EP.8 A Monster Lives in the Basement
I'm fucked.
This is the conclusion I reached after careful deliberation. It seems I am indeed fucked.
The moment I took a step into the underground armory, regret washed over me. Even entering a whale's mouth would probably be more comforting than this. At least a whale doesn't feed on human blood.
A vampire that sucks human blood—the domain of the night where that monster has resided for decades. From the moment I stepped foot in here, the blood flowing through my body was no longer mine. The blood raging beneath my veins rushed to one side. What should be infusing my body with vitality flinched and constantly tried to deviate.
This wasn't a problem that could be solved with mind-reading. If the vampire decides to kill me, the moment it harbors such killing intent... my body will become a shriveled mummy without even a chance to resist.
Is the regressor okay? Given her sensitive aura detection, she must be feeling even greater pressure.
'What an immense aura. A power no different from the previous timeline... But this point in time is before [that incident] occurred. Will she be more violent, or more moderate? Will Tirkanjaka, before [that problem] is resolved, lend me her strength?'
What is [that incident]? What is [that problem]? Please, stop thinking only to yourself and give me a flashback, would you?
'Let's not overthink it. I haven't regained enough strength to cross blades with Tirkanjaka yet. If I die, I die, whatever.'
Alright. That's it. It's been proven that the best policy is not to get involved with the regressor. To her, it's just one of many lives she can return to, but to me, it's my only life.
If you die, you die? If I'm with someone who holds such beliefs, even ten lives wouldn't be enough.
I spun around and headed for the door.
"Well then. Trainee Shea. It's Trainee Shea who has business here, so I'll just be taking my leave..."
Bang.
The iron door slammed shut right before my eyes. A brand emitting a bizarre red light flashed in front of me as if mocking my attempt to leave.
Seeing me stand there dumbfounded, the regressor scoffed.
"Yeah. Bye. If you can even leave, that is."
My retreat was cut off. A pitch-black darkness that didn't even reveal my own body enveloped me. I let out a sigh and followed behind the regressor.
"Why. You spoke as if you were going back?"
"Come to think of it, I need to ascertain why Trainee Shea visited the underground armory. Shall I accompany you for a moment?"
"Suit yourself."
Since we'd come this far, we were stuck in the same boat anyway. The regressor nodded readily. I groped my way forward, feeling the wall in the pitch-black darkness. I couldn't see my footing, and it was subtly slippery, requiring considerable concentration just to take a single step.
Damn it. There should be stairs soon. What if I slip and slide all the way down there? If a military nation instructor slips in the armory, it would go beyond mockery and invite suspicion.
More importantly, what is the regressor going to do in this darkness?
'Seven-Colored Eyes (Qiseyan) open, Blue Eye (Qingyan).'
At that moment, the regressor poked her own eye with her finger. Glistening tears gathered in her eyes, then began to burn blue. Even within the light-swallowing darkness, the blue flame chased the outlines of objects.
'The fifth color of the Seven-Colored Eyes, the Blue Eye sees depth. It can even pierce through the darkness gathered by the vampire.'
There really are all sorts of techniques. How can someone whose only ability is mind-reading live without feeling resentful?
The Blue Eye sees the world in lines and planes. It struggles to detect fast-moving objects or blurry, round outlines, but it can grasp the overall structure even in the dark. The regressor cast her blue gaze in all directions. The sealed ceiling and walls blocked her field of vision. The only passage led downward. In the regressor's vision, a trapezoidal line narrowing densely like a ladder stretching far away faintly appeared. It was a staircase leading underground.
Without even a moment of hesitation, the regressor stepped toward the stairs. After taking a few steps down, she suddenly glanced back at me.
'Let's see if you can navigate through this darkness.'
Thanks. For looking my way.
I hadn't realized it, but the stairs began right in front of me. Moreover, the corner was chipped, making it a half-crumbled stair. If I had stepped on it carelessly, I would have rolled all the way down.
