A huge congratulations to Neil Newbon for winning Best Performance at The Game Awards for his portrayal of Astarion from BG3!
And yes I'm back again with more bat drawings >:3c
"Good heavens, we worked so hard to suture your wound, but you kept moving around, so it has reopened."
The doctor said with a bitter expression.
"The bleeding is quite severe... This will require a considerable amount of blood transfusion."
"I shall leave all matters concerning Doctor Wordsworth's treatment to you. In return, please treat him to the best of your ability."
Just then, four SPs on stretchers were being rushed into the treatment room by nurses. Fortunately, none of them seemed to be in mortal danger, though all were reported to be in critical condition. Caterina watched with concern as her faithful subordinates were being carried away, only turning back once the last stretcher was out of sight. Several nurses pushed a bed on castors towards her and she threw them a glance before questioning the doctor.
"So, you say the abdominal wound has reopened... Is further surgery necessary?"
"Absolutely and it must be performed urgently. We have secured an operating theater, so I'd like to start right away... If you'd like, would you care to accompany us, Your Eminence?"
"Well, let's see... Ah, Professor, can you hear me?"
At the doctor's question, Caterina's expression flickered with a hint of hesitation before dropping her gaze to the bed that was passing by. She peered down at the gentleman whose eyes had opened a little and inquired in a gentle voice.
"How are you feeling? Does the wound hurt?"
"Well, if I must describe this in a single phrase... I feel as though I'm ascending to heaven..."
Professor uttered a rather uncharacteristically straightforward joke and offered a faint, wry smile. Then, his expression shifted slightly, and he reverted to his usual composed self.
"But enough of that, it's getting late. You need not concern yourself with me, Your Eminence. I'm not a child so I don't need you to accompany me."
"You haven't changed, have you?"
Caterina responded with a faint smile as her subordinate tried to shoo her away. Then, as if remembering something, she placed the cane she had been holding into his hand.
"Very well, I shall take my leave. But before I go, I'm returning this to you... Your cane."
"Ah, how very kind of you. Now I may escape this place with ease."
The nurses looked horrified at the gentleman's words as he accepted the cane with great care.
"May I ask you something, Doctor Wordsworth?"
The beautiful woman pointed at the cane and inquired in a slightly hesitant tone.
"That cane... Did you truly believe I was going to press this switch just now?"
"Well, how do I put this?"
After a brief moment of silence, Professor shook his head.
"Unfortunately, Your Eminence, that question is meaningless, therefore I cannot answer it. That is because-"
"Now, now, mister, please be quiet. There is a hole in your abdomen. Air will leak out."
Professor's voice, which was about to reply in a dramatic manner, was cut off. The nurses had thrusted a thick IV needle into the noisy patient's arm. Ignoring his screams, they began to push the bed away.
On the other hand, the cardinal, who stood there with a look of disappointment, was greeted by a carefree voice.
"Lady Caterina, Sister Loretta has made contact."
Kaya, who had successfully dealt with Hundert Gesichter, returned briskly.
"She wants you to return to Palazzo Spada immediately. There's a long-distance message from Sister Kate in Vienna. So..."
"I understand."
Caterina sighed, perhaps relieved that she didn't have to hear Professor's answer, or perhaps from sheer exhaustion. She watched the nurses push the gentleman away and responded to the girl with just a sidelong glance.
"I understand. I'll return as soon as possible. Sister Kaya, please convey my reply to Sister Loretta."
"Yes... Ah, but is this truly fine, Lady Caterina? Will you not accompany Professor?"
"It matters not. There is nothing I can do for him by staying here."
The cardinal answered as she continued to watch Professor's bed recede down the hallway.
"Ouch... Please handle the injured with care. I'm seriously wounded. Please treat me with a little more affection, won't you..."
Hearing the gentleman's voice protesting to the nurses from the corner of her ear, Caterina turned around slowly, but without hesitation.
"I can't do anything for him if I stay here, so I shall at least attend to my duties… Sister Kaya. I'm returning to Palazzo Spada. Please check if car arrangements have been made."
"How utterly cold of you... I have been searching for you this entire time, Your Eminence."
"Damn it!"
By the time his viscous voice reached her eardrums, Caterina had already lunged at the elevator control panel. She pressed every floor button within reach, attempting to halt the elevator at the nearest possible floor. However...
"Whoa! Not so fast, Your Eminence. Don't do that."
Before the doors could open, Galeazzo had withdrawn his hand from beneath his coat. The muzzle of an automatic pistol was aimed squarely at the control panel and the former captain of the private guard pulled the trigger without hesitation. As sparks flew violently, the doors that had been opening came to a stop, leaving only a narrow gap.
"You are going nowhere, Lady Caterina... I have something I want Your Eminence to hear in detail."
After replacing the empty magazine, Galeazzo narrowed his eyes with glee. He pressed the still-smoking muzzle of his gun against his former superior's chest and twisted his lips.
"That's right, I'm not letting you go... Do you understand?! It's all your fault, you vixen! Because of you, I lost everything! My family has disowned me, I was stripped of honor and position! What are you going to do about it, huh?"
"Y-Your Eminence!"
By the time Professor's feeble voice reached her, a heavy blow struck Caterina's knees. Galeazzo's military boots had kicked the cardinal, the crushing blow nearly shattering her joints.
"Ugh!"
However, Caterina endured the pain. On the surface, she remained calm, but in reality, she was mustering every ounce of her being to steady her faltering knees and remained silent, her razor-colored eyes glaring menacingly at her assailant.
"What's with that look?"
The beautiful woman's gaze, dripping with contempt, seemed to have delivered a severe blow to Galeazzo's pride. The former captain exhaled, his breath which reeked of alcohol was akin to the flames of a venomous dragon. Perhaps he was also on drugs. He grabbed Caterina by the collar with his well-trained, yet strangely twitching fingers.
"You filthy bitch... How dare you make a mockery of me, you vixen! Do you know your place and value your life? Beg for your life, I say! Damn it! Get on your knees right now! Kneel and beg for your life!"
The hoarse, angry voice was overlaid by the shrill sound of tearing fabric. The young man, who was screaming hysterically, had ripped the beauty's blouse with his hand. Yet the cardinal made no move to cover her exposed skin. She merely pursed her lips slightly and the chill in her gaze intensified.
"Damn it, don't look at me like that! Do you understand?! This whole mess is entirely your fault! I'm an elite! I'm born of a different class to those maggot-like creatures crawling out there! And for a woman like you... What's with those eyes?! Kneel! Hurry up and say you are sorry!"
"Good grief, what a horrid little boy."
The young man bellowed, foam flying from his mouth, but the voice that reprimanded him was not Caterina's.
"Unfortunately, I still don't fully grasp the situation, but one thing is certain: you have no right to call yourself an elite, boy. The qualifications for standing above others lie not in their origins, but in pride and dignity... Just like this lady before you."
"What the hell, old man! Don't butt in!"
The cardinal merely continued to glare coldly at the young man. Beside her, Galeazzo yelled at the gentleman who stood up shakily from the cart. He slammed the muzzle of the gun he had been aiming at Caterina down onto the older man's head and screamed hysterically.
"You are pissing me off! I'll kill you, old man!"
"Stop it, captain!"
When a groan escaped the gentleman's lips after being struck on the head, a flicker of agitation finally crossed the cardinal's expression. She clung to Galeazzo's arm, stopping him from hitting the Professor who had fallen back into the cart.
"It's me you hate... Stop taking it out on him!"
"Hah! Well now, are you more worried about this old man than begging for your own life?"
The young man curled his lips in triumph at finally discovering the winter queen's weakness — or rather, the means to wound her pride. His eyes narrowed and gleamed with a slimy sheen.
"What's this, vixen? You were having an affair with this old man? You filthy slut! Very well then, I shall kill him first! Watch closely!"
"S-Stop it!"
The cardinal, who had remained silent despite the humiliation, finally lost her composure. She tried to seize Galeazzo's gun, which was being pointed at Professor's head, but it was a foolhardy move. She was easily knocked away by the overwhelming difference in strength.
"Wait for it, you are next after this old man, vixen."
Casting a disgusted glance at the stumbling cardinal, Galeazzo placed his finger on the trigger.
"I'll torment you thoroughly, then carve your body to pieces."
The young man's voice, triumph with sordid delight, suddenly fell silent.
What had happened? Just as his finger was about to squeeze the trigger, it went limp instead and the gun fell from his grasp. From Galeazzo's gaping mouth, a crimson mass spilled forth.
"U-Ugh..."
"Don't mess with someone else's prey without consent, you monkey."
A deep voice came from the other side of the half-open doors, overlapping with the sound of blood spilling from the former captain's mouth and his ragged breaths. A strong arm thrusted through the gap — the owner of the clawed hand that had pierced Galeazzo's back and skewered his heart — snorted with utter contempt.
"The right to kill that old man is mine...Get it? Now, begone."
"…"
The former captain's eyes rolled back, and his body convulsed violently – very likely an instant death. As the corpse, with its heart impaled, collapsed while spewing blood and splattering crimson droplets, the assailant behind it was already forcing the elevator doors open with overwhelming strength.
"Well, well, well. I've been looking for you, you naughty little kittens."
Beyond the opened doors, a towering shadow stood in the dimly lit hallway lined with doors, grinning delightfully. It seemed all the burns had already healed. The grinning figure caressing his flawless bald head, was none other than the vampire, Kaspar.
"You dare disfigure my beauty not once but twice?! You Vatican pigs! Are you prepared to be skinned alive?"
"Damn it!"
Caterina immediately lunged for the cane leaning against the cart. She pointed its tip, which had a small flamethrower nozzle, at the vampire.
"Do not come any closer! If you do, I will show you no mercy!"
"Oh, how brave, for a mere Terran."
Impressed by the cardinal's threat, Kaspar stroked his bald head as if in admiration. However, the next instant, he vanished like a gust of wind.
"The true protector of mankind, the paragon of the clergy... But can the same be said of you now, Duchess of Milan?"
"Huh?!"
Caterina's face twisted into a grimace as the enemy reappeared again with a jeer. Kaspar, who stood there with a smirk, had pinned down the injured man who was supposed to be lying in the cart — Professor.
"Doctor Wordsworth?!"
"Hehehe, well then, what are you going to do now, Duchess of Milan?"
The cardinal's trembling cane, a clear sign of her agitation, caught Hundert Gesichter's eye. He curled his lips in amusement, baring sharp canine teeth in a sneer.
"Are you going to burn me along with your subordinate? Well, my speed is on a whole different level from you Terrans so I guess the old man will die alone, wouldn't he?"
"I don't mind dying at all, but could you at least stop calling me old man?"
The feeble voice was not Caterina's.
Professor, who had been pinned down, muttered in a voice tinged with resentment.
"I'm still in my thirties, this hurts me deeply. Ah, and you are underestimating this Albion gentleman a tad too much, Mr. Vampire. Do I look like a fool who would die alone? Your Eminence, would you kindly press the second and fourth switches simultaneously? That will activate a lethal weapon that is only effective against vampires."
"What?!"
Kaspar's eyes widened at the smug voice as Caterina pressed both switches as instructed. Immediately after, a small, dull silver orb shot out from the elevator into the hallway.
"Gah! What the hell is this?!"
It wasn't exactly fear of the term "lethal weapon", but Kaspar swiped at the high-speed silver orb's trajectory with his claws. He roared with laughter as the "lethal weapon" was knocked down into the hallway with ease.
"Hah! What is this? How is this 'lethal', you useless old man! If you are going to deceive me, you should have done it better... What?!"
It was at that moment that his loud laughter turned to a scream. Immediately after being knocked down, the shattered silver orb spewed forth a massive number of threads. They spread out like smoke and entangled the vampire who had the Albion gentleman locked in his arms.
"T-This is..."
The vampire screamed as he struggled to shake off the viscous substance that clung to him like a spider's web, stubbornly adhering his massive body to the wall.
"What is this?! You old fool! What the hell is this?!"
"This? This is a special sticky trap I developed. These unique viscous threads are made of aromatic gelatinous material and impossible for even your monstrous strength to tear apart. Checkmate, Mr. Vampire. With this, you won't be moving for a while."
The dying gentleman beamed proudly at his creation that had bound both the vampire and himself to the wall. Then, amidst heavy breaths, he turned to regard his superior.
"Your Eminence, now! Burn this thing to a cinder while you still can!"
"Huh?!"
Caterina's face stiffened at Professor's unexpected words — and rightly so. The gentleman told her to "burn this thing to a cinder" but that would mean reducing himself to ashes as well. Surely the Professor wasn't so clueless as to not realize that.
However, Professor continued to exhort the beautiful woman who was still standing there, frozen stiff.
"What are you dawdling for, Your Eminence?! These threads are a prototype, they won't hold much longer! They will start to decompose once they absorb moisture from the air. Hurry before that happens!"
"You… You fool!"
Kaspar shrieked at the Terran who was clinging to him while yelling at his superior. Still struggling desperately to break free from the sticky threads that even a Methuselah's superhuman strength couldn't snap, he raised his voice, hoping it would reach the cardinal, who was still standing there clutching the flamethrower, rather than Professor.
"If you do that, you'll take us both down, you old fart! Spare a bit more thought before you speak... Besides, aren't you Sforza's important subordinate? There's no way that woman would sacrifice you!"
"Someone like you will never understand our relationship."
Professor flatly denied his enemy's claim, then smiled softly. He murmured calmly, as if admonishing the vampire — No, the cardinal.
"Trust isn't just about being clingy. Sometimes, trust is carved with a blade... If we don't defeat you here, you will kill us both. Wouldn't that be a pointless death? If it comes to that, we should at least choose a path where one of us survives. It's precisely because she can make such a choice that I chose to serve her with all my talent. If Your Eminence is unable to do this, then you are no longer worthy of my respect."
"S-Stop, Caterina Sforza!"
A strangled scream escaped Kaspar's throat as the cardinal's finger, after hearing the gentleman's words, moved to touch the switch on the cane. The cane, which had been shaking as if mirroring her hesitation, stopped moving abruptly and she let out a furious scream.
"I-I understand! I'll give up on you! So-"
"What are you doing… Shoot us quickly, Your Eminence!"
The dying gentleman's voice rang out even louder than the vampire's.
He yelled at the cardinal, who remained motionless with his cane raised, with the expression of a father reprimanding his daughter.
"You are Caterina Sforza, aren't you? If so, you must shoot!"
"You are quite right, Professor."
A pale, beautiful face responded to the gentleman's words.
Without hesitation, she pressed the switch as a faint smile formed on her lips.
"It is as you say. Sacrifices should be kept to a minimum. That is the path one who stands above others should choose."
"S-Stop! Stop it... Huh?!"
A spurt of pale blue flame erupted from the cane, but when Kaspar's eyes followed the path of that searing light, they widened as if he had witnessed something unbelievable.
The flame did not engulf the vampire nor the gentleman. It went for a small hole in the ceiling — a sprinkler.
"W-Why?!"
Half a breath later, artificial rain began to pour down like a waterfall. Professor groaned, staring dumbfoundedly at the viscous threads that had dissolved instantly upon contact with water. Though his body was freed from the vampire's restaints, the exertion was likely too great for him to stand upright. Bracing himself against the wall, he forced out a voice while struggling as to not fall to his knees.
"Why, Your Eminence... Why..."
"Professor, your point is certainly valid."
Releasing her finger from the switch on his cane, Caterina smiled faintly. As she stepped out of the elevator into the hallway, she declared with a solemn expression, like a queen attending her coronation.
"Your statement is indeed correct. I might not be myself if I couldn't shoot back there — But I'm also not myself if I cannot risk my life for a subordinate in peril. Deputy enforcer Professor, I shall save you."
"Oh? How so?"
A malicious sneer overlapped with the cardinal's powerful words. Kaspar's lips curled upwards as he flicked the viscous substance off his massive frame.
"You foolish woman... How could a puny Terran monkey like you possibly defeat the splendid and invincible me!"
"I never claimed I could 'defeat' you, nor did that thought ever crossed my mind, vampire."
The vampire raised his bulky arms over his head, as if boasting about his newly regained freedom.
Caterina's icy, sword-like gaze pierced him as she twisted the knob on the cane, opening the flamethrower nozzle to its maximum and raised the tip once more.
"I only said I will save my subordinate."
"What?!"
Kaspar's voice, which sounded like a scream, erupted the moment Caterina pressed the switch.
To his eyes, it seemed as though his surroundings were suddenly shrouded in white mist. The droplets from the sprinkles had been vaporized by the flamethrower, instantly forming a thick smoke screen that filled the hallway.
"Now... Over here, Professor!"
Ignoring the roars of the startled vampire, Caterina moved forward in accordance with the number of steps she had measured in advance and grabbed the hand of the gentleman who had slumped to the ground. She lent him her shoulder to help him stand and attempted to steer him towards the nearest staircase.
"Hurry! Hurry... Ah!"
"I won't let you get away, vixen!"
The cardinal, who was staggering forward, suddenly jerked violently backwards — With a roar, an arm shot out from the other side of the mist and seized her luxurious blonde hair. Then, a clawed hand struck her beautiful face. Gazing down at Caterina, who had fallen with the wounded man slung over her shoulder, the bald vampire sneered triumphantly.
"Hehehe, what a pity, Terran... Your aim was good, but a tad too late. The fun ends here. Are you prepared?"
"Prepared? Prepared for what?"
Still lying on the ground, Caterina shifted her body towards the stairs as if to shield her subordinate, then raised her gaze. Her razor-colored eyes gleamed sharply as she wiped her cut lip with the back of her hand.
"You are the one who should prepare yourself, vampire... And no, it was not too late. Everything went according to plan."
"Huh?"
Even in the face of death, this woman remained arrogant. Kaspar was more appalled than angry at the cardinal's haughtiness. With a doubtful expression written all over his stern face, he shouted.
"Plan? What do you mean? Your reluctance in accepting defeat is pathetic, you ugly bitch!"
"It's nothing like that at all."
The fog finally lifted, and the beauty stared coldly at the cussing vampire before casually announcing his defeat and her own victory.
"Because I have bought myself ample time. Now, it is you who will be defeated, vampire... Is that right, Gypsy Queen?"
"Yes, Lady Caterina~"
The girl who had been standing on the staircase landing with an innocent smile immediately spread her fans wide.
The moment the gunshot rang out, Caterina was certain of that.
No, she wasn't the only one. Everyone who witnessed the scene must have thought the same — but the expected shock and death did not occur. Instead, what tickled Caterina's eardrums was a beautiful voice that sounded far too carefree to be the whispers of the grim reaper.
