#073. The Vampire is Too Kind (5)

#073. The Vampire is Too Kind (5)

Hansel felt Ian trying to shake him.

Even so, he couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m… not equal to Marbas…?”

“That’s right. So, you can resent him as much as you want, hold onto your desire for revenge. He’s a devil who pressured you to make a choice that resulted in losing your only family, and plunged you into despair.”

The boy would never again reach the truth through his own will.

If he realizes he’s been brainwashed, he’ll have no choice but to doubt whether the truth he heard from Ian was truly the truth.

Perhaps Marbas and he were truly equals, and that relationship was broken by Ian, he might believe.

The target of his revenge might become Ian, become me.

But I was prepared.

That too, is a burden the wicked mind-manipulator must bear.

One who twists the hearts of others.

Must be prepared to receive the resentment of the twisted heart.

“Having saved someone doesn’t give you the right to abuse them.”

Ian shattered Hansel’s fragile heart.

He could no longer be the same as Marbas.

The thing his heart was now equal to wasn’t Marbas, but Ian.

“I was going to sacrifice your mother.”

“I am a mother who cherishes children more than anyone. I’m not garbage enough to blame a poor child.”

Teresa willed her sword back.

Seeing this, Hansel suppressed a wave of sorrow, as if struck by a memory.

The boy’s wavering heart steeled once more, returning to the blank slate of a ruthless vampire.

“I can provide guidance on the path to revenge. I’ll even let you interrogate this Ronoel as much as you desire. But… Marbas is not yours to kill.”

“As you wish.”

The agreement between Ian and Hansel was sealed.

* * *

The heart of the Bloodwood.

Around Dracula’s manor, vampire nobles have erected their own castle towers, where they reside.

“We cannot allow the purity of vampire blood to be tainted by outside hunters seeking our untainted lineage.”

Count Dracula offered this as justification, but Marbas merely scoffed.

“A paltry excuse. He’s simply afraid. Afraid that some vampire noble, gathering high-quality blood in some place unknown to him, will surpass his power. He who claims to be the representative of the clan, reaping power by virtue of his station, yet forever unable to shed the past of his baseborn ancestry.”

For no matter how much power one wields, if the heart that guides it is weak, one cannot be called strong.

Marbas had, across the long years, seen far too many who possessed greater strength than his, only to crumble.

“The end draws near for the Bloodwood as well.”

A paradise forged by a single vampire to suppress the growth of the entire race, maintaining himself at the apex.

A hell where countless lives are doomed to misery for the sake of one vampire.

Marbas saw at once that the human sorcerer, Ronoel, whom he had summoned to fuel his own advancement, would be the catalyst for Dracula’s downfall.

“Using the necromantic arts to resurrect the dead for a powerful figure? And not for a human king, but for the leader of vampires? The fellow harbors a truly wicked scheme. One that Dracula, of all people, can’t possibly withstand.”

The butler listened to it all in silence, reaching for a bottle to refill the empty wine glass.

“Enough. It seems the last of my kindred has arrived to offer some amusement. And with humans in tow, no less. I don’t wish to squander this moment with mere intoxication.”

Fine wine can be procured anytime, with money and patience.

But a tragedy worth savoring for a century cannot be bought so easily.

“Marbas. I’ve returned to trade, as promised.”

A rather large, and peculiar, group it was.

First, a boy and his mother.

This much could be understood, mirroring Hansel and Gretel.

The rest was the beginning of chaos.

A girl even younger than the boy, and a centaur nanny.

A knight in escort, an adventurer in light armor, a guide with a large map sticking out of his backpack.

A cat-beastkin with a long skewer, a black frog beastkin dressed as a dancer, and a chimera, the very embodiment of evil.

A crusader cloaked in robes, and a pious saint.

Ten unexpected additions, no less.

It was difficult to imagine where they’d been gathered, for each was utterly unique in race, gender, age, and profession.

“An intriguing company. That such conflicting individuals could belong to one group, and not even bicker amongst themselves, means they have an exceptional center of gravity. And that center is… you two, mother and son.”

“What are you staring at?”

Teresa snapped, poised to unleash her sting like a hornet whose nest had been disturbed.

Though, Teresa’s sting was not venomous, but a blade.

“What were you promised to venture so deep into these woods? If you expect hospitality, I’d like to hear your tale.”

The attack would begin the moment Marbas led Ronove’s company away.

But before then, suspicion and a broken contract were to be avoided.

It was easy enough to blurt out a clumsy lie, but Marbas’s very presence spoke volumes.

A vampire who had lived eons.

Not a foe upon whom simple lies could be inflicted.

There was an oppressive aura that dissuaded any with deceitful intent from even daring to step forward.

“I’ll speak,”

Ian said, overcoming that aura.

“We’re an adventurer clan from a village at odds with the human nobility and in dire straits.”

“Brave indeed.”

“The nobles have coin, and those who tormented us came endlessly to our village. Hansel told us we might find our answer here.”

All of it was true.

Doubt did not flicker within Marbas’s deep amber eyes.

Yet still, the captivating pressure did not abate.

‘Gretel, Hansel’s mother, how many years did she shield Hansel within such pressure as this?’

Awe filled them all.

For the sake of saving their child, a parent truly could face any adversity.

“Given the chance to reunite with the dead, with whom do you wish to be rejoined?”

“Family.”

“You must have lost family, then.”

Ian recalled his own mother and father, never to be seen again.

For a sinister mindbinder, turning falsehood into truth was no unfamiliar task.

Neither was overlaying a requested truth with yet another truth.

Or covering with expression instead of words.

Or conjuring the needed emotion at the needed moment.