Phew, thank goodness. I carefully stepped down, avoiding the broken stair. Then, a clicking of the tongue came from ahead.
'He saw through the darkness gathered by the vampire? He's a man whose depths are truly impossible to fathom. A guy who looks dumb, yet breaks through both my Heavenly Net (Cheonga) and the vampire's darkness...'
This is why people need to experience the lower currents of society too. Meeting only amazing people like the Sword Saint or the Saintess every time she regresses, she can't even gauge a truly normal person. This is why she needs commoner experiences.
Anyway, the regressor and I headed underground side by side.
'Why are you walking so close? It's annoying.'
The regressor seemed uncomfortable with my proximity, but I clung persistently. Since I was borrowing her vision, if the distance widened, I might not be able to see my own feet. I followed the regressor down the stairs with the feeling of being half-carried.
After arriving at the underground armory like that, the regressor looked around the bunker with her blue eyes.
The armory, which could be utilized as a bunker in emergencies, had a long corridor and spacious rooms on either side. It was a space created to hide in those narrow rooms and wait for rescue in case of an emergency, but there was a guest who had arrived first.
The regressor glared with her blue eyes at the faint shadows peeking this way from deep inside. A massive horse, its head nearly touching the ceiling, was glaring this way.
'Her familiar? I heard she lost most of them during the Great War... It seems the Blood Mare Rallion is still going strong.'
How on earth are they using the underground armory? Why is a huge horse using the bunker all to itself? More importantly, a mere familiar is using a better room than me. Guarantee human rights.
After casting a brief glance at the Blood Mare, the regressor turned and started walking again. I also scrambled to follow behind her.
At the end of the long corridor, there was an alien door.
The military nation, which valued efficiency and rationality, did not mix art into doors or walls. The logic was that the purpose of a door was to open and close a space, and a wall was to divide spaces; anything beyond that was luxury. Rather than adding separate decorations to doors or hanging frames on walls, carving sculptures into iron doors and drawing murals on walls was considered an inefficient, unproductive act, almost a sin.
However, even such a military nation seemed to want to pray to a god before the Progenitor.
On that door, cast from a single block of steel, a picture fit for a Bible illustration was intaglioed. On the wall was a painting of a beautiful angel with large wings blowing a trumpet. The trumpet was directed toward the inner door, making it seem as if it would immediately deliver punishment should someone ominous open the door and come out.
Sculptures and murals one might expect to see in a church. The underground armory was dark, but the sculptures and murals were clearly visible even to my eyes.
Because, in this darkness, those majestic sculptures and sacred paintings—
—were glowing red, drenched in fresh blood, as if holding a festival of blood.
Facing that painting, I creakingly turned my head away.
"...Hey. Trainee Shea."
"Why?"
"Shall we head back now?"
"Are you scared?"
"Yes."
At my honest answer, the regressor made a puzzled expression.
No, it's just too scary. This. I would rather have not seen it.
If the Holy See witnessed this sight, they would have dispatched an Inquisitor for blasphemy. But if they heard the opponent was the Progenitor Tirkanjaka, they would quickly cancel the dispatch and pretend not to see it. That would only be gifting the Inquisitor's blood.
The Progenitor of vampires is such a being. Whether I am strong or weak, it's not strange for her to receive fear.
The regressor glared at me and said,
"You're more of a coward than I thought."
"Thanks to that, I'm still alive. Fear of danger is an indispensable element for survival."
"Is that so?"
'Maybe that's why I've died thirteen times.'
Ah. Come to think of it, yeah. It doesn't matter to you if you die. I suddenly felt aggrieved.
"A guy who admits he's scared calls her 'Elder'?"
"She is an Elder, isn't she?"
"Sigh. Forget I spoke."
'Forget I spoke' means she'll do as she pleases. The regressor strode over and placed her hand on the door. She didn't apply much force, but the door opened on its own. Like the maw of a beast awaiting its prey.
