THE ROAD OF STAKES

CHAPTER 1

—

I

—

The road was just wide enough to allow two farm vehicles—which were relatively rare in these parts—to pass each other. Going east, it led to the village of Sacri, while to the west it hit the dusty highway.

Verdant waves flowed to either side of the road. Prairies and wind.

As the high stalks of grass bowed in succession, they seemed to be passing something along. The name of the distant rulers of this world. Their lost legends. Or perhaps—the tale of the current dictator whose manor stood on the outskirts of the village. And the situation in the trio of wagons racing madly out of town. And the reason the horse-lashing farmer and everyone in his family had fear burned into their tense faces.

“Halfway left to go!” cried the farmer working the reins on the lead wagon. “If we reach the highway, they won’t give chase, since that’s outside their domain. Hannah, what’s it look like back there?”

“The Tumaks’ and Jarays’ wagons are both doing well,” replied his wife, who’d leaned out from where she was riding shotgun. Drawing the little boy and girl she held closer with her plump arms, she added, “At this rate, we’ll be fine, dear.”

“It’s too early to say. We’ve still got half to go—this is where we brave the fires of hell. I don’t know if the horses will make it or not,” he said, the words coming out like a groan.

But any further comment was cut short by a shriek from the farmer’s wife.

Thirty feet ahead, a horse and rider draped in crimson bounded onto the road from the high grass on the left.

The farmer didn’t even manage to pull back on the reins.

In an attempt to avoid the horse and rider that seemed to be ablaze, the team of two steeds made a sudden turn to the right.

Packed with all of the family’s worldly possessions, the wagon couldn’t follow the animals around that sharp curve. The wooden tongue that connected the wagon to the team twisted, and the body of the wagon tilted as it did. The tongue snapped in midair, and the vehicle threw up a cloud of dust as it rolled.

Without so much as a glance back at the rumbling of the ground and the tableware that was being thrown everywhere, the horses kept galloping toward the promised land of freedom.

The Tumak and Jaray families narrowly avoided crashing their own wagons. Desperately whipping the hindquarters of the halted animals and tugging on the reins, they tried to turn back the way they’d come. It didn’t look like they would even try to help their friends who still lay on the road with their toppled wagon.

“It’s the Blue Knight!” Jaray’s son exclaimed, his cry of despair rising to the fair sky.

The road they needed to take home was now blocked by the blue horse and rider that stood about fifteen feet from them. However, the rider’s hue was not that of the pristine heavens, but rather the dark blue shade of the depths that led to the unsettling floor of the sea—the blue of freezing cold water.

With the sun still high in the sky, an air of deathly silence and immobility settled over the three families there on the stark white road.

“Where do you think you’re going?” said the one in front of them—the crimson rider on a horse of the same color. The people had called his compatriot a knight, and he, too, was sheathed in armor from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. His breastplate was wide, the pauldrons and vambraces were thick as a tree trunk, and he was so tall people would have to look up at him whether he was on horseback or not. If he were to ride out onto the battlefield on his similarly armored mount, he’d be such an imposing sight it was likely the very demons of hell would recoil in horror. On his back were two pairs of crossed longswords—four blades in all. Gleaming in the sunlight, the weapons looked so large and heavy that they’d leave even a giant of a man exhausted after a single swing.

“I believe we made it quite clear that it’s been decreed no one is to leave this domain,” said the Blue Knight. He was such a deep, dark shade of blue that he seemed to drain the heat from the rays of the midday sun and make the light drift away in vain like soap bubbles. “Not a single soul will be allowed to flee from the village where that little bastard wounded our princess,” he continued. “You should consider yourselves fortunate we didn’t slaughter the whole community out of hand. But then, there’s no need for any of you to concern yourselves with that business any longer. The stakes await you.”

A thin sound like a note from a broken flute split the air and a short, fat old woman clutched at her chest as she fell—Mr. Jaray’s elderly mother. The rest of the family consisted of Jaray and his wife, their nineteen-year-old son, a sixteen-year-old daughter, and another daughter aged twelve.

As for the Tumaks, there were six of them—the husband and wife, Mr. Tumak’s mother and father, and a five-year-old son and three-year-old daughter.

No one seemed to be paying any attention to the old woman, who’d suffered a heart attack out of sheer fright. Their eyes were trained instead on death as it stood barring the way before them and behind them in the form of knights of flame and water.

Their fate was inescapable.

The two armored knights turned to the sides of the road; turned toward the fifteen-foot stakes that were driven into either side of the road at roughly three-foot intervals. Oh, they ran on endlessly, too numerous to count, and on their sharpened tips shook the stark white bones of the impaled. Apparently the stakes were quite old, and less than one in ten still had skeletal remains hanging from it. And in most cases, those were just the spine and rib cage, while the arms, legs, pelvis, and skulls lay sadly at the base of the stake as part of a fairly large mound of bones.

However, while the families stood there as if their lives had already been lost, the corpses staked to either side of them were almost completely intact, their rags dancing in the wind and the eye sockets in their skulls aimed at the road like soul-swallowing caverns in the land of the dead. They cast a deep spell of silence.

The two knights closed the gap.

“Help!” someone shouted.

A flash of crimson cut off the cry.

The grass swayed in waves. It seemed to speak of shock and destiny.

