Mercenary Road (15 page)

—

I

—

Once the door had shut behind Drago, calm immediately filled his heart. Had the Hunter tried to force his way inside, the baronet would’ve been powerless to stop him.

Surrounded by luxurious paintings, sculptures, and carpets, a white coffin sat in the center of the room, and beside it a figure in a green cape was seated in a golden chair.

“So, you’ve come, Drago?” said Grand Duke Dorleac, his green eyes gazing gently on his son. The arm D had taken from him was now restored. It was probably a cyborg limb.

“As you can see,” the baronet replied. “Just now, I ran into someone in the hall.
The Great One
.”

“Ridiculous. And yet, it’s not completely out of the question. Since my castle returned to life, I’ve constantly felt the Great One’s presence. Even five millennia later, must I still answer to
him
?”

“Indeed,” said Drago, his expression one of amazement. “It was
he
who forced you to interfere with me, Father, and later made us adversaries. I don’t hate you for that. However, I can’t forgive the way you handed over Mother, no matter how grand the cause.”

“Those were my orders.”

“Mother never did return, and rumor has it she was used in experiments any Noble would find abhorrent.”

“Enough!”

“You may act as wounded as you like now, but that won’t bring her back! For the sake of my mother, who died in pain and humiliation, I shall slay my father, and then lay waste to the world of man.”

“That runs contrary to
his
will. I’ll stop you, Drago!”

“I fully expect you to try. One other thing, Father,” Drago said, turning his head ever so slightly toward the corridor. “What I encountered wasn’t an illusion. Nor was it merely
his
presence.”

“What?”

That stunned instant was precisely what the Nobleman’s son had been waiting for. The grand duke was suddenly enveloped by purple, and the blades that thrust out from all sides pierced his body. Reaching out his hands, the grand duke tried to catch hold of his son. As his arms were sliced off at the elbow and fell to the floor, Dorleac shuddered from head to toe, coughing up bright blood.

“That was quicker than I expected, Father,” Drago said, smiling sadly. “You gave Mother as an offering to the Great One. And
he
sided with the filthy humans. I want you to understand why I did these things.”

The baronet’s cape opened and returned to its normal shape, while the grand duke’s body collapsed to the floor as if it’d been waiting to do so all along.

Baronet Drago was headed for the door when he halted and turned, saying, “Next, I shall do battle with the Great One. Here’s hoping we meet again in the hereafter at some point. I suspect we’re both going to the same place.”

Heading toward the door again, he turned for a second time.

A green globe had glided into the air.

“Not through yet?” Drago said, meeting the threat head on.

The globe closed on him.

The purple cape spread like gigantic wings.

—

The sound of the great door opening echoed down the corridor. D gazed at the figure revealed by the moonlight.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the young Nobleman told him.

D’s right hand went for the hilt of his sword. He didn’t inquire how the battle with Dorleac had turned out. The only thing he had to offer the man who’d returned as promised was the fight they’d agreed upon.

Drago spread his cape as if there was nothing that could’ve pleased him more.

“There’s one thing you should know,” the baronet said, purple chaos whirling behind him. “Even if you should slay me in this battle, the mercenaries won’t be destroyed. Each side will fight to the last man, spreading slaughter across the entirety of the Frontier. And no one can stop that.” A smile split his lips, revealing glittering white fangs. “He was a great father.”

D dashed through the moonlight. As he barreled through it, the glittering moonlight changed shape and watched him go, at times like a fog, at times like mica.

A wall of purple met D’s blade. Making a horizontal slash, D poised himself for a thrust. Stark streaks of light flew to the Hunter’s left and to his right, in front of him and behind him. Parrying some and dodging others, D made his thrust. Drago’s heart would lie at the end of it.

The Hunter felt his blade pierce fabric. Drago’s cape was folded, layer upon layer, making a wall to ward off the blow.

“Can you see me?” Drago inquired.

D’s entire field of view was filled by writhing purple fabric.

“I see you.”