"Ah, damn it. Mother Earth Goddess."
It can't be helped. If I'm going to be eaten anyway, there's not much difference between being in its mouth or down its throat. Before the door closed, I followed the regressor into the final room.
A somewhat anachronistic torch stand was mounted on the wall, contrasting with the modern era where lighting and electric lamps were commonplace. It was an elegant torch stand made by carving stone directly with iron nails and chisels into a cage-like shape, then turning it upside down. The nest-shaped decoration, carved with painstaking detail, was imbued with the artisan's soul, making it seem as if a phoenix would spread its wings and soar from within at any moment.
A blood-red flame soared upward, coveting the sky. However, the flame's flight was short-lived. This was the lowest place in the world. The basement of some prison in the Abyss. It was far too harsh a place to fly up to the sky. Smack. The flame that reached the ceiling crumbled, and the corpse of its light scattered in all directions.
Light has meaning precisely because it fades. The final room, dimly illuminated. The light scattered by striking the ceiling was casting red shadows.
Thanks to that, I could see the appearance of the room.
The fact that the entire room was bright red wasn't only because the flames were red. Blood. It was plastered with what must have been thousands of liters of blood. On the ceiling, on the floor, on the walls. An absurd amount of blood was swirling and flowing, as if the room itself had become a giant heart.
However, despite so much blood flowing, there wasn't even a scent of blood. The smell of blood is also a part of the blood. Because it was under the Progenitor's authority.
As long as Tirkanjaka didn't permit it, the regressor and I wouldn't even be able to smell the blood.
[For what reason have you come to see me?]
A pitch-black coffin in the center of the room. A masterwork crafted by weaving the body from precious sandalwood, carefully lacquered, then carving a red cross with wings into it. A voice flowed out from within.
The blood rages. The blood beneath my veins, which should be dedicating itself to my life, tried to dash out barefoot to meet its beloved lord.
Overwhelming authority. Facing that, the regressor...
"Tirkanjaka. I've come to propose a deal."
She spoke confidently, facing the vampire.
"Teach me the Blood Control Art."
Coming out of nowhere and asking to be taught a skill. It would be understandable to be dumbfounded, but the vampire wasn't surprised at all. She had grown accustomed to it. Over the course of a thousand years, the number of people who had come to her seeking something had exceeded four digits.
The authority to manipulate blood. Hearing that name after a long time, the vampire quietly asked back.
[Do you wish to become my kin?]
If one becomes a vampire, if one accepts the Progenitor's blood into their body, they naturally gain the authority to command blood. There had been countless people who coveted or demanded the Progenitor's blood for immortality since long ago. Feeling a bit of triteness, the vampire asked the regressor if she was just one of those many people.
However, the regressor had no intention of becoming a vampire. Instead, she demanded something deeper and more fundamental.
"No, I have no intention of obtaining it that way. Teach me the technique you learned before you became a vampire."
For a very brief moment, emotions fluctuated. Intense bewilderment and confusion arose from within that coffin. For an instant, all the blood in the room gathered together as if constricting.
But the opponent was a vampire who had lived for over a thousand years. Her blood wouldn't heat up over something like this. The vampire calmed her excitement and replied.
[How did you find out about that?]
The regressor faced the vampire. Thinking the thoughts only a regressor could think.
'The you from the previous timeline told me.'
Smiling, the regressor fell into sentiment for a moment, just a very brief moment.
Before the vampire turned into a vampire, when she was still human. Back then, the girl could manipulate blood. Thanks to the little girl who worked hard running a clinic with her doctor father, many people benefited. When she was human, it was an ability that could barely do more than stop bleeding. But even that was enough to earn the smiles of the people.
The vampire from the previous timeline had subtly mentioned that fact, advising her to learn from her... and then quietly breathed her last, with no one to mourn her.
The flashback ended. Feeling as if I had been ejected from the deep sea, I gripped my throbbing head.