Mr. Tumak’s aged father looked down at his chest. Blue steel ran right through him. Tumak’s wife looked down at hers as well. The bloodstained tip of a weapon stretched from it. The weapon that’d impaled the two people as they stood back to back had to be more than eight inches long, but it wasn’t the blade of a sword. It stretched more than three feet from the old man’s chest before coming to a guard that was twice as big around as a man’s fist. The hilt then sloped upward for another six feet before disappearing into a blue gauntlet, and it extended another three feet beyond the knight’s little finger.

Though the gigantic warrior was over six and a half feet tall, how could he wield a fifteen-foot lance with such skill? Both the weapon’s tip and its metallic hilt were etched with elaborate designs. Altogether, it must’ve weighed at least two hundred pounds, and probably more than four hundred.

The weapon bent supplely. The blue lance flexed upward, and the two victims were launched into the air like they were on springs and came right down on the stakes as if they’d been aimed. The old bones turned to powder and flew in all directions as the new victims were run through the heart.

“Although our princess instructed us to wait before meting out any additional punishments, we, the Four Knights of the Diane Rose, cannot allow this to pass. We were just beginning to get frustrated when you were good enough to try and escape. Although this is all in sport, you should provide a slight diversion.”

As if driven by the Blue Knight’s words, those gathered started to run. But the Red Knight was in front of them. A crimson wind gusted between the fleeing people. Still, they ran right by the sides of the Red Knight. Even though their heads had fallen off five or ten feet back, they didn’t stop sprinting. Another gust of even redder wind shot up from the ground to the sky, blocking the people and knights from the rest of the road.

“Ungrateful insects. This is the price you pay for your foolish actions.”

Before the knights bellowing with laughter, Jaray’s wife and Tumak’s son had fallen to the blood-soaked road. The pair hugged each other tightly.

“So, which of you shall I—” the Red Knight was saying when there was suddenly the shrill whir of engines approaching from the village at a frantic pace.

It sounded like more than a few.

“Looks like we have company,” the Blue Knight said, gleefully rolling his head from side to side.

Less than two seconds later, gasoline-powered motorcycles with high horsepower engines arrived at the scene of the cruel butchery.

While their engines remained running, a white-haired figure hopped off the back rack of the lead bike. He was an old man with a cane.

“Mayor Torsk is my name and . . .”

The reason his voice died as he was making his introduction was because he’d just seen the grotesque corpses that littered the road.

The riders of the roughly ten motorbikes were speechless as well.

“What the hell is this?!” said the rider of the bike that’d carried the mayor, spitting the words one by one.

Although he was more than fifteen feet away, the Blue Knight must’ve had unnaturally keen ears, because he then looked at the rider and muttered, “A woman?”

“So what if I am?!”

Stripping off an apparently homemade cloth helmet along with her goggles, the rider was then revealed to be a beautiful young woman with a slight pinkish flush. Her hair was cut shockingly short, and her eyes were ablaze with anger.

“What the hell . . . ,” she groaned once more, the words sounding crushed and lifeless as she turned the nose of her bike toward the Blue Knight.

Two steel pipes pointed forward from either side of the vehicle—four in total. If the pressurized gas in the tank to the rear were to launch the steel arrows within, they were certain to fly straight and true into the heart of the knight.

“Ah, more prey to amuse us? And this one looks to have a little fight in her,” the Blue Knight replied, his mere words freezing the atmosphere again.

“Knock it off, Elena,” the mayor of the village said, breaking the silence. Turning to the two butchers, he said, “I’ll make no complaint about those already dead. But could you at least be so kind as to show mercy on the last two?” he pleaded in a hoarse voice as the wind stroked his profile.

The grass was singing,

—

Stop, I say, stop,

For they will never spare you

—

“These people disobeyed an order from our princess,” said the Blue Knight. “Until the one who attempted to take her life is captured, no one whatsoever is to leave the village. Nor is anyone to enter. Anyone attempting to leave without her permission will be considered to be in league with the culprit and be promptly executed. And it is our duty to see to it her word is upheld.”

“The only reason they tried to leave was because you enjoy killing everyone just for the fun of it!” Elena shouted. “That hag of yours ordered more than just that. If the guilty party hasn’t been caught within ten days of her decree, ten villagers will be impaled on stakes. And every day after that, five more are to be drawn and quartered. It’s only natural for some people to try and get away!”

“Only natural?”

The two knights looked at each other and laughed.

“And we could say to you and your whole village that what we do is only natural. Take a good look around you at this verdant land and bountiful fields of grain—just who do you think made all of this possible? Lowly humans scratching away at the untamed wilderness with rusty hoes like stupid beasts? Do you recall what it was you said to the princess back then?”

Elena gnawed her lip. Agitation swept like a wave through the group behind her—and judging from the way they were all dressed alike, she was undoubtedly part of the same group. However, Elena quickly looked up at the knight and shouted, “That was a long time ago!”

“What?” the Blue Knight growled, his lance rattling slightly in his right hand.

“Now, hold on a minute,” the Red Knight interjected. “There’s no point arguing all that here and now. We’ve disposed of those who disregarded the rules. Take those other two back with you.”

Joy suffusing his countenance, the mayor stammered, “May I—may I really?”

“You may. Be quick about it.”

“Very well—Come along now, you two,” Torsk said, extending his arms toward the exhausted woman and child.

