Festival of Silver Dust and Iron Blood (8)
At that moment, in the study of Gibraltar Castle.
"Urgent report! An accident at the festival site! The sparks from the mage's explosion spell have engulfed the streets!!"
"Arshen Gillarus. That man."
Margrave Crimson Gibraltar had already drawn the sword at his waist and was fiddling with the blade using his fingers.
"Morgania's doing...?"
At those words, the atmosphere in the study sank heavily.
Arshen Gillarus was a baron. A noble, and a mid-level mage promised 5 million gold for three days' work. Moreover, he wasn't just anyone hired by Gibraltar— he was sent directly by Carmen Morgania at Grey's request.
For such a man to cause an incident at Gibraltar's festival?
"Deliberate."
It couldn't be an accident. They'd already confirmed and reported multiple times that Grey Gibraltar had used explosion magic with Baron Arshen in the canyon. There was no way it could be a mishap.
"The fireworks at the festival aren't ordinary flames. They're magical."
Since they were ignited by magic, the output could be adjusted so the sparks naturally dissipated upon exploding and scattering in the air.
"If it didn't burst from the start but midway, it's even more intentional."
The conclusion was clear.
"Whether it's Morgania's plot or not, suppress Arshen Gillarus immediately. Malcolm. That man is an enemy of Gibraltar."
"I'll move according to protocol at once."
Head butler Malcolm bolted out of the study.
"Ah, Father!"
"Yes. You've come."
Soon after, a group of boys and girls entered, crossing paths with Malcolm. Noir, surrounded by three white-haired maids. Letar, entering with Ethan's support at her side, blinking her bloodshot eyes as if trying to hide her sleepy face.
"Mother too...!"
"I've been here from the start, dear. With your father."
Of course, Marchioness Charlotte and the youngest, Ruby, were already in the study.
"...Where's brother Grey?"
"He was at the plaza, apparently."
Margrave Crimson fiddled with his sword, looking troubled.
"Where else are the risks...?"
For Crimson alone, if he had to prioritize by danger level, the study came first. Charlotte, Noir, Letar, Ruby. If assassins or kidnappers tried to exploit the commotion to attack the mansion, defending this place was paramount. Even if Grey was at the accident site, there was no need to weigh one life against many.
However.
"Where are Ellie and Javier?"
"Th-they went out with young master Grey...!"
A white-haired maid with a blue strap over her shoulder answered urgently.
"I see. What does Grey call you all?"
"I'm 36. This is 54 and 72."
Calling people by numbers was naturally odd, but since it was "what Grey calls them," no one in the study found it strange. The only peculiarity was that these numbered maids couldn't hide their anxiety.
"You three, head to the plaza immediately. And relay this to Grey."
Margrave Crimson finally sheathed the sword he'd been gripping.
"This sword."
He extended it, scabbard and all, toward the three maids.
"I can't go myself, but tell him I'm sending this in my stead."
Vampire.
Common knowledge held them as demons who sank sharp fangs into human necks and sucked blood to survive.
Similar, but different.
Among vampires, those 'vampires' were distinct.
I knew their origins.
Where they mainly gathered.
And whom they followed, whose orders they obeyed.
The emperor.
The emperor had moved. The one who seemed silently still had finally lifted his heavy rear.
He infiltrated an advanced vampire covertly, turned Arshen Gillarus into a thrall, and brainwashed him.
Finding a vampire hidden among the festival crowds wasn't easy.
Slipped in at night. Hid in a box or cart compartment during the day.
No matter if direct sunlight turned them to ash— they just operated after sunset.
When had it contacted Arshen? Sneaked into his hotel room at night? Or swapped with someone Arshen called at night?
Troublesome.
Trouble indeed.
"Haaap!!"
Carlos Knight, an advanced knight, swung his sword full force but couldn't cleave Arshen.
"Kee-hee, hi-hi-hi...!"
Even as he laughed while being sliced. Clothes torn by the blade, flesh gouged deep— yet Arshen just laughed with blackened eyes, continuously drawing up mana.
For now, I have to trust Carlos.
Powerless Grey Gibraltar. Stepping in would only yield novice knight strength, and revealing it firsthand would nullify the morning-afternoon festival's purpose.
I must protect Noir's honor. Why feign incompetence for three years?
If intervening amounted to little, better to endure.
Can't upend the plan's foundation for one vampire.
For future groundwork too.
And it's not unmanageable.