"Are you all right, Lady Caterina?"
The darkness before her was because she had squeezed her eyes shut reflexively. Peeking through narrowed lids, Caterina found a dark-skinned face peering at her.
"Sister Kaya?!"
Kaya Syokka — deputy enforcer "Gypsy Queen" — stood between her and Galeazzo with a large, widespread fan in hand. How was she standing there so calmly though? Galeazzo's gun that was pointed at her was indeed emitting smoke.
"W-What the hell?!"
A hysterical cry preceded several gunshots. Galeazzo's face was contorted as he continued to squeeze the trigger. However, none of the bullets that were fired in rapid succession hit Caterina, let alone Kaya, who was standing right in front of him. The bullets had all been deflected by the fan the girl was dancing with and ricocheted off into the opposite direction with a shrill sound.
"Is that all, big brother[1]?"
Then, Galeazzo's gun fell silent as Gypsy Queen chuckled lightly. The young man's finger was still on the trigger but the automatic pistol, with its bolt opened, only made a hollow metallic sound and no longer spewed out bullets.
"Looks like it's over... Now it's Kaya's turn. Dance, big brother. Kaya will sing."
"D-Don't move!"
The moment the girl snapped her fan shut and stepped forward, Galeazzo hurled the useless weapon at her out of desperation. The girl tilted her head slightly and dodged the whirring projectile — but it was a feint. In that instant, Galeazzo's hand had already drawn out a new weapon.
"Don't move! If you move, this woman dies!"
"AAAAAAAAAH!"
The high-pitched scream was not Kaya's and it certainly was not Caterina's who was watching the situation with clasped hands. It belonged to a young nurse who had thrown herself to the ground to avoid the gunfire.
Galeazzo seized her by the collar and was holding a long, thin cylinder-like object in his hand — a dynamite. There was even a self-made timer and something resembling handcuffs attached to it. He fastened the device to the screaming nurse's wrist and the former noble bellowed in a voice laden with alcohol.
"Stand back! Everyone stand back! Don't come near me! Mark my words, this isn't the only bomb! I've planted identical ones all over this hospital... If I wanted to, I could kill everyone here!"
"Everyone stand back!"
As the former captain of her private guard continued to rave hysterically, Caterina admonished the crowd around her. She knew she shouldn't be wasting further precious time in a place like this. However, as frustrated as she may be, she tried to steer the clamorous and startled civilians away from Galeazzo.
"Everyone, get out of the hospital! Quickly! Hurry!"
"Lady Caterina, you must go to Professor."
There were too many things going on simultaneously. Caterina was at her wit's end, overwhelmed by the situation that was unfolding rapidly at a dizzying pace, but she was saved by the girl in black. Gypsy Queen stood before the young man who was barking threats while using the hostage as a shield and chirped in a beautiful voice:
"A woman's hair is her life, but a man's life is precious too~ Kaya will take care of the bomb. Lady Caterina, please help Professor."
"Eh? But..."
Will she be fine on her own?
However, in the next moment, the beautiful woman nodded and spun around.
"Very well, I'll leave this to you, Sister Kaya. We'll send for reinforcements as soon as my hands are free. Prioritize defusing the bomb over apprehending the perpetrator."
"Yes, Lady Caterina."
It would be a lie to say that she wasn't worried at all.
However, Caterina was neither virtuous enough — nor foolish enough — to be hypocritical when a more precious life was at stake.
The cardinal urged the SPs with one glance and they bolted towards the corridor from whence they came.
The male nurse was startled when the door was thrown open without a knock. His eyes widened as he was just preparing to load folded sheets into the cart.
"You there! Have you seen the doctor who was here? A man named Amalfi from the cardiac surgery department."
Amidst heavy breaths, Caterina fired a question at the round-faced nurse. Then her eyes darted towards the empty bed and added hastily:
"And the patient in this bed... Where did Father William Walter Wordsworth go?!"
"W-Who knows? Neither the patient nor Doctor Amalfi was here when I came in...."
The friendly-looking nurse shook his head as if intimidated by the cardinal's stern demeanor. However, with a raised eyebrow, he seemed to have sensed mortal danger in Caterina's expression. He hurriedly stuffed the chocolate bar he had been eating into his back pocket and added:
"I was merely instructed by the head nurse to clean up the beds in the intensive care unit wards... I'm still a trainee so I'm not allowed to assist patients..."
"Damn it!"
The round-faced nurse continued to ramble on about something, but Caterina was no longer listening.
The head nurse who had ordered him to tidy up must've been "Amalfi". She turned on her heel in preparation to dash out of the intensive care unit.
Suddenly, her eyes were riveted to one spot.
Her gaze was on the cart placed beside the bed. The wheeled cart labeled "Linen Room" was filled to the brim with a tall pile of carefully folded sheets and blankets. However, it wasn't the soiled fabrics that caught Caterina's attention. Below the cart, she spotted wheel tracks on the linoleum floor.
Alvarez seemed to have noticed the abnormality as well.
"Your Eminence, that cart-"
"Yes, I'm aware."
Caterina silenced the whispering SP captain with a look and a gesture. Then, she ordered in a low voice.
"I'll draw the target's attention. Major Alvarez, I'd like you to... Oh?!"
"Huh? W-What's wrong?"
The flustered round-faced nurse asked when he heard the beautiful woman's gasp of surprise. His voice choked up in fear, as if terrified of what new challenge the woman and her black-clad companions might throw at him.
"I-Is something the matter, Signora[2]?"
"No, it's just… The IV tube you're holding. If you put it away like that, the fluid would leak, no? You must close the valve properly."
"Huh? Oh, that's true."
The nurse looked in the direction Caterina was pointing at and his face relaxed with relief. He closed the valve with his plump fingers and began making excuses even though no one asked.
"I-I was careless. Heh~♡ I'm still a trainee so I make mistakes often and get told off by my seniors-"
"Now!"
It was at that moment Alvarez's sharp voice rang out.
At the same time, the elderly SP captain slid his sturdy frame towards the nurse. Of course, the nurse was not his intended target. It was the cart placed next to him that was so heavy that it had left deep wheel tracks on the linoleum floor which made no sense even if it was laden with dirty laundry and cleaning supplies. With all his might, Alvarez pushed the cart away from the bewildered nurse and towards Caterina.
"Secure it, Your Eminence!"
The cardinal leaned forward and somehow managed to catch the cart as it slid towards her with great momentum. The impact caused the sheets and blankets to fall off, but she paid no attention to them. The beautiful woman rummaged through its contents, pulling out a white coat and a pair of men's slacks hidden beneath. When she finally got to the bottom of the cart, she discovered a tall figure lying within with its limbs bent.
"I knew it... Doctor Wordsworth!"
"Tsk!"
"Don't move, you bastard!"
The moment Caterina found Professor lying at the bottom of the cart, the nurse clicked his tongue sharply, and almost simultaneously, Alvarez and the other four SPs drew their automatic pistols from their shoulder holsters.
When the nurse's stubby fingertips extended into sharp, dagger-like claws, the SPs swiftly replaced the ammunition in their pistols from anti-personnel parabellum bullets to anti-vampire silver-tipped bullets. However, by the time they raised their guns and squeezed the trigger, they were a split second too late. The enemy had already attacked.
"H-He's gone! Haste-"
That split-second delay had sealed their fate. The SP who tried to warn others of the nurse who had vanished like a waking dream had been blown away as though he had been rammed by a train. Meanwhile, an IV tube fell to the side of the bed where the nurse had been standing just a second earlier, and the second man in black had his back slammed against the wall.
"Y-Your Eminence, you must flee at once!"
Alvarez urged his superior on while his third – and last - subordinate screamed as he was flung through the window and vanished into the darkness.
"Hurry! While I'm still here to shield you-"
"'Still here', huh? What should I do with you?"
A deep, gruff male's voice overlapped with Alvarez's desperate cries. By then, the elderly SP captain's head had been seized in an eagle-like grip by someone standing behind him.
"Heh, too bad. Time's up~"
"M-Major Alvarez!"
Caterina's warning was drowned out by the gruesome sound of ripping flesh.
Blood spurted onto the beautiful woman's cheek as the elderly major, whose back had been split apart, groaned and collapsed into the pool of his own blood.
"Oh dear, this stinks. As expected, old man's blood is foul so it's no good… Ah, it's a pleasure to meet you, Your Eminence~♡ My name is Kaspar, by the way. Rosencreutz Orden, Rank 6=5. My friends call me Hundert Gesichter[3]."
The perpetrator paid no heed to the fallen victims.
This was likely his true form. He turned his imposing, bald head atop his sturdy frame towards the beautiful woman standing before him and bowed elegantly.
"My apologies for sullying your lovely face... But rest assured, I have no business with you tonight. I'm not here as a member of the Orden, but as a woman with a disfigured face... If you hand over that hideous middle-aged man over there, I shall take my leave immediately~☆"
"What does a vampire want with a member of the clergy?"
Narrowing her eyes deliberately, Caterina stifled a gasp. She continued to look back and forth between the skinhead vampire and the man lying at the bottom of the cart.
"Instead of killing him outright, you went through the trouble of kidnapping him... What exactly is your goal? Are you trying to extract information about the Vatican from him? Or are you using him as a bargaining chip in exchange for Cherubim?"
"Boo! You got that all wrong. Well, to sum it up in one word, it's revenge. You may be unaware of this, but three days ago, that ugly creature committed a heinous act. He committed the grave sin of disfiguring my face!"
The vampire Kaspar spread his arms wide like an actor on stage. In a deep baritone voice, he denounced the man's crimes.
"Your Eminence, could you possibly forgive such a sin?! He scarred a maiden's face, of all things! As a woman yourself, surely you understand how heinous a crime that is? Killing him outright would be too merciful a punishment. No, I must take him somewhere secluded and slowly torture him to death... Oops!"
In an instant, the giant's massive form vanished – only to reappear, blocking the doorway right before Caterine's eyes as she spun around to make a dash for the door.
"Heh, what a pity. Are you trying to outwit me? Non, non. That's simply impossible~♡"
Kaspar waved a mocking finger at the cardinal who had recoiled as if driven by despair and fear. He then sneered at the pale, beautiful woman who was blinking vigorously.
"I thought I might spare you if you behaved yourself, but now I'm afraid I must kill you… Though, well, perhaps that's fine. To be perfectly honest, I find women like you physically repulsive. I mean, in terms of sheer beauty alone, I'm superior, aren't I? Yet you get fawned over by men simply because you're biologically female... It's utterly unbearable."
The moment an ominous tone filled the baritone voice, the sharp claws on Kaspar's fingertips drew an arc. The vampire sauntered towards the cardinal, who stood frozen in silence, while tapping his eerily gleaming claws loudly.
"D-Don't come any closer!"
The vampire's attitude, like that of a cat tormenting a mouse, had perhaps stoked the cardinal's fear. Caterina let out a furious cry as though seized by despair. She hurled everything she could get her hands on at the approaching vampire. IV needles, pillows, a water pitcher, and even a cane that belonged to a certain patient... Yet none of them struck the monster. They missed their target by a large margin, merely staining the walls and floor in vain.
"Now, now, you mustn't do that, Your Eminence. It's indecent to make such a mess of the room..."
The vampire couldn't help but smile wryly at her disgraceful behavior that was unbecoming of "the world's most beautiful cardinal." When she finally stopped, Kaspar shook his head reproachfully.
"It's all right. There's no need to be so frightened, it won't hurt, but I do need to peel off that haughty face of yours. Once it's done, the skin... Well, wouldn't it make a lovely cushion cover? I'm actually really good at sewing."
"Sewing... Ah, how enviable."
It was at that moment when the "Woman of Steel's" voice changed drastically. Her words, which had been trembling with fear up until then, became tinged with frost.
The most talented woman in the Vatican was utterly incompetent not only at sewing, but at all household chores, so her statement may not have been entirely false. However, her beautiful face, like that of a winter queen, no longer held any trace of distraught from before. Casting aside her mask of fear, the cardinal sneered at the monster with deliberate frigidity.
"But, Kaspar... Before worrying about others' faces, you ought to concern yourself with your own."
"Huh?! What's with the sudden- Wait?! Sforza, what exactly are you looking at-"
Hundert Gesichter finally realized that the woman was focusing her gaze on something behind him. He turned around as if drawn by a hook and his face twitched violently the very next second.
"D-Damn…?!"
Kaspar's eyes widened as something was being thrusted at him. It was the cane that Caterina had thrown at him and missed just a moment ago. Grasping it was a middle-aged man who had half-raised himself from the cart that had been left by the doorway. He looked as haggard as a corpse, but his long face was characteristic of Albion nobility.
"W-Wordsworth... Sforza! You bastards planned this from the beginning-"
The next moment, a swirling vortex of pallid light surged through the not particularly spacious intensive care unit ward.
The flames from the flamethrower concealed within his cane mowed the vampire down like the tongue of a fire dragon.
"AAAAAAAAAAH!"
A blood-curdling scream erupted.
Although the vampire avoided a direct hit, the right half of his body had been licked by flames, leaving him writing on the floor. He attempted to extinguish the fire by twisting his body around. Caterina had no time to deliver the final blow. She dodged the flames and sprinted to the cart while calling out to the gentleman lying limply within.
"Let's get out of here while we still can, Doctor Wordsworth! Can you stand?!"
"Ah... That seems to be a tall order, Your Eminence… It appears my wound hasn't fully closed yet."
Lying still, Professor pointed a slightly trembling finger at his abdomen. His wound had reopened, rapidly staining his white pajamas crimson. At this rate, he wouldn't be able to stand, let alone walk.
"Do not concern yourself with me... I want you... Your Eminence... To go ahead."
"Zip it... If you utter such nonsense again, I will sew your mouth shut."
Rebuking the gentleman who gave her a feeble smile in response, Catherine mustered what little strength she had left and pushed the cart. Hearing the screams of the vampire still trying to extinguish the fire behind her, she meandered down the deserted corridor, dragged along by the cart that had begun to move unsteadily.
"So, what is the current situation? Did you receive the message I entrusted to Sword Dancer?"
"Yes... I immediately deployed six enforcers to Vienna."
Caterina answered Professor's feeble question while trying her best to gain as much distance as possible.
"But two of them have gone missing... I'm at a bit of a loss now."
"That's a grave matter. I can't afford to lose consciousness... Ugh!"
"Are you all right, Professor?"
Amidst the violently shaking cart, Caterina called out to the injured man who was groaning weakly. However, she couldn't slow down. The vampire's angry screams still reverberated from the room behind them, but for how long? If that monster really wanted to, they would both be caught in mere seconds. They must escape before then.
"That... There it is!"
Caterina cried out in joy at the sound of a chime up ahead.
At the end of the corridor, the elevator doors opened. If they could get on that, they might be able to escape, but the corridor stretching out before them seemed infinitely long. Would she make it in time? Panting, the beautiful woman ran as hard as she could. Twenty meters. Ten meters. Five meters. But then the doors had begun to close-
"Let me in! Let me in please!"
Caterina shouted desperately at the figure in the elevator. In that instant, the doors which had been closing swung open again.
She made it. The moment she slid into the elevator with the cart, Caterina collapsed, gasping for breath. At the same time, the figure closed the elevator doors. The sound of the moving elevator after a brief delay was akin to a gospel song. Still breathing heavily, the cardinal called out to the injured person inside the cart.
"Are you all right, Professor... Are you still conscious?"
"That person looks like he's in a lot of pain. Are you all right?"
What overlapped with Caterina's question was not the Professor's reply. The Albion gentleman was clutching his abdomen with ragged breaths. Gazing down at Caterina, who was kneeling beside Professor, the other occupant in the elevator questioned.
"You seemed to be in quite a hurry, Lady Caterina? What has gotten you so flustered?"
"Huh?"
The voice that called out her name was laced with venom, like a deadly spider speaking to a small bird that had fled into its lair. Caterina involuntarily flicked her gaze upward and her eyes widened.
"Y-You?!"
"Well, well, what a coincidence, Your Eminence..."
Smiling at her beautiful face that had stiffened with shock and despair, the former nobleman, Galeazzo Visconti returned her gaze with distorted, hatred-filled eyes.
✝ End of Chapter II
[1] Kaya addresses Galeazzo as "big brother" since he is older than her, not because they are related by blood nor is it used as a term of endearment in this setting. It's similar to how we might use "mister" or "sir" to address an older male in general.
[2] "Madam/Mrs." in Italian.
[3] Kaspar von Neumann's codename in the Orden which means "A Hundred Faces" in German. In Japanese, it is written as "King of a Hundred Faces (百貌の王)".
Hi! Not to be a pain, I bet you are very busy but I just wanted to ask if you are planning to post more Trinity Blood RAM translations? I would love it if you did, I'm always looking forward to your updates. I really appreciate your work🌹
Oh hello! I’m so glad to hear that you enjoy my RAM translations, that means a lot to me, thank you truly!❤️
And yes, as you’ve guessed, I’ve gotten very busy as of late but fear not, I don’t intend to disappear forever. I do still feel bad for leaving everyone hanging with an incomplete RAM 6.2 though, I’ll try to release the remaining chapters when I find time again, hopefully soon. Thank you so much for being so patient with me!
"Hospitals, hospitals are fun~♪ You go in sick, you come out dead~♪ Once you're dead, it's okay~♪"
"That's enough, Sister Kaya Syokka. This is a hospital room. Please be quiet."
In a corner of the intensive care unit ward, Caterina Sforza sternly reprimanded the humming that continued incessantly from the front. The source of the humming — a gypsy girl with a dark, deep-set face — shrugged and nodded lightly. After throwing her a glance, Caterina urged the black clad man who was standing nearby to continue his report.
"My apologies for the interruption... So, regarding Sister Kate's report, is it true that two deputy enforcers are currently missing?"
"Yes, Your Eminence. After the incident at the opera house, they were unable to contact Crusnik and Sword Dancer."
The one who answered respectfully was Major Federico Alvarez, squad leader of four SPs[1]. He was well over fifty years old, but he had the best physique of them all. With his back kept straight, the middle-aged veteran resumed his report.
"There is an eyewitness testimony from Gunslinger that Crusnik went to the city with a key witness in the Barcelona incident. As for Sword Dancer, there is no information whatsoever regarding his sudden disappearance."
"So, our combat strength has been reduced by one-third before we could even identify the perpetrator."
The beauty rested her pointed chin upon steepled fingers and sighed deeply. She slid her gaze to the bed beside her and murmured with sorrow.
"I'm failing to understand why six enforcers were dispatched then... What exactly are those two doing?"
"Shall Kaya go to Vienna too, Lady Caterina?"