But neither of them said a word, and foam spilled from their lips. It wasn’t the world around them that filled their eyes, but rather death itself.

“Oh, this isn’t going to work. Come now, let’s be quick about this,” the mayor seemed to tell himself with new resolve as he advanced across the bloody road.

One more step and the two of them would be within reach—but at that instant, the wind snarled.

Even before the geysers of blood went up chasing the two heads that flew into the air, the grass was already singing,

—

Stop it, just stop it,

For they shall never spare you

—

Just as the Red Knight’s blade returned to its sheath in a gust of bloody wind, the Blue Knight’s lance danced out.

The fluid of life gushing so vainly from the stumps became a thousand droplets in the wind, forming a crimson curtain that slapped against the people’s faces.

From behind it, the Red Knight called out, “The rules are the rules, and we make no exceptions. And now, to deal with the little monkey bitch who called our princess a hag.”

Although Elena tried to aim her gas-powered launcher purely out of reflex, the dark red stain across her field of view wouldn’t allow her to do so. She had to wonder which would come for her instead: the steely blade or the bloody lance? The face of the girl was stained with the hues of blood and death.

Just then, the vermilion curtain was torn in two, as if to announce the beginning of a new tale.

Even the deadly knights and their mounts averted their gaze and backed away from the wind that gusted down the road.

But the bizarre phenomenon ended quickly.

And everyone who looked up then saw it—an inky black horse and rider advancing eerily through the corpses and the stakes. For some reason, it would’ve seemed a terribly appropriate image in anyone’s eyes.

The teeth of skulls still impaled on the stakes chattered in the wind. The green grass bowed, and the sun—ever generous with its light—ducked behind a cloud at that very moment.

Everything else was forgotten as they gazed intently at the new arrival.

About ten feet from the Red Knight the rider came to a halt. The face below the traveler’s hat was not of this world. It was unearthly in its beauty.

Even the wind died out, as if it, too, was awestruck.

“Clear the way,” said the traveler.

“And just who are you?” asked the Red Knight. “This is our mistress’s domain. No one may enter. Leave at once.”

However, didn’t the knights currently have orders to kill any intruders on the spot? What did these merciless killers sense in the young man before them?

“The village of Sacri lies ahead, doesn’t it? I have business there,” the young man said, not seeming the least bit hesitant. His long hair fluttered in the breeze.

“Oh, so you want to die, do you?” the Blue Knight said to him. “What’s the matter, Red Knight?” he then asked his comrade. “Have this man’s good looks got the better of you? If that’s the case, I’ll handle this.”

Needless to say, he was joking. The Blue Knight knew better than anyone the skill of his crimson compatriot, as well as his cruelty and his valor.

And that was why it was only natural that he was dumbstruck when the Red Knight told him, “You’re welcome to try.”

“What?” the Blue Knight asked in return, but that was only after the space of two breaths had passed.

“I leave him to you. Give it a try.”

The reply had certainly come from the Red Knight. And the crimson rider had even fallen back to the edge of the road.

The mayor, Elena, and the bikers all just stared, dumbstruck. One of the Four Knights of the Diane Rose was backing down—was this some sort of waking nightmare?

As if nothing at all had happened, the young man gave a kick to his mount’s flanks. He advanced without a glance at the headless corpses still locked in an embrace or the mayor that stood beside them—but the Blue Knight was waiting up ahead.

—

II

—

As they watched the distance dwindle between the two figures, the mayor and the others wore strangely calm expressions. Finally, normalcy had returned to the world. Finally, the Blue Knight would fight. That was what they honestly believed. That’s how unnatural it had been for the Red Knight to let the young man in black pass.

The Blue Knight adjusted his grip on his lance.

There was fifteen feet between them.

The green grass twisted plaintively, singing a song.

—

Halt, I say, halt,

Or one of you shall die!

—

Ten feet.

The Blue Knight’s horse whinnied loudly, as if trying to repress its urge to bolt.

Dark clouds crowded the sky.

Five feet—now.

The Red Knight suddenly looked over his shoulder—out at the grassy plains. “Hold,” he cried. “His honor the Black Knight is on the way.”

Another figure on horseback was galloping toward them from the farthest reaches of the emerald expanse. As his name implied, the knight on the horse’s back was encased in black armor. Even if the Red Knight hadn’t referred to him as “his honor,” the sight of him streaking through the sea of grass with thundering hoof beats and bounding onto the road certainly had all the impact of an iron spike of immeasurable weight.

The young man halted his horse, too.

Tilting his onyx helm to survey the carnage, the knight spat, “How callous. Are you idiots responsible for this?” His voice was also as heavy as iron.

“I resent that remark, sir,” the Blue Knight declared.

“Silence!” the Black Knight roared like the crashing of the distant sea, and with that single word the other two stilled. “I have no objection to you killing those who flee,” he went on to say. “Such is in keeping with the wishes of our princess. But you’ve gone and taken the lives of even the youngest of children. We are not soulless demons! Mr. Mayor, our princess is sure to make reparations for the children at a later date. See to it that no one else discards their life in such a manner again.”

The old man bowed his head without saying a word.

Then the sound of hoof beats reached the ears of all present. Incredibly enough, the young man in black had continued riding on. Bold, perhaps even impudent, the move was so far from expected norms that the Blue Knight and Red Knight could only watch mutely as he went.

