CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8

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I

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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 leaving 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.

“I am not the one who should be tasting your steel. You are. Take your sword and jab it into your throat,” said the professor as he held a roll of parchment open in front of his chest. The portrait of Glen he’d drawn in his own blood was so detailed, it looked as if someone could feel the heat of the swordsman’s skin or his very breathing just by touching the picture.

Fear lanced through Samon. “Stop, Glen! You mustn’t listen to what he says!”

But as Samon shouted, she saw Glen’s sword move from where he had it poised at eye level, slowly but steadily approaching his throat. Glen’s cheek twitched. Deep within him, a fierce psychic struggle was taking place.

The tip of the blade reached his throat. Then sank into his flesh.

Glen’s lips puckered. Would his deadly whistle be able to outdo the devilish whisper?

“Glen?!” Samon cried.

At the same time, a melody of unearthly beauty streamed from Glen’s lips—a melody, and then blood. The blade pierced the base of his throat in the front, and all but jutted out from the back of his neck. Crimson foam splattered against the floor, sending up a tiny spray.

Pursing his lips once more, Glen struggled to whistle. Out it came. But it was only a prolonged breath and a stream of blood.

“A neck wound won’t kill you, will it?” the professor said, smiling as if he’d just remembered that. There was no trace of the contemplative scholar in him now. “Stab yourself in the chest,” he said.

“Stop it!” Samon’s body became a bolt of lighting as she shot toward the professor.

The professor’s neck split open—and quickly closed again.

A second later, the blade Glen had pulled from his own throat sank deep into its owner’s heart like a pin being driven through an insect. As his knees buckled, one last sound sprang from his lips.

“D . . .”

For a brief instant, the swordsman’s eyes were flooded with a tragic persistence, but it was quickly replaced by nothingness.

Silence descended. And it was not that of death alone. It was formed from the soundless grief of one woman.

Before long, Samon said flatly, “This can’t be right! It can’t be!”

“You’ve seen for yourself,” the professor said as he pulled out another piece of vellum. “It only stands to reason, given the mere fraction of a Noble’s power someone in your position receives. I won’t kill you. A woman’s blood burns when she despises you, and that hot blood is something this new Noble looks forward to tasting. You should consider yourself honored.”

And then he began to whisper to a new piece of vellum—one that was etched with Samon’s face.

“Come. Into my arms.”

Though the woman was crazed with hatred and fear, those emotions drained swiftly from her eyes. As if in a dream, the woman began to walk toward the professor. Not only had he ensnared Glen, but now he had Samon as well. Just what sort of transformation had the professor been through?

It was at precisely that moment that the professor’s eyes made a rapid movement. He gnashed his pointed teeth with an ineffable malice and resentment. With that almost metallic sound, he spat, “An interloper at this of all times?”

And then the professor shoved Samon aside and headed to the door with powerful strides.

He went outside. A cyborg horse that’d been racing like the wind stopped right in front of him, and a figure in black got off it without a sound. His eyes were like the glittering darkness made solid as they coldly reflected the new Nobility.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” the professor said as his right hand slipped into the breast of his clothes. “How did you manage to follow me?”

“Is Su-In inside?” was the first thing D asked. His soft tone suited the night perfectly, but there must’ve been something else in it that forced the professor to respond.

“Yes, she’s here.” And saying that, the professor smiled with complete confidence. “However, you won’t be going inside. You must die right here. Die just as the other man did.”

D watched silently as the man unrolled the vellum he’d pulled out. The Hunter’s right hand went to his sword hilt with lightning speed, there was another flash, and the weapon fell in a perfectly straight line from the tip of the professor’s unprotected head down to his crotch. Anyone who knew of D’s skill with a blade could well imagine the professor dropping to either side like a split log while viscera flew everywhere.

The professor grinned. An inky black line remained in the same spot where the silvery flash had passed. He then ran one hand along it—no slice remained in his cloak, nor was there any scar on his skin. He lapped noisily at the blood that clung to the palm of his hand.

“How do you wish to die?” Professor Krolock asked through blood-stained lips. “Shall I have you do what the last man did and stab yourself in the throat before gouging yourself through the heart? No, I must see to it yours is a much more painful death, as punishment for interfering with my feeding. Now, take that sword and put it to your neck. You’re going to slowly saw into it. You’re not to stop even when you hit bone. Keep going until you’ve cut your own head off completely.”

Even before the professor underwent this eerie transformation in Meinster’s subterranean lab, his power had made Samon his plaything, and after the change he’d gone on to slay Glen. He gazed raptly at the bizarre canvas. A portrait of D the artist had drawn in his own blood lay there in all its glory.