The girl who was swinging her legs in boredom suggested to the cardinal who was enduring a headache. However, when the beauty tried to reply, she had already given herself the answer.
"Yes, that sounds good. Let's do that. Sing and dance, then kill all the bad people~♪ While we're at it, we'll decapitate the slacking priests, squeeze their blood dry, fry their hearts in a frying pan and feed them to the birds~♪"
"Let's do that another time, Gypsy Queen."
Caterina calmly rejected her enthusiastic proposal.
In truth, she was fearful that the girl might actually mean what she said, but more than that, she was terribly hesitant to deploy her reserve forces at this point. Of all eight existing deputy enforcers, Gypsy Queen was Caterina's only reserve force. With two still missing and one unconscious, sending the girl to Vienna was out of the question.
"I do at least hope you'll be all right, Doctor Wordsworth."
Caterina spoke sympathetically to the gentleman before her who was connected to countless IV tubes.
William Walter Wordsworth — self-proclaimed "Rome's greatest intellectual".
Three days ago, the deputy enforcer, who was injured in a battle with a vampire that attacked Castel Sant'Angelo, was still in a coma. According to the hospital, the emergency surgery was a success, but his condition was still fluctuating despite that. His pale face showed no signs of life and she could only hear faint breathing from his mouth, where an oxygen inhaler had been placed. The pipe and cane placed beside the bed may never be used again.
I am perhaps their grim reaper.
Wearing a blank expression, Caterina suddenly thought to herself.
The one constantly pushing them into danger and jeopardizing their lives was none other than herself. Even now, her subordinate was on the brink of death and yet all she could do was watch in vain. She was perhaps the worst superior or master ever.
Staring at the long-faced gentleman's limply closed eyelids, Caterina sighed again.
"Please come back soon, Professor. It's difficult not having someone to talk to..."
"Uhm, Your Eminence? Are you still with me?"
Alvarez's voice brought the cardinal, who was traversing through a swamp of anxiety, back to reality. It appeared the SP captain had been reporting right from the top. His polite face peered into Caterina's beautiful face as if to confirm the expression of his unresponsive superior.
"Is something wrong? Are you unwell?"
"Oh, no, sorry. It's nothing... Uhm, were we talking about Vienna?"
"No, we're on the situation in Milan right now. It concerns the replacement of Captain Visconti."
The elderly captain modestly corrected his superior. He handed her a file with the Sforza family crest — the snake and sword — engraved in wax and opened it reverently.
"As instructed by Your Eminence, Galeazzo Visconti has been relieved of his duties as commander of Castle Sforza's guards as of yesterday. He has also voluntarily retired from the private army of the Duke of Milan's household. Furthermore, President Lorenzo Visconti has approved of this personnel change. He is extremely sorry about the scandal of his nephew firing a gun at Your Eminence and would like to visit sometime to apologize in person."
"Ah, I'll leave that matter to you, Major Alvarez. Please handle it as you see fit."
Caterina shook her head as if the topic had been about a stray dog that had wandered into her garden. In a split second, she pushed the matter of the nobleman who had thrown away both his career and future into oblivion and steered the conversation back to the main issue at hand.
"The most pressing matter now is Vienna. Inform Sister Kate to keep the reports confidential. If she contacts you, let me know even if I'm asleep. Also, tell her to do everything in her power to find the low-frequency weapon. It's fine to leave the two missing enforcers as they are for now. We must prioritize the disposal of that weapon."
"Understood. I will notify her as soon as I return to Palazzo Spada. By the way, it's almost midnight, I humbly suggest heading back for some rest. You have a meeting scheduled at seven o'clock tomorrow morning with Cardinal Medici. I think you should take care of yourself a little bit more."
"Ah, that's right. That person is strictly punctual. I wouldn't want to be late."
She had rushed to the hospital as soon as she returned to the Holy City from Milan so she hadn't visited the Pope's Palace, let alone seen her brother. Ever since the last Inquisition trial, her relationship with Francesco had been extremely cold, but she had no intention of taking that into consideration at this point. For now, they should at least maintain a ceremonial relationship.
But is this okay? Is it okay for me to be the only one to "take care of myself" when my subordinates are teetering on the edge of life and death? Then again, it's true that even if I stay, there is simply nothing I could do.
"Is something the matter, Your Eminence?"
"Huh? Oh, it's nothing."
Caterina stood up when being questioned again. That's right, there's nothing I can do here. I should get some rest and prepare for tomorrow.
"All right, it's time we head back. Please fetch the car downstairs."
"Going home, going home, the cardinal is going home~♪"
As one of the SPs bowed and left the room, the girl who had been sitting with a bored look leapt to her feet. In contrast to her superior who was looking at the bed reluctantly, she headed towards the door without giving the patient a second glance.
"This is a hospital, everything happens here~♪ People grow up here and get old, get sick and get well, are born and die here — yay!"
"Oh, excuse me."
The ominous but cheerful humming was interrupted by a scream from the girl and a man's voice. The door had been pushed open from the hallway just as the girl reached for the knob. She hit her nose by accident and fell on her bottom. The young man in a white coat on the other side of the door reached out in panic.
"I'm sorry, miss. Are you hurt?"
"Are you the doctor on duty? Doctor Amalfi?"
Caterina called out to the young man who was helping Gypsy Queen to her feet.
"Cardiac Surgeon Dino Amalfi" — her eyes swiftly examined the name tag on the chest of the young doctor who had his hair parted like a playboy.
"Cardiac surgeon... Has the patient's heart weakened?"
"Yes... It seems the bleeding and organ damage were too severe."
The young man cleared his throat, his eyes darting back and forth between the chart he was holding and the priest lying on the bed. He then shook his head solemnly and added.
"Indeed, he was in quite a dangerous situation at one point but he's recovering fairly well now. Don't worry. I will help... No, I'll definitely help him."
"Please, doctor, he's like family to me."
Caterina gave in to the young doctor's confident assurance. She leaned her beautiful face forward, which was unusual for her, and pleaded in a firm tone.
"We may not be related by blood but he is an important family member to me... No matter what happens, please save his life."
"Leave it to me, Your Eminence."
The young man's face flushed at the beautiful woman's words. He closed the chart and nodded vigorously.
"I will definitely save him, even if it means sacrificing my own life. Please rest assured that he is in safe hands."
"Thank you. I'll be counting on you from now on. Let's make a move, Sister Kaya."
Casting one final glance at the bed, Caterina left the intensive care unit.
"Lady Caterina, why is Professor a family member to you?"
The girl beside her suddenly inquired as they descended the stairs and heard a commotion in the lobby.
Caterina wasn't dressed in her usual robes tonight. Opting for a plain suit and a thin coat, she resembled a company president's secretary at first glance. Furthermore, her face was hidden behind large sunglasses, but in Rome, many people were familiar with the beauty of the "world's most beautiful cardinal" and the sister of the Pope. The deputy enforcer gazed innocently at her superior who was heading down the stairs with her head slightly inclined, choosing to avoid the elevator.
"Lady Caterina, your family is no more, right? They all died ten years ago. They were murdered. That's what Kaya heard."
"Yes, my immediate family. But at that time, I met some important people... He was one of them."
Caterina offered a somewhat forlorn smile to the girl who had tilted her head.
In that horrible incident ten years ago, her mother, Lucrezia Sforza and her legal father, the former Duke of Milan, both died. Having lost everything, she inherited the Dukedom of Milan, a legacy of blood, glory and vast fortune. At the same time, she was taken in by her biological father, Gregorio, who was Pope back then, and entered the Holy World.
However, to the girl, who was still in shock from the incident, Rome was practically enemy territory during that time. There were those who bore animosity towards the Pope's biological child who appeared out of nowhere, those who were interested in the enormous fortune and status she had inherited, and those who were simply after her beauty... If fate had not placed several knights by her side back then, the girl would've been physically and mentally torn apart, and "Cardinal Caterina Sforza" would never have been born.
"Since then, Doctor Wordsworth has always been devoted to me in every way. If he had returned to Albion, he would've been rich and successful, but he stayed in Rome and became my right-hand man... It's all thanks to him that I am in the position I am now."
"Hmm... But Kaya doesn't really like that man. He stinks of cigarettes, he's always so arrogant and he's never nice to Kaya."
"Professor's pride is the flip side of his sensitivity... He probably has trouble showing his kindness to others."
Kaya's overly honest opinion made Caterina's smile turn into a bitter chuckle. As the girl turned away, the cardinal placed her hand on her subordinate's hair and continued speaking in a somewhat admonishing tone.
"I admit that his pride can be exhausting for me at times, but Doctor Wordsworth is still precious to me... Huh?"
The beautiful woman who was trying to placate Gypsy Queen suddenly looked away.
Several police cards were parked in front of the entrance, their blue lights flashing. Furthermore, in a corner of the lobby, people were moving about in a hurry.
"What's the commotion about?"
"I'll go have a look, Your Eminence, please wait here."
With a nod, Alvarez hurried into the crowd. He peered around and spoke briefly with one of the onlookers, then returned.
"I don't know the exact details but it looks like a murder case. A doctor was found dead. A forensic examination will begin soon... Your Eminence, we must remain inconspicuous. Let us use the side entrance."
"Agreed."
Caterina nodded when prompted by the captain.
Rome was a safe city but murders were not uncommon. Nevertheless, a group of curious onlookers had gathered in one of the hallways. No one paid any attention to the group heading for the back door.
"He was in such good spirits when he came to work just a while ago. Who could have done this to him?"
"The victim was stabbed repeatedly in the abdomen..."
A few people were being questioned and their words reached the ears of the cardinal, who was walking briskly. She shifted her gaze in that direction and saw a police officer having a deep conversation with a chubby nurse not too far away from the crowd.
"Given the brutality of the method, it was very likely a grudge-driven murder... So, do you have any idea who might have had a grudge against the victim? For example, women-related issues or medical malpractice... Was there anyone who wanted to revenge against the victim?"
"Revenge?! No way, I can't imagine such a thing happening to him!"
The elderly nurse was dabbing her eyes vigorously with a handkerchief, but when the police officer spoke, she raised her voice and shook her head with conviction, like a priest at a confirmation ceremony.
"He was really kind and everyone liked him. I can't imagine anyone having a grudge against Doctor Amalfi!"
"Amalfi?!"
Caterina looked up as if she had been struck by the proper noun that had spilled from the nurse's mouth. However, at that moment, everyone, except for Gypsy Queen who was staring longingly at a chocolate bar in the store, looked tense. Alvarez was the first to react. The elderly SP captain turned his sturdy body around and entered the group of people he had just left behind. Caterina reflexively followed suit.
"W-Who are you guys?!"
Ignoring the officers kneeling on the floor, Alvarez placed his foot under the body of the man lying face down in his underwear. With practiced movements, he turned the body over.
"It's him?!"
Recognizing the bloodless, upturned face, a groan escaped Caterina's lips as though she was the one who had died.
The dead man's membrane had already begun to fall from his vacant, wide-open eyes. A massive chunk of his neck had been chomped off, which was likely the fatal blow. However, it wasn't the tragic sight that made Caterina and the others gasp. The face of the corpse — a young face under that playboy-style parted hair — was familiar to all of them. Yes, it was the exact same man they had just met.
"So, that was... Oh no! Professor!"
"Y-Your Eminence?!"
Caterina turned around as to not hear Alvarez's panicked voice.
Anyone who knew her would be surprised to learn that she was indeed the "Woman of Steel". With a stiff expression of anxiety and fear, she immediately tried to slip past the man in a hunting hat who was standing right behind her.
"Oh? Are you, by any chance, Cardinal Caterina Sforza?"
A voice that sounded extremely exhausted, yet somehow imbued with abhorrent vitality, caught the cardinal's shoulder.
Or rather, to be precise, it was the man's strong hand that grabbed Caterina's slender shoulder. However, what caught her attention was the dark hatred in his voice. The man in the hunting hat stared into the face of the beautiful woman. He was a handsome young man but his expression was hollow and the corners of his lips had curled into the shape of a crescent moon.
"Have you forgotten my face? The face of Your Eminence's loyal vassal... The face of the subordinate you dismissed."
"Captain Visconti?"
Galeazzo Visconti — the nephew of the president of Visconti Enterprise in Milan and the commander of Castle Sforza's guards until the day before yesterday. Caterina was slightly taken aback to see his face, but she immediately raised her hand to pry his fingers away.
"What a surprise. When did you come to Rome? Ah, if you're here to talk about getting a new job, let's do it another day. I'm in a hurry right now..."
"A new job? No, I have no intention of doing that."
Galeazzo pursed his lips nervously and pulled out his right hand which had been in his pocket from the start. He seemed to have consumed a considerable amount of liquor. He exhaled a breath that reeked of alcohol and pointed an automatic pistol between Caterina's brows.
"After all, it's all over for me now. I was not only fired, but with Your Eminence's instigation, I was also disowned by my uncle, abandoned by my family and lost everything... Therefore, Your Eminence, I came here today to give you a taste of your own medicine!"
"Y-Your Eminence!"
Caterina couldn't move as she heard Alvarez's shriek-like cry. With widened eyes, she stared blankly at the flames spewing from Galeazzo's pistol.
He who guards his master will be honored. – Proverbs 27:18
"Yes, as of now, there are no major developments at the Vatican."
Located in the Holy City that never sleeps, the University Hospital of Rome was the largest and only 24-hour medical facility.
Its medical departments were subdivided by specialty, including not only internal medicine, surgery and pediatrics, but also dermatology, cardiology and hematology. There was no other general hospital of this caliber in Rome, let alone in other countries. The number of men and women of all ages who came from all over the country and abroad with various illnesses and injuries, and the number of doctors, nurses, pharmacists, and office staff who provided care and treatment for them, would probably be comparable to the population of a small city.
"Let's see, the only thing that has changed is that Sforza, the frigid woman from Milan, came here the day before yesterday. But, well, that is to be expected. The impregnable Castel Sant'Angelo[1] was attacked by a beautiful assassin and a key witness had been killed in a brilliant and resplendent manner. It's no wonder she came rushing over in a panic... Eh? I failed to kill the deputy enforcer, you say? Well, excuse me, it wasn't me who told the enforcer to leak that information!"
It was close to midnight and the date would soon change, but the lobby was still crowded with people from all walks of life. The room was the size of a baseball field with various reception and payment counters where patients and their companions can be seen collecting their documents and medications. In one corner of the vast waiting lobby, a woman was sitting in the shade of a potted ornamental plant whose thick leaves spread out like an umbrella.
Her bright, primary-colored dress had a plunging neckline and her legs were exposed through the slits all the way up to the base of her thighs. Under her wide-brimmed hat, her face was beautiful in its own way, but her makeup was excessively heavy. Perhaps she was a woman of the night?
It wasn't unusual for a prostitute to be present, of course. Even though it was the middle of the night, the waiting lobby was bustling with patients and attendants conversing in various languages. However, in her case, it was strange that she was constantly moving her lips when no one who seemed to be her companion was in sight. Perhaps she was mentally ill? Even so, there was no hint of madness in her eyes.
"Anyway, don't worry. I'll keep a close watch here... Huh? Don't provoke the Vatican? Don't worry, I know that much. I'll be quiet, so please have some faith in your sister... Well then, brother, love you!"
She ended the conversation with kissing noises and reached up to touch her ear. Perhaps weary from talking to herself for so long, she flicked her earring with her long nails and heaved a deep sigh.
"Phew. You really are a worrywart, brother Balthasar. I wish you'd trust my abilities a little bit more... 'Be quiet' huh? Heh, I'm such a naughty girl, if I say so myself."
The woman muttered with a grin and stood up. She sauntered over to a corner of the wall, flaunting her slender legs, and examined the hospital map hanging there.
"I'm sorry, brother, your sister lied. I'm in Rome now and I have no intention of keeping quiet... Now, where is that damn old man?"
The woman's voice changed drastically.
Not only was it deep, but the rough voice clearly belonged to a man's. Seated on a sofa nearby, a pale-faced young man in a hunting cap looked up in the direction of the woman's gaze, but she was too busy checking the map to even notice. When she spotted the words "intensive care unit" on the map, she let out a raspy voice.
"To injure a maiden's face… Should I let this grudge go? No, I'll grab that pompous old man's guts, tie them in a bow and shove them up his nostrils! Then, I'll scribble on his filthy horse face, rip out his spine and feed it to the dogs!"
"Uhm, is something the matter?"
It was at that moment that a relaxed voice came from beside the woman who was weaving a dark curse and mumbling ominously to herself.
A young man dressed in a white coat stood next to her. He was likely a doctor who came in for the night shift. With his hair parted in a playboy-like manner, he stared at the woman's chest all the way down to her waist as if licking her with his gaze, but his tone remained concerned.
"You've been talking to yourself for a while now… If you're feeling unwell, shall I have a look?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, it's nothing. I just have the habit of talking to myself... Ah, wait, no! That's not it! The truth is that my chest isn't feeling too well..."
At first, the woman tried to shoo the doctor away as though he was a hassle, but she quickly shook her head and denied her own words. Furrowing her thin eyebrows, she frowned seductively and squeezed her breasts together to accentuate their fullness.
"I've had this throbbing pain around here for a while now... Hey, doctor, I wonder if it could be cancer? If you don't mind, could you examine me over there? I'd like you to examine my body at a place where no one else is around~♡"
✝ End of Prologue
[1] The Castle of San Angelo, also known as the Castle of the Holy Angel. In Trinity Blood, it serves as a military fortress under the Vatican.
Apparently, a few drops of brandy had been added into the jelly served for dessert. His body felt peculiarly hot.
In attempt to cool his burning head before getting down to business, Puppeteer wandered out into Turm's courtyard.
"I wonder if Isaak is surprised by now?"
Under the starry sky, the moderately air-conditioned breeze was refreshing.
He approached the window with slightly flushed cheeks and was greeted by a sea of clouds. Illuminated by the moonlight, they shimmered like a sea of silver, but dark gaps were visible here and there, revealing a glimpse of the darkness that loomed far in the distance.
Gazing downwards, the handsome young man chuckled with pleasure.
"You didn't think I'd really set up a trap, did you? Are you going to lecture me again when you return?"
There were faint flickering lights beyond the darkness below and it wasn't just one or two. The lights that scattered like fluttering snow were from the gas lamps illuminating the city of Vienna.
Yes, this was nowhere on Earth. Turm — Eishexe[1]'s castle — floated several thousand meters above Vienna, close to the stratosphere.