“What?” the frozen Nobleman exclaimed, and at the zenith of his astonishment, D bounded. The wall of purple spread before him, and a naked blade shot from it. Not bothering to parry it, D swung his sword home. He could feel only too well as it split his foe’s skull.

As it came drifting down, the purple wall dissolved into the moonlight. The tall figure reeled, like a dancer thrown off balance.

“Well done! I should expect no less from the Great One.”

As he watched the bright blood swiftly soaking his opponent’s face and chest, D said something strange: “That wasn’t my sword.”

As if yanked backward on a line, Drago tumbled against the great door, using it to pull himself upright. His cape sailed up. Beneath it, his chest was gone. In its place, there was a hole the size of his head. The carvings on the great door behind him were visible through the gap. Grand Duke Dorleac’s ball of energy had dealt a critical wound.

The light was swiftly fading from the baronet’s eyes. Reaching out one hand as if seeking something, he said, “Please . . . give me back my mother.”

And with that he collapsed. By the time he hit the floor, he was half dust. It streamed through the blue light like an ashen fog. There must have been a breeze.

As D gazed at the dust, weariness clung to his features like a shadow.

“So, I look like
him
?” the Hunter said, but it was unclear if the words were intended for the departed or someone else.

D’s gaze fell on the great door. His sword was in his right hand. And the doorway was producing another shadowy figure.

“So, you
are
here, are you?” Grand Duke Dorleac said with a certain heartfelt emotion. Not a drop of blood remained on the body that’d been so badly perforated. “I sensed something out on the battlefield. Are you the esteemed personage of whom my son spoke?”

“Your son is gone. What will you do?”

“I rose from the dead to guard against my son’s actions. I no longer have any business in this world.”

The Hunter said nothing.

The grand duke’s vermilion lips formed a smile, bringing white fangs into view.

“But being a Noble, there’s something I must do: rule over the humans.”

“Were those your Sacred Ancestor’s orders?”

“No, the Sacred Ancestor forbade even threatening the humans. What I shall do next will run contrary to his lofty intentions.”

“So, you’ve come to pity your son?”

The grand duke’s eyes were ablaze. A fiery ball of death shot from his mouth, streaking toward D. The arc of the Hunter’s sword split it in two. Simultaneously an explosion occurred, and D was physically blown back.

“It’s not just human energy. Didn’t you see my mobile collector that takes in all kinds of life?”

Blue waves of electromagnetism enveloped D’s chest. Or rather, they were chaotic flames of life energy.

Narrowing his eyes, the grand duke looked at D. “Oh, that’s right. You’re injured, aren’t you? It would appear my son took a toll on you.” The Nobleman then donned an expression as if he’d suddenly realized something, continuing, “Ah, but your skill should be far beyond my son’s. I see. You let him do that on purpose, didn’t you?”

D’s knees shook. The grand duke’s attack seemed to be scorching him to the very marrow, and the left hand that could’ve negated it wasn’t there to help him.

“As his parent, I should probably thank you for that, but of course you’re no more than a filthy bounty hunter out to take our lives. I must dismiss my son’s words as mere misgivings before battle.”

The Nobleman’s mouth opened, revealing a deep green glow.

D had his sword at the ready, too. Despite the hopeless agony he was in, he hadn’t lost a whit of his will to fight. The Hunter kicked off the ground.

His features forming a grin that was the picture of malevolence, the grand duke launched the flaming sphere of death at D’s chest. Leaving his still-flaming body exposed to the swelling sphere of fire, D hurled his longsword as if it were a throwing knife.

The grand duke had plenty of time. He launched a second flaming sphere at the blade. The flames welled up, forming an immovable shield.

Piercing this shield, the sword sank into the chest of the still-smiling grand duke. As his body snapped back, he screamed out a death rattle.

“Wh—what strength is this?” Dorleac sputtered. “It can’t be. Tell me it’s not you . . . milord . . .”

His words were heard by the blazing figure in black. The flames then vanished like water seeping into the ground as D’s body absorbed them. A ferocious glow resided in the Hunter’s dark eyes.

“You . . . drank blood . . .”