“Exquisite,” said Professor Krolock. “What a lovely countenance. That’s why I had to labor underground until this morning to finish drawing you. I put my heart and soul into this masterpiece, and now there’s no escape for you. Cut away. Once you’ve finished taking your head off, I’ll preserve it in salt and keep it with me for all eternity.”

D’s sword went into action. The Hunter brought it to the nape of his own neck, exactly as the professor had instructed.

As the professor watched the silvery line move across the pale, nigh-translucent skin, his whole body trembled. Something red welled up at the point of contact. At the scent of fresh blood in the air on a summer night, Professor Krolock closed his eyes in rapture.

And that was why he missed something crucial. He didn’t see the crimson flames burning in D’s eyes.

Even when the cold steel pierced his heart, the professor didn’t so much as scream.

Opening his eyes, he said, “How did you escape my power?”

The thin piece of animal hide dropped from his hand.

“It was a crappy picture,” a hoarse voice said with a scornful laugh. “The rougher the picture, the weaker the effect of your power. There’s no way you’d snag him with the likes of that.”

“Is that so? I guess you were just too beautiful after all,” the professor muttered pensively before taking a step back. The blade came out of him.

D didn’t give chase.

“Shall we try this again some other time?” Professor Krolock said as he slowly retreated.

“You have no tomorrow,” said D.

Watching the Hunter quietly sheathe his sword, the professor laughed scornfully. The wound on his chest had vanished without a trace. But a second later, a hellish agony seared through his heart. From the center of his chest—the same spot where the wound had vanished—black blood gushed from him and rained down noisily on the earth.

“Impossible!” the professor said as he gazed at D in utter disbelief. He realized something for the first time—the young man before him was an entirely different form of life from himself. “This . . . this just can’t be,” he stammered. “I used the Nobles’ secret . . . to make a new race . . .”

“You failed,” the voice said. “There’s only ever been one success.”

As the professor fell forward, D swung his blade at the man’s neck. The wizened head that flew into the air had a horribly wrinkled face. When it thudded back to earth, D then opened the door to the dilapidated house.

The first thing to greet the Hunter’s eyes was Glen’s corpse, which lay on the floor. But that’s all there was. There wasn’t a single person left in the room.

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II

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D went into one of the back chambers. The window on the far wall was open—that must’ve been how they’d fled. There was no sign of anyone still being there.

The Hunter went back to the front entrance.

A figure stood by the Hunter’s horse. He wore a brown shirt with blue stripes, and where the garment was open, bandages were visible on his chest. Regardless of the fact he said his heart was on the right side, he’d still punctured the lung on the opposite side, and it was incredible he’d been able to escape from the hospital.

“By the look on your face, I take it things didn’t go well,” Toto wheezed. “And after I nearly killed myself getting that info to you.”

When D had returned to the surface from the subterranean region below Meinster’s castle, it was the thief who’d informed him of the strange happening out at this shanty. Although his meeting with D had been a coincidence, his discovery of Samon and Su-In’s location had been quite intentional.

During his confrontation with Egbert on the cape, D had asked, “Aren’t you going to send in the other two?” One of the people to whom he was referring was Twin, while the other was Toto. Twin had trailed Egbert, while Toto had escaped from the hospital to follow along after D when he was called up to the cape. When the massive quake ensued and D was swallowed by the waves, the thief had then followed after Samon and the others. The temptress thus had two pursuers on her tail—Twin and Toto. While it was understandable that Samon might miss him, the reason even Twin didn’t notice Toto was because, even gravely wounded, he was still the greatest burglar in the northern Frontier.

Toto’s sole aim was still the bead. Although Professor Krolock had made off with it, he had a feeling that if he followed Samon and company, they were bound to come into contact with the professor sooner or later. In a manner of speaking, his hunch had proved correct. While keeping watch over the vampire pair in the ruined house, Toto was horribly surprised when he learned that the professor had come.

The tragedy that followed was like something out of a nightmare. Deciding that this was far more than he could handle, Toto could think of only one person with the skill to undertake the task, and he went back to the cape in search of D. And there, he’d met the Hunter. Giving D his own horse, Toto had continued on foot, arriving at the dilapidated house just now.

“Is Su-In okay?”

“Are you worried about her?” asked D.

“Well, sort of,” Toto replied nonchalantly.

“There’s no bead anymore. Time for you to exit the stage.”

“Do you expect me to just go, ‘Anything you say, sir!’?”

“Do as you like,” D said as he straddled his horse. With the darkness for a backdrop, his face alone seemed to glow.

“That’s my horse!” Toto exclaimed.