So this is a flashback. It was a very short and fragmentary memory, but it had its own harvest.
Not only did I read a bit of the regressor's memories, but I also found out some information about the 'Disaster'.
It seems the Disaster is indeed coming. A disaster so powerful that even the monster called the Progenitor Tirkanjaka couldn't endure and breathed her last.
[I ask again. How did you find out about that?]
"If you teach me, I might tell you?"
[...How audacious.]
A short silence. Sluggish thoughts. Thousands of hundreds of thoughts brush past and fade away. Then, at some point. The vampire's interest turns toward me.
[What about you? What do you think?]
Wait, suddenly? I was clearly staying quiet, so why point at me? I answered awkwardly.
"Please do as the Elder wishes."
[...Elder?]
Huh? The blood just twitched. Is she offended? I hastily spoke.
"Duty takes precedence over age, so I will address you as Trainee. But Trainee Tirkanjaka, um, is of quite advanced years. The military nation generally does not issue special orders or commands to elderly trainees. Same for me. As long as you don't leave the training unit, you can act freely, so it's fine if you continue lying here."
Swoosh. Something dark brushed past my cheek. A very thin scratch formed. Squeezing through that gap, my blood, having regained its freedom, slowly flew toward the vampire. Fluttering like a swallowtail butterfly.
I couldn't even see it. I didn't dodge it because there was no killing intent, but even if I had tried to dodge, it wouldn't have changed anything.
Feeling a chill, I took a deep breath and stopped talking.
From inside, a voice seething with faint anger echoed.
[...Because I'm old, I should just stay cooped up in my room?]
"No. It's not particularly like that. Just continue doing as you have been."
[I don't want to hear it.]
The black coffin lid opened. Just like the outside, the inside of the coffin was also filled with pitch-black darkness. Piercing through that darkness, a pale, slender hand rose.
My blood flying through the air alighted on her hand. And then, like rain falling on dry land, it seeped in.
From the vampire who had harvested my blood, a faint sense of displeasure could be felt.
[...As expected, even your blood is tasteless. We are completely incompatible. There's not a single thing about you that I like....]
But, precisely because of that.
And after that, the coffin raised itself. Pushing herself up with the surging darkness, she faced the regressor and me.
[I originally only take the blood of pure maidens. The blood of men like you is usually... used as ingredients.]
The inside of the coffin was still dark. Only a pale, lifeless hand protruded through the gap of the coffin. Into that hand, another blood now flew. It was the blood the regressor had shed to open the door.
The vampire moistened her hand with that blood and spoke.
[But your blood is acceptable. For a man... This is a first. I've never deigned to drink a man's blood before....]
That's because she's a woman... Even with that tomboyish look, it seemed the vampire couldn't even fathom the possibility that the regressor was a woman. The regressor clenched her fists at the positive signal.
The vampire spoke leisurely.
[Very well. I shall teach it to you.]
"Thank you."
[...It is tiring to greet guests after such a long time. Be gone now.]
The vampire only said that and closed the coffin lid. The regressor, having heard the positive answer, desperately managed her facial expressions, suppressing the urge to jump for joy.
'Yes! I did it! I didn't think it would succeed this easily!'
Suppressing her excited heart, the regressor asked cautiously.
"When do we start? I'd like to start as soon as possible."
[Then... shall we begin when the moon wanes next?]
It meant about a month later. Naturally, the regressor, who was pressed for time, couldn't accept that.
"What? That's too late. Let's start from tomorrow."
[Why are you in such a rush? Whether you start now or a month later, there is no difference...]
"There is a difference! A difference as great as heaven and earth!"
[Have patience. The waxing and waning of the moon is the goddess of the night slowly opening and closing her eyes. You need at least that much time to see things properly.]
The two were arguing about something again. Is it time for me to step in and resolve the conflict?
"Ahem! Trainee Shea!"