“Wait,” the Black Knight called out.

The traveler in black kept going.

Perhaps expecting as much, the knight in the jet-black armor didn’t have a mote of wrath in his voice as he said, “I would have your name.”

“D.”

At that point, a single ray of sunlight poked through the clouds to illuminate the young man’s face. His fairly bloodless complexion was given a rosy hue—that was how beautiful he seemed.

Gasps arose from those on the road, and a murmur rumbled through them like the tide. Elena was the first to make a sound, with her compatriots following suit after.

“I’ll remember that name,” the Black Knight called out.

The young man who’d given his name as D rode off calmly, as if he hadn’t been witness to this tragedy in broad daylight.

At some point, the knights had disappeared, too.

“We’ll bring the bodies back,” said Torsk. “Give me a hand with them.”

Seemingly oblivious to the way the other bikers scrambled forward at the mayor’s request, Elena alone kept a dumbfounded gaze turned toward town—the direction the gorgeous young man had gone. “You see that?” she asked.

Another biker who was about to walk by her stopped in his tracks and replied, “See what?”

“They didn’t make a move against that guy,” Elena said as if she were still dreaming. Perhaps she was. “Three of the Diane Rose knights—and they were practically cowering, and couldn’t even draw on him. He might be the guy to do it. He could save us all,” the girl muttered, her tightly clenched fist making her resolve abundantly clear.

Beside her, the grass whispered,

—

What’s that you say?

—

The young man’s visit couldn’t help but cause a great sensation in the tiny village. People stopped in their tracks and stared as D rode down the street. Dazed, they continued to stare off in the same direction for a long time after he’d gone. Every single person with a scarf around their neck pressed down on it with terrible embarrassment, and then hung their head.

“I wonder which inn he’ll be staying at?” women muttered, irrespective of age.

“Did you see that sword, and the look in his eye? There’s nothing ordinary about him,” the men said to each other.

Contrary to the women’s expectations, D didn’t end up registering at any of the village inns. Halting in front of a house on the outskirts of town, he got off of his horse and rapped on the door with a knocker fashioned from animal bones. The sign next to the door had the words Mama Kipsch—Witch Doctor burnt into it.

After a moment, an elderly woman’s voice from behind the door asked, “Who is it?”

“A traveler,” D replied. “Are you Mama Kipsch?”

“Just ask anyone.”

“I have a message from your grandson.”

In the middle of her heavily wrinkled face, her eyes opened as wide as they’d go. Then she said, “That good-for-nothing brat—I don’t see how he could do this. Where is he at, anyway?”

“He passed away.”

“What?!” the old woman exclaimed, her body growing stiff as a mannequin. Her blue eyes said that the young man before her was some beautiful grim reaper. “Now wait just one second,” she stammered. “What do you mean by that? Tell me more.”

“He was hung up on the riverbank about six miles south of your village. He told me his name as well as your own and where you lived, then asked me to tell you, ‘Take care,’ before he passed away. And now I’ve done that.”

“Yup,” the old woman said with a nod. By the time she’d returned to her senses, the man in the black coat was back on his horse.

“Wait just one minute. Hey!” she wheezed as she raced out the front door and grabbed hold of one of his saddlebags. “Aren’t you the inhospitable one. My, but you are a looker, though.” Feeling the pulse in her right hand, she added, “Look, you’ve gone and got me up over a hundred fifty beats per minute. I’ve gone through two artificial hearts already, you know. Putting in a third would probably be the death of me. If I die, it’ll all be your fault,” she told the traveler. “I’ll haunt you till the end of your days!”

“I’m used to it.”

At D’s reply, Mama Kipsch looked up at him as if just coming back to reality. It seemed that while she’d been gazing at him intently, she’d even forgotten how short of breath she was. Nodding, she said, “Is that a fact? I suppose you would be, at that. You’ve got an unbelievable aura. I didn’t think I should’ve been that winded after running just a tad. But now I see you scare the hell out of me. How many people have you killed with that sword, anyway?”

“If you have no business with me, I’ll be going.”

“I said wait, blast it! If you’re always that cold to folks, you won’t meet a pretty end.” Mama Kipsch then added, “Though I suppose even if you aren’t cold, you still won’t have a peaceful death. Wait, already! Whatever became of my grandson’s remains?”

“I let them float down the river,” D replied. “Those were his instructions.”

“That’s a lie,” the old woman said, stomping her foot angrily. “Who in the world would ask someone to chuck their body in a river? For starters, if it was only six miles from here, that wouldn’t have been very far to bring him back. I think you’re trying to hide something.”

“He said he didn’t want you to see the body. By the look of it, he’d hit quite a few rocks on his way down the river. Do you want to hear the details?”

“No, spare me.”

“I’ll be on the edge of town,” D told her. “Find me if there’s anything else you want to know.”

As the horse began to move, Mama Kipsch let go of it.

Once the rider had gone so far he wouldn’t have seen her if he’d turned and looked, a hoarse voice said, “That’s one hell of an old girl!” The amused tone issued from D’s left hand, which was wrapped around the reins. “Of course, if she wasn’t such a tough old bird, there’s no way her grandson would’ve been able to do what he did, either.” Chuckling, it added, “Floated him down the river, did you?”

The voice was then choked out in an anguished cry.

