When the woman in the white dress awoke again, the stars would be twinkling forlornly above her. It was a horribly lonesome image.
__
Although they had to gain as much distance as they could by daylight, their foes’ attacks would likely become more intense. D regarded the battle the previous night as a mere test of his strength. The real battle was still to come. At any rate, there was a small village a little over a mile ahead.
On entering the village, D and the blue carriage were the focus of the fearful stares of the inhabitants. A young man of inhuman beauty with a gorgeously luxurious carriage—everyone knew what that meant. Whispers of Noble, Noble flooded the morning street, spreading like ripples on a pond. Yet those who looked up at D on his steed got a rosy flush to their cheeks. Irrespective of age or sex, his heavenly beauty was enough to enrapture anyone.
In no time, D and the carriage had pulled into the blacksmith’s on the edge of town. In point of fact, the blacksmith had a workshop the size of a small factory. Not only did he produce and repair farm equipment, but he also sold automobiles and basic electronic devices. To conduct the latter sort of business, it was critical to have suppliers in the Capital.
On hearing D’s request, the smith’s eyes went wide.
“Half of that we can do here, but the other half is impossible. You’d need one of them ‘traveling smiths’ for dangerous riggings like that.”
“How long would you need for the half you can handle?”
“Let me see . . . Roughly two days.”
“Kindly do it in one.”
“In that case, I’m gonna have to ask you for one hell of a fee,” the blacksmith chuckled, a despicable grin plastered to his face.
“How much?”
The amount the smith quoted was five times the going rate.
“Fine,” D said with a nod.
As he surveyed the other man’s handsome visage, the smith’s grin was bisected by a stark flash. His greasy face had been split from the forehead, along the nose, and right down to the tip of his chin. Although only the skin had been broken, it was incredibly painful. Still, the smith couldn’t move an inch.
The gorgeous young man before him had been transformed into another creature entirely. And from him an unearthly aura blustered.
“There’s your special bonus,” said D. “I’ll pay you the regular rate right away.”
“Ye-yes, sir,” the blacksmith stammered weakly. He was stained with red from his face to his chest. “My regular rate will be good enough. I won’t charge you a bit more than what I’ve got coming. I promise you that.”
“I’ll pay you double,” said D.
“Huh?!”
“With you doing two days’ work in one day, that’s fair compensation.”
The blacksmith’s expression made it clear he had no idea what was going on. Some time after D had walked off, he finally muttered, “There’s just no telling what a guy that good looking is likely to do.”
__
†
The villagers watched with unsettled looks on their faces as showers of sparks and pale electromagnetic discharge shot from the blacksmith’s windows all day long.
“They’re still at it. Looks like they’ll be working through the night,” said the man gazing off through the darkness before he returned from the terrace to the room with a thin grin on his face. He was on the second floor of the village’s only inn. Though the blacksmith’s shop was nearly a mile away, apparently the man had eyes as sharp as a hawk’s, and even by the dark of the moonless night he could see as clearly as if it were midday.
There were four other figures in the room. Reclining on the sofa, seated on the floor, or leaning against the wall, they varied widely in dress and appearance, but each had a disturbing air that made it plain they were no ordinary travelers. Each had arrived alone during the past hour.
“What do you suppose they’re doing?” asked a tall man wearing a brown cape. He was the one D had called Crimson Stitchwort.
“Rigging up some nasty surprises for the lot of us, I wager. I suppose they’re adding something to the carriage,” said the man with the darkness-piercing eyes.
To that, another man in priestly vestments remarked, “We’ll simply have to ask the blacksmith when we set out tomorrow. However, if we wait, it could prove problematic.”
“Should we go toss down the gauntlet before they’ve had a chance to finish their work, then? But who’ll go? They’ll be up against the same guy who took out Tunnel,” said the man who’d come in from the terrace. His face was strangely narrow, and he was dressed in a needlessly restrained wardrobe of black.
“I want no part of it,” said a man who’d been in one corner of the room the whole time staring off into empty space. His right hand was in front of his face and his left was held up by his chest. Though it looked like he was tugging on something, there was nothing to be seen.
“Lost your nerve now that he’s seen through your tricks once, Mario?” the man with the narrow face inquired sarcastically.
In response, Mario pulled down the collar of his yellow coat. The nape of his neck had been split more than an inch.
“How did you get that?” asked the man in priestly garb.
None of the others seemed concerned by it. Before taking this job, each of these men had been wounded as badly countless times and had survived far worse injuries.
“I knew he used throwing needles. I even saw his hand go up. Yet I still wound up like this. But that’s not the real problem. Watch this,” Mario said, spreading his fingers in front of his eyes.
As the others watched, blank looks took over their faces.
“I still don’t have complete movement in them. Why do you think that is? His sword cut my puppets in two. And I could feel it in my hands!”
