AFTERWORD

" T he gentleman looked down at the trembling girl on the bed; he smiled in satisfaction. " Well, not a bad-looking little girl. "

The girl, gagged and tied to the bed, was crying, afraid. The gentlemen seemed to be pleased at her tears.

The young man standing next to him quickly wiped the smile from his face: " Are you sure she's a runaway? Darsus will never let us hear the end of it if she's a local. Are you sure she's not from Brussels? "

" I'm sure. She only just came yesterday from Amsterdam. "

The two men were utterly brazen as they discussed the fate of the girl that they had tricked into becoming their dinner.

The youth screwed his face up in disgust. " Ten years old. A little young to be a whore. But if Renault is happy.

" Right. She's a little too delicate for my tastes, but there's not much choice at the moment. Got to take what we can get. "

The girl struggled against the ropes that kept her restrained to the bed.

The man kept his eyes firmly on her neck and licked his lips, where long wolf-like fangs were just visible. " Best that I could get. Darsus said we weren't to walk out on the streets alone. All I've had is medical blood... Five-thousand dinars? "

The young man nodded and reached into his wallet. Renault then indicated that the other man should leave. This motel was used by prostitutes and penniless lovers. Aristocracy should not be seen in this area. There would be trouble if someone recognized him, so now was not the time to spend talking over dinner.

" When I'm done, I'll call you. Please take care of her disposal. You must keep this secret from any aristocracy. Darsus would have my guts for garters if he found out. "

" Understood. " The youth quickly turned around, glancing at the girl who was silently pleading for help before leaving the room. When Renault heard latch of the door drop, he slowly approached the bed. " Miss, you don't have to be this afraid. I like little girls like you. You're just so sweet, I want to eat you. "

Instinctively—or perhaps she had an idea what this man was planning—she started to desperately wriggle under her restraints, like a fish in a net. The gentleman put a pale hand on her shoulder and eyed her. Each time her gagged mouth tried to scream, her small white throat moved. The gentleman licked his lips.

" Some of my friends mock my hobby, but they just don't understand. The younger a girl, the more delicious she is. " He grabbed at her blonde hair with terrifying force.

She struggled, but it was futile. Her throat trembled in the room's dim candlelight.

" That's good. Perfect. " He was at the height of pleasure as he watched his prey struggle for her life. But his ecstasy was disturbed by a knock at the door.

" Excuse me. Room service. "

" I bring a drink. May I enter, Mister Renault? "

" I don't want a drink! " Renault yelled at this unwanted intrusion. Pushing the girl down on the bed, he shouted, " If I want something, I'll call you. Don't disturb someone's fun. "

Renault could hear an ominous sound on the other side of the door, like a sword being sharpened. In the next second, the thick door had been sliced in two; it fell into the room. Now a shadow stood in the corridor.

" Count Four! Thomas Renault of Brussels. " The youth was wearing clothes darker than the night itself. But Renault could see the flash of a white smile as the intruder twirled a sword that was more than three-feet long.

" I've been looking for you, you vampire. You've been much more careful lately. My spies have made a real killing this month, selling information about you. "

" Wh-what?! Who the hell are you?! " Renault demanded to know who the intruder was. Light blonde hair and pale green eyes were typical of the locals in this area. However, the black clothes he wore were holy vestments. But what would a priest be doing in a place like this?

The vampire's eyes widened suddenly. He remembered what he'd been told when he had been banned from walking out on his own. " You're... the Vatican assassin?! "

" My name is Hugue. " The vampire was enraged, but Hugue remained listless. The sword in Hugue's hand danced through the air. He spoke again, a depth of warmth to his voice: " Hugue de Watteau... a god of death. "

" DIE! "

Renault took his hands off the terrified girl, and she passed out. His claws sliced through the air, trying to turn his fear into concentration. He could hear the sound of his claws breaking, but the noise was mixed in was his own screams. He didn't understand what had happened. He just felt himself being thrown to the side. In the instant that he hit the wall, he saw the claws hit the wall right next to him.

This priest had extraordinary power—enough to be a terrifying Methuselah. But his movements were even more astonishing. What hope did he have?!

" Your movements are pitiful, " Hugue muttered in the ear of the vampire, who was now desperately trying to recover himself.

Hugue gripped the sword handle, despite the screams of protestation. He stared his prisoner down, but just as he was about to make the final cut... something strange happened.

" Ngh?! "

A gasp of disbelief and confusion spilled out of the swordsman's mouth. His toned body now staggered backward. His hands were shaking.

" Not now. Be quiet! "

The priest muttered as he tried to control his hands. But the strange feeling crept up through his whole lower arm. It looked like he was a different creature from the elbow down. The priest threw himself against the wall like a madman. But the strange arm movement didn't stop. It got worse.

" Crap! Stop! Stop! NOT NOW! "

Renault's eyes glinted in excitement. The priest had lost control, and it now looked like he was undergoing some sort of transformation.

Hugue reflexively moved his arms to his head.

Renault took the chance to grab at the sword, which had only a few moments ago been at his own throat. " DIE, VATICAN SCUM! "

Renault swung the sword at the struggling priest. The timing and the speed were perfect. It was going to slice his enemy straight in two. But...

