On the Road (3)
Professor Rapens arrived two or three hours later.
"A Red Ghost girl showed up and then fled? In your room, Kirian?"
"Yes."
"Hmmm."
His face looked utterly exhausted for some reason.
I gave him a rough rundown of what had happened, and he let out a deep sigh.
"To think they'd show up before we even entered Dickferji. Far too soon."
"Did you expect the Red Ghosts to appear, Professor?"
"Yes. But I thought it wouldn't be until at least now. Miss Obri and I took preemptive measures right after we arrived, after all."
Preemptive measures?
Now that I looked closely, the hem of Professor Rapens's robe was soaked dark red, as if dipped in blood-red ink.
Proof that he'd seen blood.
"You struck the Red Cartel first, then."
"Yes. It's not something I should go into detail about with you, Kirian, but we had intelligence. We'd predicted it from the moment we left Kirchheis Castle. That's why we moved ahead... but they caught us off guard."
The professor's expression darkened.
He glanced out the window and continued.
"The regular patrol mission itself won't be difficult, as always. The issues reported from Dickferji are minor. But the Red Cartel is the problem. Naturally, they'll target moments when you're scattered and off guard. Just like today."
His eyes shifted subtly for a moment.
Professor Rapens stood with a resolute expression, as if he'd made up his mind.
"We should request reinforcements early. Anyone else, maybe not—but you, Kirian, as the direct heir of the Kirchheis family, deserve protection. The patriarch will approve it."
Reinforcements?
That was out of the question.
I was already restricted in how freely I could move, and now Rohbark's lackeys would tag along too?
I might end up just doing volunteer work in Dickferji and heading home.
I spoke up quickly.
"No, Professor. That would put me in a tough spot."
"What do you mean?"
"You know my grandfather's temperament. If I request reinforcements for something like this, he'll blow up like a volcano."
"Even so..."
"He might even revoke my status as heir, saying a weakling like me isn't fit for the Kirchheis bloodline."
The professor's face hardened further.
He looked torn between my safety and my position.
I offered him a new option.
"Why not arrive in Dickferji quickly and mobilize the city's 'Security Force'? If we leak word that the Red Cartel is moving, we might get their help."
In other words, use Dickferji's autonomous defense militia.
We might even preemptively strike and wipe out the Red Ghosts' hideouts.
"Hm, not a bad alternative. The Security Force could split up to protect the trainees."
But Professor Rapens sighed deeply.
"The problem will be getting that help. It won't be easy. Dickferji definitely won't welcome us with open arms."
"Why not?"
"What? Well, obviously..."
As I tilted my head, the professor gave a wry smile.
"Because we're the Eternalism school. Cities rarely roll out the red carpet for the bottom-ranked academy. Haha."
"...Ah."
I'd forgotten for a moment.
This pitiful academy's lamentable reputation.
"No other options, so we'll give it a try. Requesting reinforcements from home is our last resort. We need to depart as soon as possible, at any rate."
Professor Rapens rose, his face etched with rare worry and concern.
I'd need to come up with something else.
Alone now, I whispered into Iphril's ring.
"Dumroad, interrogate that guy from earlier. Squeeze out everything you can. Especially anything on Dickferji's Red Cartel—everything."
Kraaaaaack!
Screams echoed from the lungs.
This was the Red Ghosts' hideout, where the cries of captured knights and mages—prey for the vampires—were everyday sounds.
But...
"How's the Watcher's condition?"
"Both arms failed to regenerate. Powerful magic did this."
"Damn..."
Today, the master of the lungs was bellowing himself.
He'd barely survived the battle.
But he was grievously wounded, unable to return to his former state.
With so many dead or injured, the air inside reeked of gloom and blood.
Right then.
"I've come to see the Watcher. Guide me in, you blood clots."
"...!"
A massive man appeared, thick with the scent of blood.
The Red Ghosts who recognized him bowed their heads swiftly.
"The Executor of Dickferji is here! We'll guide you to the Watcher!"
The 'Executor'—one of the Red Cartel's upper ranks.
He was also the boss ruling Dickferji.
At his arrival, the lesser Red Ghosts bowed in unison.
Thud, thud...
As the Executor strode deep into the lungs, the battered young man came into view, utterly wrecked.
"Hey, Watcher. Can you see me?"
"E-Executor..."
Like ancient vampires, Red Ghosts didn't use names among themselves.
Only ranks.
Dickferji's Executor scowled at his once-subordinate Red Ghost.
"What the hell happened? How'd you end up like this?"
"..."
The Watcher couldn't answer readily.
He couldn't explain it easily himself.
His halting response was this:
"We were attacked out of nowhere. None of my trackers survived—they were all slaughtered. Seems like key blood kin from the Kirchheis family were involved."
"Hmmm..."
The Executor frowned at the explanation.
The trackers—ranked fourth in the Red Cartel—were their main fighters.
Equivalent to around 5-star in human terms.
And none survived?
"So a knight or mage on my level moved?"