“It’s the hospital’s horse.”

“And you’d just leave an injured man stranded?”

“Su-In’s in mortal danger,” D replied.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“And the night’s just begun,” said Toto. “Tell me something—if the bead’s gone, why is everyone still so worked up about it?”

“I suppose they think they might get back whatever it is they lost.”

“In that case, folks would be better off not having anything they could lose in the first place. Well,” the thief added, “I suppose that wouldn’t work either. Humans sure are dumb, aren’t they?”

“The same is probably true of the Nobility.”

“They’re not dumb, but they are monsters. Which do you suppose would be worse?”

D said nothing, but wheeled his horse around.

He came to the road that led back to the village, then raised his left hand and said, “Not too long has passed yet.”

The wind groaned across the palm of D’s left hand. But anyone who felt it on their skin certainly would’ve bugged their eyes in surprise. A ferocious gale of over a hundred miles per hour was being sucked into a tiny yet unmistakably human mouth that’d opened in the palm of the Hunter’s hand.

“Well?” asked D.

“I’m barely getting something. I don’t know what they’re doing, but somehow they’re keeping the blood scent to a bare minimum. Another minute and it’d be so faint even I couldn’t catch it. Go straight down this road. But . . .”

“But what?” asked the Hunter.

“I’m sure you’ve already noticed. The air is strangely cold. Looks like it’s going to be a hell of a summer.”

D gave a kick to his horse’s flanks.

After galloping along for about a minute, a horizontal ribbon of silver could be seen ahead and the sound of water was audible. A river. A little bridge of logs and packed earth spanned it. On it stood a figure bathed in moonlight. It was Twin. Surely he was there to buy time for Samon to escape.

Rather than pull back on the reins, D charged forward.

Twin didn’t move.

As he galloped by the stock-still man on the right side, D swung his sword at him. Twin made no move to protect himself. Most likely, he’d never had any intention of doing so. The young villain’s head sailed into the air.

But at just that instant, the Hunter’s mount came to a sudden stop—or rather, it got stuck. The horse found itself in the most unnatural of poses, as if all four of its legs had suddenly sunk into deep holes.

Not surprisingly, D couldn’t help but go tumbling forward. Flying off at a speed and angle that would’ve undoubtedly been bone-shattering for an ordinary person, D would be able to give an easy twist and land gracefully. But he didn’t. He hit the ground shoulder-first, sending a dull rumble into the air. Still, he quickly tried to get up again, but then staggered in a strange manner.

A semitransparent gelatinous substance clung to D’s arms and legs. Although D realized that it had gushed from Twin’s gaping neck wound, he couldn’t be sure exactly what it was. Like the substance Twin had produced before, it was supple as jelly when it gushed from him, but mere seconds later it congealed with the strength of steel. This same substance that restrained D’s muscles had been spread across the road to snare the legs of the cyborg horse, had sealed the windows and doors at Su-In’s house, and had clung to the Hunter’s blade during his first duel with Glen. What’s more, it’d become obvious that the substance became hard as steel or a sticky slime in accordance with its master’s will. The unyielding nature of the substance was made clear by the portion that’d spilled into the river—it’d formed a solid sheet that blocked the flow of the water.

“This stuff is a pain—give me a second,” the voice said.

All five fingers were open on D’s left hand. As the Hunter moved it along his leg from the knee to the thigh, the hardened substance began giving off a whitish smoke and dissolving.

It was two minutes later that D got to his feet.

“This jelly stuff looks disgusting, but it’s pretty tasty. Wonder if I should keep some aside in my belly for later? Anyhow, that was a tough break.”

Not reacting to the voice that sounded both blasé and disappointed at the same time, D turned around.

In the middle of the road sat Twin’s severed head. The thoroughly corpse-like lips moved, and he said, “I have Su-In.” The sound of his voice was enough to make anyone want to plug their ears. “But don’t worry,” the head continued. “In accordance with Glen’s wishes, I won’t do a thing to her. Tomorrow evening, come to the beach in front of Su-In’s house at 11:00 Night. But if you try to find us before then or if you fail to show up, I’ll feed the woman to the fish.”

Once Twin had finished speaking, his features twisted into an unsettling death smile and his head fell over.

“It’s that woman, isn’t it?” the left hand said in an appreciative tone. “We’ve got no choice but to wait another day. That’s our deadline for destroying the Noble, right?”

D was gazing in the direction of the village.

The distant melody played on eternally. Young men and women danced, trampling the shadows they cast by the moonlight. Tin goblets clanked together in toasts, and fireworks exploded in all the colors of the rainbow. Summer would never end.

