Vampire Hunter D: Dark Nocturne (14 page)

Bazura alone glanced up at the pair, speaking in a tone that seemed to rise from the bowels of the earth, “Truth be known, we don't really need
you
. We only brought you along because Cecile threatened to bite her own tongue off if we laid a hand on you. We'll finish you off soon enough, so keep your pants on.”

“In that case, tell me something. What's the purpose of bringing us all the way out here?”

The question was one he'd asked repeatedly while they were being brought there, and it had never garnered an answer.

“I suppose it can't hurt to tell you now. We're here to destroy D.”

“What?! You mean he's not dead?”

“I killed him,” Bazura said in a weird tone. “But apparently he came back to life. That's Vampire Hunter ‘D' for you. He's no ordinary opponent.”

“I'm not sure I follow you, but in that case, the battle's as good as decided. There's no way he'll be killed by a bunch of instant Nobility like you jerks. Give up already and go hide in a grave. Once day breaks, I'll find you and put you at peace.”

“We might have some trouble if it was just us, but we also have
her
.”

Bazura's words left Lyle shaken.

“Her? If you mean the Noble who bit the lot of you, I already took care of her.”

The unvoiced laugh that followed shook Lyle as he hung in space.

“You like to boast of such piddling matters. I suppose I should punish you. After all, once D gets here, we're going to do away with you anyway.”

Taking a few arrows from the quivers on their backs, Bazura and his men planted roughly a score of them in the ground directly below Lyle and Cecile with the points facing up. Then aiming his rapid-fire crossbow upward, he fired a shot at Cecile before Lyle could even try to dissuade him. The arrow sliced halfway through the rope supporting Cecile, and the girl let out a scream.

“Well, I suppose that'll do nicely. Now D has to race here and take all of us out before the love of your life falls onto the arrowheads—that's the only way to save her.”

“You dirty bastard! Go on and shoot me, too!”

“It wouldn't be much fun if I did that,” Bazura said, laughing aloud for the first time.

“Lyle!” Cecile cried out.

Turning to the girl, he shouted back, “Don't talk! You'll only put more strain on the rope. Just hold still. Don't move. We'll get through this!”

“I don't care anymore,” Cecile said softly. “Anything's better than dying back in that hut. And I've got you by my side. If I fall, I don't want you to grieve for me.”

Lyle couldn't scold her for talking anymore. And though her words showed her resignation to this fate, no one could blame her. Twice set out to die, the sacrifice would've undoubtedly been a far crueler fate than to be run through quickly. The boy had done all he could possibly do.

“Don't worry. I'll be right behind you. After I've taken care of these bastards and the other Noble that seems to be around, that is.”

“What a lovely sentiment,” Bazura laughed mockingly from below. “You'd best pray D gets here before that comes to pass. Because that's what we were chosen for.”

At that point, there was an owl hoot from the road sloping down to the pond—a signal from a lookout that'd been posted there.

“Here he comes. Everyone into position!”

At what truly sounded like a command from a former mercenary, the shadowy figures pulled heavy masks up over their noses and mouths and melted into the darkness.

The form of the horse and rider was at the crest of the slope, shimmering with moonlight. Without the slightest pause they cantered down.

Lyle didn't even think about shouting out a warning. Though Bazura had vanished without saying anything to him, he couldn't be sure the man wouldn't put a steel arrow through Cecile at any moment.

When D reached the foot of the hill, black shapes came down around him from all sides. But they weren't attackers. The things that fell around him broke open easily, sending a powerful stench into the night air. Garlic extract.

Ordinarily, Bazura and the others would've been writhing from the smell since they'd been made servants of the Nobility. But the heavy masks they wore must've helped to prevent that.

D raced ahead at full speed. Suddenly, his body and that of his mount were thrown forward. The tips of spears jutting from the ground had jabbed into his horse's belly.

Midair, there were flashes from D's left hand. Perhaps he'd seen the locations from which the foul-smelling packages had been hurled.

Men who'd been pierced in various spots by rough wooden needles appeared from behind the trees, weapons glittering in the hands of all as they charged at D.

Keeping his left hand over his nose and mouth all the while, D met their attack. All he had was the blade in his right hand—but every time it flashed out, it easily deflected whistling iron spears in flight or sent longswords falling to the ground along with the hands that gripped them. There were about ten men, and running them all through the heart or taking off their heads didn't even take ten seconds.

“Incredible! Absolutely incredible!” Lyle exclaimed. He couldn't help but shout at the exquisite display of skill by moonlight.

As D shot a quick glance up at him, an arrow shot out of the ground and severed Cecile's rope. The girl plummeted, her screams trailing behind her.

While D stood motionless, a silvery flash shot up from beneath his feet. As he took it through the solar plexus, D drove his own sword into the earth and lifted his left hand. He caught the falling Cecile, and a groan that would've left most covering their ears rose from beneath his blade and Bazura sent black dirt flying everywhere as he sat up. D's sword had pierced the man through the back of the neck and gone right through his heart.

Pulling off his mask with trembling hands, Bazura gasped, “You . . . you damn freak . . . Even with my blade in you, you stabbed me right back . . .”

With D's sword still stuck in his neck, Bazura ambled away. The vitality of this vampire was a thing to be feared.

