Tyrant's Stars: Parts Three and Four

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  Setting the knife on the ground, D’s left hand drank the blood with its palm.

  “Water and wind are covered.”

  A tiny mouth opened in the bloodied palm, and then even tinier eyes joined it.

  “Don’t have enough earth and fire. But we’ll have to give it a shot.”

  The moment of truth passed. Moonlight made the night wind glitter on the steely plain, and after a moment of stillness the faint emotions of man and woman flared up and burned out. What remained then? Until a new drama of life and death began, only the moonlight and the wind.

  III

  “Lord Valcua!”

  The Ultimate Noble, slouched in a chair, turned his head when he realized it was Kima who called him, but immediately faced forward again.

  “I’m still making my preparations. I shall brook no interference,” he said in a voice like a rumbling from the earth.

  “It’s the four members of the Succubus Squad sent out on reconnaissance—they’re believed dead,” Kima replied. While all the others communicated via holographic images, he alone spoke to Valcua directly.

  “I know. This is my kingdom. It must be the work of D.”

  “Indeed, milord.”

  “So, he used the same trick that I used to come back from the depths of space? This man begins to worry me more and more.” “Given it’s him, that’s not surprising.”

  “That’s right,” Valcua said, turning around. “After all, this is a man you once served. When he exited the labyrinth, I believed I’d taken the full measure of his power and constructed a perfect duplicate of him. We then fought.”

  “I see—and how did it go?” Kima asked, his curiosity seemingly piqued. He leaned forward without realizing it.

  “We were basically even. I drove Glencalibur through his chest, and his blade pierced my heart. That sensation—well, I wouldn’t call it pleasant. Were we to actually fight, the result would probably be the same. In which case, I would lose.”

  Kima was speechless.

  “But I can’t accept that. The Ultimate Noble is fated to be eternally victorious. Kima, there’s something I shall share with you alone.” “What is it, milord?”

  “Something a man told me in a dream. Only in a time of absolute peril will I allow you to make use of a certain weapon. It's concealed in the far reaches of an extradimensional dungeon, and only when you truly desire it will you receive the key that unlocks it."

  “What is it? And who was this man in your dream?”

  “I don’t know either of those things . . . All I know is that it was a man. I get the feeling I saw his face, saw his form, yet I can’t remember anything. Perhaps it was just a dream of a dream. There was just one thing ...”

  “One thing?” Kima said, the words falling hard against his chest.

  “Behind him stretched a wasteland—a plain so desolate that in my dream, I felt from the very bottom of my heart I should never want to set foot on it. That was where he’d come from.”

  Valcua raised his right hand. A golden card trembled between his fingers.

  “And that—is it the key?”

  “A short time ago, I suddenly found it sitting in my lap. I don’t know where it came from or who brought it here. Not even I know, here in my kingdom, of all places.”

  “And your time of absolute peril. .. might that refer to D?”

  “I don’t know, but I assume so.”

  “Why, that’s..

  Taking his eyes off his master, Kima surveyed their surroundings.

  Walls towered over them like a mountain range, their summit out of sight. As for the ceiling—there probably was one. The walls themselves were so far away, the place so vast that it left any who entered it feeling utterly alone. It hardly seemed right to call it a room.

  Kima didn’t know everything there was to know about the kingdom. Only Valcua did. But even as he reminded himself of this fact, he had to wonder why a black anxiety still bubbled up in him.

  Where were they?

  “Here it is,” said Valcua. His face had a pale glow.

  Though Kima tried to remember what had been across from where he was seated, he had no luck. There was only light. From the depths of it came something that was unfamiliar to Kima. Not even Valcua knew what it was.

  The black-steel world had an endless white glow.

  D was aware of the change that had come over Sue. He’d overheard her exchange with Callas. If she was still okay, she’d undoubtedly be headed for Valcua’s castle. In which case, he’d go there too. He

  would defend the Dyalhis children—that was the contract he had made with their mother.

  There was no sign of anything moving on the plain, which slumbered in the moonlight.

  D was headed north. He was less than two miles from the spot where he’d been revived. Far up ahead of him, what looked like a vast construction site came into view. It was full of titanic devices that loomed far overhead, all working silently. Though they weighed thousands or even tens of thousands of tons, these machines didn’t make a single sound.

  “I don’t get it. What are they doing?” the left hand asked. Its question was perfectly reasonable.

  There were three enormous machines. They resembled derricks that were over one thousand feet tall. There was nothing at all in the center of the triangle they formed.

  Just then, a crack raced through the black ground exactly in the center of the triangle. Quickly spreading wider, it discharged the energy stored inside it.

  “This ain’t good—it’s headed this way! Run for it!”

  The surging torrent of light roared like a raging river as it flowed around the bases of the massive machines, then downstream— plowing toward the plain where D stood.

  “There’s a hill over there. Hurry!”

  The Hunter’s left hand pointed off to his left, where a slight rise curved up like a wart on the earth. D dashed, the wind swirling in his wake. Behind him, the roar of the light could be heard.

  “We’re not gonna make it in time!”

