Chapter 7: Words of Blood
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 7: Words of Blood
Life is a book. A singular volume that begins with the preface of birth, closes with the finality of death, and is filled with the pages of time.
If life is a book, then my mind-reading is the act of reading itself. I can read surface thoughts by looking only at the newest lines being written at the end of the book, or I can skim from beginning to end to get a general sense of the story.
I could sit down and read it cover to cover, but that takes a long time and is dangerous for me, so we’ll skip that.
Amitengrad, the capital of the Military State, was a monster that had grown by devouring the surrounding cities. In its explosive growth, the city had swelled, pushing everything that was originally there to the outskirts.
People, houses, money, even ideas.
The stories of those who were pushed out were all tragic, and having lived there myself, I prided myself on having experienced a fair variety of people.
But there’s always a bigger fish, and beneath the bottom, there’s always a deeper pit. Befitting the Military State’s great prison, the beings residing in Tantalus were on another level entirely.
The Dog King.
The Progenitor of Vampires.
The Regressor.
Monsters who could lay waste to an entire city if let loose. As if to assert their own extraordinary nature, their “books” were also unlike any other.
To describe Azzy’s book, it’s like a text written by phonetically transcribing an ancient cave painting. You can read it, but you can’t understand what it means.
What is this, what is that? Why must left and right be distinguished with their own names? There’s a ball, so why isn’t it being thrown? In Azzy’s book, such concepts don’t even exist, and there’s no attempt to understand them. Nor is there any attempt to explain them. It’s all treated as perfectly natural.
In a way, it makes sense. A dog and a human could never follow the same logic. As long as I am human, the day I fully understand Azzy’s book will never come.
If I read her thoughts diligently, I might be able to grasp her mood, but I’d be better off just looking up at her face. There’s little difference between reading her thoughts and reading her expression.
The vampire’s book can be defined in a single word: “thick.” As befits an ancient monster who has lived for over 1,200 years, its pages, twenty times that of a normal human’s, weigh down on me. The sheer volume is enough to require mental preparation just to skim it.
It would be one thing if it were empty, but her life has been so turbulent that it reads like a grand epic. Her awakening as a vampire, a history of scorn and persecution, a long history of struggle, her reign and fall, her flight and eternal slumber… That’s just what I saw from a brief skim, so I don’t dare delve any deeper. Furthermore, it reflects the society of each era, making it all the more abstruse.
A scholar of ancient literature would fall in love with it, but unfortunately, I am the only one who can read the books of the heart.
And I am no scholar of ancient literature.
Finally, the Regressor.
The Regressor’s book didn’t fit into any category. If I had to describe it, it was a 14-volume series… something that should never exist.
A life that continues on like a cheat, even after reaching its end. A tedious story dragged out by a writer who can’t let go, even after a conclusion, however miserable, has been met. And what’s worse, there’s no end in sight…
Because of this, I found myself in a great deal of trouble.
I could read it, but I couldn’t understand it.
She lives this current life, but her motivations, ideology, experiences, and even the abilities and equipment she’s acquired were all from her past lives. The reasons for her actions, the enemies she must defeat, the events that happened in the future—all of it is recorded in the previous volumes.
But unlike the Regressor, I have no grand power to leap through time. I can only read the story of this current era.
To use an analogy, it’s like picking up the latest volume after skipping volumes one through thirteen. I can’t follow the story or understand why she’s doing what she’s doing.
So, even though I knew that I would die in the future and the world would end, I couldn’t read how it all came to be. I could only infer from the memories she occasionally recalled and the actions she took.
To know more, I would have to hear it from the Regressor herself, or…
I had to make her reminisce about the past.
“Sigh. Either way, I guess I’ll have to stick close to the Regressor…”
Realizing my predicament, I let out a sigh deep enough to make the ground collapse.
Not that there was any more ground to collapse here in the Abyss.
In a prison with no entertainment, one naturally wanders out into the yard when there’s nothing to do. I opened the barred main gate and stepped outside.
An utterly bizarre scene greeted me.
“Tyrkanzyaka! I have come to see you! Open the door!”
The Regressor was standing in front of the underground armory, arms outstretched, shouting.
The underground armory. A place filled with weapons for suppressing prisoners in case of a riot. It was made of at least Grade-3 Alchemic Steel, and its door could only be opened after passing through three security procedures.
