thick out here. It certainly is a comfort having him along with us,” he groaned, the most solemn of expressions on his face.

“It sure is. He’s a hell of a man. I bet he could take this mountain road without any light at all.”

“In this pitch black? He couldn’t possibly . . .” the priest said, his words dying out. But he soon gave a nod of acceptance—even he must’ve been able to see the power within the young man who rode alongside them. “Who on earth is he? The other man back at the dock was certainly good looking, but he couldn’t begin to measure up to this one for sheer other-worldliness. Seems like he might have some blood that’s not entirely human . . .”

“Could be.”

“Lowly wretch that I am, I did happen to see a picture postcard of your village back in Cronenberg. It really is quite a nice—”

“Look out!” Su-In shouted.

The vehicle’s rubber-wrapped wooden wheels squealed harshly, and the priest went nose-first into the windshield.

Catching a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of her eye, Su-In leaned out the window. “D, what was that just now?” she asked.

Something white had cut right through the bright ring of the truck’s headlights. Judging from the fact that he’d halted his horse, D had clearly seen it, too.

“It was human in form,” said D. He was gazing off to the same side of the road where it had disappeared.

“In form?”

“I could see right through it. Probably a phantasm or some kind of holograph. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”

“It seems this used to be a hunting ground for the Nobility. Maybe it’s a ghost.”

“I couldn’t say for sure. And I don’t have time to look into it. Let’s go.”

Nodding, Su-In said, “You’re decisive. I like that.” She sounded quite charmed.

Once more they raced off into the darkness, and another hour passed.

Still holding a handkerchief to his brow as he leaned forward in his seat, the priest said, “Hey, that looks like—”

“A tunnel,” Su-In said.

Ahead of them, a glowing half-moon shape was rapidly drawing nearer.

“But there are lights burning inside!”

“Well, that’s because it was built by the Nobility,” the woman replied. “This road is over ten thousand years old, you know.”

Neither D nor Su-In halted. In no time, hoofbeats echoed all around them. Then they stopped. Su-In slammed on the brake as well.

The road seemed to run on forever in a straight line, but out in the middle of it a lone figure was simply standing. It was a man garbed in a blue cape.

Su-In knit her brow.

Something glittered as it fell from the man’s body to his feet: drops of water. The droplets rained from every inch of his form, as if he were some drowned soul just pulled from the water. With flowing blond hair, an unwavering gaze, and a regal nose—he had to be a Noble.

For several seconds, no one moved at all. Were they waiting to see how the other would react?

Then there was a harsh clattering. Seeing D galloping into action, the priest gasped. As the Noble stood stock-still, a flash of light from the mounted Hunter blazed toward his neck.

“He vanished!” the priest exclaimed.

At the sound of the old man’s voice, Su-In—who was still at the wheel beside him—returned to her senses and a cry of “Huh?!” escaped her.

There was no one on the road D was doubling back over.

“It was just an illusion. There was no substance to it,” D said matter-of-factly.

“What do you suppose it was?” Su-In asked him, her voice seeming to cling to him for support. “It was a Noble, right? Never saw one on this road before—I was really scared. But it’s been over two hundred years since there were any Nobility around here. I’ve never heard of there being any vengeful spirits wandering around, either.”

Saying nothing, D stared at the spot where the Noble had stood.

The two other pairs of eyes followed his, and at least one of those present let out a cry of astonishment. A glistening stain remained on the semitransparent floor. A puddle of water.

“This is salt water,” said D. Su-In didn’t see him as he put the palm of his left hand to the puddle. “Sea water . . .” The words were fragmented, but clear. He was contemplating their import.

For a while, there wasn’t a single sound.

“Shall we go?” D finally suggested.

“Sure,” Su-In responded, her tone already rock-steady once again.

 

Thirty minutes later they came out of the tunnel—there was forest to either side of them. Between dead trees that looked like the broken fingers of giants were scattered the rotten and collapsed remains of what seemed to be buildings.

“Would you happen to know what those are?” the priest asked with deep curiosity.

“They’re said to be vacation homes for the Nobility, but I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, so this was some sort of resort then? Even as cold as it is here?”

“It only got like this around here after there was some trouble with the weather controllers. While I’ve never seen it that way myself, legend has it this area was a tranquil getaway spot, lush and green, thousands of years ago. There are more ruins near the village.”

“You don’t say.”

“All things come to an end, whether they have life or not. See for yourself.”

Following the woman’s remark, the priest focused on the point she indicated through the windshield and gasped. At some point, the truck and D had been surrounded by pale blue lights. Wolves. Wrapped in a dazzling phosphorescence, dozens of them raced all around the truck and horse. From their eyes spilled streaks of flame, and from their savagely rent lips came gouts of burning blue breath.

“Oh, this isn’t good at all!” the old priest cried. “Those are pets of the Nobility—‘Children of the Night.’ Nothing on earth savors the taste of human flesh more than these creatures!”

“Get a grip on yourself. You’re not very enlightened for a priest, are you?” Su-In said scornfully. “They’re all illusions. The real pets died off ages ago.”

“Well, I’ll be!” the priest said, breaking into a grin and lightly smacking himself on the cheeks. Laughing aloud, he claimed he’d suspected it was something like that all along.

Su-In then said to him, “But they sure act like you’d expect pets of the Nobility to. Even though they’re just illusions, they still go after humans. Listen to that.”