Though D should've given chase, he fell to his knees where he was. His Noble blood had reacted to the stifling aroma of garlic that wafted around him.

The rapid-fire crossbow was raised.

Lyle still hung high in the air.

But it was a second later that Bazura's silhouette lurched unexpectedly. The blank-propelled arrow jabbed into the ground, and his headless corpse toppled forward.

Behind him, still poised with her shoddy longsword from home at the end of its downward stroke, was the raggedly breathing Helga.

__

“I guess that settles it, doesn't it?” Lyle said as he returned to the living room after putting Cecile to bed, but only the old woman nodded at his words.

“So it would seem. You did a fine job yourself, you know.”

Caught in a look of admiration, Lyle rubbed the back of his head bashfully.

“Well then, here's the money you were promised.” Pulling a rough little pouch out from under the table, the crone passed it to D, saying, “You'll be going soon, I take it. I sure will miss you.”

“You can't!” Lyle interjected hastily. “When I was talking about things being settled, I meant with Bazura and the first Noblewoman. There's still another major player out there.”

“Relax. She won't be coming around any more,” Helga told him.

“How do you know that?”

“Just a hunch. But then again, I'm the one who called D here in the first place. Trust me.”

Up until then, D had been leaning back against the wall by the door like a winter's night given shape.

“I'll be leaving here tomorrow,” he said simply.

“Hey! Wait a second—”

Ignoring the seriously agitated Lyle, the old woman said in a cheery tone, “In that case, maybe I should get you to take me with you. At any rate, I can't have much time left. I suppose that rather than staying here to decay all alone, traveling with you and seeing all sorts of things before I die would be a tad better. Oh, don't even bother saying it. I'll just follow along on my own anyway. And when I pass away, you won't need to do a blessed thing for me.”

“The old woman will die, but
you
won't.”

Lyle didn't comprehend the meaning of D's words.

“What's that you say?” the crone remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“You said you were going to divine the Noble's location, didn't you? What was the result?”

“It was—” the old woman began to reply, but she quickly held her tongue and stared at D.

However, she seemed to give in right away. Turning her eyes to the floor, she continued, “—right in this house.”

“I swam down to the ruins,” D said without ever breaking his pose.

“Is that a fact?” Helga replied.

Lyle rose to his feet in astonishment.

For the first time, old Helga's voice had been that of a young woman. Strangely enough, the very crone it had come from had her own eyes wide with surprise.

“Wha—what in the world was that?” the boy stammered.

“You saw it, I assume. My ‘abode.' But I thought I'd melted it completely. Were you able to figure it out just from the wreckage?” she said, her words and the old woman's both coming from the same mouth.

Not replying, D asked instead, “Why did you appear now? And why was the handmaiden in the blue dress with you?”

“My father crafted the ‘abode' for me. Actually, it would be more accurate to call it a ‘world'. So long as I remained inside it, I could live forever in a world of light. The blood synthesizers worked perfectly, too. A century ago, my father foresaw the fate of the Nobility and constructed that so I might live on without anyone ever knowing. However, ultimately, I was unable fight my blood. After more than a hundred years of denying myself, I finally couldn't restrain the urge to drink human blood any longer.”

As she spoke with the stoic voice of the night, the old woman was deathly pale. She was finally learning the truth. And it was being told to her by herself.

“That's ridiculous . . . Utterly ridiculous. If that were true, why would you call D here?” Lyle asked in a tone of mingled perplexity and fear.

Turning to the boy, she countered, “I—I didn't do anything. I was just nervous.”

“But it wasn't me that called you here. It was this ‘world,'” the crone said to the Hunter, thumping her chest coldly. “The world my father crafted was far too intricate, too ingenious. At some point, my ‘world' knit itself into the human ‘world,' developed a will of its own, and began to ‘live.' Why, it even got a heart. And that was why it formed Larna—my lady-in-waiting—and set everything in motion. She was true to the spirit of the original right to the very end.”

“D—I was . . .”

“Do you understand, D?” asked the youthful voice. “In order to destroy me, you'll have to cut down this tired old ‘world.' There's no other way to subject me to your blade. Inside her, I will live on forever, D!”

A flash of light came straight down.

“Perhaps I'd have been better off never meeting you,” the old woman practically mumbled as a white line streaked down her forehead and along her nose. “I wanted to live with you from the first moment I laid eyes on you. I ordered the rabble to slay you so I might drink your blood a moment before your death and make you my servant—no, I never actually planned to make a servant of you. At the very least, I wanted to walk with you once through the autumn fields. It was my favorite season, after all.”

The band of light turned her humble living room into a shimmering world.

“D, I just wanted—” said the crone.

“D, I simply wished—” said the young woman.

The two voices overlapped, and a second later, old Helga's body split lengthwise.

D saw inside. The sun shone brilliantly over fall woods ablaze with leaves of red and gold, while a fragrant breeze carried the scent of apples and plums. And the light enveloped everything. In this scene there stood a girl in a white dress. Her hair was light green.

It was impossible to tell whether it was the voice of the old woman or the young that finished speaking in the end, saying, “—to go away with you.”

And then the girl split down the middle and dissolved into the endless white light.