  The instant his left hand shouted this, D made a bound. That one leap took him one hundred feet. It placed him halfway up the steep slope, and on landing D kicked off the ground once more to land on the summit.

  Watching the roaring waters of light after they crashed against the foot of the hill, the left hand commented, “Over there—is that something spinning?”

  Though the flow had already submerged the entire plain surrounding the hill, in the area just two hundred yards north of it something was revolving as the water pushed against it. Was that a waterwheel? It had to be at least three hundred feet in diameter. A waterwheel would turn the force of the water into energy for grinding flour or generating electricity—but there was no sign of any structure for doing either. Who was using this enormous source of energy?

  To the Hunter, the colossal, derricklike structures seemed like lofty turrets that stretched before him without end.

  “Incredible! They’re moving, but they don’t make a sound. Are they building something, or tearing something down?”

  Seurat replied, “I’ve never seen . . . these machines before . . . either. I don’t really understand the things Lord Valcua does.”

  “The dimensional embankment in the eastern wasteland has collapsed,” Kima said.

  “I know. That place is an utter mess. The collapse is probably completely natural.”

  “You mean you’re not responsible for it, Grand Duke?”

  “Ah—regretfully, no,” Valcua replied, waves of terrible curiosity sweeping through his eyes. “Who would cause a minor embankment like that to collapse, and toward what end?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” Kima replied.

  Just then, the synthesized voice of a machine echoed overhead, saying, “The prisoner has escaped from the gravity-field dungeon.” “What?” Valcua exclaimed, his cheeks quaking. The person he’d locked in the dungeon was allegedly the only thing that could save him in his hour of direst peril.


  “Help!”

  Mixed with the roar of the waters that had climbed halfway up the hill, the cry still reached D’s ears. The voice was Sue’s. He could tell what direction it came from.

  D focused his gaze. About five hundred yards away, on the top of a low rise that was just coming under siege by the water, he could make out two figures: Sue and Seurat. Perhaps having already thought of a way to rescue her and slay him, D began to walk toward the summit of the hill, but then he halted as if lightning had just shot through him and looked around.

  “What the hell was that?” the hoarse voice said dazedly, its tone choked with amazement. “Where is it?”

  By the time his left hand was done speaking, D had turned his gaze from the summit of the hill to the gigantic machines. Beyond the erupting waters of light, he could make out a figure. Dressed in silver, form-fitting garments, he had a wonderfully defined physique. His features were filled with grace. Of particular note were his long, thin eyes and his lips. He was every bit as beautiful as D.

  However, D’s eyes were far colder, and a certain memory seemed to linger in them. Feelings meant nothing to this man. His own parents could die right before his eyes and still he would feel no sadness. Not even if they were murdered. Not even if he killed them with his own two hands.

  The figure in the silver tights stuck his right arm out parallel to the glowing water. With it he gripped a twisted iron rod. Muttering something, the man stuck the end of the iron rod into the water. A single plume of light reached up to the heavens. It was water.

  The raging torrent became a foot-thick column of water being sucked into the sky. The flow on the ground ran toward the column. It was impossible to say how fast it moved, but the black surface of the ground quickly became visible again. The glow that gushed up

  from beneath the machines floated up to heaven, draining the area in less than two seconds.

  “Damn, he’s good,” the left hand remarked with amusement. “He’s chock full of energy. He’s gotta have the power to conceal it, but from the way he just puts it out there for the world to see, I wonder if he was born recently?”

  “One of Valcua’s?” D murmured.

  “No doubt about it. But I don’t understand. The power this guy oozes—it’s just like yours. I’d tell you to stay on your toes, but you’re not one to heed advice—anyway, watch out. You should avoid contact with him. Hey!”

  D was in the air. He’d made a massive leap from the hill.

  Sue thought her blood would freeze. Seurat was left so weak, being surrounded by water seemed like a vacation by comparison. The wounds Miranda had dealt the giant sapped his strength with a speed that horrified Sue. If she didn’t do something, he would die—and that only firmed Sue’s resolve to go see Valcua with him.

  They’d come this way because Seurat had told her, between agonized breaths, that there was a construction site nearby. According to the giant, projects aimed at reinforcing the grand duke’s kingdom, rather than expanding it, had continued throughout the five millennia from the time of his banishment until his territory was put back in place. Since artificial life forms and human laborers had been used in the old days, things like lodgings and medical facilities had been established for them, and they remained operational even now.

  After walking all night, they’d finally arrived at the construction site. They saw the facility there, too. A trickle of joy began to flow through Sue’s utterly exhausted body—and it was immediately followed by the great deluge.

  She thought it was a miracle that they were up on a plateau when it began, but in the blink of an eye the snarling torrent was ready

  to swallow the helpless pair. And then, there’d been another miracle. The deadly waters had all vanished into the sky.

  As Sue looked around in disbelief, her eyes caught a silvery figure standing at the source of the stream.

  Who's that?

  He also noticed them. As she watched his approach, Sue was filled with equal parts fear and anticipation.

  CHAPTER 4

  I

  Sue!” a faint voice called out raggedly at her feet. “Help me up.” Seurat had also noticed the strange character closing on them.

