EP.7 Blood-Red Letters
Life is a single book. It decorates its opening with birth, puts a period with death, and fills the pages with the passing years—a book of which there is only one.
If we compare life to a book like this, my mind-reading can be called reading. I can read surface consciousness by glancing only at the newly written parts at the end of the book, or I can flip through from beginning to end to roughly skim the contents.
I could sit down and read carefully from start to finish, but that takes a long time and is dangerous for me, so I'll pass.
The capital of the military nation, Amitengrad, was a great monster that had swallowed the surrounding cities and grown massive. Having experienced explosive growth, the city pushed everything that was originally there outward as it expanded.
People, houses, money, and even ideologies.
The stories of everything pushed out like that each had their own circumstances, and having lived there, I prided myself on having experienced quite a variety of people.
However, there's always someone above the one running, and at the very bottom, there's always a layer digging one inch deeper. Fitting for the military nation's pride and joy, the great prison, the beings residing in Tantalus were on a different level.
The King of Dogs.
The Progenitor of Vampires.
The Regressor.
Monsters who could reduce a city to ashes if released. As if asserting themselves as existences beyond the norm, their books also diverged from the ordinary track.
To describe Azi's book, it's like a book written by copying cave paintings written in ancient hieroglyphs exactly as they sound. I can read it, but I can't understand what it means.
What is this, what is that. Why must left and right be distinguished even down to giving them names. Why is there a ball but it's not being thrown. In Azi's book, such concepts don't even exist, and she doesn't try to understand them. She doesn't try to explain them either. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
In a way, it's obvious. A dog and a human couldn't possibly develop their thoughts using the same logic. As long as I'm human, the day I fully understand Azi's book will never come.
If I read her thoughts diligently, I might be able to discern her mood at best, but it would be better to just lift my head and read Azi's expression instead. Whether I read her thoughts or her expression, there probably wouldn't be much difference.
The vampire's book can be defined in one word: 'thick.' Fitting for an ancient monster who has lived for over 1,200 years, the pages amounting to 20 times that of a normal person weigh heavily upon me. Even roughly skimming through it requires mental preparation for the volume.
It would be one thing if there wasn't much content, but her life has been so turbulent that she's writing some grand epic. The awakening as a vampire, the history of humiliation and persecution, the long history of struggle, reign and fall, flight and eternal slumber.... Even what I saw from roughly flipping through was this much, so I absolutely couldn't bring myself to touch it. Moreover, since it also reflects the zeitgeist of those eras, it's even more arcane.
A classical literature researcher would fall in love with this book, but unfortunately, the book of the mind can only be read by me.
I am not a classical literature researcher.
Lastly, the regressor.
The regressor's book did not fall under any type. If I were to call it a regressor's book, it would be a 14-volume series that should never exist, and shouldn't exist.
Clearly, even though she had put a period to one life. Even though she had met her own ending, miserable as it was, it was a rule-breaking life that just kept going. A loathsome tale dragged out by an author clinging to lingering regrets. One that didn't even show signs of ending....
Because of that, I became greatly perplexed.
I clearly read it, but I couldn't understand it.
She lives this current life, but the principles of action, ideology, experience, acquired abilities, and equipment are all things she gained from her past lives. The reasons for her actions, the enemies she must defeat, and the events that occurred in the future are all contained in the previous volumes.
However, unlike the regressor, I don't have anything as amazing as the ability to transcend time. What I can read is only the story of this current era.
If I had to force a comparison, it would be like picking up the latest release after skipping from volume 1 to volume 13. I can't follow the story as to why she's acting like this here.
So even though I knew that I would die in the future and the world would perish, I couldn't read exactly what was going on. I could only infer from the memories she occasionally recalled and the actions she had taken.
To know, I would have to hear it directly from the regressor, or...
I had to make her 'recollect' the past.
"Sigh. One way or another, I'll have to deal with the regressor after all..."
Upon realizing my situation, I sighed until the ground would collapse.
Though it was the Abyss, so there was no ground left to collapse.
In a prison with no room for amusement, if you have nothing to do, you naturally come out to the courtyard. I opened the iron-barred main gate and stepped out into the courtyard.
Then a bizarre sight greeted me.
"Tirkanjaka! I have come to see you! Open the door!"
The regressor was standing in front of the underground armory with her arms wide open, shouting.
The underground armory. A place packed with weapons to suppress inmates by force in case they riot. Made of at least level 3 alchemic steel, the door could only be opened after going through three security procedures.