Now the men looked at each other. They were all competent Hunters gathered from across the Frontier. However, they were only disquieted for a second before they all smiled thinly.
“In that case, why don’t we all hit him at once? All but the cowards, that is,” said the man whose eyes pierced the night.
The reaction was unexpected—everyone looked rather perturbed.
“If we do that, we’ll have to split the reward, too.”
They all nodded at the remark from the man in the vestments.
“If we’re going to move against them, then daylight’s definitely the time to do it. You said something about throwing down the gauntlet, but that fellow certainly is a force to be reckoned with. Plus, the baron’s bound to be up by now.”
“So we’re just supposed to sit on our hands and let them prepare their countermeasures?”
“No, I’ll go give them some trouble.”
“What?!” cried one as the eyes of all the others bulged in their sockets.
“You trying to jump to the head of the line? D might be fair game, but I thought we already settled on the order we’d get a crack at the baron,” Crimson Stitchwort protested.
The man in the vestments replied softly, “Relax. I’m simply going to make them stop working. Besides, my turn is the one after next. I would think I’m entitled to at least go and survey the target.”
The men in the group exchanged glances. An unsettled air filled the room.
But onto the deathly still waters of that silence plopped a sudden droplet.
“That’s fair enough,” said the fifth man, drawing the attention of the entire group.
He was the youngest of them all. He didn’t appear too different from D or the baron. His countenance was oddly pale—like paraffin. Up until now he hadn’t said a word, but had merely leaned back against the wall. The reason he’d been ignored wasn’t because he was disagreeable or less than impressive, but because even a vicious mob like them found him somehow unsettling.
“Go, then. But before you do, listen to the next set of instructions.”
There were cries in the affirmative as they all turned to face him.
__
II
__
It was roughly a month earlier that a strange request had reached these men scattered across the Frontier. A miniature communication disk had told them, You are to assemble in certain ruins in a southern Frontier sector. I would like you to exterminate a young Nobleman while he’s on the road. Details as to your compensation shall be discussed later. In addition to yourself, I am summoning six other Hunters. As proof that this is no fool’s errand, you should be receiving sufficient funds to cover your traveling expenses to the ruins at about the same time this disk reaches you.
Renowned professionals of proven mettle, these men would’ve normally sneered at the thought of teaming up with anyone else, yet all of them complied with the request because of the almost indescribable regality of the voice on the disk, and because of the sum for traveling expenses that’d surely arrived slightly before or after the message. Even if they were to use the most extravagant means imaginable to travel to the ruins and back, that sum would’ve been enough to make the trip more than ten times over. To put it in simpler terms, it was basically equivalent to what each of them earned in a year.
At the ruins waited an old man in black who was vaguely reminiscent of an insect. His dried and shriveled lips had issued a request that they assassinate a certain Noble. Neither the reason for the assassination nor the name of their client was made clear. Though they normally might’ve tried to extort that information from the old man, he had an unearthly air about him that hardly left any of them inclined to do such a thing. The compensation would be enough to buy up half a Frontier sector. As proof that this was no empty promise, the old man had given each of them an ingot of a precious metal the Nobility alone had been able to synthesize.
“That alone is valuable enough to allow you to live in luxury for the rest of your days. You can take it and leave without accepting the job, for all we care. However, it goes without saying that a professional of the very highest order has ambitions that are also of the highest order. I don’t imagine any of you are so simple minded you could turn a blind eye to the rest of the reward. It shall be up to you to decide how the work is carried out. Whenever necessary, instructions shall be relayed to one of your number. The target’s location and description will be given to you presently. We wish you luck.”
And then, as if suddenly remembering something, the old man looked up and said, “Ah, yes, there’s one thing I neglected to mention. Although only six of you have gathered here, there is in fact one other. A rather unusual individual and somewhat difficult to reach, but I finally managed to make contact this very day. Though they shall be operating independently, it appears they’ll take the job. The name is Shadow. Even I myself don’t know their sex. But don’t forget that you have an additional colleague.”
And then the old man crumbled on the spot. The eyes of the six assassins were met by black clothes filled with pale gray dust and a miniature disk that contained both the whereabouts and a description of the Noble—Baron Balazs.
They promptly went into action.
What would they do? How would they kill him? Would they go after him one at a time, or all at once? Based on their characters, individual strikes would be most likely, but they knew better than anyone that a Noble’s power left little margin for error.
They talked the matter over right then and there. While they were all in this together, the flames of hostility were hardly hidden in their fiery discussion. And then an arrangement was reached—they agreed there would be no trying to steal a march on the others, but to avoid the kind of equal split they all despised, they would attack in turns based on a strictly maintained order decided by a drawing. While they were free to attack solo, if the person in question sought and received additional aid, the reward would be split evenly by the attackers in the event of a successful completion.