Although D had clenched his left hand tightly, not the least bit of that strength was conveyed to the reins.

—

Heading straight for the edge of the village, D arrived at a pile of mysterious ruins after twisting and turning down several narrow paths.

Rising from the center of a clearing covered by a wild green carpet of grass, the walls of stone and metal looked like they’d been melted by extreme heat in places, or had crumbled in others. Although the structures no longer retained their original shapes, a concerted gaze would reveal the remains of stonework foundations, paved corridors, and the partitions that had delineated each individual room. Amid grass and white flowers that swayed in the breeze, the remains were more than six hundred feet in diameter, spreading in a way that perfectly illustrated the vain nature of mortal existence and the callousness of the winds of time.

Passing through what little remained of the bronze gates and stone pillars, D entered the ruins. The wind snarled above him. Perhaps due to the legacy of some ancient architectural technique, the wind blew through the gate and took on a strangely morose whistle before it blustered against the traveler in black.

Tethering his cyborg horse to a wooden pole that looked to have been part of a fence and then taking the saddle and bags from it, D gazed off to the west.

Green hills rolled on and on like something out of a painting. At the summit of the one farthest back there towered a solemn castle. This region could almost be considered mountainous, and while the Nobility’s manors in such places had mostly doubled as fortresses, this was an exception. It had been constructed with a grace and refinement befitting the character of those who lived by night. Surely it had to be the castle of the “princess” the murderous knights had mentioned.

However, D returned his eyes to the ruins without any particular emotion, then began to walk around the barely extant roof and ramparts with a measured gait that made it seem like he was performing some sort of inspection. When he’d gone halfway around the perimeter, the ostentatious roar of engines could be heard growing closer from the same path that had brought him there.

Elena and her friends had stopped their motorcycles in front of the ruins. The air carried the heavy scent of gasoline. Just as the bikers were about to enter the area, they froze in place as if they’d just taken a jolt of electricity, and then backed away as D appeared.

Even the sirens who lured captains to their doom with their lovely countenances and sweet songs would’ve undoubtedly fallen victim to his beauty in exactly the same way with just one glance. But far surpassing his good looks was the ghastly aura that knifed into the flesh of all who beheld him—something that gave Elena the feeling they were dealing with a fiend even more powerful than the four knights.

“I’ve come out here because I’ve got something talk over with you,” the girl finally managed to say. The words caught in her throat, and her voice was terribly hoarse.

“What kind of talk would that be?”

As the young man spoke, his unearthly aura seemed to wane, and Elena let out an easy breath. A slight spell of dizziness came over her, but she was able to stand her ground. Her friends were watching. She couldn’t make a fool of herself.

Coughing once, she said, “You impressed the hell out of us. So we were thinking we’d let you hook up with our outfit.”

Seeing D turn his back on them, the members of the group looked at each other. There was neither turmoil nor anger on their faces. All of them had seen with their own eyes the true power of the traveler in black.

A young man straddling a bike a bit larger than the rest rose from the seat. In keeping with the size of his vehicle, he was about six and a half feet tall. “I told you he wouldn’t go for it, Elena,” he said. “Seriously, why would he ever join us? Any way you look at it, he’s a lot tougher than we are. All we can do is try to get on his good side.”

“I’m not about to bow and scrape to some drifter I don’t know from a hole in the ground!” the girl exclaimed, vermilion rising in her cheeks. Pressing her lips into a hard, straight line, she continued, “Everyone, head on over to Grau’s bar. I’m gonna stay here and hash this out.”

“Hey now,” the giant shot back.

“Just who’s the leader here, Stahl?”

“You are. And I don’t think anyone here questions that. It’s just, this time—”

“This time I’m in over my head, so you thought you’d shoot your mouth off? So, I suppose you’ve just been watching out for me all this time, have you?”

The girl’s eyes blazed with a fierce light that silenced the giant—Stahl.

“Okay,” Stahl said after closing his eyes and persuading himself. Gripping the handlebars once more, he shouted, “You heard what she said, people. We’re going to Grau’s!”

 

Once she was sure the roar of their exhaust and all other signs of them had vanished, Elena glared at the ruins.

There was no sign of the traveler.

Putting one hand to the left side of her chest, the girl tried to get her breathing back under control. The weapon she had wound about her waist felt unreliable. Still, Elena sent herself into the ruins with a gait that firmly planted one step after another on the paving stones.

Although she soon found the horse, D was nowhere to be seen. The ruins covered quite a large area, and there were plenty of places to hide. Having played here since childhood, Elena knew the area like her own backyard, but finding the traveler on the first try would be difficult.

“Just you wait and see. I’ll show you what you get for ignoring me!”

As she spoke, the right hand that’d rested on her hip came up, and a streak of black shot out and wrapped around one of the ruin’s stone beams. A second later, Elena was swinging easily into the air.

From the top of the highest beam—some thirty feet up—she commanded a view of the whole ruins. But as much as she strained her eyes, all she could find were scant spots of green between the ruins and the ground below. Although she was supposed to be searching for D, Elena then turned her gaze to the west. Even before her eyes had focused on the manor, her lips twisted and her teeth gnashed.

Just as her anger was approaching its peak, a voice called out behind her, “Don’t even think about it.”

The fact that it took Elena a full second to turn in amazement showed just how angry she was.