However, in Tantalus, which housed only inmates too dangerous to handle, it seemed they had stored 'something else' instead of weapons from the start. Depending on how you look at it, it could be called the strongest weapon. Regardless, it was the same in that ordinary inmates must never approach the area. If you approached without knowing better, you'd have no complaints even if you were executed on the spot.
Right in front of the underground armory where inmate access was not permitted, the regressor was doing something like a ritual.
What on earth is she doing? I quietly watched that sight, then suddenly recalled the fact that I had impersonated an instructor.
Hmmm. If I'm an instructor, should I stop a trainee from hovering around the underground armory? I don't want to get my throat slit by needlessly getting in the way.
The regressor is a terrorist holding the entire world hostage—no, a mad scientist repeating experiments on the world itself. She's an irresponsible bastard who, if things go wrong, will flip this entire round upside down and move on to the next.
But if I don't stay true to my role, I'll arouse more suspicion. My opponent is a regressor who repeats rounds to find the best future. If she thinks I'm an heterogeneous existence who is neither instructor nor inmate, she might try to eliminate me more aggressively.
Right. I should stop her. She wouldn't actually kill me, would she?
I shouted with an artificially angry voice.
"Trainee Shey! Right now—"
'Tch. A meddler has arrived. But I can't be interrupted here. If she blocks my path, I have no choice but to dispose of her somehow...'
"...did you sleep well? Good morning. It's my first time sleeping inside a prison, but sleep is sleep whether inside or outside."
I barely stopped my shouting, changed my expression to a bright smile, and approached.
To think she'd actually try to kill me. Fine, I've decided. From now on, let her do whatever she wants.
"...Tch."
As I smiled and leisurely watched, the regressor scowled and whipped her head around, pretending not to know me. Still, she must have had some decency, as she didn't spit in the face of someone smiling at her.
Yeah. Thanks. Nice to see you too.
After exchanging greetings with myself, I walked toward the tightly closed armory door.
"Shouting at the top of your lungs in broad daylight. What exactly are you doing?"
"None of your business."
"Are you trying to meet the person inside?"
The regressor clicked her tongue shortly. It seemed that for her, clicking her tongue was an expression of affirmation.
"Why are you trying to wake someone who's sleeping so well?"
"I said none of your business."
"My, my. You won't even let me talk."
The regressor was so wary of me that she refused to take any action in front of me. It was a truly difficult situation.
How the world approached its demise, what happened in this place. Only the regressor could answer my questions. For that to happen, the regressor had to recall the past beside me.
But with her current attitude, even if a year passed, it would be virtually impossible to extract information about the previous round—which, to me, meant events that would happen in the future.
Hmm, what should I do? I cast my gaze toward the underground armory.
There are no weapons in Tantalus's underground armory. Unlike other normal prisons, this great prison Tantalus is an isolated space from which escape is impossible through conventional methods. Since there's no worry of inmates escaping, they didn't deploy instructors or weapons to attack inmates in case of emergency.
Instead, they put something else inside.
The first vampire, the monster who defied heaven, the queen of darkness.
The Progenitor Tirkanjaka.
As both a palace and a prison for vampires who reject light and hide underground.
And the regressor was trying to awaken that ancient vampire, the Progenitor Tirkanjaka.
From my standpoint, the awakening of a being that feeds on human blood isn't a very pleasant thing. Especially now when I'm the only 'normal' human around.
However, now that I had to open a dialogue with the regressor, if I helped her with such a trivial matter, there would be progress in our relationship.
What should I do?
The deliberation was short and the decision swift. Right. I'll help the regressor.
Would a vampire really kill me? Now that most of the inmates have escaped, I am the only 'normal' human remaining in Tantalus. To a vampire, I'm a precious resource that produces blood day after day. Would she really cut open the belly of the goose that lays golden eggs for a moment of thirst? At worst, she'd put me in a state neither dead nor alive and squeeze blood out of me for eternity.
...My future looks bleak. Still, it's better than dying.
Having finished my resolve, I proposed to the regressor.
"Why don't you just break the door?"
"This door is under Tirkanjaka's control."
Looking in the direction the regressor pointed, where there should have been a keyhole for a security device, a bloodstain emitting red light was shimmering. I don't have eyes that read aura, but it was a pattern writhing with ominous energy at a glance.
"The Brand of Fresh Blood. As long as that shines ominously and exerts its control, the iron door reinforced with her blood is no different from Tirkanjaka's familiar. It will never open without her command."