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Before the night gave way to dawn, people noticed that something had changed. The wind was cold. Unlike the bitter sting of winter, it felt like a gentle summer breeze on their skin. Anyone who wasn’t from the village probably would’ve said it was too cool. But it was cold—and not merely in regard to the sense of touch.

When the very first gust raced through the woods and village, the people stopped in their tracks, dazed—as if something breathing deep within them had suddenly stopped. On realizing that their blissful days were a mere dream, the adults were sadder than the children, but they also recovered more quickly than the little ones. Before long, people started walking around and talking again, or stepping in time to the music. Though the wind remained just as cold, they acted as if it couldn’t touch them.

That night, there were more victims. A young man who’d been standing watch on the beach and his girlfriend. Guard duty was done in groups of five. If they spotted a Noble, they were supposed to blow the whistle they carried. The young man had vanished behind the nearby rocks with his girlfriend when she brought him a snack. It was just before daybreak that the two of them were found with bloody blossoms left on the napes of their pallid necks.

A messenger from the mayor was dispatched to Su-In’s house in total secrecy.

D had returned. After hearing news of the victims, he’d first sped to the scene of the crime with the messenger, and after looking into the situation, he’d then called on the mayor.

“May I remind you, you only have until tomorrow to destroy the Noble,” the mayor said as a wind that carried the same message gusted from his gloomy eyes.

“I know,” was all D said.

“Is Su-In doing all right?”

“Are you worried about her?”

“I’ve known her since she was a toddler,” the mayor replied.

“Four years ago, a warrior came to stay at her house. You remember that, don’t you?”

The mayor grabbed the back of a chair and used it to support his own weight. “So, Su-In’s figured it out, has she?” he said in a voice choked with heartbreak as he stared at D.

Why he decided then it was okay to tell the Hunter the rest was anybody’s guess.

“Well, he did stay at their house,” the mayor explained, “but only for two days. The man in question was someone we’d called in to organize us so we could prevent attacks by bands of pirates. Since the inn was being remodeled at the time, he wound up staying at Su-In’s place. But we moved him to my house right away. That’s why I figure none of her neighbors would’ve told you about him.”

What had happened during those two days?

It was in the woods one night that the forms of Su-In and the young warrior had caught the eye of the museum curator. By the light of the moon, the young man’s naked muscularity and the woman’s supple form had moved together in a fevered frenzy. After being informed of this incident by the curator, Su-In’s grandfather and the mayor had decided to turn a blind eye to it. The young warrior was most likely capricious, the time the village had to receive his tutelage was short, and there was no substitute available. And if he’d become attached to Su-In, that was essentially the same as his forming a bond with the village. With the couple’s quietly blooming romance remaining a secret, the warrior provided the necessary instruction to the villagers and the day of his departure arrived without incident. The last day of summer.

That evening, the mayor received a visit from Su-In and her grandfather in the utmost secrecy. Su-In couldn’t stop crying.

“You see,” the mayor continued, “the warrior had suggested to her that they steal the money from the town offices and run off together. But with her grandfather and sister dependent on her, there was no way Su-In would ever agree to such a thing. Still, the warrior wasn’t about to give up. He threatened to let the whole village know what’d been going on between the two of them. Sadly, our village isn’t the sort of place that’d be very forgiving of that kind of behavior from a woman. Not only would Su-In no longer be able to live here, but her grandfather and sister probably would’ve been finished as well. If she wouldn’t leave her family behind, the man said he’d name her as his accomplice in the theft of the village funds. And so—”

Su-In had stabbed the man. Up on Cape Nobility.

As for what happened next, D already knew. Whether her grandfather’s ability had proved fortunate or not for Su-In was the real question. Perhaps when she’d invited D to stay at her house where she was now a woman living alone, it was her way of subconsciously resisting the spell her grandfather had used to make her forget that tragedy.

“Tell me something,” the mayor said, his gaze clinging desperately to D. “The Noble that comes from the sea—we’ve been calling him Baron Meinster all this time, but is that really who he is? Did someone who vanished a thousand years ago suddenly rise again from the sea three years ago? If I were to tell you Su-In’s grandfather and I didn’t have our suspicions, I’d be lying. He’s that guy, isn’t he?”

D turned to the mayor. There was a window behind the old man. The black sea was visible. And that was where it had all started.

During the legendary battle, Meinster had been sent to the bottom of the sea, coffin and all. Or rather, Meinster had escaped, but a final attack by the baron’s foe ruptured his coffin. Nevertheless, it seemed that he’d survived. It seemed wholly unrealistic to believe Meinster wouldn’t have taken advantage of the knowledge he’d gained from the numerous examples of human/monster fusion that remained beneath his castle. And for an interminable time, the baron remained in that place, oh so deep and dark and cold.