However, in Tantalus, a prison for inmates who couldn’t be controlled, it seemed they had stored ‘something else’ inside instead of weapons. In a way, it could be called the ultimate weapon. In any case, it was an area that ordinary prisoners were absolutely forbidden to approach. Anyone who wandered near without knowing better couldn’t complain if they were executed on the spot, no questions asked.
And right there, in front of the underground armory where no prisoner was allowed, the Regressor was performing some kind of ritual.
What on earth is she doing? I watched her for a moment, then suddenly remembered I was impersonating a warden.
Hiss. If I’m a warden, am I supposed to stop a trainee from loitering around the underground armory? I’d rather not get my head chopped off for trying.
The Regressor was a terrorist holding the entire world hostage—no, a mad scientist repeating experiments on the world itself. She was an irresponsible brat who would flip the board on this entire timeline and move on to the next if things went south.
But if I don’t play my part, I’ll arouse more suspicion. My opponent is a Regressor, someone who repeats timelines to find the best possible future. If she thinks I’m some anomaly, neither warden nor prisoner, she might try to eliminate me more actively.
Right. I’ll stop her. She wouldn’t actually kill me, would she?
I feigned an angry voice and shouted.
“Trainee Shei! What are you do—!”
‘Tch. An interruption. But I can’t be stopped here. If he gets in my way, I’ll just have to get rid of him…’
“—ing so well this fine morning? Good morning. It’s my first time sleeping in a prison, but I suppose sleep is sleep, whether you’re inside or out.”
I barely managed to stop my shouting, changing my expression to a bright smile as I approached.
I can’t believe she was actually going to kill me. Alright, I’ve made up my mind. From now on, I’ll let her do whatever she wants.
“…Tch.”
As I watched her with a relaxed smile, the Regressor’s face soured. She whipped her head away, pretending not to know me. At least she had the decency not to spit in the face of a smiling person.
Yep. Thank you. Nice to meet you, too.
After a one-sided exchange of greetings, I walked toward the tightly shut armory door.
“Shouting your lungs out in broad daylight. What exactly are you doing?”
“None of your business.”
“Trying to meet the person inside?”
The Regressor clicked her tongue with a short “Tch.” It seemed that for her, clicking her tongue was a sign of affirmation.
“Why are you trying to wake someone who’s sleeping so soundly?”
“I said it’s none of your business.”
“My, my. Can’t even make conversation.”
The Regressor was so wary of me that she refused to take any action in my presence. It was truly a predicament.
How the world was heading toward destruction, what had happened here… only the Regressor could answer my questions. For that to happen, she needed to reminisce about the past near me.
But with her current attitude, it would be a distant dream to dig up information about the previous timeline—my future—even after a year.
Hmm, what to do. I glanced at the underground armory.
There are no weapons in the underground armory of Tantalus. Unlike other ordinary prisons, this great prison, Tantalus, is an isolated space from which escape is impossible by normal means. Since there was no fear of prisoners escaping, neither wardens nor weapons to attack them in an emergency were stationed here.
Instead, they put something else inside.
The first vampire, the monster who defied heaven, the Queen of Darkness.
The Progenitor, Tyrkanzyaka.
A palace and a prison for the vampire who rejected the light and hid underground.
And the Regressor was trying to awaken that ancient vampire, the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka.
From my perspective, the awakening of a being that feeds on human blood is not a pleasant event. Especially now, when I’m the only proper human here.
But now that I need to get the Regressor to talk, resolving this trivial matter for her might advance our relationship.
What should I do?
My deliberation was short, my decision swift. Right. I’ll help the Regressor.
Would a vampire really kill me? With most of the prisoners having escaped, I am the only ‘ordinary’ human left in Tantalus. To a vampire, I’m a precious resource that produces blood day after day. Would she really kill the goose that lays the golden eggs for a moment’s thirst? At worst, she’d probably just turn me into a living-dead thing and drain my blood for eternity.
…The future looks bleak. Still, it’s better than dying.
Having made my decision, I made a proposal to the Regressor.
“Why don’t you just break the door down?”
“This door is under Tyrkanzyaka’s control.”
I looked where the Regressor pointed. In the keyhole where a security device should have been, a bloodstain glowed with a red light. I don’t have an eye for reading auras, but it was clearly a symbol overflowing with ominous energy.
“The Sanguine Mark. As long as that thing glows ominously and exerts its control, this iron door, reinforced with her blood, is no different from Tyrkanzyaka’s familiar. It will never open without her command.”