The structure, dubbed a "tower" for convenience's sake due to its shape which resembled eight tilted spires lined up on either side, was in fact a radio wave relay facility formerly known as a "stratospheric platform" back in ancient times. It performed communication functions beneath the ionosphere in place of communication satellites.
This ancient relic, which had been floating above Vienna for a thousand years since Armageddon thanks to the power of semi-permanently functioning solar cells and photocatalysts, was discovered twenty years ago by scientists from the Duchy of Ostmark which was on the brink of collapse. The Duchy was invaded by Germanicus and fell to ruin shortly after work began on restoring the relic in question. All records of this floating fortress were erased amidst chaos that followed the war, but the person directing the restoration work had never forgotten its existence.
The female scientist, Countess Helga von Vogelweide, was given the title Eishexe and joined the Orden. At the same time, with the help of the organization, she continued to restore the relic and finally completed it as her own base of operations. It became a literally impregnable Hexenturm[2].
"Well then... I guess I'll get some work done before I head to bed."
Puppeteer snorted as if he had grown weary of watching the night view from a height of several thousand meters and left the window.
Turning on his heel to return to the main block of Turm, he calmly made his way deeper down a corridor filled with sensors and anti-personnel lasers. A shining silver, reinforced titanium door eventually stood before him. After opening the door which was locked behind multiple electronic locks by threading a "thread" through the integrated circuit, the young man sauntered into the room as if entering his own bedroom.
"Hmm, so this is the main control room."
Gazing at the mainframe of the electric intelligence unit humming before him, Puppeteer muttered to himself. It was unusual, but he narrowed his eyes and grinned like a child who has been given a toy that he will soon get bored of.
It did still take him tremendous time and effort to get in here so he figured he might as well have as much fun as possible. Rubbing his hands with a devious expression on his face, he stood eagerly in front of the keyboard.
"So, your betrayal of Magician was indeed a ruse?"
"Well, we knew that much, Lord Puppeteer."
The resounding voices belonging to a man and a woman were filled with waves of malevolent teasing.
"You are, after all, one of Magician's few friends in the Orden."
Puppeteer turned around as a slender figure stepped through the open door and he pursed his lips. Helga, the glamorous beauty accompanied by a young man with light blue hair, took one look at the handsome, slightly embarrassed Puppeteer and cleared her throat in disdain.
"I've had my doubts ever since you approached us... Such a shame, Puppeteer."
"Magician's friend?! Me?!"
The attractive young man groaned. He was more offended by that one remark than by the fact that his sabotage had been discovered, or by the fact that they had been monitoring him. With a pitiful look on his face, which was unusual of him, he protested.
"Countess, I was mentally prepared for some verbal abuse, but you've crossed the line by saying that, don't you think? I'm genuinely appalled."
"But we are serious."
The one who answered in place of Helga, who went silent as if she didn't even think it was worth talking to him anymore, was a young man with light blue hair — Melchior. As usual, he avoided eye contact and muttered with a pout.
"You pretended to betray Magician in order to get close to us and stir things up... It was so obvious. Therefore, I pretended to fall for that so Magician would let his guard down. Get it, brat?"
"First, you call me 'Magician's friend' and now you call me a brat? Really, Pygmalion?"
The young man's voice was strained as he glared at the Methuselah who still had his head inclined. Puppeteer swiftly moved his fingertips and sent "threads" — biological fibers several microns thick — flying towards his opponents. However...
"Eh?"
Just before his "threads" could reach the sneering Eishexe and Pygmalion, they were deflected with ease. It felt as though a gust of wind had blown them off course and they simply melted away.
"My 'threads' were deflected?!"
"Do not underestimate Pygmalion, Puppeteer."
The Ice Witch smirked and jerked her chin at the Methuselah who was still looking away in a sulky manner.
"The three Neumann brothers each have their own unique powers but Melchior's is exceptional[3]. Your 'threads' will not work on him."
"Damn, my legs?!"
A hoarse voice spilled from the throat of the beautiful demon. Puppeteer was too busy panicking over the fact that his "threads" were deflected that he failed to notice the transparent slime that had crept its way up to his legs and wrapped itself around them like a tentacle. By the time he tried to escape by stepping back, the Künstliche Geist "Winter Frau[4]" — a mass of supercooled water controlled by micro machines — had engulfed his entire body.
"You're really annoying. Begone."
The last thing Puppeteer heard was Pygmalion's mocking laughter before darkness devoured his consciousness.
✝ End of Epilogue
[1] Eishexe is Helga's codename in the Orden which means "Ice Witch".
[2] Hexenturm means "Witch's Tower" in German.
[3] It was implied that Melchior could confuse electronic sensors and impede the use of Lost Technology to a certain extent. The full details of his power, however, will forever remain a mystery.
[4] Helga's Artificial Ghost, "Winter Maiden".
"We have confirmed the disappearance of the sound waves — it seems the low-frequency weapon has ceased operation."
"All right. Please stop the noise here too. If I listen to it any longer, my artistic sense will be destroyed."
"I understand. Operators, you heard him. Please turn it off."
Smiling back at the bellowing giant, the wheelchair-bound boy issued an order to the staff in the control room. As soon as the console was turned off, the unpleasant deep bass sound that had filled the opera house began to fade away.
"Armor of sound... You actually thought of this, Father Leon."
The other priest standing by the window called out to the giant who was plucking his nose hairs with a relaxed look on his face.
The control room, which controlled all the sound and stage equipment in the opera house, offered a panoramic view of the entire theater, the Royal Box included. Down below, the ladies and gentlemen, unaware that they had narrowly escaped death, were amidst an uproar as they wondered what the cacophony had been. Gazing down sympathetically at the attendants who were being swarmed by the nobles, Hugue complimented his colleague's ingenuity.
"The low-frequency weapon utilizes sound resonance to begin with. Therefore, all we need to do is give this building a different kind of vibration to shift it out of the low-frequency resonance range... That's something I'd never thought of."
"But it's a trick that cannot be used on anything other than this building."
The tuxedo-clad giant responded annoyedly while picking his ear with his thick fingers. He didn't seem to be fond of small tricks like this. His next words were added without any sense of pride.
"It's true that we managed to withstand this attack, but that doesn't mean we can protect all of Vienna from now on... I won't be able to rest easy until I find and destroy that thing."
"You mean a weapon called 'Silent Noise'? Did you say 'Orden'? Apparently, the terrorist organization that you've been searching for has supplied said weapon to the rebels."
Ludwig, in his wheelchair, nodded thoughtfully. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he turned to regard Hugue, perhaps recalling the information he had heard earlier about the Resistance.
"So, Father Hugue... Do you have any other information about the rebels you encountered? Vienna is a fairly large city. Even if we search blindly, it would be quite difficult to find the low-frequency weapon in question. We would like some clues. Have you noticed anything else?"
"Unfortunately, all I heard was the name of the group, 'Edelweiss', Your Majesty."
After a moment's hesitation, the swordsman shook his head. He deliberately maintained a blank expression and averted his eyes from the "Tyrant King".
"I'm sure your country's gendarmerie would know more about this than I do. I believe Lieutenant Mauritz is in-charge. Maybe you should ask him."
"Of course, the gendarmerie has been mobilized to search for him."
Perhaps not realizing that the blond man was refusing to meet his gaze, or perhaps pretending not to notice, a shadow of sorrow was cast between Ludwig's thin eyebrows. He shifted his pleading eyes towards the swordsman's beautiful face.
"However, the rebels in this city have eluded us multiple times in the past. I've always wondered how they managed to slip through our fingers all the time. If they're being supported by this 'Orden' you mentioned earlier, then it all makes sense..."
"So, you believe our story?"
Slightly taken aback, Leon scratched the bristles peeking out from his relaxed chest. He studied the boy's expression as if to confirm his sanity.
"I can't dive into details, but the leader of an international terrorist organization known as the 'Orden' has set up a base somewhere here in this city and they've been providing weapons as well as information to the Resistance... To be honest, I didn't think you'd suddenly believe such a story."
"We've had this feeling for a while now that there is another organization, other than the rebels, hiding here in Vienna."
Finally turning away from the silent swordsman, Ludwig fixed his gaze on Leon. With a sincere attitude, he revealed more information.
"First of all, Edelweiss is a gathering of Ostmark's remaining retainers and a local organization in this city. Despite that, they are very active and have ample funds... That would be impossible unless another organization is supporting them from outside."
"Hmm... I see."
Impressed, Leon stroked his chin at the "Tyrant King's" modest yet heartfelt attitude. He probably did not expect the exchange of information to go so smoothly. They hadn't even handed the microchip over. He carefully searched the boy's expression and continued to avoid any in-depth conversations. Ludwig, on the other hand, did not treat them with contempt and maintained a gentle demeanor despite being in the presence of mysterious priests.
While still listening to their conversation, Hugue's attention went to the audience seats below.
"We will reclaim our homeland!" — all of a sudden, he recalled the alabaster face that shouted those words back in prison. If his sister were alive, would she be around that age? Surely she would've been as beautiful and full of vigor. If she were alive...
"Hm?"
It was at that moment that his green eyes narrowed abruptly.
The theater was still in an uproar. The attendants were desperately trying to calm the crowd but it didn't seem to be working in their favor.
However, what caught Hugue's attention was not that. In the corner of the box seats, a slender shadow was moving towards the wings of the stage, against the flow of the audience.
"That's..."
Hugue recognized the girl with straw-colored hair. She was the one who had been imprisoned with him just a little while ago.
Waltraute — the leader of the Resistance.
"You idiot, why are you here?!"
"Hmm? What's the matter, Samurai?"
Hugue muttered to himself, but his voice came out louder than intended. Leon, who had been talking to Ludwig up until then, suddenly turned around.
"Did you find someone you know? You look pale as though you've been caught red-handed by a woman you've dumped."
"Oh no, it's nothing. It's nothing... Ah, that's right, I should go look for Father Nightroad."
Awkwardly averting his eyes from Leon, the swordsman snapped his fingers as if it was an afterthought. It came off a little strange and unnatural, but he tried his best to conjure an excuse to leave.
"He's actually here too. He was supposed to evacuate the audience via a different route, but where is he? I'll look for him and bring him back."
"Is that so? Well, be careful on your way out... Oh, by the way, neither Pistolero nor the big-boobed girl has returned yet? What are they all doing, pushing all the work onto me?"
Ignoring his grumbling colleague, Hugue exited the control room. After making sure that none of Ludwig's elite guards were following him, he hurried down the stairs.
It's definitely her...
Hugue recognized the face of the girl who had left the theater earlier.
What is Waltraute, the leader of the Resistance doing in a place like this?
"I'm sure she went this way."
When he reached the parking lot behind the opera house, Hugue began to think.
The girl had left through the staff-only side entrance. This was the only exit leading to the outside. Had she already left? The parking lot, shrouded in the darkness of night, was empty.
"Please don't move, Father."
It was then a stiff voice was heard alongside the metallic sound of a submachine gun's bolt being pulled. Simultaneously, a thin figure rose from the shadow of a carriage behind Hugue.
"Do not make a sound... I owe you one, I don't want to shoot if I can help it."
"I don't want to hurt women or children... If I can help it."
Hugue answered quietly as he examined the gun pointed at him from the rear of a nearby car. He pulled his concealed rod closer to his body, his dark green eyes staring at the girl's strained face.
"But if you're a vicious criminal, it's a different story... I must kill you, Mademoiselle."
As soon as he uttered those cold words, Hugue drew his sword[1].
✝ End of Chapter VII
[1] Koiguchi wo kiru (鯉口を切る) translates to "cutting the carp's mouth". Koiguchi, the "carp's mouth" refers to the opening of the katana scabbard that fits snugly around the Habaki (metal collar wrapped at the base of a katana blade) and secures the blade in place. When drawing a katana, the Tsuba (hand guard) gets pushed up slightly with a thumb to release the Habaki from the Koiguchi. This move is called Koiguchi wo kiru.
Abel gave the grinning, dull-eyed Magician a firm warning. He pointed the muzzle of his old-fashioned revolver at his opponent's chest and repeated the warning again.
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, you are under arrest for thirty-eight counts of murder, criminal damage and various other charges. Now, surrender obediently!"
"I never had a weapon to begin with, Father."
Magician maintained a gentle demeanor despite being threatened by the priest. With the same sinister smile, he raised both of his arms, which had regenerated without anyone noticing, above his head.
"And if this is your wish, I will surrender. I will gladly become your prisoner... But are you happy with this?"
"Huh?"
Abel furrowed his brows in confusion. Failing to comprehend what the other person was trying to say, he ended up repeating after Kämpfer.
"Am I happy with this?"
"No, I was just wondering if surrendering here would put you at ease."
In contrast to the priest who had his doubts on display, Magician exhaled smoke in a calm manner. He proceeded to explain while puffing the cigarillo he had been holding in his mouth.
"After all, I am the man who killed so many of your loved ones. If I hadn't been there — in the city of Barcelona — that beautiful nun and the people in the city might still be alive and smiling."
"What?!"
Barcelona — when the name of that place was mentioned, Abel couldn't help but hold his breath. His fingers trembled as if they had been electrocuted and he desperately tried to restrain himself from pulling the trigger of his gun. However, Magician continued to speak politely, seemingly unaware of the priest's distress.
"Yes, they were all good people. Sister Noel, and the nameless people of Barcelona... All of them are now buried beneath cold earth. Well, the dead may still be silent, but Father, are you truly fine with that? Are you really going to tolerate such a tragic story in silence? Don't you want to take revenge on me?"
Abel's hand, which held the gun, began to perspire when he heard Magician’s words.
Kämpfer was certainly right. He could avenge Noel and the others now. No, not just Noel and the people of Barcelona. This man tried to destroy Caterina and Rome as if they were all trash. There was no point in keeping someone like him alive. Yes, even if he pulled the trigger here, no one would blame him...
"I won't fall for that again, Mr. Kämpfer."
Nevertheless, the muzzle of his gun did not actually spit out any bullets.
Even as he drew a deep breath, the priest's face showed no murderous intent. He gingerly returned the hammer of the gun he had cocked to its original position, then whispered in a voice that was completely in control of his emotions.
"Besides, there's something I really need your help with... You know what I'm trying to say, right? Tell me the location of 'Silent Noise', the low-frequency weapon you gave to the Resistance! Quickly now!"
"'Silent Noise?' Resistance?"
It was Kämpfer's turn to tilt his head as if taken by surprise. He cocked his head slightly while cradling the cigarillo butt between his fingers.
"What do you mean by that, Father?"
"Do not play the fool!"
This time, Abel had raised his voice. Pointing the gun between Magician's eyebrows, he repeated in a strong, firm tone.
"We've already established that the Orden instigated Waltraute and the others, and handed the weapon over to them. Now, where did you install it? Tell me quickly!"
"Ah. I see, that's what you mean."
Magician, however, did not respond to the priest's biting question. Instead, he snapped his fingers and muttered to himself as if he had just realized something.
"That's very typical of Sir Balthasar... I see, I see. So that's how it is."
"What are you mumbling about?"
Abel yelled at Magician who was indulged in self-satisfaction.
The king will be here tonight. If the Resistance were to try to kill him, they will definitely use "Silent Noise". What will then happen to the lives of more than a thousand people in the building?
"I'm in a hurry! Tell me quickly!"
"I'm sorry, Father. It looks like I won't be able to comply with your request tonight... Oh, please don't misunderstand. It's not that I don't want to hear you out. I honestly do not know anything about the low-frequency weapon."
Before Abel could unleash his anger and yell at him again, Kämpfer shook his head. He continued his sentence in a sincere manner as if to imply that he had never told a lie in his life.
"I'm truly sorry that I couldn't meet your expectations... But, I may be able to lend you my strength and help you fulfill your wish."
"What do you mean?"
With the gun still pointed at Magician, Abel urged him to continue speaking. There was no other way. He concentrated hard to avoid being deceived and implored the man to elaborate.
"What do you mean by lending your strength?"
"I know where the Resistance is based. I could take you there, if you'd like. However, that's all I can do — it's up to you to negotiate with them, or eliminate them, and shut down the weapon in question."
At that, Magician ceased his words for a moment. After a brief pause, as if to confirm Abel's intentions, he concluded his proposal.
"Of course, whether you believe in my kindness or not is up to you, Father. You can believe in me and protect this city, or you can shoot me here and avenge Barcelona... You are free to do as you wish."
"I understand."
Abel took a deep, hot breath and lowered his gun. He had no other choice. He turned away from the emotions that were still smoldering deep within his chest and nodded.
"Very well. Please come with me... But in return, if you do anything strange again, I will never forgive you."
"Certainly. I'll keep that in mind."
Whether he was aware of the priest's complicated feelings or not, Magician bowed reverently like a faithful butler attending to his master.
"I will always take your words to heart. Therefore, I hope you will do the same-"
"Oh? Isn't that the wimpy Father Nightroad over there?"
Just as Abel was about to slide his revolver back into its holster, a husky voice rang out from the darkness of the parking lot.
"I thought you were skipping work, but you're hiding out in a place like this. You're still leading a carefree life as usual... Oh? Who's that gloomy-looking person over there? Friend of yours?"
"Sister Monica, the Black Widow!"
Abel's voice trembled as he saw a figure standing in the middle of the parking lot which had been empty up until now. He uttered the name of the beautiful woman wearing a low-cut evening dress. She was glamorous, but had a venomous-spider-like smile plastered upon her seductive lips.
"Monica, you're in Vienna too! Oh, I'm so glad you're here. There's something I'd like you to help me out with."
"Ah, I heard about it. You're going to dismantle the low-frequency weapon in Barcelona, right?"
The woman spoke listlessly while running her hands along the slits of her dress. She licked her lips as she peered at the silent Magician from the corner of her eye.
"Hmm, is that the terrorist? The Duchess of Milan had issued a restraining order with a bounty on him, no?"
"Uh... Y-Yes. But for now, let us focus on dismantling the low-frequency weapon together."
Abel was about to add a quick explanation but he clamped his mouth shut in surprise when he realized the woman who stood before him had suddenly vanished.
The very next second, the priest instinctively pushed the man standing next to him away.
"Get down, Mr. Kämpfer!"
"Tsk!"
At that moment, the sound of a woman clicking her tongue repulsively alongside the sharp sound of a thin blade slicing through the wind reached his ears.
The Cinquedea — a broad blade that swiveled from behind had cut off several strands of Magician's black hair while he was being pushed away, and a thin streak of blood trickled down Abel's cheek. The blade then flew over the head of the fallen Magician but it was deflected by a kick from the side by Abel.
"What's the meaning of this, Monica?"
When did she get back there? Abel yelled at the nun who was now standing on the cobblestone pavement that glowed pale pink.