The sound of trees being shredded shook the holy man’s eardrums, leaving him pale as a corpse.

“It’s okay. Tough as they are, they can’t eat a truck. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be so sure about him.”

“You needn’t worry,” the priest said, his voice swollen with confidence for some reason.

The luminescent forms were closing on D, too. It was impossible to say whether what gushed from their gaping maws was fiery breath or glowing spittle. One of the beasts was like a speeding ball of light as it came at him with all its might to bite into the horse’s right flank. But the very instant it seemed to sink its teeth in, there was a vertical slash of silvery light and the beast’s head separated from its body, sailing through the air and vanishing before it could strike the ground.

Two more raced toward the rider this time, blue streaks trailing behind them. Not even bothering to turn, D made a sweep of his sword to the right. As if drawn to the weapon, the vicious beasts launched themselves right into the silvery arc, and were reduced to flecks of light before they vanished. D’s skill with a blade was such he could’ve stopped a foe at the speed of sound.

The wolves’ speed dwindled swiftly. D tore right through their midst, and the truck did the same.

 

After meeting with no other eerie beings, the group reached the exit of the short, final tunnel just as the pale light of dawn was brightening the eastern sky. The Nobles’ thoroughfare twisted off into the distance, while to the left of it—beyond the sheer black walls that supported the road—the gray sea lay peacefully. The glittering points near the horizon must’ve been chunks of ice. The heavens were heavy with clouds the same shade as the sea. Although the distance wasn’t quite clear, a thin line that broke off from the white road went on to run along the cliffs at one point, while at the end of it lines of rooftops of some sort of community could be seen. The roofs themselves were all bleak shades quite at odds with the colorful name of Florence.

Though the heater was on in the truck’s cab, the priest pulled his collar tight and shivered nonetheless. Su-In had just opened the door and climbed out of the cab.

Looking up at D on his mount, she said, “We’re there at last!”

There was no reply.

Long hair billowing out in the chill air that swept in from the sea, the figure of beauty silently gazed at the village that lay ahead. If his eyes could read the whole tale that was about to begin, Su-In thought, the results must be incredibly tragic, and that was enough to leave her frozen in a daze.

The sky, the sea, the wind, and even the young man himself all looked terribly sad.

“Say,” the woman began, finally able to speak when the figure on horseback pulled his reins tight, “now that we’ve come this far, I suppose it should be fair to ask you something. Where are you going in Florence?”

“The home of a girl named Wu-Lin.”

Su-In’s eyes went wide. “You know her last name?” she asked.

“No.”

“What are you going to her house for?”

D turned to Su-In. Not because the intensity of her tone almost made it sound like an interrogation, but because of the way she’d said “her.”

“Is she an acquaintance of yours?” he asked.

Never averting her eyes from the young man’s bottomless gaze, Su-In said, “Now, this might seem like a terrible thing to say, but that’s one name I never wanted to hear from you. Wu-Lin is my little sister.”

Gazing at the woman’s face for a while, D proffered his left hand in Su-In’s direction. It was balled in a fist. He then opened it.

Su-In stared down at the mysterious bead that appeared in the palm of his hand, utterly stunned. “I could see if some other guy had it—but why you?” Su-In asked, tears spilling from her eyes. “My little sister—is she dead, then?”

“Yes,” D said, his tone soft but clear. It was as if he were some beautiful messenger for the afterlife. “Her last words were a request that I bring this back to her home. You should take it.”

Su-In didn’t put her hand out. “So you came all this way to deliver that? Someone like you? I find that really hard to believe. I can’t take that from you.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I did, you’d turn around right here and be on your way. That’s the kind of person you are. Please, just come back to the house with me and tell us about Wu-Lin. You see, I’m actually the one who let her go off to Cronenberg.”

The tiniest bit of emotion stirred in D’s eyes. Closing his five fingers once more, D pulled the fist back and grabbed his reins. But the bead didn’t fall from his hand. It’d suddenly vanished from his palm.

“Thank you,” said Su-In.

As soon as the words had left the woman’s mouth, someone behind her said, “No, it’s I who should be thanking both of you.”

It was the traveling priest, who’d apparently gotten out of the truck at some point. His head was bowed.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he continued. “I’ve neglected to introduce myself, haven’t I? I’m known as Ban’gyoh, which means ‘the savage dawn.’ I’m also the founder of the Church of the Third Coming. Though to be honest, I should add that it’s a new faith with no adherents aside from myself. No money, no followers, and no home at present. All I have is a faith in my beliefs as I travel the wide world, promulgating this new religion. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”

And saying that, he promptly turned and started back toward the truck. But on the way, he stopped and looked over his shoulder to say, “And you, sir—though you may appear less than amiable, you must in fact be truly admirable to have come so far to deliver a keepsake. It may well be that you have the blood of God in you. I’m certain someday soon you’ll be showered with blessings.”

And with that, he went back to the passenger seat of the cab and shut the door.

“That sure is one wacky priest,” a hoarse voice declared.

“Huh?” Su-In exclaimed as she looked at D, but naturally she didn’t see anyone else there but him.

In no time, the rider and the truck were tearing through the cold wind as they raced on down the white road. The five villains might already be in the village, and the vengeance-seeking warrior Glen was bound to be following the Hunter. And there was no saying if Professor Krolock and the mysterious thief named Toto were still in the game. But what else awaited D here in the northern extreme and the village of Florence?

VILLAGE AT THE ENDS OF THE EARTH