What happened later was a happy coincidence that bordered on the impossible. The corpse of a man who’d been stabbed drifted down to the bottom of the abyss, where it made contact with the psyche of the sleeping fiend. Unfeasible. But this flesh housed two minds—controlled by both the Noble and the human, it would subject itself to the command of each at different times. However, when that fateful season came, it was bound to follow the heart of the unnamed warrior alone. Impossible. Yet in light of the facts, there was no point in denying it.

In D’s ears, the roar of the sea may have sounded like the scream of the young man who’d vanished there. Softly he said, “Tomorrow it should all come to an end. And there’s no bead to worry about anymore. Don’t say anything; just accept Su-In back.”

“We’ll hold up our end, I’m sure,” said the mayor. “She’s a good girl. Everybody likes her. But I suppose we should keep what I told you a secret from Dwight, eh?”

“Do whatever you like,” the Hunter replied.

As D headed for the door aloofly, the mayor called out to him in an exhausted tone, “This summer’s almost over. At least, that’s what it feels like. Don’t you think so?”

D went outside without ever answering him.

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III

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That day, those who walked along the beach found their eyes riveted to the figure in black who stood by the shore. His longcoat called to mind the darkness of night as its hem billowed in the salty breeze. People’s hearts raced at the beauty of him standing there with his back to them, framed by the white sand and the blue of the sea. And yet, they couldn’t bring themselves to stop, but rather walked away as quickly as they could. But oddly enough, when they would turn again after having gone a little further, the figure dressed in the hue of darkness would be nowhere to be seen. Adults would rub their eyes as if they’d just wakened from a dream, while children would instantly decide that someday they’d grow up to look just as tough, sad, and beautiful so they could stare out at the sea.

The festival continued. The villagers remained as boisterous as ever, yet a strange resignation seemed to hang in the air. Four more days to go, the people said. Summer wouldn’t end before then. But they had to wonder why the boats loaded with fireworks had headed out toward the ice floes. The fireworks had always been the crowning glory on the last night of summer.

Darkness fell. Another world was about to begin.

.

The faint buzz of an engine could be heard offshore. D’s face turned. Just how long had he been staring out at that one spot in the sea?

The moon shone high in the sky again this evening. By its light, D could distinctly see Samon and Su-In in the small boat that was approaching. Forty or fifty feet from shore, the boat pulled parallel to the land and the growl of the engine died out.

Leaning out of the steering room back by the stern, Samon cupped one hand by her mouth and shouted, “Glad you could make it, Hunter. Su-In’s right here. As promised, she’s come to no harm.”

Mixing with the sound of the waves, her voice rolled high and low by turns. Back on the rocking vessel, Samon quickly moved over to Su-In’s location at the stern and brought her right hand to the woman’s neck.

“However,” the sorceress continued, “that promise was made to you by a man called Glen. And it was to last until the woman had been returned to you. I’m giving her back, here and now. Therefore, said promise is now null and void.”

There was a metallic glint in Samon’s right hand, and as soon as it became visible, fresh blood spouted from Su-In’s neck. Even then, the woman still didn’t notice. Her stuporous expression was as blank as that of a doll.

“Here, I’m giving her back to you. Come and get her, my two foes!” said Samon. “If you die, Hunter, Glen can rest in peace. And if the Noble is destroyed, this woman will never be herself again. I want you all to feel pain,” she laughed. “If my man’s no longer in this world, I’d just as soon destroy it all!”

And then, giving off a booming laugh that drowned out even the roar of the ocean, Samon pulled Su-In upright and hurled her headlong into the sea.

It was a heartbeat later that flashes of white light became needles that pierced the sorceress through the chest and the base of the neck. Knocked across the boat by the impact, Samon’s body slammed against the opposite gunwale, bent backward, and followed right after Su-In in a spray of bloody droplets.

D had already thrown himself into the sea. Knifing through the water in a way that was unbelievable for a dhampir, he then pressed his hand against the neck of the bobbing Su-In. The sea around her looked flooded with black paint. When the Hunter pressed his left hand to the wound, the blood ceased to pour from her.

D was just about to swim back to shore with her, but at that instant he twisted his torso and looked directly off to his right. A head had bobbed to the surface about ten feet away. And it wore the Noble’s face. Or rather, it wore a fearsome face where the young warrior Su-In had killed was intermingled with the psyche of Baron Meinster.

Slowly, D began moving toward shore. The Noble was following along right behind him at exactly the same speed.