"That was dangerous! Are you planning to kill him?!"
"Yes, that's right, I'm going to kill him."
In response to the priest's question, she answered without any sign of remorse.
"You see, there's a total bounty of ten million dinars on this man. It would be a shame to allow this golden egg[2] to escape. So, it's safer to take him apart here and bring only his head to the Duchess of Milan... Oh, I'll give you a share of the bounty too. How about an eight-two ratio?"
"Wait a second! Have you not been listening to me? Vienna is in a dangerous state right now, if we do not dismantle the weapon, many will die like in Barcelona! This man is the only one who can prevent that!"
"There's no need to shout, I get it. What's the big deal though?"
Black Widow shrugged her shoulders, making it seem like the priest's spittle was a far more serious issue than his protest.
"What happens to this city is none of my business. People die? So what? It has nothing to do with me."
"Did you hear that, Father?"
The chuckling voice was not Monica's. Magician had finally stood up and raised his eyebrows as if to indicate something.
"She's brutally honest. She doesn't hide her desires... She's a 'human'. You failed to save Sister Noel back in Barcelona and now you're trying your best to protect her, correct?"
"Be quiet!"
The thorn lodged in the depths of his heart made the priest's voice waver. He yelled at the sneering Magician.
"Please, just be quiet for a moment! I- Eh?!"
"It's dangerous to look away, wimp~☆"
The moment Abel recoiled from the murderous intent that had silently closed in on him, the Cinquedea, dancing in the darkness, grazed his cheek.
Abel instinctively tried to raise the muzzle of his gun but the blade shot up from a blind spot below and blocked his movement. All he could do was stomp backwards.
"You came to destroy a terrorist's hideout and yet you're protecting a terrorist yourself, that's a huge problem, Father Abel."
Monica's movements, as she twirled the Cinquedea in a reverse grip, were as beautiful as a dance. However, the voice that came from beyond the dance of death was dripping with venom as she struck Abel.
"What you did was an obstruction of duty. I'll be sure to report that to the Vixen of Milan!"
"Damn it!"
By the time there was a roar and a flash of cold light, Abel's finger had already left the trigger of his old-fashioned revolver. Crimson liquid spurted from his wrist onto the cobblestones and a cry of agony escaped the priest's mouth.
"Farewell, wimp~☆"
The blown kiss and the venomous sneer were accompanied by the eerie sound of the wind. Abel's body doubled over in pain as the Cinquedea was being thrusted down upon the back of his head. The thin blade looked as if it would shatter the priest's medulla oblongata, but-
"Stop it, Sister Monica Argento."
A shrill metallic sound preceded a flat voice of restraint.
When Black Widow leapt sideways with the halved Cinquedea in hand, a fourth figure had appeared in the parking lot.
"T-Tres!"
"What are you two doing, Father Abel Nightroad and Sister Monica Argento?"
A small shadow approached with the sound of methodical footsteps and glanced at Abel with emotionless eyes. With a smoking pistol at his disposal, he questioned the priest and the nun in a monotonous voice.
"Private combat during a mission is prohibited by internal regulations. If you continue to engage in combat, you will be subject to punishment."
"And there I was wondering who it was. It's the little one..."
Displeased with having her fun interrupted, the nun lowered her hand that was holding the Cinquedea. Shaking her head and her black hair that was stuck to her forehead, she regarded the mechanical soldier.
"Are you going to interfere with my work?"
"I have no intention of interfering with your mission, however, an attack on Father Nightroad is intolerable under current circumstances... Father Nightroad, as things stand, Black Widow's opinion is correct. That terrorist is too dangerous to be taken to Milan alive. He must be eliminated here."
"W-Wait a second, Tres!"
Blood continued to flow from his sliced wrist. Abel took a step forward while trying to stop the bleeding. He kept Magician behind him in order to shield him and pleaded earnestly.
"There's something this man needs to do. 'Silent Noise' has been installed somewhere in this city! We need to find it and dismantle it quickly."
For a brief moment, a light flashed in the mechanical soldier's glassy eyes.
"Is that information reliable, Father Nightroad?"
"Yes and time is running out. Tonight, the opera house is being targeted."
Abel was about to say more, but suddenly his tongue froze in place.
An overwhelming urge to throw up made his chest constrict. Had he lost so much blood that his body went into shock? No, it wasn't that. The sensation he felt was far more foreign.
"Damn, we're too late..."
"What's that sound?"
Abel groaned as the feeling of discomfort he felt earlier returned again and at the same time, Monica who had been fiddling with the Cinquedea in discontent, raised her eyes skywards. A low vibration resembling the sound of a pipe organ reverberated through the night sky.
"It's 'Silent Noise'. It has begun!"
It was too late-
Abel raised his gaze at the brightly lit opera house in despair. His skin trembled. It was too late. The building was starting to resonate. There must be more than a thousand people in there, but how many of them will survive?
"Damn it... At this rate..."
Abel bit his lip and considered running in. The stone walls were beginning to make an eerie buzzing sound. If he entered the building now, he might get caught up in the collapse. Still, he couldn't bring himself to stand there idly.
"W-What's that sound?"
The first thing everyone heard was a low hum like the flapping of insect wings.
"I feel sick..."
All over the theater, particularly sensitive audience members complained of a rising urge to throw up, but even those who were unharmed were in no position to help them. Driven by an instinctive sense of unease, they looked up towards the ceiling — in the direction of something invisible and inaudible.
Was there something wrong with the air conditioning? Or did the speakers malfunctioned?
The moment someone in the audience, feeling suspicious, stood up to call for a member of the staff, it began.
A deafening boom, as if lightning had struck somewhere nearby, raged within the opera house. Although the sound itself was too low in wavelength to be heard, the sound pressure and the swell of air swept right through the entire theater.
"W-What is that sound?!"
The sound itself was inaudible. However, the intense ringing in the ears instilled pain as if it was piercing their eardrums, causing the well-dressed gentlemen and ladies to scream in unison.
Some of them clutched their ears and passed out. Some crouched down and barfed. A small minority stumbled and placed their hands to the wall only to discover that it was creaking and shaking violently. Amidst panic caused by the unheard sound, the walls, floor and even the ceiling gradually began to rumble. It was as if the building itself was writhing in agony.
Just as the screams were about to reach climax, another roar echoed through the theater.
"Please wait, Father."
A voice called out calmly and a hand reached out to grab Abel's sleeve, stopping him from breaking into a run. With a surprising amount of strength, the owner of the voice, Kämpfer, had managed to hold the priest in place and jerked his chin towards the building.
"Don't worry, the opera house is safe... Do you not hear that sound?"
"Sound?"
Surprised by the unexpected words, Abel had forgotten to shake off Magician's hand as he strained his ears.
The low humming of insects' wings continued to rain from the sky, but another sound had mixed in with it. It was even lower and heavier than the sound that came from the sky. What was it?
"It's coming from inside the building? I can hear it from inside the opera house... What is that?"
"It's 'armor', the armor of sound[3]... Hmm, it seems someone with a sharp mind is in there."
The "Silent Noise" pouring down from the sky and the deep bass sound emanating from inside the opera house — the two discordant sounds shook the night air as if competing against one another. And then, the vibrations of the opera house walls ceased. The banging of the walls and the rumbling of the earth could no longer be heard.
"It... It's gone?"
Abel wondered how much time had passed since he first noticed that sound. By the time he came to his senses, the low sound echoing from above had vanished. The cacophony from within the building was still ongoing, but apart from that, the opera house as well as the four of them in the parking lot stood still as if nothing had happened.
"Why?"
Abel muttered, dumbfounded.
It was definitely an attack by a low-frequency weapon. It was the same sound he had heard in Barcelona and in this city, but it was negated — how?
"Ah, could it be... Whoa?!"
Abel finally figured something out and was about to speak again only to jump over to Kämpfer to push him down. Taking advantage of the distraction, the Cinquedea had struck again.
"Stop that, Sister Monica Argento."
In response, Tres raised the muzzles of his M13s.
"Until we confirm the current situation, any hostile actions against Father Nightroad or Isaak Fernand von Kämpfer will not be permitted."
"Stop spouting nonsense, doll!"
This time, Black Widow spat as she swung her blade at Gunslinger.
"Neither the low-frequency weapon nor Vienna has anything to do with me!"
"Mr. Kämpfer, now!"
If I miss this opportunity, there will be no more chances to escape — with that thought in mind, Abel began to sprint as if driven by something. He leapt into the driver's seat of a car parked nearby and gave Magician an order.
"Come with me! Hurry!"
"Wait, Father Nightroad."
Tres shouted at the car whose engine had roared to life, but the Cinquedea approached, cutting off his voice. The barrel of his combat pistol blocked the blade, but a shrill sound echoed through the parking lot.
"We're going... Hold on tight!"
Abel ordered as Kämpfer slid into the passenger seat and the car sped off.
<Target A and B have withdrawn from the front line.>
In the darkness of the "ring", the red taillights of a car rapidly faded into the distance. The girl in the coachman's seat, who had been watching them, reported in a toneless voice.
<Shall we pursue them, master?>
"No, that won't be necessary."
The brown-haired young man opened his eyes upon hearing the maid's voice and shook his head curtly. From within the carriage parked on the side of the road, he coldly observed the two remaining individuals arguing in the parking lot and issued an order.
"I'll leave the pursuit to Acht (VIII). Let us return to Turm. If my predictions are correct, the rats will soon be on the move. I'd better head back to assist the Countess and my brother... Please inform Drei (III) and the others, Zwei (II)."
<Understood.>
"So... Crusnik has failed to kill him this time too. What will the other deputy enforcers do now?"
While the maid nodded and turned the carriage around, the young man stroked his chin and muttered.
The first stage of the plan — to pit the deputy enforcers against Magician — was a success. However, even if they were the Vatican's elites, he certainly did not expect them to be able to nullify the weapon so easily, and there was no way that Magician wouldn't notice their schemes. The fact that he had chosen to come along of his own accord meant that he was trying to outwit them.
"And now, we're going to outwit him even more... Or rather, the real show is just starting."
The young man, Basilisk, muttered to himself as the carriage turned a corner, and shut his eyes again.
Yes, the night has yet to come.
✝ End of Chapter VI
[1] Polite as always, Abel addresses Isaak as Kämpfer-san (さん) which is equivalent to "Mr." or "Mrs." and speaks to him in a respectful manner.
[2] Golden eggs are commonly used as a symbol for something of great value, usually money.
[3] It is indeed written as "armor of sound" (音の鎧). I believe it's a term used to describe the trick Leon used to nullify the low-frequency weapon. There is a brief explanation for this in the next chapter.
Glaring over his hostage’s shoulder, Leon called out to Tres who had finally succeeded in tearing the Salamander off his face alongside his mirror shades. While being careful to not strangle the young king in his arms, the large priest urged his colleague.
"If you're still able to move, go after that long-haired bastard. I'll take care of these scary men over here."
"Positive."
After a brief pause, the mechanical soldier nodded. He slammed the flesh-colored mass that was wriggling obscenely between his fingers against the wall and continued to tear it apart with a hail of bullets.
"I'll leave this to you, Dandelion. I'll return as soon as I've dealt with the target."
"Don't worry about me, just hurry up and go... But, what should I do?"
Listening to the heavy footsteps of his colleague who had kicked open the door and sprinted down the stairs where the terrorist had disappeared, Leon glanced back and forth between the boy he was using as a shield and the young officers who were surrounding him. He cleared his throat and made a suggestion, looking like a fraudster who had failed to dine and dash.
"Well, gentlemen, if you're so inclined, I'll let this slide as a light joke. So, let us all act like adults and pretend this whole fuss never happened, okay?"
"Those are some fascinating words. It would be a shame to execute you as a terrorist."
An impish laugh responded to the arrogant giant's proposal. The boy, despite having a gun pointed at his head, chuckled amusedly.
"Unfortunately for you, however, according to our nation's laws, anyone who points a gun at the king, deliberately or unwittingly, will be subjected to the death penalty. Negotiations are pointless."
"Oh, really? In that case, I'll just use you as a shield and escape."
Inwardly impressed by the boy's bold words, which were a stark contrast to his gentle expression, Leon replied flippantly. To crush the hopes of a "terrorist" in a situation like this would require a great deal of courage or incorrigible stupidity.
"You bastard! You have been sentenced to death... Death!"
A high-pitched roar interrupted the exchange between the boy and the giant. It was the young officer from before. Instead of screaming, he seemed more frustrated that he could only fold his arms[1] in vain before his sovereign whose well-formed lips sported a bitter smile. The officer stomped his feet and yelled.
"You and your comrades will be executed by firing squad, terrorist! Who do you think he is?! He is His Majesty the King!"
"I see... That's how it usually goes."
Turning his gaze to the enraged officer, Leon nodded solemnly at best, though his eyes still held a cold look in contrary to his tone.
"All right, if I'm going to be killed anyway, why don't I just kill your king here? As a 'terrorist', I'd have to do that much to live up to your expectations, right?"
"WAIT! What we said earlier was a lie! Don't be hasty!"
The officers blanched upon hearing Leon's desperate words, but the giant paid them no heed. He tightened his arm around the young king's neck.
"S-Stop-"
The guards tried to stop him, but to no avail. Leon lifted the king's body off the wheelchair, then leapt sideways.
"Huh?!"
A flesh-colored spear pierced the afterimage of Leon as he jumped. If he had been half a second slower, the giant and his hostage would have been skewered. Despite its soft appearance, the flesh-colored spear — the pseudopod of the Salamander that had resumed activity — had gouged a deep hole in the marble floor. The fragments scattered around the area began to smoke violently due to the strong acid.
"Tsk! You should've finished it off, Pistolero!"
Although the Salamander had been torn to shreds by Tres' bullets, it appeared to have regenerated in a very short period of time. Leon cursed at the Artificial Ghost that was pulsating eerily on the floor.
It had also grown considerably larger than before. At first, it was the size of an apple, but now it had grown to the size of a human head.
"Damn it! What is this monster?!"
"No, Lieutenant Meyer! Don’t shoot!"
A voice called out to stop the young officer who had his gun raised in panic. Ludwig, supported by Leon, issued a weak but clear warning.
However, the king's order came a little too late — the moment the gun was fired, the Salamander curled its body like a lump of rubber and hurled itself towards the officer. It happened so quickly that there was no time to dodge. A horrendous scream erupted from the throat of the officer whose head had been completely wrapped in slime.
"M-Meyer!"
"No, your comrade can no longer be saved! Get away from him!"
Leon yelled at the screaming officers who were trying to run over to their fallen comrade.
The ominously wriggling Salamander emitted a foul stench as it was about to engulf the whole of its victim's body. Several soldiers who had ignored Leon's warning tried to brush off the slime entangling their comrade's body, however...
"W-Woah! What is this?!"
Cries of fear escaped their mouths. The slime slithered, then a tentacle stretched out and wrapped itself around their hands. No, that wasn't all. With terrifying force, it pulled them in and their screaming heads were wholly covered in slime.
"You idiots! I told you so!"
Glaring at the slime mold mass that appeared to have grown in volume and the men that it had devoured, Leon clicked his tongue bitterly. Evidently, the monster was capable of growing within a short span of time by absorbing the proteins of its victims which had been dissolved in acid. As of now, it had already swelled to the size of a human. If it continued to grow indefinitely like this, it might end up swallowing the entire opera house.
"Damn, that fraudulent magician has left us a huge souvenir!"
"What are you guys doing? Get out of here!"
It was Ludwig who yelled at the young officers in place of the giant who was gritting his teeth. On the other side of the mass of flesh that had now filled the hallway, he barked curt instructions at the remaining officers who had been standing still, petrified by the gruesome death of their comrades.
"I'm fine here so please hurry and call in reinforcements. Also, have someone contact the manager and evacuate the audience from the opera house."
"B-But, Your Majesty!"
One of the officers shouted with a mournful expression. The Salamander's massive body had separated them entirely from their king, who was being supported by the giant. The officer pleaded as if he was watching the death of his beloved lover across the river.
"What is Your Majesty going to do? We'll hold that thing off! In the meantime, Your Majesty-"
"I appreciate your consideration, but it is unnecessary... Be at ease, I have an idea."
Nodding calmly, the young king looked up at Leon, who was also standing still with a troubled look on his face, and spoke as if he was addressing a close friend.
"I'm deeply sorry but could you please back a little further down the hallway? I can't walk so you're the only one I can rely on."
"I'm all for escaping, but..."
The Salamander had finished digesting the officers it had swallowed. It swelled up to several times its original size and started to move slowly towards them. Leon shrugged his broad shoulders and shook his head.
"That's the seating area. I don't think we should take this cutie to a restaurant."
"Who told you to run that far? There's a construction site up ahead. That's enough."
"A construction site? But what's the point of running to a place like that? We're going to end up like rats in a bag[2]... Oh no!"
The giant's protest was cut short. The pink piece of flesh, with its head raised like a sickle, began charging towards them.
"Y-Your Majesty!"
The officers fired at the wriggling mass of flesh, but the bullets only managed to puncture shallow holes in the Salamander’s body and did nothing to slow it down. Like a flesh-colored river, it closed in on the giant and the boy he was holding in his arms.
"Ugh, damn it! What a needlessly energetic monster!"
Turning around in panic, Leon sprinted as fast as he could back down the direction he came from. His footsteps were barely louder than his large build would suggest, but his speed was quick enough to break the international sprint record. In the blink of an eye, he had left the Artificial Ghost behind.
"How's that? Is that thing still chasing us?!"
"No, I can no longer see it."
The king narrowed his eyes over the giant's shoulder. Perhaps it had been pulled away by the man's astonishing speed. The eerie mass of flesh was nowhere to be found in the darkness of the hallway. Had it given up?
"Don't let your guard down just yet... Ah, it's over there. Please enter the construction site."
"Hey, king, what exactly are you planning to do here? Can't you just tell me now?"
Feeling a tad uneasy, Leon moved forward at a reduced pace and crouched down to get in between the scaffolding.
"If we enter a place like this, we'll be trapped like rats in a bag, won't we? If we're planning to hide, why don't we go somewhere more open?"
"Hide? I have no intention to hide."
The boy who was being held in the giant's arms answered with a chuckle. His expression was that of a mischievous child inviting a friend to his home, rather than the king of a military nation.
"I came here to retaliate... It is the duty of a king to avenge his vassals."
"You? You said you wanted revenge?!"
Leon frowned at the boy's boastful words which sounded like the ramblings of a megalomaniac, but then a sloshing sound penetrated his eardrums. It resembled the sound of water falling on a red-hot iron plate. Before he could even give that sound further thought, the giant kicked off the floor and leapt backwards in a gravity-defying manner.