“I’ll look the other way, so try breaking it with all your might. Who knows? Maybe it’ll break if you pound on it for a few days.”
“…It’s not impossible, but I don’t want to do that. I’m here to ask for Tyrkanzyaka’s help, not to fight her.”
Huh? I just threw that out there, why is she saying it’s not impossible?
A normal human can’t cut through a solid steel door. What’s more, that’s a special Military State-made alchemic steel door with a Level 3 hardness. You couldn’t break it by ramming it with a carriage or hitting it with a cannon at point-blank range.
And she can break that just by using her ‘full strength’? Come on, it shouldn’t break just because one person gives it their all. That’s just disrespectful to the people who made the door.
“You’re more reasonable than I thought.”
“Of course. Killing someone’s familiar is even more rude than breaking down their front door.”
“Well, I’ll be. The person who tried to chop off someone’s arm without warning is talking about manners.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”
I ignored the Regressor’s glare and fell into thought.
The alchemic steel used in a typical underground bunker is Level 3. Hmm. If I use that, it might just barely work. Should I try it?
I rummaged through my pocket and pulled out a bell. The very same one I used to train Azzy yesterday.
“What’s that bell for?”
“It’s a dog bell.”
“A dog what?”
Since it was a small handbell, the sound wasn’t very loud, but the space of Tantalus is too small for the Dog King, for whom the world is her home. For Azzy, with her sensitive hearing and smell, it would ring as clearly as if it were right next to her ear.
Of course, normally, she would have ignored it no matter how much I rang it. There are too many sounds in this world for her to pay attention to every little noise.
But the one who spent all of yesterday with this bell sound would definitely come. That’s why I kept playing with her yesterday, ringing the bell over and over. I raised the bell above my head and shook it.
Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling.
“Woof? Woof!”
As the clear sound of the bell rang out, the sound of a dog barking came from the distance. Immediately after, Azzy began to leap down from the roof of the building, running along the wall.
I’m not kidding, she was literally running down the wall. At a speed several times faster than falling. The grayish-white concrete of the building’s exterior was chipped away, leaving behind the paw prints of a dog. With a thud, she landed on the ground, and before the vibration could even be felt, she bounced off and charged fiercely toward me.
It was a sudden, violent change of direction, like a rubber ball bouncing off the ground. A speed faster than falling. If she hit someone, she would kill them easily.
I frantically searched for the piece of meat I had prepared yesterday. I managed to pull it out just before Azzy reached me and threw it at the underground armory door.
Azzy, who had been charging, followed the piece of meat past me.
And slammed into the iron door at full speed.
CRASH—. A magnificent, resounding boom echoed. Not even striking the great bell in a bell tower would produce a louder sound. As if I were inside a percussion instrument, I could feel the air of Tantalus tremble. It might have been my imagination, but I felt like the ground tilted slightly from the impact.
The astonished Regressor grabbed me by the collar.
“You…! What the hell are you doing!”
“Now, now. Just watch.”
“I told you! I need Tyrkanzyaka’s help!”
“What can I do? My dog ran into it.”
And Azzy, who had created that impact…
“Yummy! Woof! Yummy!”
…was calmly holding the piece of meat in her mouth, a happy expression on her face.
I glanced between Azzy and the iron door and nodded.
“Hmm. It had enough force to shatter Level 3 alchemic steel with ease. The mark’s reinforcement effect must be stronger than I thought. Level 4, at least.”
Even though Azzy had slammed into it at full speed, it had only left a paw-shaped dent. If Azzy got angry and threw a true doggy punch, she might be able to break through, but the gentle Dog King would have no reason to get angry at an iron door.
Alright. I’ve confirmed it won’t work. I don’t need Azzy anymore.
“You came when you heard the bell. Good girl. Now, go back.”
“Awooo!”
Azzy shook her head violently, wagging her tail in circles and hopping around me.
“Play! Woof! Let’s play!”
“We played yesterday.”
“So let’s play!”
Yesterday was yesterday, and today is today. What a progressive beast, unconcerned with the past.
“I’m busy today. I’m not playing. Go back.”
“No! Let’s play!”
Azzy made a show of nipping at my calf with a dissatisfied expression. Sigh. So stubborn. I’m her servant, aren’t I?
This is all the Regressor’s fault. I should have corrected Azzy’s habits yesterday, but she interfered by saying she’d watch, so I could only give the carrot and not the stick. I shot a resentful glare at the Regressor.