A metallic clatter resounded from her right hand, and out of her fist spilled a long, thin chain. With a weight the size of a small stone at one end, it was this same chain that had allowed her to swing up there.

The young man of unearthly beauty who stood behind her was met by a razor-sharp gaze.

“These ruins haven’t done you any harm,” said D.

“Well, I’ll take it out on you, then,” Elena replied as she toyed with the chain in her hand. She must’ve had nearly fifty feet of it wrapped around her trim waist. It wasn’t the sort of thing they taught girls at finishing school.

If D hadn’t come out when he did, she probably would’ve broken some of the beams or knocked a hole in the ceiling.

“You’ve been a real jerk,” the girl continued. “And just to clear something up—if you think we’re afraid of those lousy knights, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

“What do you want?” asked D.

The wind fluttered the hem of his black coat. Some of its threads were loose, and the lining was visible. The edge of the garment was badly frayed.

“To do this!” the girl cried.

A whirring flash of black ripped through the wind to coil around D’s arm and torso.

“Ah!” Elena gasped, but the wind devoured her cry. Stunned, she stared at the tree branch her weapon was wrapped around. D must’ve had it ready all along. No doubt he’d figured out earlier what kind of weapon she carried. He stood in exactly the same spot as before.

“You’re good,” Elena remarked.

Her second shot made a beeline for D’s chest.

D turned one shoulder toward her and avoided the endlessly stretching links.

Behind him, the chain whipped around without slowing down at all, headed back in the opposite direction, and wrapped around D’s neck.

“Sucker! That’s like the first trick you learn to do with a weighted chain. Where are all your tricks now?” she asked. “Or were you just lucky last time?”

“Not really.”

Elena looked all around despite herself—she didn’t think the hoarse voice she’d just heard belonged to D.

A second later, the inky black form leapt into the air. The move was so unexpected that Elena was left without any options.

Light shot out above her head.

With a shriek, the girl extended both arms. Even given the outstanding reflexes with which she’d been blessed, the girl still found her own reaction miraculous.

Her chain stopped the steel with a cha-chink!

But Elena couldn’t move. D held his sword with one hand. Elena, however, was using both hands. Even taking the strength difference of their respective sexes into consideration, she should’ve at least been able to jump out of the way. Yet she couldn’t move at all, as if her body had been turned to lead.

But that wasn’t entirely true, either—her hands alone continued to sink, slowly but surely.

When the edge of the chain finally touched her forehead, Elena exclaimed, “I give up!”

The way she coughed up the words, it seemed like she was spitting up blood.

—

III

—

To be completely honest, she wasn’t even sure that her words were enough to save her. He’ll just cut me down here and now—that was her strongest feeling. Somewhere in her heart, she thought it would be inevitable coming from that young man. And that was why she was left so stunned when the pressure she felt was gone so suddenly.

But the surprises didn’t end there.

D had turned his gaze toward the manor as if he’d lost all interest in her, but she saw his right hand.

“Where’s the sword!” the girl exclaimed.

It was at that point every inch of Elena’s flesh rose with goosebumps. She’d seen a flash of steel, felt it strike her chain, and had even heard the sound of it. Although each of these had the earmarks of a fierce blow from a skilled blade, she had to wonder if it’d all been an illusion. Could it be the blow she’d barely managed to stop, and then struggled with all her might to deflect with absolutely no success, had been nothing more than a barehanded chop?

“Is there anyone in the manor aside from the four knights?”

It was only several seconds later that the girl understood that D was asking her a question. And she didn’t answer until several seconds more had passed.

“I don’t know. No one’s been inside.”

That was all she said before she hung her head. She’d realized that if D was holding his sword, she’d never be able to stop it and would inevitably be cut in two. Then, she suddenly thought of something. Looking up again with desperation on her face, she asked, “Do you want something up there? Say, could it be—you’re a Vampire Hunter, aren’t you?”

“Ever been outside it?” asked D.

“Sure I have. Plenty of times,” Elena replied, feeling the center of her chest grow hot. In dribs and drabs, blood began to work its way through her frozen heart once more. “There are no defense systems next to the castle walls. There used to be all kinds of stuff set up in the old days, but if there’re any now they’ll only be on the inside.”

“How about entrances?”

“Nothing but the castle gate—I was going to say, but there’s one more. Again, this was a long time ago, but when some folks from the village were preparing for guerrilla warfare, they made a hole in the wall the day before. Not long ago—maybe three days back—I was out that way and it’s still there. Don’t worry,” she added, “it’s more than big enough for you to get through. So, you going up there?”

“If you don’t have any business with me, go home.”

“No way. Take me with you,” Elena said as she felt power surging through her body.

All of her despair was banished. The young man who’d bested her like she was a mere infant was going to fight the Noble up in the manor. The mere thought of it was enough to make her body tremble with excitement.

“I’ve got some serious ill will toward those clowns,” Elena said. “The princess, in particular. Come on, you’ve gotta let me help you. I take back what I said earlier. I’ve got no problem with you running the show.”

“It takes more than ill will to destroy a Noble,” D said frostily as he looked up at the sky.

Elena imagined he was calculating how long he had until sunset.

The figure in black leaned forward casually. Without a sound, he drifted down from a height of fifty feet. The way his coat spread out reminded the girl of a certain creature. It looked just like a—

As the traveler was heading for his horse, the girl called out to him, “I’m going, too!”