I deliberately shouted and stepped in to block the regressor.
"A month might be a long time for you, but to Trainee Tirkanjaka, who has lived for over 1,200 years, it is a fleeting moment no different from an instant! Please be a little more considerate of the other person! Time may seem fair to everyone, but it is actually more relative than anything. To her..."
"...How about you consider the other person?"
Huh? With what? I'm already being considerate enough. How deeply must I regard the other person to be humoring her like this?
While the two of us were bickering, a slow voice came from inside the coffin.
[...Right. My actions are slow, and it's all because I'm too old?]
"No, I'm not really saying anything. I'm just trying to teach this insolent brat about the difference in age."
[Very well. If that's the case, we shall begin tomorrow at once.]
As the regressor rejoiced at getting what she wanted, the vampire caught me in her gaze and added a word.
[Both of you, that is.]
"Pardon?"
No, why me all of a sudden?
The moment I was about to retort.
[Now leave.]
The world grew distant; that was the only way to describe it. The regressor's and my bodies moved on their own. No, we weren't the ones moving.
The walls, the floor, the doors.
The corridor, the ceiling, the rooms, the stairs—pushed forward. The world brushed past from back to front. Like looking at a violently flowing river from an anchored boat, a dark, viscous liquid flowed past us, retracing the exact path we came—.
Before we knew it, without taking a single step, we were standing at the entrance of the underground armory. The sound of the iron door slamming shut, thud, brought me back to reality.
"Crazy."
I had a feeling from the moment we entered that I was stepping into a tiger's maw.
Literally, the inside was... no different from the vampire's body. Just now, the vampire had spat us out.
As if used to it, the regressor dusted herself off and said.
"Hehe. What a pathetic sight. Were you surprised?"
"...Not particularly."
I just realized that a fucking scary monster had actually become a transcendentally scary monster. At my response, the regressor covered her mouth and laughed, mocking me.
"I'll give you a piece of advice. It's best not to mention age in front of Tirkanjaka. That's a woman's heart for you."
The regressor boasted proudly, then lightly turned and walked away. I watched the retreating regressor with cold eyes.
I didn't do it because I didn't understand women's hearts.
Well, whatever. She didn't explain anything to me either, so I won't bother explaining myself.
I dusted off my hands and feet and turned around. Oh my. My back hurts from being too tense. Should I just call it a day and go rest early? I should go to the cafeteria and see if there are any leftover canned goods....
The moment I was about to turn around.
"Woof."
A sound that shouldn't have been heard was heard. I slowly turned my head.
There was Aji, who had tracked my scent with the sole intent of playing fetch, rummaging through the concrete debris to find a leather ball.
No way. No way....
"Woof!"
Thud. The ball drops. Right in front of my feet. And Aji wags her tail and nudges the ball with her nose.
The meaning is obvious.
Throw the ball, human.
"Hey, Aji."
I attempted a negotiation unparalleled in history. The King of Dogs and a human. A great attempt for a dramatic compromise across species.
"Today, well, I'm really tired, you see? So, um."
"Woof! Woof!"
"...Just a little. If we postpone..."
"Woof! Promise!"
Whack whack. Aji waved her front legs as if expressing dissatisfaction. The wind pressure shook the hem of my clothes. Something was getting closer and closer; it felt like she was saying that if I didn't throw the ball, she would swat me with these front paws.
When did she learn the word promise, anyway? Hah, who taught a dog something as useless as a promise? You're supposed to strictly teach promises to a child who doesn't have the ability to take responsibility. Even if she breaks a promise, I can't exact any compensation, but if I break one, it just gives her an excuse to throw a tantrum.
"Grrr."
Like this, you see. I looked up at the invisible sky and let out a sigh.
"Sigh. I'm sorry, my shoulder. I'll try to finish within 250 pitches today."
I guess this is how it feels to be forced to take the mound. I picked up the ball. Aji's broadly smiling face was so irritating.