"That bastard is coming through the exhaust vent!"
Leon clicked his tongue at the pink glow that gushed out of the duct near the ceiling.
Meanwhile, the monster, which had deceived the giant's keen senses by moving through the walls, flexed its huge body in triumph. It then transformed into a flesh-colored whip and fell right on top of Leon's head. If he had been alone, he would have been able to dodge that. But in his current state with the boy in his arms-
"Tsk!"
"Hah!"
Just as Leon was about to squeeze his eyes shut in despair, a sigh of exhalation, as if it had been squeezed from the depths of his stomach, pierced the giant's ears.
"Huh?!"
The Salamander whose pseudopod had been sliced off writhed in agony. Acid rain gushed like a waterfall from the cut, but the expression of the shadow — a cassock-clad young man with flowing light blond hair — remained unchanged. He swung the white blade he was holding down with all his might, tearing a massive gash into the monster’s gigantic body that had leaned over.
"You’re late, Samurai!"
"Sorry, I'm late for a reason."
Without batting an eye, the swordsman — Father Hugue de Watteau — responded to the giant's protest. At the same time, his prized blade was moving around rapidly, deflecting the strong acid spewed by the writhing Salamander, and protecting himself as well as his colleague.
“We got caught up in a bit of trouble due to Father Nightlord’s mistake... Nevertheless, you're playing with something interesting, Father Garcia. Is he someone you know?"
"No, he's just a stalker of mine. It's tough being a popular man... Well, we'll get to that later. Let's deal with this thing first. Hey, boy, you said you have an idea, right? What do you suggest?"
"That... That bag."
At Leon's urging, the young king pointed to a corner of the construction site. It looked like the walls had just been plastered. Several large bags of powder were placed amongst the plasterer’s trowels and cement.
"Cement powder? No, that's... Oh I see it now, boy!"
A defiant smile appeared on the giant's lips. He kicked the bag up high with his thick legs. It flew into the air, scattering white powder between Hugue and the Salamander.
"Samurai, cut that thing down!"
"Understood."
Just as the Salamander was about to spew acid from the pseudo-mouths that had opened all over its body, a white beam of light flashed before it — a long sword had sliced the flying powder bag in half. At that moment, white powder burst with explosive force and rained down upon the Salamander’s gigantic body.
There were no screams to be heard — the Salamander made of slime mold did not have such a function.
However, the pink mass of flesh twisted its body violently and seemed to emit something like a wave that rippled through the air. The gigantic slime trembled as if trying to shake off the white powder — quicklime — that had adhered to its entire body.
Even so, the quicklime continued to exterminate the slime mold that made up the Salamander through its hydration reaction, its neutralizing effect against acids, and the generation of heat. Even the slime mold, which can withstand both fire and cold, had no chance of recovering from that chemical burn.
"Wow, that's amazing."
Gazing at the mass of flesh — or rather, the mass of white ash — that had finally stopped moving within a matter of minutes, Leon sighed in admiration.
"Hey, can you believe it, Samurai? That monster died over something so shitty."
"It's the same principle as removing slime from drains. I used that to clean up my master’s laboratory at the end of last year."
Using his blade, Hugue scooped up the lime that had spilled all over the floor and nodded, his face exuding a melancholic beauty.
"If you wait a little while and wipe it dry after, the dirt will come off easily... But to come up with such a brilliant idea on the spur of the moment, Father Garcia-"
"Ah, no, that wasn't my idea."
Leon hurriedly shook his head at his colleague's compliment and finally lowered the boy he had been supporting to the floor. He propped the boy against the wall and examined his face with slight concern.
"It's all thanks to you, king. I'd like to express my gratitude."
"It appears you all are more than just terrorists."
Although Leon did all the running, Ludwig's breathing was labored as if he had been sprinting himself. His lips, slightly discolored, still moved gracefully as he questioned the priests.
"I believe... You must be from the Vatican... Specifically, the Ministry of Holy Affairs. Did I get that right?"
"Yes, that's right... Ah, I'm deeply honored to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty. I'm Father Watteau of the Ministry of Holy Affairs."
Hugue knelt respectfully before the boy. He then expressed his intentions with a level of decency and sincerity that was in stark contrast to his insolent colleague.
"I apologize for my abruptness, but I have come forth tonight to advise Your Majesty to evacuate. Thre is, in fact, a plan to assassinate Your Majesty tonight with the use of a low-frequency weapon.
"A low-frequency weapon?!"
The boy's expression did not change when he heard the string of ominous words. Instead, it was Leon who cocked his thick eyebrows.
"I see, that explains why that long-haired bastard was wandering around... So, Samurai, do you know where 'Silent Noise' is?"
"The only thing we know is that it's somewhere in the city."
Hugue shook his head somewhat reluctantly.
"Therefore, it isn't possible to dismantle it as of now. Let us focus on evacuating the people in this building."
"No, even if we evacuate them now, it may not be enough. Instead, we should think about neutralizing that damn weapon."
"Neutralize? Is that possible?"
"Yes, it wouldn't be possible in any other building... But in this place — the only place in the city — it's possible."
Leon began writing numbers on his palm as if doing some sort of calculation, but he quickly looked up again. He regarded Ludwig with a deep, thoughtful expression and shifted his eyes rapidly from side to side.
"King, I'm sorry for asking this out of the blue, but I'd like to speak to the manager here... Could you please introduce me?"
✝ End of Chapter V
[1] To stand by and watch, being unable to do anything to help.
[2] A metaphor that describes a desperate situation where one is cornered and unable to escape.
The opening time for the performance had passed and yet the person he was waiting for had not shown up at all.
There was no appointment to begin with. In fact, he was the one who came for a visit without checking the other party's busy schedule. So, when he left his seat, Isaak Fernand von Kämpfer was not particularly disappointed.
"'Warten heißt: Voraneilen, heißt. Waiting means hurrying ahead' — Thomas Mann... The person I'm waiting for has yet to arrive. Now, what should I do next?"
As he passed like a shadow between the noble ladies who were rushing to their reserved seats, Magician muttered to himself with a cigarillo in mouth. He had been hoping to get help from an acquaintance to locate the "younger brother's" whereabouts, but if he couldn't catch the person in question, there was nothing he could do. He turned his dull eyes to the stage.
It was twenty minutes past ten in the evening — the performance was nearly half an hour behind schedule but the curtains were still not drawn.
It was a rare occurrence for performances at the Royal Opera House to be delayed. The opera house, which was said to be the best in the world, had a reputation not only for the quality of its operas, but also for its tradition, formality and strict management. In fact, even during the invasion of Ostmark by Germanicus fifteen years ago, performances were still being held on time.
Tonight, however, there were no complaints from the audience. Everyone knew the reason why the curtains had not yet risen was because the theater was waiting for its guest of honor, Ludwig II, the King of Germanicus himself.
In the Königsloge[1], the king's private seat overhanging from the second floor, high-ranking officers in military uniforms were busy pacing about. However, the most important person, the occupant of the throne, was nowhere to be seen. Tonight's performance was Mozart, the king's favorite. Did something happen in the city, causing him to be late? All the audience had their eyes fixed on the Royal Box. Due to that, no one paid any attention to the black-clad man who was passing through the balcony and moving towards the stage. Without being noticed, Magician stepped through the staff-only door and into the hallway leading to the dressing rooms.
"Hello, smoking is prohibited here."
Kämpfer had just finished crossing the hallway and was approaching the dressing rooms when a reprimanding voice echoed down the hallway.
Part of the dressing rooms appeared to be under construction. Ropes were strung all over the place and scaffoldings had been erected. At the narrowest point, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
"Besides, this place is off-limits to anyone but staff members. There should have been a no-entry sign over there, did you not see it?"
"Ah, my apologies... I'm actually a props manager of a small local theater company."
With his back still turned to the voice, Magician politely apologized. With a shortened cigarillo in hand, he pointed at the door to the orchestra pit nearby.
"Therefore, I ended up popping in without permission... But even so, this place really does require a lot of work. Just as I expected, the cost is truly on another level."
"I'd like to say that I'm honored to receive your compliment. Unfortunately, I don't work here."
A cold, mocking laugh came from the voice behind him, then Kämpfer felt something hard pressing against his back.
"So, what brings you here, you long-haired bastard? Are you here to destroy Vienna this time?"
"Why do you associate my face with subversive activities, Father Garcia?"
Vexed, Magician turned around and objected. The dark-skinned face that was smiling brazenly down at him belonged to a man dressed in a tuxedo who stood a head higher than him.
"Putting the Vatican’s unilateral and arbitrary opinion that I'm a terrorist aside, there are times when I just want to appreciate art... Or perhaps I'm being overrated as a hardworking man who toils day and night?"
"Apart from being overrated, it appears you're not quite well-liked."
Father Leon Garcia de Asturias grinned fearlessly as he pressed the Sturmpistole[2] against Magician’s back.
"Also, you're a terrible God of Pestilence... There are plenty of terrorists in this world, but you're the only one we've been ordered to isolate from society as soon as find you."
"Is that... An honor? Doesn't that make me sound like the plague bacteria or something?"
Despite his protests, Kämpfer was already preparing to remove the obstacle. The pentagrams on his gloves glowed faintly as he entered the command to activate "magic" into the virtual keyboard in his mind.
"Now, Father Garcia. I'd like to ask you one thing. Is that all right?"
"What?"
"I’ll offer flowers at your grave, but... Is there any hope?"
The moment the verdict of execution was announced, Kämpfer raised his right arm.
The Sword of Beelzebub — the monomolecular wire blade that was released split the air, tracing an invisible trajectory, and in the next moment, it bent in a complex manner and was about to land on Leon's neck. The thread, made up of multi-twinned C60 carbon particles, was the thinnest and strongest carbon fiber, boasting a hardness comparable to that of a diamond. It should be able to shoot a human’s neck off without inflicting pain — or so it was supposed to.
"Oh?!"
"Zero-point-seventy-seven seconds too late."
In reality, however, it was Kämpfer who had lost a part of his body.
By the time Magician felt a dull impact on his right arm, he was slammed into the wall. His right wrist, which had been shot off, made an eerie sound as it rolled to his feet.
"Heh, I wouldn't take on a sly person like you on my own. That would be too reckless."
The giant snorted at Kämpfer, who was standing by the wall and barely managing to avoid falling. With his gun still pointed at Magician, Leon called out to the other priest who had appeared from the nearby door.
"Well, what do you suppose we do now, Pistolero? They said they wanted him dead or alive, right? So that means we can just kill him here without fear of consequences and bring his body back to Milan?"
"Positive, Dandelion."
The mechanical soldier's voice that answered his colleague was as unwavering as his smoking guns.
"Intelligence gathering considered, it would be best to take him alive, but with no other support in sight, it would be difficult to detain this individual and transport him to Milan... Our safest option is to eliminate him here."
"Good grief, I really am overrated."
Gazing at the muzzles of the guns that were being pointed at him with murky eyes, Kämpfer heaved a sigh. As he watched the mechanical soldier tighten his finger on the trigger, he attempted to deploy the Shield of Asmodeus — a strong electromagnetic barrier.
"Huh?!"
Suddenly, his slender body trembled. He took a few steps back, clutching his forehead as if he had a mild headache, and pressed his back against the wall.
However, that ended up saving his life. A split second later, his black hair danced in the wind. The bullets had whizzed through the spot where his head had been earlier at subsonic speed. The strong electromagnetic shield that was supposed to stop those appeared to be nonexistent.
"Is... My 'arte[3]' not working?"
Kämpfer questioned himself while still leaning his back against the wall.
His "shadow" — the wormhole that usually opens on his command, was unresponsive as well. Instead, a dull pain rippled through the back of his head. It was subtle, but the tingling sensation was more than enough to disrupt his mental concentration.
"I see how it is... You've done it, Puppeteer."
"Missed. Re-adjusting aim by three-point-eight points to the right..."
Magician clicked his tongue at the sudden thought in his mind while the mechanical soldier in a cassock repositioned the muzzles of his guns. Further behind Tres, the large priest had also raised his Sturmpistole. It mattered not which direction Magician planned to escape to, they will not miss their shots. With the wall blocking his back, Kämpfer had nowhere to run-
"Hey, who the hell are you guys?"
It was at that moment that someone called out to them.
At the other end of the hallway, a group of black-clad men had just ascended the stairs. They were a group of soldiers wearing the "Doppeladler[4]" insignia, the national emblem of Germanicus on their lapels. Several people, likely volunteers, were carrying a girl in a wheelchair, and they were all surrounded by burly young officers. The one who bellowed in an overbearing voice was a young brown-haired officer leading the group.
"This place is strictly off-limits to the public! What are you doing here?"
"You idiots! Don't come any closer!"
Leon yelled at the young officer who had drawn his pistol. The giant tried to intimidate that man by aiming his Sturmpistole at him.
"You bastard!"
The furious young officer had pulled the trigger a little too quickly. A gunshot reverberated through the hallway. Leon's gun was knocked out of his hand and dropped to the floor, its silhouette distorted.
"Tsk! What a waste of time!"
By the time Leon clicked his tongue, he was no longer standing in the same spot. The giant had rushed forward to shield Tres, who still had his guns pointed at Magician, and swiftly threw a chakram. The silver blade drew a beautiful trajectory and plunged into the floor beneath the soldiers’ feet.
"What?!"
A flood of blinding white light engulfed the area.
The magnesium installed within the chakram exploded and as the young officers shielded their faces from the blast, Leon's huge body leapt in silently between them. He snatched a pistol from a nearby officer and pressed it against the temple of the wheelchair-bound girl, then roared.
"Nobody move!"
The giant pressed the muzzle of the gun against the girl's waist-length blonde hair. He gave the officers, who had finally regained their sight, a sneer like that of a ravenous beast.
"Don't move. If you move, this girl's life will be in danger. Judging by her appearance, she must be the daughter of some noble or something like that. It would be bad if she gets hurt... Sorry, young lady."
Was she affiliated with the Germanic military? The girl was slim and dressed in the military uniform of the Germanic army. She also looked no older than fourteen or fifteen years old. Wrapping his thick arm around her slender neck, which was covered by a high collar, Leon whispered in a gentle voice unbefitting his rugged face.
"I'm terribly sorry for scaring you, but I'm in the middle of a fight. Please bear with me for a while... It's okay, I won't even leave a scratch on you.”
"I appreciate your consideration, but you've committed two mistakes."
The voice that answered the giant's whisper was calm, but not the least bit hesitant.
Despite having a gun pointed at her temple, the hostage showed no sign of fear and pointed out Leon’s mistake with a cool smile.
"First of all, I'm not the child of any noble. Secondly... I'm a proper grown man."
"What?"
"Y-Your Majesty?!"
The girl, or rather, the boy with his long, slitted eyes, had a beautiful face reminiscent of a porcelain doll made by a master craftsman. At the same time Leon's eyes grew wide at the boy's confession, the surrounding officers cried out in anguish.
As soon as they saw the boy being used as a shield by the giant, they screamed as though the goddess they worshipped had been preyed upon by a monster.
"Oh, Your Majesty! How could this happen?!"
"Your Majesty... Wait, this person is the 'Tyrant King' of Germanicus?! This is Ludwig, the 'Tyrant King'?!"
"Das Brutale[5]", "Blut Jugend[6]", "Das Schlechter[7]" — Leon stared at the king who was known by many nicknames as if he had encountered a ghost in broad daylight. Beneath the youth's flowing blond hair, his pale face was that of an innocent girl. His slender body looked as though it would break on touch and even now, sitting in a wheelchair with his neck being strangled, the lower half of his body was limp and motionless. Was this delicate boy truly the sovereign of the worst military nation amongst the great powers?
"This is bad... This is really bad..."
Leon groaned as he examined the Totenkopfring[8] on the officers' fingers which marked them as members of the Schutzstaffel, the king's elite guards.
"Father Garcia, this is an emergency. Hold them down."
Leon, who was sweating profusely and using the boy as his shield, was given an order by Tres, who had released the safety device on his combat pistols aimed at the terrorist. After confirming that the red dot of his laser sight was shining between Magician's eyebrows, he pulled the trigger without hesitation.
"In the meantime I-"
"Who do you think I am?"
The moment the sarcastic words were spoken, smoke erupted from the face of the mechanical soldier who was completing his firing sequence. A pink, glowing mass of flesh had been attached to the mirror shades on his face. A strong putrid smell of acid filled the air as the slime-like mass stuck to him.
"Ah, allow me to introduce him. He's a Salamander, a Künstliche Geist[9] I made the other day for my amusement."
Magician introduced his pet as he opened one of the doors behind him which was close to the wall where he had been cornered into until now. He glanced at Tres who was trying to peel off the mass of slime that had stuck to his mirror shades and curtly announced his departure.
"I'll be excusing myself for today, Father Tres. I wanted to have a leisure conversation with you about human emotions, but I'm unfortunately busy tonight."
"Hey, wait, you sly bastard!"
The large priest yelled in a hoarse voice from the other side of the hallway but it didn't reach Kämpfer's ears. He had slipped through the door and found an emergency staircase leading to the basement. Without a trace of impatience on his face, Kämpfer glided down the stairs and passed through another door. From there, a shadow dressed in black continued further down the corridor and emerged at the rear of the opera house, in a parking lot where guests' carriages and cars were parked.
"Well, I think I shall be off for tonight."
Gazing at the opera house he had just exited from, Magician muttered to himself and once again focused his consciousness on his own shadow. He attempted to open a wormhole to the other side of the dimension and sighed again.
"Just as I thought, it didn't work. Oh dear, Puppeteer's pranks are truly troublesome."
Kämpfer shook his head in resignation at the shadow that hadn't changed at all.
Back in his lab in Turm, there were many servants available for high-speed traveling such as Byakhees and Gaunts[10]. However, without the ability to use his "shadow", he couldn't summon them either. Should he just pick up a carriage?
"Hmm?"
Magician was about to head in the direction of the "ring" but suddenly halted in his steps.
He noticed a tall shadow on the other side of several parked carriages. After a brief moment of silence, a polite smile finally formed on his lips.
"Well, well, it truly is a surprise to meet you here. It appears we have an inseparable bond. Don't you agree, Father?"
It seemed the tall shadow had also noticed Kämpfer. As expected, his body stiffened as if he had stopped thinking, but when he was called out to, he forced out a raspy voice through clenched teeth.
"I knew it, it was you who did that... Kämpfer!! The Rosencreutz Orden!"