  “No, you’re in no shape for that. He’s not necessarily our foe. We should assume he’s one of Lord Valcua’s servants.”

  Sue was still brainwashed. The young man in silver was crossing the trench the current had carved. It certainly seemed safe to assume anyone who drew breath in Valcua’s domain was one of his vassals.

  “He’s not,” Seurat said, but Sue found this denial difficult to accept.

  “But he’s—”

  “I’ve . . . never seen him before. No one in his service . . . looks like that.”

  “That can’t be!” Sue exclaimed, staring stupidly at the man, who’d finished climbing up the plateau to stand before them.

  “Who the hell are you?” asked Seurat. His gigantic form had risen to its feet.

  The man tilted his head to one side. His demeanor suggested not so much that he didn’t understand the question, but rather that he didn’t understand the words themselves. His mannerisms were so strangely childlike they left Sue perplexed.

  “My name’s Seurat. I’m in the service of Grand Duke Valcua. As you’re in his domain, I take it you know who that is, right?”

  “Val. . . cu . . . a?” the man murmured. His features, handsome enough to rival D’s, suddenly changed.

  Seurat gasped in astonishment.

  The man who stood there wore Valcua’s face.

  “But you—I mean, milord is .. .”

  Even realizing it was a duplicate, Seurat couldn’t help but speak respectfully to anyone wearing Valcua’s face.

  The man—Valcua Two for lack of a better name—raised his right hand in a rather nonchalant gesture. In it he held an iron rod.

  “Stand back, Sue,” Seurat said, reaching out one mighty arm to grab her by the collar and pull her back.

  The rod the other man had swung had vanished into thin air. Down at Sue’s feet, a thick, curving line had been drawn.

  Valcua Two drew back his right arm with a strange look on his face. His rod reappeared.

  Seurat stepped forward. Not only did the right hand that gripped his club quake, but the rest of his body did as well. It was like the palsy of a dying man. That he’d made it this far was a miracle.

  Any attacks from outside the ring would vanish, while those from within it would have the desired effect. That was Seurat’s special ability.

  The second Seurat tried to thrust his club, the man with Valcua’s face brought his iron rod down. Seurat’s right shoulder made a strange sound. Sue saw that the man’s rod had gone halfway through it.

  The weapon hadn’t vanished.

  Suddenly the right half of Seurat’s body disappeared. Staggering, the giant turned to face Sue. His boulder of a face was etched with a look of great sadness, as if begging her forgiveness.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  And then he collapsed inside his own ring, sending a rumble through the ground.

  As Sue clung to the enormous figure, Valcua Two looked down at her with a vacant expression. There wasn’t a trace of pride in the power he’d wielded, or contempt for his foe, or even pity for the dying. Still looking down at Sue, he stood unmoving for a few seconds, and then suddenly he reversed his grip on the iron rod— wrapping his left hand around it too—and raised it straight up in the air.

  The man made a smooth stride forward. Even though he entered the ring, he didn’t disappear. If he brought the rod straight down, it would take Sue right through the nape of the neck.

  Valcua Two didn’t take aim. He swung his weapon artlessly.

  At that moment, a second miracle occurred. With impeccable timing, Sue slipped to the right. The rod pierced her left shoulder. A heartbeat later Sue realized what had happened, and a scream escaped from her mouth. Her left shoulder and arm had vanished.

  Something like fine, gray dust clouded t
he air for a second. The iron rod was pulled back out.

  A second upset awaited her. With no emotion showing on his face, Valcua Two brought his rod down. It stopped halfway. His left side had a sword sticking out of it.

  Valcua Two spun around. The blade had slashed into him at an angle, and he left it there as he turned and saw D behind him.

  “Valcua?”

  Although the hoarse voice spoke in a surprised tone, the young man was expressionless, with looks so good they’d shake a stone.

  “No, it ain’t him. I don’t know his name, but he’s got spunk.”

  They were dealing with someone who had Valcua’s face. It would have been hard not to comment on it.

  D removed his sword. Valcua Two’s hand grabbed hold of it. The blade sliced through the man’s fingers, but they didn’t fall off. His wounds closed instantaneously. The first blow hadn’t been a thrust, but rather a horizontal slash that had started at the right side of the base of his neck.

  “Your sword ain’t working,” the hoarse voice said.

  Valcua Two’s eyes looked vacantly in its direction. A silvery flash zipped through the middle of his neck, then immediately faded. His head should’ve gone flying—but it remained right where it belonged. The palm of his right hand rested against the top of his head. The instant D’s blade had passed through him, Valcua Two had held his head down with lightning speed.

  As the man squared off against that Hunter of heavenly beauty, behind him Sue groaned, “D ..

  “D,” Valcua Two said, his expression changing as he spoke the name.

  “I’ll be!” the hoarse voice exclaimed with admiration.

  The man who now stared at D was another D.

  A glint of black raced out, and a silvery flash met it. The instant the iron rod and the sword came together with a dull thud, the rod was chopped in two. At the same time, D was sent flying backward.