D’s lips were damp with crimson. Just before hurling his longsword, he’d bitten open the inside of his mouth and drunk the blood. That was why his sword had pierced the deadly fireball.

“But I’m not destroyed yet . . . The power that flows through me is that of the Sacred Ancestor.”

“Why did the Sacred Ancestor bring the two of you back to life?” D asked as black smoke rose from his chest, cuffs, and back.

“Five thousand years ago . . . when my son and I did battle and we both were slain, the Sacred Ancestor was battling a group of Nobles who’d started an insurrection. They had taken my son in and promised to revive him after his death, so he might paint the human world pitch black five millennia later. Learning of this, the Sacred Ancestor told me he would resurrect me at the same time, and ordered me to put an end to my son. You see, I was told that I was responsible for my son’s rebellion.”

“And that meant the two of you had to cross swords again?”

“Enough talk. Face me once more, you who have the power of the Sacred Ancestor!”

Twisting his upper body, Grand Duke Dorleac started to rush forward, the sword still stuck in him. But ahead, a man and a woman appeared from the great corridor to the right. It was Stanza and Strider, the same two warriors who’d been exposed to the unearthly gas that lingered in the torture chamber. While it was unclear where they’d been or what they’d been doing, they wore the expressions of those who gaze upon nothingness.

“Your job is finished, grand duke!” said Strider. It was Strider’s voice, but that’s not who was there. “No other action is called for. Return to the darkness from which the Great One brought you.”

The grand duke laughed, his voice dripping with blood. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I realize something only now. My son was correct. Crushing the humans underfoot and savoring their blood is the only way for a Noble to live! I intend to follow through on my son’s wishes.”

Perhaps it was the same will that’d allowed him to destroy his own son that made the grand duke gnash his fangs, his rather contemplative visage flushing with an undirected rage. He unleashed a fireball like he was spitting up a gout of blood.

A split second before it could sink into Strider’s forehead, a silver blade appeared to intercept it, with the ball sizzling away like a drop of water on a hot skillet. Lowering the sword he’d held out horizontally, Strider grinned. It was the smile of someone who’d been given unearthly power.

As the grand duke stood rooted like a statue, the warrior charged toward him, the wind swirling in his wake. When Strider was ten paces away, the grand duke’s right hand went for the hilt of the longsword protruding from his chest. The blade was pulled out and hurled in a single motion, but Strider batted it away with ease. It must’ve seemed to him like a feeble act of desperation—but then a ball of fire struck the warrior’s chest. It was a mass of energy that’d been spat out just after D’s sword was thrown. Strider hadn’t noticed that the sword was merely a ruse to camouflage this second attack.

Not even glancing at the warrior he’d transformed into a fiery mass, the grand duke dashed down the corridor. After him ran Strider, trailing flames and black smoke.

“There’s no keeping that man down, is there?” Stanza sneered, watching her compatriot go as if none of this had any bearing on her.

—

II

—

“How long are they going to play hide-and-seek? We’re not the same anymore, you know.”

“You’ve been possessed, haven’t you?” said D.

Tapping a finger against her head, Stanza replied, “Oh, you can tell? There was someone strange back in the torture chamber. Well, not a
person
, but a kind of presence. I think it was probably left here to wait for this day. For five thousand years.”

D took a step forward.

“Aren’t you still full of fight! Where are you going?”

“My job’s not finished yet.”

“Strider will finish him off. And you’ll have to deal with me,” Stanza said, her right hand slipping into her jacket.

D halted.

“Oh, you finally feel like doing this? Unfortunately, I’m not the same me you used to know.”

“
He
possesses a woman—and it seems she wants me to consider her
him
,” the Hunter mused.

“If I didn’t, you’d never fight me. You know, I’m so happy. I finally get to face you as an equal.”

Stanza’s right hand flashed out. The old Stanza always twisted to the left a split second before she hurled darts with her right hand—it was the stance she took to throw them—but now she skipped that movement, hurling her darts as soon as she pulled them out. She no longer had a need for that once-crucial movement.

And D had no longsword to fend off her darts. With dull thuds, her iron projectiles sank into his flesh—into the left arm D was holding over his face.