The next moment, the silver-haired priest, Abel Nightroad, pointed the muzzle of his old-fashioned revolver at the grinning Magician.
✝ End of Chapter IV
[1] "Royal Box" in German.
[2] "Assault-pistol" in German.
[3] The word "arte" has many meanings such as "art", "skill", "trade", "ability", "craft". In this context, it refers to Isaak's "magic".
[4] "Double-headed eagle" in German.
[5] "The Brutal One" in German as written in Furigana. The Japanese word for this is "Brutal King (兇王)" which can also be translated into "Tyrant King".
[6] "The Bloody Youth" in German as written in Furigana. The Japanese word for this is "The Bloodstained Youth (血染めの若者)".
[7] "The Terrible/Wicked One" in German as written in Furigana. The Japanese word for this is "The Massacrer (虐殺者)".
[8] "Death's Head Ring" or "Skull Ring" in German.
[9] "Artificial Ghost" in German.
[10] Flying demonic creatures named after the flying entities written by H.P. Lovecraft.
The attendant by the entrance accepted the fur coat and the generous tip with a deep bow. With a refined smile, he examined the woman's ticket, and smiled again — Front Box, Front Box Seat, Number 32. It was the most prestigious seat in the Royal Opera House and the closest to the Königsloge[2], which was reserved for the king.
"Your name is Monica Argento. With your entourage, that would be a total of three, correct? Well then, please come this way. I will show you to your seats now."
"Grazie[3]."
The woman expressed her gratitude in a husky voice that would send shivers down any man's spine and she smiled amiably beneath her tilted hat. With a pair of servants behind her — a small young man with a handsome doll-like face and a large, dark-skinned man — they strode boldly into the theater decorated in shades of gold, brown and red.
The woman was extraordinarily beautiful.
She was perhaps a wealthy travelling noblewoman, or the mistress of some prominent aristocrat. Her cold, hard beauty and wild eyes that resembled those of a female leopard were certain to make every man fall for her. Her name suggested she was of Latin descent, but she spoke with a Roman accent — her intonation was not of a native Roman's, but someone from somewhere further down south.
"Oh, that's right, may I have a moment of your time please? There's something I'd like to ask you... Garcia, the photos."
"Si, Señora[4]."
With a gentle snap of her fingers, the dark-skinned servant standing behind her reverently handed over two photos. The woman took them listlessly and showed them to the attendant with a bored expression on her face.
"Have you seen these two men tonight? It doesn't have to be inside this building. Have you seen them anywhere in this area, for example?"
"Ah, priests?"
Focusing on the faces of the men in the photo — the silver-haired and blond-haired priests — the attendant frowned as if searching for a memory, but quickly shook his head. Due to the nature of his job, he was exceptionally good at remembering people's faces, but he hadn't seen these shabby and gloomy-looking priests. Due to King Ludwig of Germanicus' visit tonight, the mammoth-sized opera house, with a seating capacity of 1,709, was filled to the brim with noble ladies and gentlemen dressed in gowns and tuxedos. There was no room for poor people, like those two, to sneak in.
"Unfortunately, ma'am, I haven't seen them. Do you have an appointment with these men?"
"We were supposed to meet here tonight, but, well, it's fine. I wasn't really counting on you to begin with."
The gorgeous woman spoke in a somewhat scornful manner and reached out to caress her slender neck. While flicking her rose choker with her fingertips, she talked to the attendant again.
"Your assistance is no longer required. Please leave my luggage to my men... Ah, thank you for your hard work."
"It's no problem at all, ma'am. Your seats are the best. Please enjoy this evening to the fullest."
The attendant bowed with a flattering smile. He stole one final glance at his guest's cleavage, then returned to his department with a reluctant look on his face. The woman sent him off with a cold smile.
"I knew it, that idiotic duo is nowhere to be found."
The harsh words that followed were spoken with a Sicilian accent. It was as if the woman had become a completely different person from before. She then threw a cold sidelong glance at the two men behind her. All traces of her elegant smile had vanished.
"Well, it was a mistake to pair those two together and send them here before us... So, what are we going to do now, Father Tres?"
"We will contact the King of Germanicus as planned."
One of the two men responded in a monotonous voice — a young man with a small build and dressed in a neatly-pressed tuxedo. With a handsome doll-like face and glassy eyes, he continued to scan the hall as he spoke.
"Then, we will convey the Duchess of Milan’s intentions to the other party. The search for Father Nightroad and Father Watteau will come after that."
"Those 'misfortunates[5]' are in Vienna too, aren't they?"
The large man standing next to Tres responded to his cold statement. Annoyed, he loosened the collar that was tightening around his thick neck, then cast lustful glances at the ladies and female attendants passing by in the theater.
"Maybe they're hanging out at a bar somewhere? Or maybe they got themselves arrested by the police for acting suspiciously... After all, unlike me, those guys aren't gentlemen. It's possible."
"Regardless, we just need to deliver the Duchess of Milan's letter to that dumb King of Germanicus, right?"
The woman in an evening dress interrupted the men’s conversation. Fanning her chest with a feathered fan, she glanced at the still-unoccupied seat in the Royal Box.
"All right, hand that thing to me, little one. I’ll find a good opportunity to deliver it to him in person."
"I implore you to choose the timing carefully, Sister Monica Argento."
Without protesting against the nickname he was given, Tres pulled out a tightly sealed envelope from his pocket. The Duchess of Milan’s seal was stamped into the wax and as he handed it over to her outstretched hand, he emphasized coldly.
"The SS[6] and the gendarmerie are currently on high alert inside the opera house. If it becomes known that a person with special abilities like you has snuck in, in the worst-case scenario, we could be attacked."
"Hah, do you truly think I'd make such a fool of myself, doll?"
By the time she responded to Tres' warning with a provocative smile, the woman had vanished — literally. However, the two men did not look surprised. Leon sighed as he lowered his gaze to the carpet that was glowing faintly in fluorescent colors.
"She's just as reckless as ever. What if someone saw her?"
"I will report her actions to the Duchess of Milan later."
Tres muttered indifferently as he carefully scanned his surroundings to ensure there were no witnesses. Then, in a flat voice, he added.
"The same goes for the late arrival of Father Nightroad and Father Watteau... This is an A-rank operation of the utmost importance. At a time like this, when we need our forces the most, being late would, at worst, be considered as desertion before the enemy."
"Woah, you're mad huh, Pistolero[7]?"
The giant laughed as he smoothed his hair back which had been combed with pomade. He regarded the expressionless profile of his small colleague and sighed.
"Was it because of the attack in Milan? You're still mad that the Duchess of Milan was attacked while you were away, aren't you?"
"Mad? Negative, Dandelion."
Tres replied flatly as he inspected each and every occupied seat. There were some minimal movements around the Royal Box and the show was scheduled to begin in 287 seconds. It was about time for the king to show up.
"My CPU does not possess emotions like humans do. However, this operation has been given top priority by the Duchess of Milan. I would like to conserve as much power as possible."
"Oh, I see. Well, fair enough. I’m not going to worry about that too much though."
Leon ignored his colleague's words of "having no feelings" and fetched his opera glasses from his pocket. He followed Tres' example by examining the audience and began to spun around leisurely.
"Motivation is important, but if you overthink, you'll fail at your job. Just relax a little and enjoy the scenery around you... Oh, I found a gorgeous woman!"
Leon, who was a little too relaxed, cheered while focusing his eyes on the rear of the flat floor seats.
"From the top, I'd say 89, 57, 90[8]... Oh, that bust size... Huh?"
"What's the matter, Father Garcia?"
Looking back at Leon, who had suddenly gone silent, Tres called out in a monotonous voice. He hadn't gotten that far yet since he was scanning from behind. He tried to determine the direction his colleague was looking at from the angle of his opera glasses and focused on the audience in said direction.
"Gallery, front left... Can you see him? I see a familiar face."
Glancing sideways at Tres, Leon let out a raspy voice between his long canines. He returned his coal-like eyes to the opera glasses and muttered.
"Why is he here too... That bastard!"
"I see him too."
Tres used his visual sensor to capture the face his colleague was glaring at, then pressed a hand to the radio in his ear. He reported to another colleague who was in the sky above Vienna.
"Sister Kate, please report to Rome as soon as possible. A category A-A-4 detention target has been sighted at the Royal Opera House in Vienna."
Category A-A-4 — "Wanted Dead or Alive". The mechanical soldier prepared to activate his tactical thoughts while locking his glass eyes on the designated target.
"Case 09-3, Isaak Fernand von Kämpfer, key witness to the 'Silent Noise' incident, has been apprehended at current time."
✝ End of Chapter III
[1] "As you say, ma'am" in German.
[2] "Royal Box" in German.
[3] "Thank you" in Italian.
[4] "Yes, ma’am" in Spanish.
[5] Referring to Rosencreutz Orden terrorists.
[6] The Schutzstaffel. In Trinity Blood, they are King Ludwig II’s elite guards.
[7] "Gunfighter" in Spanish. The word "Pistolero" was actually not written in the novel at all. By right, I should've translated Kenju-ya (拳銃屋) into "Gunfighter" or "Gunman" in English, but I remember seeing the word "Pistolero" back in RAM 3, in both English and Russian translations. For the sake of consistency, I shall use "Pistolero" as well.
[8] Bust, waist and hip measurements, also known as the “three measurements”. These numbers are in centimeters (cm).
"Oh Lord, why am I being locked up in a place like this?"
Gripping the thick iron bars in both hands, the silver-haired priest cried out in a loud voice. His appearance was somewhat reminiscent of a gorilla at the zoo.
"I'm the unworthy Abel Nightroad, Type B Virgo. Although I may have been poor, I have lived an honest, noble and righteous life up until now. To think that the day I have to deal with the police has come... Is this some kind of test? Ah! Are you perhaps angry that I accepted a piece of bread that was meant as an offering when I was on the brink of starvation?!"
"Abel, you've misunderstood something. They are not the police."
The other priest called out to his colleague who was shedding tears and snot. Lying on the hard linoleum floor, Hugue corrected the other man's words with an indifferent look on his face.
"They're the gendarmerie. They're different from regular city police."
"I know that! You didn't have to tell me, Hugue! I just want to know why I've been arrested by the gendarmerie!"
Turning around with a force so hard that his head almost popped off, Abel yelled at the beautiful man. Then, he began to write on the floor and paint a picture of his future with his tears.
"Oh, I'm sure they'll do horrible things to me. They'll smear chili pepper jam on my mouth, have the soles of my feet licked by goats and I'll be tortured to death..."
"Well, I hope that's all they'll do."
Due to his stoic lifestyle, Hugue probably didn't mind the poor living conditions of the prison. His cool expression didn't change as he turned over and spoke his mind as if it was none of his business.
"Germanic gendarmerie is notorious for their cruel interrogation methods. If you can get away with having just your fingernails ripped off or an arm chopped off, then that's a good thing."
"A good thing... What do you mean, Hugue? How could you be so calm? Do you even understand?! This is torture, real torture — they'll smear tar all over our bodies, pierce our ears with goose feathers and make us listen to the sound of glass scratching for eternity! How is that you still have a refreshed look on your face? Huh?! Are these, by any chance, your hobbies?"
"Stop making weird assumptions, Father Abel. Unlike you, I don't have any strange hobbies... Besides, have you forgotten? Father Tres and the others will be arriving in Vienna tonight, no?"
Dismissing Abel’s suspicious stare with a slender hand, Hugue sat upright and gazed down at the deserted cobblestone pavement of the "ring[1]" through the barred window.
"We'll ask the King of Germanicus for his cooperation with this mission — then, we'll reveal our identities and be free once more."
"Oh, I see."
Abel clapped his hands, having completely forgotten about his colleagues who were not here. His face became carefree all of a sudden and he had reverted to his old self again.
"That's right! Tres and the others will be here soon! Oh, silly me! I was worried for nothing, ahaha-"
"Well, before that happens, we might get tortured and lose at least one of our fingers."
"SOMEONE HELP ME!"
The silver-haired priest's screams resounded through the dimly lit hallway, but there was no sign of anyone coming to help him. It seemed that today was an off day for the Lord of Heaven too.
"I still have so many regrets! I have yet to finish conquering the pizza stands at the Spanish Steps, I still have to rebuild my vegetable garden and I only need to collect three more coupons from Mr. Coppola's restaurant in exchange for a frying pan. Then, I won't have to fry eggs in a pot anymore... Ah, I don't want to die yet!"
"Hey Father, you're being noisy."
As the priest babbled about his destructive desires that were completely unbecoming of a member of the clergy, an irritated voice called out to him — the third person who had been sleeping in a corner with a blanket over their head got up and began to protest in a sulky tone typical of someone who had just woken up.
"I'm still sleeping. Could you please not make too much noise?"
"S-Sorry, I forgot..."
Abel shrugged his shoulders as if struck by lightning after being confronted by such an arrogant tone. He spoke in a timid voice as though impressed by the girl who had gracefully risen from under the blanket, or perhaps he was trying to appease her.
"But, you're pretty calm, Fräulein[2]. Despite being arrested by the gendarmerie, you're still able to sleep for so long. You have incredible courage... Uh, Miss Waltraute, you say? Aren't you afraid of torture?"
"Not at all... Before that happens, my comrades will surely come to my rescue."
The young girl — Waltraute calmly shook her head. She smiled with a look of relief as if her comrades were right in front of her.
"Vienna is our garden[3]. As long as I remain in this city, no harm will come to me."
"So, speaking of comrades..."
"You heard the name 'Edelweiss' a while ago, haven't you?"
The girl pulled her long blonde hair back to reveal her ears, each adorned with a small white flower-shaped earring.
"To be precise, we're called the 'Edelweiss Volunteer Corps' — a group of strong-willed people who opposes the tyranny of Germanicus."
"Edelweiss... I've heard of it."
Hugue narrowed his eyes at the elegant name spoken by the girl. He stroked his chin and tilted his head as if unearthing knowledge.
"If I recall correctly, it was a secret society made up of former military personnel and children of former nobles from Ostmark? I see, so that's why it was connected to the Orden and the Einherjar Chamber of Commerce..."
"If you don't mind, could you call us the 'Resistance' in a more dignified manner, my dear beautiful priest? We're not some shady secret society."
Waltraute pouted, feeling slightly offended. The high-handedness was typical of aristocrats. She proceeded to carefully explain to the silver-haired priest, who was sitting upright and listening to her.
"Countess Vogelweide, the president of the Einherjar Chamber of Commerce, is a friend of my father, Air Force Admiral Donitz. Sixteen years ago, my father shared our country's fate, but the countess managed to curry favor with the occupying forces and established an organization... And to bet on a comeback sometime in the future."
"Countess Vogelweide... I see, so she was the one who supplied you with various weapons and supplies?"
Abel clapped his hands as if impressed by the words of the noble girl and rebel. Then, he inquired in a casual tone.
"By the way, Miss Waltraute. Do you recall ever hearing the word 'Silent Noise' at the organization? Or perhaps 'Silent Sound'?"
"Silent Noise?"
Waltraute repeated hesitantly and tilted her head in visible confusion.
"What is that thing? I don’t remember hearing anything like that... What about it?"
"Oh, no, if you don't know anything about it, that’s fine..."
Without pressing any further, Abel dodged the girl's question with carefree laughter, but deep down, he was not as calm as his expression suggested.
The Einherjar Chamber of Commerce incident earlier — the strange way the building collapsed seemed familiar. If his intuition was correct, then the "monster[4]" had been installed somewhere in Vienna. If that was truly the case, one wrong move in this city could lead to the worst possible outcome...
"By the way, Father, may I now ask you a question in return?"
A slightly high-pitched feminine voice interrupted Abel's thoughts which were currently replaying an ominous memory. Waltraute, with her reddish-blonde hair tied back at the nape of her neck, cast a somewhat suspicious look at the priests.
"Who exactly are you two? You don't look like ordinary traveling priests. You were investigating the organization, weren't you? What is the purpose of your visit to Vienna?"
"To investigate a heretical organization, Mademoiselle[5]."
The swordsman responded, preempting Abel who was still trying to think of an excuse. He seemed to have thought it out beforehand as he recited a random profile in a very solemn tone.
"We are staff members of the Ministry of Doctrine. Have you heard of the heretics known as the Clermont Commandment Sect who recently carried out a bombing attack in the Kingdom of Franc? The route they used to obtain weapons leads to here, so we’ve come to investigate."
"You're saying the heretics got their bombs here?"
Waltraute furrowed her brows in fear. Even though she carried large quantities of dynamite herself, she seemed to have an aversion to terrorist activities committed by others.
"But the Einherjar Chamber of Commerce has nothing to do with that. The countess is only fighting for Ostmark's re-independence. There's no way she would sell weapons to such heretics."
"Impossible, you say, Fräulein?"
The voice that interrupted the girl who was trying to defend her acquaintance had a gruesome tone to it. Everyone turned their heads as the gendarmerie officer and several armed soldiers entered the prison. The officer, whose stern face resembled a military dog, ordered his subordinate to unlock the door before stepping into the cell. He was the same man who had been knocked down earlier by Hugue.
"But I've heard plenty of bad rumors about the Einherjar Chamber of Commerce. They have been supplying weapons, ammunition, funds and information to many terrorist organizations other than you rebels... Ah, I'm late in introducing myself. I'm Lieutenant Mauritz of the 21st Gendarmerie Corps of Germanicus. Please keep me acquainted with you from now on."
"Well, Lieutenant, I think there's an unfortunate misunderstanding between us."
Bowing repeatedly, Abel fawned over the man who was pretending to be elegant, but whose expression lacked any sense of refinement or humanity. The priest tried to explain while wagging his invisible tail that was on the verge of falling off.
"The truth is, we're staff members of the Ministry of Doctrine. We're conducting an internal investigation on the Archdiocese of Vienna. We're just ordinary priests who happened to be caught up in trouble while on duty. We swear to God that we have not done anything suspicious.”
"Why would ordinary priests carry such dangerous objects?"
An old-fashioned revolver was being pointed at the priest who was trying his best to grovel. Mauritz also had Hugue’s metal rod in his hand.
"A swordstick and a gun... Aren't these rather dangerous props for members of the clergy?"
"Oh, uhm, well, you see..."
Abel scratched his head with a troubled expression.
Their audience with the king was tonight after all. Tres and the others were very likely already in Vienna but it was still too early for negotiations to begin. It was too risky to reveal his identity now — there was no telling if "they[6]" would hear about it.
Just as Abel was struggling to come up with something to evade the question...
"Hmm, what's that?" A bewildered man's voice drew everyone's attention.