A wave swept over the Hunter’s shoulder, and then tugged at his waist. The two of them stopped right where they were. Su-In’s weight was being supported by her buoyancy in the water, and if D went any further, there was a danger of her being choked by the hand he had pressed against her throat. On the other hand, if he took his hand away, Su-In would surely bleed to death. He couldn’t possibly have been in a worse position. Particularly against a Noble who’d lived on the sea floor, and who’d be faster and stronger than D here.

“I’ll take the girl,” said the Noble in a voice that seemed to bubble up from the very bottom of the sea. It wasn’t the voice of Meinster, nor was it that of the warrior.

“Do you remember her? Do you know this girl?” D asked softly. His words came in time with the sound of the waves.

“I don’t know,” said the Noble, shaking his head. “I just don’t know. Who is she? Why do I come back here every summer looking for her?”

“You don’t need to know,” D said in a tone every bit as callous as the moonlight. “Simply accept your fate.”

A split second later, three silvery flashes knifed through the top of the approaching waves. In an impossible spray of sparks, the wooden needles were struck down right before the Noble. It almost seemed as if that made a beautiful sound, too.

D saw that the Noble gripped a steel short spear in his right hand. When used properly, it could stretch yards longer and totally dominate the space between two combatants. But the weapon suddenly vanished, and the surface of the water churned. The sea eddied like a whirlpool because the spear had been spun at a ferocious speed beneath the surface.

Still holding onto Su-In, D leapt into the air and brought his blade down in the center of the vortex. The next spray that went up was from D and Su-In landing again. Only the sound of the waves circled around D. Focusing every nerve, he looked out at the expanse of waves where black and silver danced together.

The waves said, “Is that the fastest and the furthest you can leap? You’ll never reach me here.”

As D twisted to face that direction, a pair of pale serpents whined toward his torso. Silvery light flashed out to slice one of them apart, while the other pierced the left side of the Hunter’s chest clean through to his back, where it became a bloody jet of water that dropped back into the sea.

“Water spears,” said a voice that came from the same direction as the serpents. The water rose with those words, and was then instantly replaced by the Noble. “While you are a man to be feared, I have the edge on you in the water,” he said. “And though I don’t know why, I’ll take the girl.”

Once more, the sea churned in front of the Noble. The water then surged forward. Twisting like pale serpents, three blasts of water the Noble had rendered hard as steel ripped through the waves. D cut down one of the three, but the others were true to their aim and pierced his abdomen. Tough as D was, he couldn’t take much more of that punishment.

Never letting go of Su-In, the figure in black sank into the water up to his chest. Something inky drifted out around him like a cloud. Yet D gazed straight ahead—his foe was fifteen feet away. If he were to make a leap carrying Su-In, certain death would await him.

“Farewell, Hunter. There will not be another summer,” the Noble said, throwing back his right shoulder.

As the moonlight poured down on D and the sea roared around him, the black hands of Death prepared to close in on the Hunter.

But it was at that very instant that another voice was heard.

“Don’t, my darling!”

The question was, did D realize that the cry came from Su-In, who only regained consciousness for a brief instant?

Like a gorgeous mystic bird, D sailed through the air. Su-In wasn’t with him.

The fifteen feet separating the men ceased to have any meaning, and as the tip of the Noble’s spear stretched up into the air, it was knocked aside all too quickly. With the force of D’s full weight added to his unholy skill, the silvery blade came straight down on the Noble’s head and split it in half. But it didn’t end with his head—he was effortlessly sliced in two right down to the crotch. The naked blade glittered again, taking off the Noble’s head and penetrating his heart before the figure in the blue cape slowly fell over like some colossal tree split by lightning, then sank into the sea.

Watching as the deep blue shape was carried out to sea by the waves, D then went back over to Su-In. Her eyes were closed. As for the wound on her neck—it was covered by a lump of semitransparent slime, and it didn’t appear to be losing blood. At the last second, D’s left hand had spit up some of Twin’s mucus.

“Carry her back while she’s still asleep,” the voice from his left hand said in a consoling tone. “You think he heard what she said?”

D didn’t answer. But apparently his left hand had heard it, too. The second D’s blade caught him, the Noble had said, “Su-In.” And he’d worn a youthful and sad face they hadn’t seen before. Yet he’d left with the waves. The Noble was dead, and D had kept his promise.

“The vision we saw in the tunnel—I think maybe it was called up by a combination of memories of a girl he didn’t know anymore and a reaction to the Noble blood that flows in your veins,” said the left hand. “He didn’t forget her completely. In the end, it looks like he was human after all. So, which are you, then?”

