The Vampire Knight
The labyrinth (7)
“They must have seen our campfire and come looking.”
It could have been the glow of a cigarette, but either way it made little difference. Whichever it was, the fact remained that someone had been here. And they had come with absolute certainty. It meant they had either been tailing us or had sent people out to gather information. Their next move was obvious. They would seal the entrance, cut off every possible escape route, and then hunt us down slowly. The hunting dog was that white-haired, red-eyed knight.
I lowered the tarp again and asked, “Someone you know?”
“No… not at all….”
“Any guesses?”
“Too many to count, honestly. But none of them are directly connected to us.”
Jenia and Moare answered in turn. Instead of looking at the two girls with my eyes, I read the movements of their muscles through micro-current. Their heart rates were elevated, but their muscles, facial expressions, and sweat secretion didn’t match those of someone lying. Moare might not be human, but her physiology wasn’t completely alien. The chance that she was deceiving me was slim.
I lifted the tarp just enough to scan the outside. A group of humans was pouring into the flea market after simply shouting for us to come out. The most eye-catching among them was the warrior at the front. A long sword, heavy armor, and a helmet with the visor raised to reveal his face. His appearance was androgynous. Short white hair, pale skin, and striking red eyes. Different species. The realization came easily. He wasn’t human. He wasn’t a beastkin like Moare, nor a halfling like Vertea. A vampire, perhaps? The guess felt solid. I hadn’t seen any races that deviated too far from the usual archetypes.
And as it turned out, my speculation was correct.
“They are vampires.”
“Characteristics?”
“As far as this unit knows, they are a race that holds seats in the Guro autonomous district. The entire species works as mercenaries. Addendum: they accept requests regardless of morality or the client’s character.”
“And?”
“They possess powerful physical abilities, receive the blessing of death so they do not die easily, and sustain their bodies by consuming the life essence of others—blood. They also have exceptional regenerative capabilities.”
Simply put, they were strong. And that was what made them the most troublesome.
I narrowed my eyes and listened to the sharp intake of breath behind me.
“Got any ideas?”
It was Moare who answered, not the breathless Jenia.
“The boss got like that, so they’re probably convinced we’re hiding something. It’s not exactly rare.”
When my gaze turned to her, Moare bit her nail.
“Still, hiring vampire mercenaries isn’t common.”
The emotion bleeding into her added words was clear. She was already certain there was no chance of victory. It was a familiar sight. Especially to me.
I thought about it. What choices did I have?
“It’s clear they’re after you two, and they won’t give up easily.”
No answer came. I could feel their anxiety. I could sense them watching whatever choice I would make. And the choice anyone would make in this situation was obvious. Even I could tell how strong that vampire mercenary was. Borrowing Vertea’s words, they were strict about contracts and didn’t care about the nature of the request. The odds of them being ethically flexible were high. Appealing to morality would likely fall on deaf ears. Our equipment was inferior. So was our numbers. Our only advantages were Vertea’s firepower, whatever magic Moare hadn’t shown yet, my own combat ability, and the unpredictability of Jenia’s mystic powers. It wasn’t nearly enough. If we simply fought, we would lose. Even if we took out all the others, that vampire would overwhelm us. I knew because I had once been that kind of existence.
That was why the soldier inside me weighed every option and whispered: Run. This is a strategic retreat. Don’t concern yourself with what happens to those two girls.
Meanwhile, the survivor inside me was saying something similar. To survive, you’d do anything. If you die anyway, everything becomes meaningless. So shouldn’t you do whatever it takes? Hand the girls over, join them. Maybe you’ll even come out ahead.
It wasn’t an impossible idea. We had only met yesterday afternoon. We hadn’t even spent a full twenty-four hours together. There were too many unknowns to risk my life for them, and we hadn’t shared that many conversations. There were more words left unsaid than spoken. So even if they died, I wouldn’t feel any particular regret. My brain hadn’t been rewired to agonize over every little loss. It had been built to keep marching across battlefields even if laughing, chatting friends fell beside me. Therefore, abandoning them was the rational choice.
“Jinwoo…”
Even so.
I felt Jenia struggling to suppress her wildly pounding heart as she spoke. Despite the tension that had her standing rigidly on guard, she opened her mouth with determination.
“S-sneak out. You have nothing to do with this, Jinwoo.”
She was afraid. I could sense the stiffness in her shoulders. There were nine adventurers after them and one mercenary. They were outnumbered. There was no chance of victory. And yet this child, fully aware of all that, was trying to send me away as if it were the only proper thing to do.
All living things are the same. They want to live. They want to be happy. That is instinct. As long as one is born human, it is a wish carried in the heart no matter the era. The most primal desire, one so basic it isn’t even counted as a dream. It is simply providence.
I had been the same.
I turned my head and looked at the sky. Through the closed window, a blue sky was visible. It was a clear autumn sky. Just like that day.
My last request is this, Jinwoo. I want you to live well. Even if this world torments you… don’t change.
The memory played like a broken tape. I had replayed it hundreds of times. Until the scar finally healed and remembering it no longer hurt. I closed my eyes, repeating her request, then opened them again.
She always asked for the difficult things.
I stood up.
“If we sneak out like that—”
“They’ll have blocked every escape route.”
“H-huh?”
“I don’t know how good their tracking is, but this building isn’t that big. There aren’t many places to hide.”
I had felt it when running from the fairies. I didn’t know where those fairies had gone now, but unless the hider was as small as they were, there weren’t many hiding spots. It wouldn’t take them long to reach this food court. Therefore—
“They’ll find us quickly. There’s no way to sneak out.”