“Wh-what? Why are you looking at me?”
“Hmph. Never mind.”
So irresponsible. Not a single person who advocates for dogs’ rights ever takes proper responsibility. They put the dog on a pedestal, but in the end, I’m the one who has to play with her.
But unlike beasts, humans are animals that reflect on the past. I had prepared for this situation in advance. I couldn’t become a ball-throwing machine like yesterday.
“Here, Azzy. Smell my hand.”
“Woof!”
When I held out my hand, Azzy immediately nuzzled her nose against it, sniffing. I had her smell both my palm and the back of my hand so she would remember my scent clearly. After enough time had passed, I pointed toward the prison.
“Oh no! Azzy. Big trouble. I left the ball inside.”
“Woof?”
“You remember the smell, right? Follow my scent and bring the ball back. Then we can play.”
“Woof woof!”
Without a shred of doubt, Azzy kicked off the ground and ran toward the inside of the building. Watching her recede into the distance, I smiled triumphantly.
Heh heh. For today, I washed the ball clean and shoved it deep under a pile of collapsed concrete debris. Even for the Dog King, it’ll take her ages to find it.
I’ve bought some time. I turned to the Regressor.
“It seems ramming it has its limits. Now, shall we find another way?”
Oh. There’s that look again. The expression that says she disapproves of how I handle the dog.
The Regressor glanced at the departing Azzy and said with a reluctant face.
“…When did you get so close to Azzy?”
“Close? I only played with her for a day.”
“No way. I’ve been here for over a week, and she barely acknowledges me…”
That’s because you treat a dog like a human. No matter how many times you wave at a dog and say, ‘Hello, lovely weather, isn’t it?’, it’s just going to sound like barking to them. You have to train them with carrots and sticks, like I do.
Alright, that’s enough small talk. Now I have to think about how to get into the underground bunker where the vampire resides.
“Anyway, if the door can’t be opened by a Dog Missile, and you don’t want to smash it… the only way is to make her open it from the inside.”
“I’ve tried everything. I’ve shouted, I’ve knocked. But Tyrkanzyaka didn’t respond.”
“Haha. Don’t worry. I know a way.”
“You do?”
The Regressor’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. I turned my back to her and fell into thought.
When I first fell into Tantalus, the vampire woke up for a very brief moment. I’m sure I faintly read her thoughts then.
Why did she wake up? To welcome a fallen prisoner? No, she doesn’t seem the type.
Then there’s only one reason.
“You have to offer blood.”
When Azzy bit my ankle and dragged me, I fell and scraped my skin, drawing blood. Like water flowing downward, like a ripe apple falling to the ground, she naturally exerted her control over my blood and absorbed the pool that had formed on the concrete.
And then, what was it? Did she complain that it tasted bad? Thinking about it again makes me annoyed. She’s the one who ate it.
Whether she woke up because it tasted bad or not, the fact is she woke up in response to blood.
“You have to offer blood to wake the vampire.”
I said it proudly, but the Regressor just snorted, “Hmph,” and held out her own finger.
“You think I didn’t think of that? I already tried.”
The tip of her white, soft finger, not yet calloused from wielding a sword, showed a thin, healing wound.
“I cut my finger and offered my blood. But Tyrkanzyaka didn’t wake up. The blood was just sucked inside.”
“Oh.”
“Hmph. You spoke so confidently, but it seems you don’t have a solution either, do you?”
The Regressor crossed her arms and spoke teasingly. It seemed my misstep had put her in a good mood. Hey, why are you happy that my hard-thought-out plan failed?
The fact that the blood was drawn inside confirms that she can ‘sense’ it. But a little bit of blood isn’t enough to wake her. Because for a vampire, absorbing blood is as routine as breathing.
Hmm, then there’s only one way left.
“Let’s write with the blood.”
“What?”
To the Dog King, the sound of a bell was originally just a meaningless noise of metal hitting metal. That’s why, until now, the bell sound had never elicited any reaction from Azzy.
But after playing fetch with me and getting a treat every time the bell rang, the sound finally took on a meaning for Azzy. A clear chime that evoked a pleasant feeling.
Poetically described, but less romantically, it’s called learning.
It’s the same for the vampire. If it’s just a bloodstain, she’ll just drink it. But if I write with the blood, her consciousness will surely be drawn to it.