And with that cry Elena tightened her grip on her chain and raced after D.

—

Less than five minutes after leaving the ruins, Elena found herself mired in a new sense of surprise. Although her bike was supposed to be twice as fast as the average cyborg horse, she could barely keep up with the galloping rider. Since it didn’t look like he was riding a custom model, the only conclusion she could draw was that it was due to his horsemanship.

When they reached the foot of the hill, D looked back at the girl and said, “Wait here.”

“Not a chance,” Elena replied, shaking her head. “After all, I haven’t even told you where the hole is yet. I don’t care how good you are, you’ll still be looking for it when the sun goes down. And once that happens, much as you may hate it, the princess will be in her element. Even if that doesn’t happen, the four knights still move around by day, too. You could use all the friends you can get.”

Saying nothing, D rode up to the bike and leaned over. His left hand reached out and took hold of the handlebars. A second later, he let go and wheeled his horse around. He didn’t lash his mount or give it the spurs; he simply rode on with the reins in his hands.

“Of all the nerve,” Elena spat. But as she gave the accelerator a twist, her eyes bulged in their sockets.

Her bike wouldn’t budge. Although the engine was running, the transmission wasn’t functioning.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” she grumbled. “I just tuned the damn thing this morning!”

Without so much as a backward glance at Elena as she wildly wrestled with the throttle, the black pair of rider and mount swiftly disappeared in the distance.

“You’re gonna pay for that, buster!” Elena shouted with all the anger in her heart.

—

The layout of the grounds around the manor and the traps set there were things D had committed to memory.

Mazes, quicksand, flooding areas, spear-lined pits, swarms of monstrous insects—these were not the only death traps that might prove inescapable for invaders. The electronic brains that controlled everything surely maintained their constant vigil through the day, too. And even if someone made it through all of those defenses, the four knights would be waiting for him. This wasn’t the sort of place anyone who valued his life would go.

D advanced in silence.

Suddenly the scenery changed. Greenery so dark it was nearly black seemed to have been utterly rooted out, leaving the reddish brown soil exposed. Bereft of a single rock or tree or blade of grass, the tableau that stretched before him was one of relentless destruction and ruin.

Without even a moment’s hesitation, D rode right through the area. Soon he heard the sound of running water growing closer. After continuing on for another five minutes, the horse and rider found their advance blocked by a powerful torrent of water.

Clear as glass, the river seemed to swerve away from the hill to its west—where the castle loomed—as it rushed along to provide water for the entire region. Further upstream—about sixty feet from the Hunter’s present location—a rope bridge spanned the river. Thirty feet in the air, it stretched three times that length and ended at the base of a steep slope that led directly to the castle gate.

When he was just fifteen feet shy of the bridge, a voice that D alone heard said, “This sure is fishy.” The words echoed from the vicinity of his left hand, which was wrapped around the reins. “The brush we came through earlier, this river, the bridge—they’re rigged with all kinds of traps. That’s what my gut’s telling me. What,” the hand then exclaimed, “you’ve already started across it?! You just don’t listen, do you?”

Yet for all the objections and dissatisfaction the voice had carried, D crossed the bridge without incident and came to a path that ran like a tunnel through rows of trees with interwoven branches. The sun was blotted out, and shadows and light began to form a vivid mosaic on the rider and his horse.

“See—it’s starting already,” the voice said.

At the round exit from the sheltered pathway stood a crimson horse and rider.

The air was tinged with omens of combat.

This was enemy territory—and D would be at a tremendous disadvantage. Yet the gorgeous huntsman advanced as if that was the way he’d always gone, without hesitation or fear.

The Red Knight remained just as he was, too.

An irresistible force and an immovable object—what would happen when the two of them met? Even the leaves on the branches interlacing overhead seemed to listen intently with their eyes open wide for that moment.

However, the Red Knight quickly stepped to one side.

D went right by him on the covered path as if were completely natural. He didn’t even glance at his formidable opponent.

“I’ve come to meet you and serve as your guide,” the Red Knight said in a voice like grating metal after the Hunter had gone several steps past him.

“I don’t need one,” D replied.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that. We’ve known for some time now that you would come. I have orders from the princess to meet you, but to do nothing else.”

The sun was still high. Although this was the time when the Nobility should be slumbering, there were some who merely entered their coffins but remained awake.

Giving a kick to his mount’s flanks, the Red Knight galloped over to D. “Regardless of your wishes,” he continued, “I will serve as your guide. That is my duty to my liege.”

Still facing forward, D asked, “What would you do if I came at you with my sword?”

Rarely did the Hunter pose a question like that.

“I would have no choice but to stand and be cut down. I’ve not been told to fight.”

Those were surprising words coming from the mouth of a knight whose ferocity was unrivaled.

“Then your lady must be quite important to you.”

“Correct.”

“And if you were ordered to do so, could you stand by and watch as I cut down your princess and the others?” asked D.

“In that case, I would take my own life after killing you,” the Red Knight replied. “However, there’s no need to worry on that account.” In a tone of unassailable confidence he continued, “If you think the princess could be killed by the likes of you—well, once you’ve met her, you’ll understand.”

Saying no more, he continued on for another five minutes, and the two of them came to the bottom of a wide slope. At the top of the nearly sixty-degree incline, the manor and the walls that surrounded it were visible.