"I'll pretend I didn't see anything, so try breaking it with all your might. Who knows? It might break if you pound on it for a few days."
"...It's not impossible, but I don't want to do that. I'm trying to ask Tirkanjaka for help, not fight her."
Huh? I just threw those words out, so why did she say it's not impossible?
A normal human cannot cut through a solid steel door. That's even a steel door made of the military nation's special alchemic steel with level 3 durability. Ramming it with a carriage or point-blank shooting it with a cannon wouldn't break it.
And she's saying she could break it just by 'going all out'? Come on, it shouldn't break just because one human goes all out. That's basic respect for the person who made that iron door.
"More sensible than I expected."
"Of course. Killing someone else's familiar is a ruder act than breaking down the front door of someone's house and entering."
"Oh, please. The person who tried to cut off someone's arm out of nowhere is talking about etiquette."
"What?"
"No. Just talking to myself."
Ignoring the regressor who was glaring at me, I fell into thought.
The alchemic steel used in ordinary underground bunkers is level 3. Hmm. If I used 'that,' it seems like it would be a close call. Should I try?
I rummaged through my pocket and took out the chime bell. The very same bell I used to train Azi yesterday.
"What's that bell for?"
"It's a dog-summoning bell."
"A dog, what?"
Since it's a chime bell, the sound isn't very loud, but the space called Tantalus is too small for the King of Dogs whose home is the world itself. To Azi, whose hearing and sense of smell are keen, it would sound as clearly as if it were ringing right beside her ear.
Of course, normally, no matter how much I rang the bell, she would hear it and ignore it. There's simply too much noise in this world for her to pay attention to every single stray sound.
However, for the one who spent all of yesterday with this bell sound, she would definitely come upon hearing it. That's why I repeatedly, continuously played with her while ringing the bell yesterday. I held the bell above my head and shook it.
Jingle, jingle.
"Woof? Woof!"
As a clear bell sound rang from the small chime bell, a dog barking could be heard from afar. Right after that, Azi began climbing down the wall from the building's rooftop.
I'm not joking, she was really climbing down the wall. It was several times faster than falling. The grayish concrete forming the building's exterior wall flaked off as the dog's footprints were carved into it. Landing on the ground with a thud, Azi bounced before the vibration could even be felt and charged fiercely toward me.
It was an abrupt and passionate change of direction, like a rubber ball bouncing off the ground. A speed faster than falling. If caught, killing a person would be easy.
I hastily searched for the piece of meat I had prepared yesterday. Just before Azi reached me, I managed to take it out and threw it with all my might at the underground armory door.
Azi, who was running toward me, followed the piece of meat and passed me.
And slammed into the iron door at that same speed.
BOOM—. A solemn and grandiose sound rang out. Even striking the large bell in a bell tower wouldn't produce a sound this loud. I could physically feel the air in Tantalus trembling, as if I were inside a percussion instrument. It might have been my imagination, but it seemed the ground had slightly tilted from this collision.
The appalled regressor grabbed me by the collar.
"You...! What the hell are you doing!"
"Ahem. Just watch."
"I told you! I need Tirkanjaka's help!"
"Our dog slammed into it, what can I do."
And Azi, who had created that impact, was—
"Delicious! Woof! Delicious!"
Calmly holding the piece of meat in her mouth with a happy expression.
I looked at Azi and the iron door once each and nodded.
"Hmm. It had enough power to easily shatter level 3 alchemic steel. The reinforcement effect of the brand seems to exceed expectations. At least level 4."
Even though Azi charged at full speed, it only left a footprint-shaped indentation. If Azi were enraged and threw a serious woof-punch, she might be able to break through, but the gentle King of Dogs wouldn't have any reason to get angry at that iron door.
Whatever. I confirmed it doesn't work, so Azi is no longer needed.
"You came when you heard the bell. Good job. Now go back."
"Awooo!"
Azi shook her head roughly, wagged her tail in circles, and pranced around me.
"Play! Woof! Play!"
"We played yesterday?"
"So let's play!"
What happened yesterday is yesterday's business, and today's business is today's business. She's a truly progressive beast who doesn't care about the past.
"I'm busy today. I'm not playing. Go back."
"No! Play!"
Azi made a displeased expression and pretended to bite my calf. Sigh. Throwing a tantrum, really. She's completely my dog now, isn't she?
This is all because of the regressor. I should have fixed her habits completely yesterday, but she insisted on watching and got in my way, so I could only give carrots and couldn't use the whip. I glared at the regressor with resentment.