And having reached this accord, the six Hunters raced off to Baron Balazs’s location . . . but the baron wasn’t there. What they beheld was naught save the melted ruins of a castle. As a result of an exhaustive search, word had reached them just ten days earlier that the young Nobleman was headed to Krauhausen. What’s more, that knowledge was accompanied by frightening information. The Noble had been out looking for D.
D’s name was quite familiar to them. Though these murderers had absolute confidence in their own abilities, each of them realized at that moment that they had to hit the Noble before he met up with D, and they began hatching plans to that effect. The results had been disappointing—they were too late. Having allowed the two to meet, Tunnel had taken his turn and was slain quite handily, while Mario—who’d aided him—escaped with minor injuries. And he was afraid to be involved in the next attack.
__
While it was unclear when the pale man in black had come into possession of the miniature disk player, he pulled it out of his raiment and set it on the table, where it began to play back a hoarse tone familiar to all. It was that of the old man.
It would seem you’ve been having a difficult time of it, he remarked.
Everyone grew tense at these words.
The voice continued, Allow me to share his destination with you. It’s the village of Krauhausen. Though any number of roads lead there, if you follow him for a while, you’ll soon know his route. Lie in wait for him along the way. Some gear that should be of use to you has been left in Shabara Canyon. Very well—good luck.
His last words were threaded with laughter.
The five conspirators looked at each other. Their expressions were indignant.
“Well, then,” the elderly man in priestly garb said to the others, but no one replied.
__
At the blacksmith’s workshop, everyone from the smith to his apprentices was hard at work. And each and every face was marked by awe and surpassing terror.
With the setting of the sun, the door to the blue carriage opened and a caped figure alighted. Without ever seeing his gorgeous features, it was easy enough to imagine his true nature. What’s more, the young man who was there to greet him was even more inhumanly beautiful.
“What are they doing?” Baron Balazs asked D as he faced the workshop.
“Rigging up something in case of attacks,” D responded coolly.
“So, to protect myself from the blows of lowly humans, I’m forced to enlist the aid of other lowly humans?”
“Arriving safely is the primary concern.”
The baron’s lips twisted.
The craftsmen all turned to look at him in unison. They’d felt his ghastly aura.
“I believe I’ll take a stroll out in the night,” the baron remarked as he started to walk toward the door.
“Don’t forget your promise,” said D.
“You have my word,” the baron replied with one hand raised as he stepped out onto the darkened street.
“Still as proud as ever of his Noble blood. Someone like him could cause problems for the humans,” a hoarse voice remarked from the vicinity of D’s left hip. “You think it’s safe to let him go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm. His foes are nearby, too.”
“I realize that. So does he.”
“Oh, you mean to tell me this arrangement isn’t based on mutual respect? Hmph, that’s just great!” the voice said in a sarcastic tone.
D’s fingers creaked into a fist that cut off the voice.
But then another voice rang out.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” the smith shouted angrily.
Before him, a middle-aged craftsman with a vacant look on his face was cooling a piece of melted iron.
“Well, I was just—”
“You put that in the damn water right now and you’ll make air pockets in it. If you can’t get the goddamn fundamentals right after ten years working here, I’ve gotta wonder what you bums—”
Right before the smith’s bulging eyes, the craftsman foggily replied, “Well, I just kinda thought that was what I should do.”
“What?!” the smith bellowed, wrath on his face as he grabbed the front of the craftsman’s shirt. “Listen, I’m not out to help anyone allied with the Nobility. To be honest, I’d just as soon chuck this whole job right out the door. But I’ve already taken it on, so there’s no backing out. We’ll do the best we can. I don’t care who we’re working for, I won’t have any slipshod work or screwing around in my shop. And that includes you. You got that?”
Having lambasted the craftsman, he turned to the rest and said, “You’re all clear on that, right?”
But the second he spoke, there was a massive burst of electromagnetic sparks from the other side of the workshop, accompanied by a scream.
“You damn fool,” the smith said as he rushed over and dragged the injured man away with the help of another craftsman who’d been nearby.
Pale blue lightning had scorched his powerful shoulders and arms.
“How did that happen?” the smith asked the other craftsman.
“This idiot went and turned the voltage up into the danger zone all of a sudden!”
“What?! Why in the hell would you do a stupid thing like that?” he shouted at the man they’d just saved.
His face and chest were horribly charred. His mouth opened a crack, and the thin thread of a voice that he squeezed out said, “Somehow—I thought that was what I should do . . .”
“You, too?! What in the hell—” the smith began to say, but then he froze.
And he wasn’t the only one. The other craftsman and even the molten iron seemed to have been transformed into an icy forest.
D was standing beside the smith.
“You, you’re . . .”
Ignoring his question, D asked the wounded man, “Why did you think that?”
Vampire Hunter D: Pale Fallen Angel Parts One and Two Page 4