Those turned into vampire thralls gained superhuman physical prowess. In a word, 'inhuman.'
Becoming not human but another race— a demihuman— they boasted abilities incomparable to humans. Like elves in the forest, slender-limbed yet several times stronger than humans; vampires were monsters in human guise.
Suppression is possible.
Advanced knight wasn't an empty title. Slightly drunk and unarmored, but his core skill remained.
In fact—
"Haaap!!"
Sslash!
Sir Carlos swung his two-handed sword full force, and Baron Arshen's arm was severed clean, thudding to the ground.
"Kraaaah!!"
Even as a thrall, he felt pain? Clutching his staff one-handed, Baron Arshen staggered back.
"Grrr...!"
No blood gushed. The blood in his veins was thick like wax; not a drop flowed from the stump.
To fight vampires, knights were needed. Ordinary sword swings let vampire blood cling, coating the blade in sticky mucus— hence the need for 'mana' to prevent it. Or use metals directly affecting their origin.
"Tch."
I drew a gold coin from my pocket. A real 100,000-gold piece, 6cm diameter. Not as refined as imperial counterfeits, with some edges worn.
Infused it with mana, tossed it over my shoulder.
Then flung it like a discus.
Whoooosh!
Arcing through the air, the gold coin zipped past Sir Carlos, embedding vertically into Baron Arshen's forehead.
Spluuurt!
It truly embedded. Correction: burrowed.
"Gasp...!"
The coin sank nearly halfway into Baron Arshen's brow. If his skull were sturdy, mana-infused gold might bounce, but as a vampire, different story.
"Y-young master, that was...?"
"Not silver, but gold works too."
Originally, silver was most effective.
"Vampires are weakest to silver, gold next."
Purer the silver or gold, better the effect. Silver worked inherently without mana; gold needed infusion for impact like this.
"Indeed...! Then like this!!"
Carlos drew a gold coin from his pocket, scraped it along his blade.
"Uoooo!!"
The scratched 100,000-gold coin dropped; Carlos swung his gold-dusted sword wide.
Aiming for the waist. To sever the spine and bisect him— but
"Aigoo."
I sighed at the fallen coin.
Not gold dust— copper.
"What?!"
The greatsword sliced the side but halted midway.
Mid-level mage means ample mana converted to defense.
Vampire bones and muscles were tough too.
Full-power bout with Lady Mente, then bolted mid-feast— his mana cohesion isn't perfect.
The blade's mana wasn't enough to cleave through in one stroke.
Real gold dust would've reached the spine.
Since the scraped coin's powder wasn't gold, the sword lodged in the flank.
"Kee-hee...!"
Blade sunk to the spine's edge, yet Baron Arshen laughed. One arm gone from the shoulder, sword in his waist— still, he poured mana into his staff one-handed, readying another spell.
Whoosh!!
Flames launched skyward again. Weaker, but squeezing final strength, arcing over the stage stands toward the streets.
"Kuh!!"
"Sir Carlos!"
As expected.
"Mana-depleted corpse! Dismember if needed— suppress!!"
"...Yes!"
I ordered Carlos, then dashed stage exit toward the flames' path.
I pondered. If using Arshen to target someone, who? Among plaza and street folk, whose death would maximize impact?
"Lady Mente!!"
Flames descending where Lady Mente looked up.
"The enemy's target is—"
The flames precisely.
"Naria!"
Toward the golden-haired girl, plummeting like a meteor.
At that moment.
Thud, thud.
A man with military-blue hair, in pajamas draped with a coat, strode with a hardened expression toward somewhere.
"Cr-Crown Prince! Not now...!"
"Out of my way."
"Kyaa!"
Screech.
He shoved the blocking maid aside, flung open the doors without knocking, and entered the room.
"Your Majesty."
"What brings you at this late hour, without proper attire."
"What have you done."
"What have I done."
The one gazing at the moonlit sky by the window.
"All for the Empire."
"Have you lost your mind? Terrorism against the enemy nation during peace talks?"
"Did I commit terrorism? It was the vampire."
Emperor Hapsburg von Tersian of the Tersian Empire.
On the desk before him lay several recent reports.
"I don't know why the Crown Prince hid such high-level intel from me until now. Ah, I see— because you knew I'd act like this."
"Your Majesty...!"
"Why not understand? Peace talks make assassination even more necessary."
The emperor lightly swirled his glass of red wine.
"If the sole royal, Princess Naria, dies, Nostrum's throne stays with Saint Geo indefinitely."