“This slope is the last line of defense,” said the Red Knight.

His ordinary voice was enough to make children go pale, but now it had an even stranger ring to it—that of nostalgia.

“In times past,” he continued, “we came down this incline to meet our foes in battle. Forces that vastly outnumbered us have pushed in this far. However, not even the mightiest of foes ever gained the top of this slope. We formed an iron wall where wave after wave of attackers broke until the enemy eventually retreated. Though, that was all so very long ago.”

His voice cut out. And when he quickly started speaking again, his tone had changed once more.

“What we did then and do now has always been prompted by the spirit of our princess, who defends this solitary outpost. In the world below, they are quick to speak of the end of the Nobility, but we recognize no such occurrence. We shall not allow such talk in the domain of our princess, for here the Nobility are still resplendent in their glory.”

The crimson horse set one hoof on the steep slope. The way it climbed so easily seemed to defy the laws of gravity.

After ascending roughly a hundred fifty feet, the knight asked, “Having trouble keeping up?” But when he turned around, what he saw made his eyes go wide within his helmet.

D was less than three paces behind him.

The soil covering the slope would collapse with frightening ease—this was to prevent foes from advancing any further. Climbing it at a steady pace required equestrian skills far greater than most possessed.

As they sent black earth sliding downward, the pair finished ascending the slope and soon came to the gate. The towers that adorned all four corners of the manor, the passageways linking all of the smaller buildings, and the very manor itself all had a stately air, but those who beheld this structure were bound to get a far different impression. Thousands of cracks formed spidery webs in the towering stone walls, the spires of the towers were on the point of collapse, and the masonry was riddled with little holes that gaped like vacant eye sockets. And while the crossed antennas for harnessing both the power of the wind and the electrical energy in the air continued to turn, they only served to make the rest of this place seem dead by comparison.

These were clearly ruins.

“Open the gate!” the Red Knight bellowed. His voice was loud enough to blast away the air before his mouth and create a vacuum. “On orders from the princess, I’ve brought D,” he added. “Open the gate!”

Before the echoes of his voice had faded, there was the sound of iron scraping iron and a black shadow dropped across them from above. Between the two of them and the gate lay a deep, bone-dry moat. The door that barred the gate was actually a drawbridge.

While such an accessory was appropriate for a fortress, it hardly suited a manor of such simple but elegant design. Two thick chains stretched from either side of the drawbridge to disappear into the castle.

After the bridge touched down with an earth-shaking thud, the pair crossed and entered the castle.

A desolate sight greeted D. They had entered the front yard of the manor.

The mounds of brush and dead leaves that had accumulated called to mind the random peaks left by eroding soil. The roof of each and every bower had collapsed, and in part of the main manor, all that remained were white pillars. When mercilessly exposed by the sunlight, the scene didn’t have an iota of the grace the term “extinction” might imply, and the light only served to emphasize the lurid nature of the surroundings to a spine-chilling degree.

“Don’t let any of this mislead you. This is merely its daylight form,” the Red Knight told the traveler as his horse advanced toward an outbuilding that was fairly undamaged by comparison. One room that D passed through seemed to have been maintained by someone, as it still retained the luxurious gold and crystal appointments from its construction long ago.

“As you are no doubt aware, you shall have to wait until night.”

And with that final remark, the Red Knight headed toward the door. He then stopped in his tracks. When he spun around, D was standing right behind him.

“Why, you . . . ,” the knight groaned as the most unearthly aura blasted his face—and for the first time he realized what the gorgeous young man actually was. “Only once in the past has anyone ever angered me so,” said the knight. “Are you one of those, too—a Vampire Hunter?”

“Yes, I am,” said D. “Where can I find the princess and all others?”

As D asked the question, both of his arms hung idly by his sides. He didn’t have a single muscle tensed, and it was truly disconcerting. This was but one reason why he was someone to be feared.

“Do you actually think I would tell you?” the Red Knight finally replied with a mocking laugh. “Will you cut me down? So be it. I should love to fight you. However, my princess has ordered me not to raise a hand against you even if you take your blade to me. At the very least, you will not pass this way. D, I shall see you again in the next world.”

The knight stood tall in front of the door, his chest thrown out with determination. He was a veritable Cerberus guarding the entrance to Hades.

“Aren’t you going to run away?” asked D.

The Red Knight roared with laughter. “I don’t believe I’ve ever even heard that expression before.”

Even if it might mean his own death, he seemed intent on watching every last movement of D’s blade. But as the knight’s eyes opened wide, their depths reflected a sudden flash—a flash of black.

Seeing the giant lose consciousness from a thrust into the thinnest part of his armor—the gorget around his throat—D returned his sheath and the sword it still held to his back.

“My, but he was a patient fellow,” a low voice said with admiration from the Hunter’s left hand.

The Red Knight didn’t fall. He’d lost consciousness, yet was still standing there like a wrathful temple guardian.

“Well, that’s that. Mind if I ask you a question?” said the disembodied voice. “Are you gonna knock him over, or did you have something else in mind?” The voice cackled, but its laughter ended in a muffled cry.

Clenching his left hand tightly enough to nearly break his own fingers, D kicked off the floor. The hem of his coat fluttering like wings, he soared like a mystic bird to the skylight fifteen feet above him.