"Yes. Definitely 7-star grade, Executor. And they were on the move. As you know, those passing through here..."
"Will naturally reach Dickferji. This is the gateway, after all."
The giant clicked his tongue.
His gaze held pity.
Gasping, the Watcher spoke again.
"Executor, if I may be so bold—could you share just a little blood? The blood of underlings does nothing for recovery, no matter how much I drink. But yours..."
"Hm, might help."
"Yes! Please, I beg you!"
The Watcher bent his broken body in desperate plea, and the Executor approached readily, extending a hand.
Absorbing blood from the back of that hand might heal his unregenerating arms.
But—
"Make yourself useful to me instead, Watcher."
"Gahk!"
Crack.
The Executor's iron grip snapped the Watcher's neck in an instant.
Red Ghosts didn't die from that, so the Watcher twisted his head in resistance—but it was futile.
The Executor hoisted the body lightly and sank fangs into the nape.
Ssssss...
"E-Executor! Mercy, please!"
But the draining was merciless.
The Watcher lost all color and withered in moments.
Already teetering on death's edge, he couldn't revive—only true death awaited.
Fsssh...
Not even a corpse remained—just dissolution.
Having drained his old subordinate's blood to bolster his power, the Executor shook off his hands and turned.
The stunned lesser Red Ghosts averted eyes and slunk back.
He chuckled.
"Don't worry. Sucking you lot dry would gain me nothing."
Their use lay elsewhere.
As he headed back to Dickferji, the Executor issued orders.
"Swell the organization's ranks and gather in Dickferji. Hunt prey and turn them into laborers if needed. Grow by any means. Got it?"
Terror flipped to ecstasy.
Expand the organization.
And turn humans into laborers—meaning more underlings for them.
"Yes, Executor!"
"Thank you!"
Eager affirmations.
Leaving the ruins' Red Ghosts behind, the giant walked on.
Sinister thoughts swirled in his mind.
'Rumors say the Kirchheis heir—the kid marked as successor—is out on external duties. Wonder what direct blood tastes like. Mouth's watering already...'
The Watcher had known of Kirian.
His immense magical talent, how he'd seized the eldest legitimate son's position through proven skill—all intel from Kirchheis spies.
But even if revived, some things he'd never know.
Like what was happening at that very moment, in Eternal Mansion's basement—
"G-get off! Enough already, you psycho!"
"Sorry. My master said to interrogate you by any means. I'm designed to follow orders faithfully. No hard feelings, so bear with it. Oh, and by 'bear with it,' I mean don't hold back—spill everything. Got it?"
"Aaaagh! Stop! I'll talk, just get it off!"
"But I put in effort. Try this too—garlic jam on garlic baguette. How's that?"
The chimera, made to counter vampire weaknesses, was wringing out the operative in the most absurd way.
And bit by bit, their secrets were spilling—
"Need to prepare a covert hunt..."
Things utterly unknown to the Watcher.
The carriages departed again before dawn.
My suggestion to hurry to Dickferji had been accepted, speeding up the convoy considerably.
Side effects followed.
"Ughhh!"
"Tsk tsk. Such a weakling."
"Shut that mouth for a sec! Mihaden! Urk!"
Lorang, vomiting from carriage sickness.
Mihaden patted his back, clucking his tongue nonstop.
Libiel's eyes were unfocused too.
"Kirian, something's wrong. The 'Stabilize' spell isn't working. Did I learn it wrong?"
"Idiot. It doesn't work properly on anyone under eighteen."
"Oh god! Professor Kirian, help!"
"Haa..."
We had to stop briefly for meals anyway.
Seizing the chance, I spoke into Iphril's ring.
"Dumroad, got anything?"
The reply came swiftly.
Garlic soup, huh.
A rather refined interrogation method.
I'd figured it'd be shoving silver coins down his throat.
'I see.'
Fair enough—they were a degraded lot.
Dumroad began explaining.
Not directly under Dickferji's branch, so he didn't know much, but...
-He knew a bit about their branch leader. Famous, after all.
Dickferji's Red Cartel boss.
Crucial to know about him, so some gains.
-Goes by 'Watcher.' Massive build. Shapeshifting ability—almost no one knows his real face. Probably operating under a false identity.
I nodded.
Shapeshifting was basic for ancient vampires.
Higher ranks neared the original, so the Watcher hid his identity among humans with it.
'In Dickferji, suspect everyone.'
Second: his combat power.
Whether I could handle him.
Dumroad's verdict: ambiguous.
-Around 6-star or higher. Objectively way stronger than you. Could show more with the right setup.
But exploiting situations was my specialty.
So, worth a tightrope walk.
No reason to fight solo, of course.
Time to move again.
'Could squeeze more from that Red Ghost.'
Ah, right—that.
I gave Dumroad a new order.
"The 'Vampire Choker' we developed before. Still have it?"
-Feels ancient, but yes.
"Collar him with it. And tag a tracking spell."
-Release him? Risky. What's the plan?
Hard to explain in detail, but simple enough.
"Time to go fishing."