“B-but still…”
“So we counterattack. We secure a favorable position. We set an ambush.”
Jenia stared at me with a dazed face while Moare’s eyes widened in shock. The two girls were still young. They hadn’t become adults yet. I didn’t know if there had ever been a decent adult in their lives, but there wasn’t one now. There was no guardian, no grown-up who would protect them from the unreasonable crises that kept coming. Not until now.
“I’m going to need your help.”
*
Korven Malefis, knight of the Malefis blood clan, had accepted a request. The contents were simple. Search for the legacy of the mid-class adventurer Dren. More precisely, extract information from the two girls presumed to possess that legacy. The method of discovery and information extraction was irrelevant. What happened after obtaining the information would depend on the client’s wishes, not his own. And what would happen was obvious. But Korven paid it no mind. His duty was to complete the request and devote himself to the blood clan. This was simply part of that duty. Successfully carrying out a request brought honor to the clan.
The public valued mercenary bands made of retired adventurers more highly, but those groups did not accept requests inside the labyrinth. That was why the blood clan filled the gap. The repulsive cannibalistic beastkin, the insectkin who enslaved humans, the dark elves born with cruel dispositions—even the orcs cursed by death—none of them received attention from both the shadows and the light the way the blood clan did. Korven was proud of that clan. He was proud of the blood clan and its lord, the only ones in the Guro autonomous district who interacted with other regions, moved freely, and whose influence within the council grew day by day.
For that reason, Korven consciously suppressed his displeasure toward the distasteful client and location. He walked through the musty smell of dust, one hand absently stroking the sheath of the long sword he carried. Everything visible to the eye moved terribly slowly. Even as he watched the floating particles of dust, he felt boredom.
I want to finish this quickly and return.
Korven thought so but did not show it, and the client, unaware, walked on in nervous tension.
“Hey, vampire.”
It was a slur. He did not correct it. When he quietly turned his gaze, the client seemed to gain courage and spoke.
“Can’t you smell those bitches yet?”
“Not yet. I will inform you if I detect anything.”
“Yeah, yeah… That bastard Dren must have left all sorts of things behind. There’s no way that’s all there is.”
How vulgar. Korven hid his true thoughts and continued walking. The group of ten, including him, entered the center of the flea market.
“There are fairy footprints. Looks like the guy they brought is dead.”
“Tsk. If you’re going to die, at least die quietly. Why get killed by fairies of all things?”
There was an open space along with the stairs. The wide opening from above was unsettling but manageable.
The mage has not learned any direct attack spells. The mystic is a vanguard type.
Therefore there was no risk of an ambush. None, but caution was still necessary. Just as Korven was about to lower his visor—
“Stop right there.”
A sudden, unfamiliar voice. Its location was difficult to pinpoint. It echoed. All he could tell was that it came from the very top.
“Wh-what?! Who are you!”
The shout was crude. Korven narrowed his eyes and lifted his head inside the helmet. The blood clan’s signature vertical pupils provided sufficient vision even through the visor. Yet he could not see the speaker. Like the experienced knight he was, he immediately assessed the enemy. Clever. Skilled. Hidden by backlighting. The distance was too great to close in a single leap. He gripped his sword and tensed.
“Why are you looking for my companions?”
“What? Ah, aah…! So it’s you! The bastard those two sluts seduced! Hey, I’ll make you an offer! They’re hiding something. If you bring them, I might even give you a cut—”
“I refuse. I’ve already agreed to help them.”
Decisive. The position was still impossible to pinpoint. The backlighting hid his form, and the echoing voice made it hard to judge accurately. Korven narrowed his eyes, fully on guard. Strong. A proper warrior, more so than any opponent he had faced so far. A mixture of fighting spirit and annoyance surged within him. Fighting such a seasoned warrior offered poor cost-to-benefit. Once the request was complete, it would be better to squeeze out more payment.
“Y-you son of a bitch! You think you can monopolize it?! Do you even know what that dog Dren was hiding? Twenty doses of labyrinth-grade narcotics! Do you have any idea how much that’s worth, you bastard? You think you can use all of it yourself? Do you even have connections to sell it?! Some rookie adventurer who just started!”
This was exactly why he hated addicts. Korven barely held back the click of his tongue while the addict client gnashed his teeth in fury.
“Fine, do whatever you want! I’ll just rip your stomach open and take it all out anyway!”
Korven suddenly felt a sense of unease. The man was skilled. That much was clear from what he had shown so far. So why would someone like him bother talking to an addict who clearly had no room for compromise? Just the fact that he had taken the high ground and initiated conversation proved he had been observing them. The unease reached its peak the moment the client impatiently headed for the stairs.
If he were that warrior, what would he have done? He would have certainly set a trap.
“Wait—”
The instant Korven tried to leap forward—
Gwoooong.
A roar of displaced air rang out. Korven straightened the body he had already leaned forward and jumped backward. The heat that had been flickering at his feet turned into flames at that exact moment.
Kwaaaaaaaaah!
Fierce flames surged upward. They swallowed the addict client, rose high, spread out, and claimed four more victims. Five survivors remained, including Korven. But none dared move recklessly. They all stared at the rising flames with dazed, unfocused eyes.
A perfect ambush.
Korven clicked his tongue softly and looked up. Only then did he see the man standing on the highest catwalk. Black eyes, black hair. For some reason, the eyes looked strangely familiar. Yet he could not place the familiarity. Without understanding it, he drew his sword.
The client was dead. The request had now changed into a matter of revenge to preserve the clan’s honor.