Until then, Hugue had been leaning against the wall with an odd look on his face. He lifted his gaze which resembled a carnivorous beast that had detected an approaching prey. However, all he could see was the low ceiling and nothing else apart from the dim, flickering gas lamps.
"What's wrong, Hugue?"
"What's the matter, Father?"
The blond priest was likely trying to change the subject by diverting everyone's attention to himself and it seemed everyone but Mauritz had fallen for his trick. The lieutenant smiled wryly.
"Watch out! Get down!"
Hugue's lean body spun gracefully around, knocking Waltraute down beside him and sending her tumbling to the floor. Simultaneously, a shrill, scream-like sound reverberated through the ceiling.
How many of them realized that the strange sound was the sound of a falling mortar shell? The next second they lifted their heads, the ceiling burst apart with a deafening bang.
"W-What's going on?!"
The soldiers screamed while shielding their heads from the falling rubble as the prison shook violently as if struck by an earthquake. Amongst them, Mauritz let out a particularly furious and ugly cry.
"W-What the hell is going on... What happened?!"
"Lieu-Lieutenant, look over there!"
In response to his superior's angry yell, one of the soldiers pointed at the wall.
Beyond the wall that had collapsed due to the impact of the explosion, a massive shadow spread over the deserted cobblestone pavement of the "ring". Thin smoke was still rising from the muzzle of the rotating mortar turret mounted on the top of a six-wheeled military armored vehicle. Its huge body was clad in thick armor, resembling the Beast of the Earth from the bible.
"It's an allied armored vehicle... W-What is the meaning of this?!"
"I-I don’t know! I did not receive any notices for an urban drill or anything of that sort..."
While the gendarmerie soldiers were busy making a fuss amongst themselves, the armored vehicle rotated its turret again. A low sound was heard and this time, a dull rumbling came from the first floor.
"I'm here, Hugue!"
Frowning at the screams that were coming from downstairs, Abel quickly whispered to the swordsman beside him.
"I don't know what's going on, but let's go for now!"
"Understood."
With a nod, the swordsman's body began to glide in a smooth manner. By the time Mauritz turned around, it was already too late. Hugue swung his right arm as if in a graceful dance, and the officer uttered a shameful cry as his body was spun around, then slammed to the ground.
"Abel, this is yours!"
The old-fashioned revolver that was flung across the room landed perfectly in Abel's hand and the swordsman advanced with fluid footwork. He slipped through the ranks of soldiers, who were frantically trying to raise their guns, with just his metal rod in hand. Immediately afterwards, all eight of them laid unconscious on the floor with no exceptions.
"Don't worry, I only hit them with the ridge of my sword[7]."
A click resounded in the hands of the swordsman who muttered softly. To the average person, it was impossible to tell when he had drawn his sword. As he returned the blade back into its sheath, Hugue turned around.
"Let's go, Abel. At this rate, we'll be late for our appointment."
"Yes, but before that..."
Abel nodded and checked the magazine of his pistol. After confirming that all six bullets were loaded, he raised the muzzle and-
"I'm sorry but you're coming with us, Miss Waltraute."
"F-Father?!"
The silver-haired priest took on a stern expression. She stared at the gun that was being pointed at her in fear and screamed.
"W-What is the meaning of this?!"
"You will be taken hostage."
Abel's answer was firm. To proof that he wasn't joking, the muzzle of his gun did not budge one bit even after pushing up his round glasses.
"And if possible, I'd like you to tell me where it is — the location where 'Silent Noise' has been installed at."
"What do you mean, Abel?"
The soldiers' angry voices and screams of confusion could still be heard from inside the building. Hugue, who had been listening intently, turned around to question his colleague.
"What does she have to do with that low-frequency weapon?"
"I don’t know what the connection is... But she knows a lot about it."
With his gun still pointed at Waltraute, Abel's face turned sorrowful.
"I asked her earlier if she remembered hearing anything about 'Silent Noise' and she answered 'What is that thing? I don’t remember hearing anything like that.' How do you know that 'Silent Noise' is a thing? Miss Waltraute, you know what that is, don't you? You know where it is, don't you?”
"Yes... I know."
Her voice turned dark and her expression changed drastically. She was no longer wearing the mask of a naive and arrogant young lady. Rebel Waltraute, with a cautious and cunning light shining in her eyes, slowly backed away towards the hole in the wall. A faint smile was etched upon her face.
"Unfortunately, I can't tell you where it is yet... Not until I defeat that man and reclaim our homeland."
"Oh no!"
When the girl turned away, Abel couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. Waltraute's movements were bold as if she already knew she wouldn't be harmed. She leaped through the hole in the wall and jumped down to the street below.
Abel panicked and tried to jump after her but-
"Woaaaah!"
He quicky ducked his head and leapt backwards. He had been hit by machine gun fire from the armored vehicle parked on the street. Hugue sprinted towards the wall to cover for his colleague who had fallen over, but the armored vehicle, with Waltraute on its fender, had already turned around. Realizing that something was amiss, the vehicle sped off into the opposite direction down the street where the lights in the buildings were starting to come on.
"This is bad, if we keep this up, she'll get away... Let's get a car and give chase, Abel."
"N-No, we don't have time for that. There's somewhere we must go to first..."
Abel finally picked himself back up from the ground. He turned his pale face to his colleague and put his gun away.
"They... The Resistance’s goal is the king’s life and tonight, his whereabouts couldn't be clearer — The Royal Opera House[8]. If I were them, I would blow that place up first.”
✝ End of Chapter II
[1] Referring to the ring road which encircled the center of Vienna.
[2] A German honorific for unmarried women, comparable to "Miss" in English and "Mademoiselle" in French.
[3] "Vienna is our garden" means the Resistance knows Vienna like the back of their hand.
[4] Referring to "Silent Noise", the low-frequency weapon.
[5] A French honorific for unmarried woman, comparable to "Miss" in English.
[6] Referring to the Rosencreutz Orden.
[7] Mineuchi (峰打ち) refers to the act of striking an opponent with the spine or ridge of a single-edged sword such as Japanese swords. It still causes bruises and concussions but the opponent does not get killed.
[8] I'm struggling to translate the Furigana for this. I think it's the German name of an opera house in Vienna and it's very likely the Vienna State Opera House, but the Furigana sounded nothing like Wiener Hofoper/Staatsoper at all and I don't want to assume. I decided to use "Royal Opera House" instead (translated from the written Kanji 王立歌劇場).
Vienna Central Station — a junction where railway lines coming in from the north of Germanicus and lines going out towards István in the east intersect. Long before Armageddon, this city was a major transportation hub between the east and the west with heavy foot traffic and a fairly large train station.
However, on this day, the platform, where the Über Berlin express train stopped shortly after sunset, was located at the far end of the station in a very inconspicuous spot. Only two passengers disembarked the train and the long-haired noble lady who had come to greet them smiled politely at the gentleman dressed in a black mourning suit.
"You must be exhausted from your long journey. However, I'm a little surprised that you would use the same means of transportation as such a lowly commoner, Lord Magician. I had assumed you would come directly to my castle."
"My 'shadow' has many restrictions, Gräfin[2]."
The gentleman in black who stepped off the stairs onto the platform answered politely and lit a cigarillo. He exhaled a light puff of purple smoke and watched with dull eyes as the maids accompanying the noble lady began unloading their luggage from the carriage.
"It's not always possible to use it, and it's draining in many ways... In principle, it's more efficient to use this mode of transport. Besides, traveling is a very elegant experience."
"What do you mean by 'elegant'... Isn’t it simply a matter of taste, Magician? Besides, it's because of your strange collecting habits that things have become such a hassle."
The gentleman, who had been answering in a dignified manner, was cut off by his companion. Perhaps wearied by the long train journey, the beautiful young man in a coat grimaced excessively and placed his hands on his hips.
"Sitting for eight hours straight was tough... I'd like to take a shower and get some rest tonight."
"Oh, are you tired, Lord[3] Puppeteer? I’m sure you are. Well then, shall we head to the airport now?"
The noble lady smiled at the grumbling young man and raised her chin at her blue-haired companion who had been standing behind her in silence. Then, she spoke to her guests again.
"Leave your luggage to Melchior. We shall make way to the airport together. As you already know, my 'tower' cannot be reached by car. I apologize for the inconvenience but please bear with me for a while."
"Ah, a moment please, Gräfin. Before I go to your 'tower'..."
Discarding his cigarillo, which still had more than half left, onto the platform, Magician suddenly looked as if he was searching for someone. He stomped on the cigarillo butt and shifted his dead-fish-like eyes to the young man behind the lady.
"Is Sir[4] Melchior the only one here? Where are the other Neumann brothers?"
"If you mean Hundert Gesichter[5], he is still in Rome."
The noble lady answered with a straight face. Although she fully understood the intention behind Magician's question, she deliberately delivered an irrelevant answer.
"Concealment is his specialty. He is currently in Rome, lying in wait to see what the Vatican will do next."
"No, I’m not inquiring about Sir Kaspar's movements..."
There was a slight hint of frustration in Magician’s voice as he glanced around the platform which was deserted except for them.
"Where is Sir Balthasar? I heard he has already returned from Milan?"
"Oh, Basilisk? He-"
A sharp crescent moon hung in the blue night sky. Gazing at her own shadow cast by the thin shaft of light on the platform, the noble lady responded in an indifferent tone.
"If it's him you're looking for, he's not here. He's in the city right now."
"Oh, in the city?"
Magician's tone became strained all of a sudden.
It wasn't without reason. He was interested in the important information that Basilisk had brought back in the first place, so he had temporarily suspended the operation that was already underway in Albion and traveled all the way to Vienna from Londinium. However, the man in question was out having fun in the city. It was no wonder that Magician’s expression had hardened.
"Well, this is a problem... I thought I had already notified all of you of my arrival? I find this rather surprising, coming from the ever-polite Sir Balthasar."
"Ah, my deepest apologies..."
The noble lady responded to Magician's protest which sounded unusually unpleasant while struggling to withhold her inner laughter.
"I apologize if you find this displeasing. The truth is that a troublesome individual has infiltrated Vienna. I have asked Basilisk to get rid of him before it becomes a major problem. The fault is mine. Please do not blame Sir Balthasar."
"Troublesome individual?"
The noble lady's careful choice of words was duly rewarded — Magician shifted his dull eyes incredulously, and paused, as if he had some clue in his mind.
"Gräfin, could that troublesome individual be..."
"Yes, you know him well, Lord Magician... It is Abel Nightroad of the Vatican."
Magician's expression did not change when he heard that name. However, the noble lady — Ice Witch’s narrowed eyes caught his trembling hands and she chuckled inwardly. Like a cat tormenting a mouse, she continued to lure him into the trap with her words.
"Actually, several deputy enforcers have infiltrated Vienna due to the recent 'Operation Birdcage' and Sir Balthasar has come to exterminate them... Yes, if I recall correctly, he mentioned that the deputy enforcers will show up at the opera house tonight. They should have already reached there by now. By midnight, we shall have all their heads."
"I see..."
Magician listened impassively to Ice Witch’s lengthy explanation. However, the next time he nodded, the pentagrams embroidered on his gloves were already beginning to emit a faint light.
"I’m truly sorry, Gräfin. I must get going now. If it's not too much trouble, could you please take Puppeteer back to your 'tower' first?"
"Well, that’s fine, but where are you heading to at this hour?"
"To Sir Balthasar. I would like to ask him about that matter."
While answering, the black-clad man was gradually shrinking in stature. No, that was not the case. Starting from his feet, Magician was being consumed by his own shadow that the silver moon had cast on the platform.
He continued to speak leisurely while passing through the wormhole that had been ripped open in the quantum world.
"I would also like to see how the deputy enforcers are doing. I want to see for myself how much of a blow the 'Birdcage' had inflicted on them. I understand this is rude of me, but I hope you will forgive me."
"Well, I don't mind, but..." Ice Witch made an almost innocent expression. She politely called out to the gentleman whose lower half body had already been devoured by the "shadow".
"Are you sure you can manage on your own? Shall I send Melchior with you?"
"No, it's fine. I'm faster alone-"
By the time Magician replied, he had completely sunk into his own shadow. Immersed in darkness that was even darker than night, he spoke to Ice Witch, who maintained a reverent expression.
"As soon as I finish conversing with Sir Balthasar, I will head directly to your 'tower'. After that, you may deliver your miscellaneous reports to me at your leisure. Any further announcements from me will be conveyed by Puppeteer..."
When the voice, which was gradually fading away, finally ceased, the figure of the gentleman in black had completely vanished from the moonlit platform. A faint black stain spread across the concrete floor, but it soon faded away.
After confirming that the man was truly gone...
"Hmph, Magician appears to be in a hurry."
The lady's lips, which had been smiling reverently up until then, parted to let out a venomous laugh.
"He was so flustered... Is this 'younger brother' really that important to him?" She questioned.
"Well, it can't be helped. To him, Abel Nightroad is the second most important person in the world after all."
The irritated reply came from the young man in a coat who had his face turned away from the conversation as if he had nothing to do with it. Annoyed, Puppeteer brushed aside his bangs that had fallen over his devilishly beautiful face and continued to mutter in an unamused tone.
"The only person Magician cares the most in this world is him[6], but that person is obsessed with his 'younger brother'... It’s no wonder that Magician is panicking.”
"Shush! I heard that the 'younger brother' treated our lord cruelly in the past!"
The noble lady spat her words like a snake spewing venom and anger flashed in her eyes as she glared at the spot where Magician had disappeared.
"No matter how much our lord wishes, to keep such an unworthy scoundrel by his side... Even if it’s our lord's wish, I will not tolerate such foolery!"
"Well, I don’t care what anyone does but it’s true that his methods have been getting a little annoying as of late... Ah, that's right. By the way, Countess? As promised, I've taken care of his 'magic' during the trip. I’ve embedded this in the control chip in his brain."
As Puppeteer spoke, something glowed in his hand. A thread — a thin, long hair-like tread that shimmered faintly in the moonlight.
"This is a special kind of 'thread'. It has no effect on his biological tissues, including his brain cells. It's merely a tool that hacks into the activation system of his chip — a lost technology weapon — and renders it unusable. The hacking should be completed in about half an hour. Once that's done, he'll not only be unable to use his 'shadow', but also all of his boastworthy 'magic'. That's right, he'll go from being a magician to just an ordinary person."
"Oh? How interesting."
Ice Witch parted her lips, looking as if she was going to lick them and her anger had been replaced by a mocking laugh.
"Without 'magic', that man would be no different from a mere commoner. He'll be no match for Sir Balthasar... Well done."
"Why, even for me, he's someone I want to destroy too."
With a light flick of his wrist, the "thread" was retracted and the beautiful devil stuck out his tongue.
"That man controls the Orden purely for fun. If this continues, there's no telling which direction he'll drag us all into... We need to do something before that happens."
"Once we get rid of him..."
The young man was happily criticizing Magician behind his back and the noble lady spoke to him in a voice that sounded as if she was praising him. She was also smiling with glee while fiddling with the wand on her waist with her fingers.
"With our lord's consent, we shall improve the management of the Orden. In a situation like the present, where we need Magician's approval to do anything, I don't know why we, the Orden, are gathered here for."
"Look, it's fine to think about the future but... Is it truly okay to be this carefree, Countess?"
The voice that dampened Ice Witch’s joy was not Puppeteer's.
A little further away, a young man with light blue hair, who had been keeping an eye on the maids, turned around with a solemn expression on his face.
He gazed intently at Puppeteer's pretty face and opened his mouth listlessly.
"Countess, I don't think you should trust that Terran too much... He's the kind of person who will betray even you for his own amusement. If you let your guard down, you'll get caught next."
"What do you mean by that, Pygmalion[7]?"
Puppeteer muttered in a lethargic tone as he regarded the young man whose eyes had narrowed slightly.
"Are you implying that you don't trust my work? Are you trying to find fault with me?"
Puppeteer asked provocatively while moving his fingertips in a subtle manner.
"When did I ever complain about your work? I'm saying I don't trust your character, Puppeteer."
Avoiding eye contact with the auburn-haired young man who had raised his chin defiantly, Melchior von Neumann — Pygmalion — answered confidently with a single sentence. He then pretended to check on the maids and added in a low voice.
"Puppeteer, did you truly betray Magician? Are you not just putting on an act to deceive us? Personally, I can't trust the fact that this man is siding with us."
"Melchior, hold it."
Ice Witch stopped the Methuselah who was muttering in a monotonous voice, unsure if he was actually speaking to someone or just to himself. Invisible sparks had begun to fly[8] between both parties and she decided to diffuse the situation before they lunge at each other's faces.
"Lord Puppeteer has grown weary of Magician and is now lending us a hand. That I can vouch for him. To doubt him is to doubt me... Ah, please allow me to apologize for Pygmalion’s rudeness. Please forgive us."
With that said, she glared sharply at the disgruntled Melchior, then turned around to smile at the young man who had fell silent. Nodding at the limousine parked outside the station, she announced aloud.
"Well, for now, let us relax at my 'tower'. We’ll sip some fine wine and patiently await Basilisk's return."
✝ End of Chapter I
[1] Written as Magician-dono (殿). I have translated this as Lord Magician. Take note that this does not imply that Isaak is a noble. In this context, this honorific is used to convey respect.
[2] "Countess" in German.
[3] Written as Puppeteer-dono (殿). Same as above, I have translated this as Lord Puppeteer. Again, this does not imply nobility.
[4] Isaak (and occassionally Helga) addresses all the Neumann brothers with -kyou (卿), hence the addition of "Sir" to Balthasar, Melchior and Kaspar's names.
[5] Kaspar von Neumann’s codename in the Orden which means "A Hundred Faces" in German. In Japanese, it is written as "King of a Hundred Faces (百貌の王)".
[6] Referring to Cain.
[7] Melchior von Neumann’s codename in the Orden. In Japanese, it is written as "King of Puppets (傀儡の王)". Pygmalion is the name of a mythological king of Cyprus who carved an ivory statue of a woman named Galatea, fell in love with it and prayed to Aphrodite, the goddess of love, to bring it to life. Considering the fact that Melchior created an army of automatons, his codename suits him pretty well.
[8] An idiomatic expression that describes the animosity, argument and tension between Pygmalion and Puppeteer.
[Extra] It’s interesting to point out that Melchior uses the word "otaku (オタク)" often in this chapter when speaking/referring to Puppeteer. Nowadays, "otaku" is associated with geeks/nerds, but this word can also be used as a formal second-person pronoun that means "you". In this case, I’m honestly not sure if Melchior is calling Puppeteer a nerd or he's just using it as a second-person pronoun, so I decided to not include that in my translations.
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