"Wh-what? Why are you looking at me?"
"Hah. Never mind."
Everyone is so irresponsible. There's not a single person who actually takes responsibility among those who advocate for dog rights. They put dogs on a pedestal, but in the end, playing with them is always my job.
But unlike beasts, humans are animals who reminisce about the past. I had prepared in advance for this very situation. I couldn't become a ball-throwing machine like yesterday.
"Here, Azi. Smell my hand."
"Woof!"
When I extended my hand, Azi eagerly rubbed her nose against it and sniffed. I let her smell alternately the palm and the back of my hand so she would firmly remember my scent. After enough time had passed, I extended my hand toward the prison building.
"Oops! Azi. This is bad. I left the ball inside there."
"Woof?"
"You remember the scent, right? Follow my scent and bring the ball. Then I'll play with you."
"Woof woof!"
Without a single doubt, Azi kicked off the ground and ran toward the inside of the building. Watching Azi get farther away, I smiled with satisfaction.
Hehe. For today, I washed the ball clean and stuffed it deep beneath the collapsed concrete rubble. Even for the King of Dogs, it would take an eternity to find it.
I had bought some time. I turned my body toward the regressor.
"It seems there's a limit to just ramming into it. Now, shall we find another method?"
Huh. That look again. The expression that shows she's displeased with how I handle the puppy.
The regressor cast a glance at the retreating Azi, then spoke with a reluctant face.
"...Since when did you become so close with Azi?"
"Close? I only played with her for a day."
"Unbelievable. It's been over a week for me, and she only acknowledges my presence..."
That's because you treated the dog like a human. No matter how much you wave your hand at a dog and say, "Hello, the weather is quite nice, isn't it?" it's just dog talk. You need to train her with carrots and whips like I did.
Alright, enough small talk. Now I had to think about how to enter the underground bunker where the vampire resided.
"Anyway, if it's a door that won't open even with a dog missile, and you don't want to smash it either... We have no choice but to make them open the door themselves from the inside."
"I tried every method. I shouted and knocked. But Tirkanjaka showed no reaction."
"Haha. Don't worry. I know a method."
"You?"
The regressor's eyes widened as if doubting me. Leaving her behind, I fell into thought.
When I first fell into Tantalus, the vampire woke up from her sleep for a very brief moment. She definitely read faint thoughts at that time.
Why did she wake up? To welcome the inmate who fell? No, she wouldn't be that kind of person.
Then there's only one reason.
"We need to offer blood."
When Azi bit my ankle and dragged me, I fell and scraped my skin, causing it to bleed. As naturally as water flows downward, as naturally as a ripe apple falls to the ground, she exerted her dominion over my blood and absorbed the blood pooled on the concrete.
And, well, didn't she complain that it tasted bad? Thinking about it again, it's still annoying. She's the one who drank it.
Whether she woke up because it tasted bad or whatever, the fact that she reacted to blood and woke up is still a fact.
"We can only wake the vampire by offering blood."
I said proudly, but the regressor scoffed,伸出 her finger.
"Do you think I hadn't thought of that? I've already tried it."
Her fingertips, still white and soft since she hadn't wielded her sword much 'yet.' There, I could see a slender wound that was slowly beginning to heal.
"I cut my finger and offered blood. But Tirkanjaka didn't wake up. The blood just got sucked inside."
"Huh."
"Hmph. You spoke so proudly, but it seems you don't have much of a method either?"
The regressor crossed her arms and spoke as if mocking me. She seemed to be in a good mood since I had made a futile effort. Hey, why are you happy when the plan I worked so hard to come up with went down the drain?
Considering that the shed blood was sucked inside, it's certain that she can 'sense' the blood. But she won't wake up just from shedding a little blood. That's because absorbing blood is as routine an action for a vampire as breathing.
Hmm, then there's only one method left.
"We write letters with blood."
"What?"
Originally, the sound of a bell to the King of Dogs was merely a meaningless noise, nothing more than iron clashing against iron. Because of that, until now, the bell sound hadn't evoked any kind of excitement in Azi.
However, when I played with her and gave her treats every time the bell rang, only then did the bell sound become a meaning to Azi. A clear chime that evoked positive emotions.
I explained it poetically, but to put it less romantically, it's called learning.
It's the same for the vampire. She'd suck up mere bloodstains, but if someone wrote letters with blood, her consciousness would surely focus on it.