The Hunter’s five fingers curled.

Just then, the night sky lit up. The heavens shone like melted black crystal, but gigantic blossoms then opened, with the roar of their explosions only coming later.

D glanced down at the ground by his feet. There was one heavy shadow, and a lighter shadow carrying it on its back.

The fireworks boomed again. Between those thunderclaps, there was a sad, cold sound. The racing wind.

“Has their weather controller finally given up the ghost?” the voice said listlessly. “Looks like that’s the end of summer for this year. And I don’t know whether they’ll be having another one or not.”

No one answered.

The night sky was still being lit up. In the distance, the music played on eternally. Summer hadn’t ended yet.

.

Her gaze focused on nothing in particular, Su-In watched the bits of white fly by on the other side of the glass. The snow that’d started falling that morning was growing heavier and heavier—it would probably only take a few hours more for the entire village to be blanketed in the same silvery white.

Three days had passed since their shorter than usual summer had ended. The performers had already gone. Power boats were zipping to and fro out on the sea. As the villagers busily set to their winter preparations, their shoes trampled the wilted and faded remains of the summer’s flowers.

No one had changed at all. The village and its inhabitants had long existed by the blustery North Sea, with its snow and ice.

Bracing both arms against the lectern, Su-In looked out at the classroom where not even a single child sat. With a bandage still wrapped around her neck, she was a pitiful sight. She seemed devoid of any deeper emotion. Even when she looked at the face of Dwight, who stood over by the windows to the right, all her blanched consciousness could do was dig his name out of her memory.

Su-In’s future was now blocked by her past.

I killed a man who meant something to me, she thought. A man I loved for a summer.

The shock had been so great Su-In had even forgotten how to cry, and the woman felt like there was a big gray opening where her heart should’ve been.

What am I even doing here? No one’s gonna come. Everyone knows I’m a murderer. There’s nothing left for me now.

The haggard look on the face of the dazed woman only served to make shadows of anger and anxiety flicker by turns in Dwight’s heart. Who the hell was responsible for this? Who said I should bring Su-In here? he asked himself. She’s been thrown back into her miserable past all alone, and this is only hurting her more. What a lousy thing to do. I’m gonna find him and beat the hell out of him!

“Su-In,” he said despite himself. “Su-In, let’s go already. No matter how long we stay here—”

A crisp, clear sound made Dwight stop.

There it was again. A sound that a traveler lost on a winter’s night could hear six miles away; it could make him get back up with hope in his eyes and spring in his legs again. The school bell.

Glancing up at the ceiling, Su-In then looked at the fisherman as if seeking his aid. Dwight backed away. In all his life, he’d never been more sure of what he should do. Going back over to his previous spot at the window, he said in a soft but powerful tone, “Over there.”

Su-In stared straight ahead. Dwight looked, too. At the door.

At some point, the bell had stopped tolling.

Neither the man nor the woman moved.

Little footsteps. And they were drawing closer.

The door opened quietly. A tiny face peered in. Eyes that were big and round glittered with anxiety and expectation. But finding Su-In there, one of those emotions faded from them.

It was the same boy who’d asked D for the flute. Snow was piled on top of his hood, and in his hands he held a little package. Moving up between the rows of desks with a bashful smile, he took a seat at the very front of the class. After all, school was about to begin. And this was obviously a seat of honor.

The boy put the package down on his desk and opened it. Wrapped in the rough fabric were a textbook, a notebook, and a few writing implements. His father had told him he wasn’t to go anywhere near Su-In. But why would he say that? After all, school was starting today. Wasn’t the tolling of the bell proof enough of that?

More footsteps became audible. This time there were many of them.

The door creaked open, and a number of faces appeared. Hope and relief spreading through their eyes, they faced a future that was small but also incredibly vast at the same time.

The boy at the head of the class turned around and puffed his chest with pride. Look at me, he seemed to say. I was the first one here!

Su-In shut her eyes tightly. And though she was sure she had them closed, something hot began to seep from them. Wiping it away with her hand, she turned to Dwight and nodded.

Just watch me.

Taking a deep breath, Su-In turned to the rosy faces crowding the doorway and said in a gentle and dignified tone, “Please come in. The lesson’s about to begin.”

.

Quietly slipping out of the classroom a few minutes later and proceeding to the bell tower, Dwight furrowed his brow when he saw the face of the person who stood beneath the bell rope.

“Pleasure to meet you,” the man said with an affable expression before bowing. “Toto is the name. I met a Ms. Wu-Lin in the town of Cronenberg. She asked me to come help with the classes at your school. Naturally, I have experience as a teacher, as well as working in a number of other fields. Ah, yes—here’s my letter of introduction.”