Mindbending was convenient, yes, but for that reason, it hastened the Saintess’s detection, and the more it was used, the more it revealed its own existence, leading to ruin.

Because it possessed the power to twist the hearts of men, paradoxically, one had to hone the skill of handling those hearts.

The greatest mindbender was one who could manipulate and deceive the hearts of others without even using mindbending.

Marbas’s lie had already been revealed by Hansel.

Ian’s lie remained concealed.

“Indeed. Hansel and Gretel. A mother and son who bear such resemblance. Congratulations, Hansel. You have succeeded in the bargain.”

“…When will the contract be enacted?”

“This very instant.”

Marbas extended a hand, opening the spire’s window.

A single drop of blood, dripping from a fingertip pierced by the pointed window frame, became a small bat and flew away beyond the thick blood-mist, to somewhere.

A short time later, the bat returned, along with a carriage cutting through the fog, heralded by the sound of bells.

“Hansel. And the woman. Enter the carriage. I permit only one to accompany you. The others are mere amusement. Feel free to remain in the castle, or to follow. But only one may ride in the carriage.”

“…Ian. You will accompany my son.”

“A choice as peculiar as fate itself. I can only hope a day of regret does not come to pass.”

Knowing Marbas’s true nature through Hansel’s story, it was a warning all the more meaningful.

Teresa turned to look at her comrades.

All of them nodded.

From the moment they demanded qualification for riding in the carriage, everyone understood.

The heart of the Blood Forest.

Even deeper, towards the keep’s inner sanctum, a thick, crimson mist bloomed, obscuring everything beyond arm’s reach.

Surely, within that fog, danger lurked, threatening any who did not ride within the carriage.

Without a word, her comrades made it clear they would brave that danger, following behind.

Marbas’ ancient heart began to stir with anticipation.

Lonowe, who orchestrated the ‘Lion’s Revival’ transaction – an endeavor that could never be legitimate – and Hansel, who agreed to the flawed bargain, the hardy humans he’d brought with him, and now his own companions.

The misfortune that awaited them all was a delectable prospect.

* * *

Marbas signaled with a gesture, a silent command.

The carriage began to move slowly forward, into the curtain of crimson mist.

Following the carriage as it vanished into the fog, the group used only the sound of the bell ringing from within as their guiding star.

“Hold hands tight, everyone. The malevolent energy of this fog is so thick, it’ll obscure you from my senses. There won’t be any simpletons scratching an itch and becoming lost, right~?”

“Even a beastkin’s nose is numbed by the scent of blood, nya! We absolutely mustn’t lose the others, nya!”

The fog was dense, and their senses dulled.

All they could rely on was each other’s body heat and the fading chime of the bell.

Even so, it was just the distance between the spire and the inner keep.

If they endured just a little longer, they could catch up quickly.

No matter how terrifying the sounds of beasts emanating from the fog might be.

No matter how much they feared if everyone was truly still there beyond their clasped hands.

They walked on, unceasing.

With that faith fueling her, Cecilia, leading the way, stopped abruptly.

“T, this is…”

Cecilia’s breath caught in her throat.

The building beyond the crimson mist, where they had arrived.

It was not the inner keep.

“Regrettably, gentlefolk, you will not be able to attend our family reunion.”

“Everyone, draw your weapons!”

This was the beast pens.

A landmark within the fog.

The Teresa Clan had fallen into a trap, lured by the bell’s toll.

* * *

“Dracula’s trickery begins,”

Marbas spoke within the carriage.

“Right now, your comrades, following behind the carriage, have fallen into a trap. They’ve been led to the beast pens, where we keep powerful, captured magical beasts to nurture the vampires’ growth.”

“…!”

“The secrets of the Lion’s Revival require a resolve to match. Remain in the carriage if you are willing to forsake your companions. If not, dismount. A wrong decision will be a regret for a lifetime.”

For Marbas, either outcome was acceptable.

If you don’t descend, your comrades will die.

If you descend, you’ll lose the chance to resurrect the Lion.

A missed opportunity never returns.

Either way, the completion of a tragedy you’ll regret for life.

“Hoo. Such astonishingly cold-blooded individuals. What is it? That ease?”

“We’ve come to realize how predictable you are.”

Teresa and Hansel’s confidence.

At its genesis was Ian.

“You anticipated it? This trap.”

“Since arriving at the Bloodwood, every trap we’ve encountered has tested humanity.”

They wouldn’t allow us to challenge the Lion’s resurrection so easily at the very end.

If we willingly walked into a trap they laid, it’s because we have a way to fight back.

Marbas felt instinctively that the collection of Dracula’s demonic beasts, gathered by Ronove, would meet their end in a bloodbath.

“This in itself is interesting. Not bad.”

The carriage stopped.

As the door opened and everyone exited, Marbas gave one last, significant smile.

“But you couldn’t have predicted this.”

The Lord’s castle stood wide open.

Greeting them was the Clay of Denial.

Clay that reflects the being most deeply craved in the heart of the person facing it.

The dead can be resurrected.

Only through the projection of the heart.

Of course, such a thing can’t be considered a true being.

Because it’s a juvenile Doppleganger, a monster that kills the lifeform from which it gleaned its information.

“The Doppleganger becomes whole only by killing the owner of the information it consumed. The host of the memories can’t be an exception. Therefore, here, tragedy is complete.”

The three now had to make a decision.

Whether to kill the Doppleganger, who borrowed the appearance of the one they missed the most, and survive.

Or be killed by that being and complete the birth of the most coveted being in their memories, as if truly resurrecting the dead.

“Ah.”

This is a big problem.

Ian knew instinctively.

What he summoned were his parents.

But parents Teresa absolutely mustn’t see.