"It seems certain that Trainee Tirkanjaka can sense blood. But that blood doesn't carry any meaning, so she just absorbs it absentmindedly. If we can write letters with blood to convey a message... At the very least, we can find out whether Trainee Tirkanjaka wants to meet you or not, right?"
"...Tch."
'That makes... sense. She's quite sharp. I'll give her that.'
If you're going to acknowledge me, say it with words. Don't just click your tongue.
"Fine. I'll try."
The regressor raised her hand behind her head and grabbed the air. Only then did the image of the Sword of the Sky, Cheoneum, floating behind her head, become captured in the regressor's perception. I wondered where she had put her weapon, and it turned out she had been levitating it with qi and leaving it there.
It was such a completely unconscious action that I couldn't even detect it with mind-reading. I thought she was unarmed, but she had a sword floating above her head? No matter how weightless Cheoneum was, that very weightlessness requires more delicate control.
That's not a realm achieved by talent alone. It's a mastery of the body that can only be reached by someone who has carried a single sword for years, even decades. I was newly reminded that the regressor had far more experience than she appeared. Just how many rounds had she carried that sword for her to be able to levitate it unconsciously?
I'd have to be careful from now on. The regressor's weapon is closer than it appears.
That's what I was thinking.
Slash.
The sword slashed horizontally. Along its trajectory was the regressor's finger. With skill approaching that of a master, the regressor sliced her own finger just enough not to sever it, then levitated Cheoneum and raised her finger.
A slender wound, invisible to the eye, was carved into her long, white finger, and dark red blood oozed out from the gap.
After that, blood poured out as if a faucet had been turned on. An amount so great it was worrying for anemia.
It was a sight painful just to look at, but strangely, my mind was as calm as if it had sunk down.
It was probably because the regressor who was actually wounded felt no pain at all. I couldn't help but stay still, influenced by that subtle calmness.
"What would be good to write?"
The regressor said, holding her bleeding finger upright as if holding a brush. The blood dripping from her fingertips stood out. I coughed lightly and answered.
"Write, 'Sir'—"
"Sir."
The regressor wrote out the letters carefully, making sure the falling drops of blood wouldn't ruin the strokes.
"Ri—"
"Siri—"
"Ma—"
"Sirima—"
Having written up to that point, the regressor suddenly looked up and shouted.
"Sirima?"
"Yes. 'Sir, it is time for you to cough.' Let's write it like this."
"Wait! What the hell are you doing?"
"Pardon? What do you mean? I am literally trying to wake an elder, just as written."
It seemed the regressor didn't know much about the being called the Progenitor Tirkanjaka. They probably hadn't crossed paths during the previous rounds. I calmly explained for her sake.
"Trainee Tirkanjaka is an elder of approximately 1,200 years of age, and during her active years, the strict hierarchy of seniority prevailed. Therefore, it's appropriate to use honorifics with as respectful an attitude as possible."
"No! Even so, what woman in the world would like being treated as an old person!"
Hey. What are you talking about? If you've lived for 1,200 years, you're not an old person, you're a history book. That means she has lived longer than most countries. Would someone like that really be unaware of her own objective age?
It was then.
[How audacious you are...]
A dark and deep voice rang out, and with a smooth metallic sound, the iron door of the underground armory slowly opened. Beyond the gap in the iron door, pitch-black darkness writhed.
Most of the light sources illuminating the Abyss, Tantalus, are searchlights. Because the light is sharp and non-diffusing, the more shaded the area, the darker it must be.
However... the darkness inside the underground armory was on a completely different level from the mere absence of light.
An obsidian blackness that seemed to devour light. Yet, within the darkness that shouldn't be visible, a blood-red hue flickered. It's clearly pitch black, yet red like blood. An irony that common sense cannot comprehend.
But the one residing inside is a monster who shatters the yardstick of common sense.
Days,
Months,
Years,
Centuries....
The price of blood from humans buried in legends, history, and eras. All that death harvested, a history of blood dreadfully compressed and coagulated writhes down below.
What lies before me is, before we even discuss the strong and the weak, a mystery.
The one spoken of in fairy tales, who took up a page in history books, and who came down as a legend.
The Progenitor Tirkanjaka.
I get chills. What's inside is a monster that has lived for a thousand years feeding on human blood. The darkness that defied heaven, who alone waged war against the entire Holy Empire's Court.
Just as I was starting to feel anxious about whether I had recklessly unsealed her.
[Enter.]
The sturdy iron door opened wide, and the Brand of Fresh Blood glowing bright red looked down upon me and the regressor.