“It seems certain that Trainee Tyrkanzyaka can feel the blood. But that blood has no meaning, so she just absorbs it absentmindedly. If we can convey a message by writing with the blood… at the very least, we can find out whether Trainee Tyrkanzyaka wants to meet us or not, right?”
“…Tch.”
‘That… makes sense. He’s pretty sharp. I’ll give him that.’
If you’re going to acknowledge it, I’d prefer you say it out loud. Don’t just click your tongue.
“Fine. I’ll try it.”
The Regressor reached her hand behind her head and grasped at the empty air. Only then did the image of the Aerial Blossom, Chun-aeng, which had been floating behind her head, register in her perception. So that’s where she kept her weapon—she had it floating with Qi and just left it there.
It was such an unconscious action that I hadn’t even noticed it with my mind-reading. I thought she was unarmed, but she had a sword floating above her head? Even if Chun-aeng is weightless, it requires even more delicate control because of it.
That’s not something achieved by talent alone. It’s a skill honed by the body, something only attainable by one who has carried a single sword for years, decades. It was a fresh reminder that the Regressor had far more experience than she let on. Just how many timelines had she carried that sword for to be able to float it unconsciously?
I’ll have to be careful from now on. The Regressor’s weapon is closer than it appears.
Just as I was thinking that.
Swish.
The sword drew a horizontal line. In its path was the Regressor’s finger. With a skill bordering on mastery, the Regressor sliced her own finger just enough not to sever it. She let Chun-aeng float again and held up her finger.
A thin, almost invisible wound was etched on her long, white finger, and from the gap, crimson blood began to well up.
Then, as if a faucet had been turned on, blood poured out. So much that I worried about anemia.
It was a sight that looked painful just to watch, but strangely, my mind was as calm as a still lake.
It was probably because the Regressor herself, the one who was wounded, felt no pain at all. Influenced by her strange composure, I could only remain still.
“What should I write?”
The Regressor held up her bleeding finger as if it were a brush and spoke. The blood dripping from her fingertip was conspicuous. I cleared my throat softly and answered.
“Alright, write this. E.”
“E.”
The Regressor began to write, careful not to let the dripping blood ruin the strokes.
“L.”
“El.”
“D.”
“Eld…”
Having written that far, the Regressor suddenly looked up and exclaimed.
“Elder?”
“Yes. ‘Elder, it is time for you to cough.’ Let’s write that.”
“Wait! What the hell are you doing?”
“What? What do you mean? I am literally trying to wake up an elder.”
It seemed the Regressor didn’t know much about the being known as the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka. They must not have had a connection in her past timelines. I explained calmly for her benefit.
“Trainee Tyrkanzyaka is an elder of no less than 1,200 years of age, and in her prime, seniority was the law of the land. Therefore, it is appropriate to use a respectful title with the most polite attitude possible.”
“No! Even so, what woman in the world likes being treated like an old lady!”
Come on. What are you talking about? After 1,200 years, she’s not an old lady, she’s a history book. She’s lived longer than most countries. You think someone like that wouldn’t even know her own objective age?
It was then.
[You are audacious ones…]
A dark, deep voice was heard, and with a smooth metallic sound, the iron door of the underground armory slowly opened. Through the gap in the door, a pitch-black darkness churned.
Most of the light sources in Tantalus are searchlights. Their sharp, focused beams mean that the more shaded an area is, the darker it will be.
But… the darkness in the underground armory was on a different level from a simple absence of light.
A blackness that seemed to devour light itself. Yet, within the unlit darkness, a crimson hue shimmered. It was pitch-black, yet red as blood. An irony that defied common sense.
But what resided within was a monster that shattered the yardstick of common sense.
For days,
for months,
for years,
for centuries…
The price of blood from humans who had faded into fairy tales, history, and time. The harvest of all those deaths, a brutally compressed and condensed history of blood, churned in the depths.
What stood before me was an Arcane beyond the simple measure of strength.
The one spoken of in fairy tales, who occupies a page in the history books, who has come down through legend.
The Progenitor, Tyrkanzyaka.
A chill ran down my spine. Inside was a monster that had lived for a thousand years on human blood. The darkness that defied heaven and waged war against the entire Sanctum alone.
Just as I was beginning to feel anxious about having broken the seal…
[Enter.]
The sturdy iron door swung wide open, and the crimson, glowing Sanguine Mark looked down upon the Regressor and me.