Re-folding a letter that certainly looked like Wu-Lin’s handwriting and returning it to the man, Dwight clapped him on the shoulder. “Great!” he exclaimed. “You’re just what we needed. But are you sure I haven’t seen you somewhere before?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the scowling Toto said as he shook his head.

“It’s this way.”

As they walked side by side down the hall, Toto suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked out the window.

“What is it?” asked Dwight.

“It’s nothing. I just heard a horse whinny.”

“A horse?”

“Yeah. Probably belongs to the same young fellow who told me to ring the bell.”

Dwight followed Toto’s gaze, but there was no one moving out in the world of white.

“What’d this young fellow look like?” asked the fisherman.

“He was all dressed in black, and so good-looking it’d give a corpse the chills. I was hanging around out by the gate wondering how to go about getting someone’s attention when I happened to run into him. Oh, that’s right—as he was leaving, he took a peek in through that window there. A little while after the children went in, he left without a word. Wearing a smile.”

“A smile?”

“Yes, I do believe that’s what it was,” Toto replied with confidence. “I don’t suppose I’ll ever see a smile that fine again. I have to wonder who put it on his face. I envy them, you know. You could take pride in that for the rest of your days.”

Dwight was silent for a bit, and then he said, “You don’t say? So he ended leaving after all, just like I figured. All alone.”

“Absolutely.”

Catching in that brief reply an even deeper sentiment than his own, Dwight stared at the new instructor for a moment. But he quickly dismissed those thoughts and said, “On the other side of that door is the classroom. You head on in. I suddenly remembered something I need to take care of. I’ve gotta go thank someone,” he said.

.

Just a few minutes shy of hitting the Nobles’ road, D halted his horse on the crest of a hill.

Beyond the veil of lightly falling snow stood a figure in blue mixed with red. Still some fifteen feet away, it was Samon. Though D’s wooden needle had pierced her through a vital point, something had kept this woman alive. But her face had already taken the color of a corpse, and the bloody blossom that’d flowered on her chest was mysteriously damp. For three days, the woman had survived while the blood continued to seep from her body.

“We meet again at last,” she said in a ghostly tone as D got off his horse. “Only you and the girl remain now,” said Samon, her whole body trembling. “You’ll get yours first. Then I’ll head back into the village and dispose of the girl. You should thank me. It’s only right that you be with the one you love when you die. Show yourself!”

As she said that, something white that wasn’t snow began to crystallize before D’s eyes. This was the spell of “Samon of Remembrances”—nostalgia. If a person’s lost love requested his or her death, that person would have no choice but to comply while under the seductress’ spell.

But who would D summon?

Black hair swayed modestly. Gently turning her long, narrow eyes to the ground, a matronly woman in a white dress stood before D. Samon’s lips moved. As did those of the woman.

But how did the seductress’ voice sound to D?

“Die, D.”

Samon raised her right hand to her own throat. In it, she held a dagger.

To D, it should’ve appeared that the mature woman was indeed performing the action.

The Hunter’s hand drew the sword from his back.

“Die. Just like that,” she said. Taking care not to let the blade touch her throat, Samon made a powerful jerk from one side to the other.

D’s sword moved as well. Vertically.

Slicing the image of the graceful matron in half, the blade then spun around and stabbed deep into the heart of the sorceress Samon.

“Impossible!” the staggering Samon moaned in amazement. “I can’t believe you’d do that . . . to your own . . .”

No bloody spray shot from the last of the warriors as she fell to the ground.

D’s exquisite skill somehow kept his blade clean of even a single drop of blood, and he’d returned the weapon to its sheath and was walking toward his horse when an unknown voice said, “She died with a peaceful look on her face. But only humans have remembrances,” it added. “Still, the way you cut that vision down without a second thought—boy, you sure are all business!”

D got back on his horse as if nothing had happened.

“You’re leaving their village covered with blood right to the very end, without anyone to even see you off. Hell, sometimes you even give me chills. Where are you headed next?” the left hand asked.

Of course, there was no reply.

After the Hunter’s mount had taken a few steps, a crisp sound came to D from the village.

“That’s the school bell, isn’t it?” the voice said.

D turned around.

The snow had stopped. A faint light shone on the village below him—winter sunlight slipping through a gap in the clouds.

Once more the bell sounded, as if bidding him farewell.

D faced forward again. Ash-gray clouds hung heavily over the road he’d be taking next. His cold gaze trained ever forward and his incredibly placid face devoid of all sadness and fear, the young man in black suddenly vanished over the top of a hill like some gorgeous mirage.