" Huh? "

The sword was stuck in the wall. However, the mad priest hadn't moved an inch. It was the sword that had changed its course. Or, rather, a bullet had changed its course for it.

Someone was standing at the door. The second bullet entered the vampire's head.

" Are you okay, Hugue?! "

The silver bullet had entered the vampire's brain. Blood, flesh, and soul were now lying crumpled on the floor.

A young man in a smart suit ran into the room. He approached the trembling vampire and supported him. " I came to see what was going on. What happened? Did he hurt you? "

" No. It's just a fit. Don't worry, " Hugue said as his arms convulsed. He attempted a smile to try and ease the concerned youth. " I haven't had any maintenance. I'm not at my best. Sorry, Rodenbach. You've saved my life again. "

" Don't worry, you'll return it with interest when we get Count Four safely. "

Gerald Rodenbach was a young inspector from the Four City Alliance Detective Unit. He was cheery. Suddenly, he pointed his smoking guns at the corpse on the floor. " This is Renault, then? What about Darsus' location? Did he tell you? "

" He's in the sky. Somewhere we can't reach. " During the conversation, Hugue's shuddering started to abate. Gritting his teeth, Hugue shook his head. " But there is another way. Apparently, Count of Bruges is coming to the city. "

" Bruges is coming here? Are you sure, Hugue? " Rodenbach couldn't quite believe what Hugue was saying as he processed the information. " I've heard that Gie de Granwelle is young but careful. He's coming to Brussels? It has to be a lie. "

" I don't know. But it's worth a go. If we kill Bruges, it'll be a real blow to them. It'll throw them into confusion, and then Darsus may show himself, " Hugue answered. The trembling had stopped.

While Rodenbach considered this, he kneeled next to the unconscious girl. He untied the ropes that had cut into her tiny wrists.

" Darsus killed vampires—his own family—ten years ago, and he kidnapped my sister. We have to find out what's going on and kill him! "

" Don't rush this, Hugue. " Rodenbach watched as he gently covered the girl in a blanket. " His power is already so great. If we rush and make a wrong step, he'll find us. We have to be careful about every move we make. "

" Are you saying to not attack Bruges, Rodenbach? " A light flashed through the priest's eyes. " You don't have to come with me. I'll go on my own. "

" No, that's not what I mean. I mean that we should be careful, " Rodenbach quickly said. He was clearly frightened by the man's sudden rage. He continued with a tone that could have been interpreted as resignation, intending to pacify Hugue: " The next target is going to be Bruges. But please don't pull that scary face. " " Sorry. " The priest relaxed. The sudden rage was gone from his eyes, and his gaze fell to the bed. " I am sorry. I am selfish. "

" Hey. We're friends; don't apologize, Hugue. " Rodenbach seemed surprised at this sudden apology. " It's just a matter of time now. You'll get what you want. Your enemy is my enemy. We'll go to hell together. "

Hugue was speechless. He didn't know what to say to this man who pledged eternal friendship. This was the first time he'd had anyone he could call a " friend" since ten years ago. He had " colleagues" in the Vatican. But that was just in work, and none of them were people to whom he felt close. Those were professional relationships. Since he had disobeyed orders, they were more likely to point a gun at him. But what about this man in front of him now? It felt so nice to have someone like this. He had lost his family and betrayed his childhood friends in order to take revenge. This was a long-lost feeling to him. " Thank you, Rodenbach. "

" We should confirm what we've found out. " Rodenbach didn't really understand Hugue's expression. Hugue looked confused and lost for words. Rodenbach was also stumbling to find the right words. He grabbed Hugue's hands and gently said, " I'm on your side. Hugue, I'm your friend. "

III

R ay Blunt arrived at Brussels Central Station, Gare Central, exactly at six o'clock. The gaslights had just been lit. People on their way home began to flood in.

" What the hell is he thinking, getting a police inspector to do these menial chores? " Blunt grumbled to the middle-aged man wearing a similar uniform who was walking next to him. Blunts gaze darted around the station like a jumpy mouse. " Even if it is Count of Bruges, he should have sent someone else. This is just too much from Darsus. This just makes a mockery of my position. "

" I wouldn't think too much about it. I'm sure His Excellency simply puts faith in your abilities as an inspector. "

The two men approached the VIP entrance. The entrance had been installed so important visitors could be protected from the crowds, media, and potential terrorists. They showed their identity cards and went inside.

The middle-aged man, Marlet, tried to placate his superior: " I'm sure that His Excellency wanted to send a police inspector to show Count of Bruges that he was being as careful as possible. This is a good opportunity for His Eminence to get close to Count of Bruges. Right? "

" Perhaps. Perhaps he intends Bruges to inherit Count Four. In that case, meeting and greeting him might not be such a bad thing for me after all. " Blunt had the grin of a rat that had glimpsed some discarded food. With renewed vigor, Blunt climbed the empty stairs. The two police officers reached the platform just as the specially commissioned train pulled into view. The platform was empty of even station staff

" Welcome to Brussels, Your Eminence Granwelle. " " Thank you for coming to meet me, " the young man stepping off the train replied politely. He was wearing a simple suit. His black hair was parted to the side, and he wore a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles. He looked like a capable but an inconspicuous official. If it hadn't been for the special train just for him and the ten formidable men that followed him, he could have been easily mistaken for a regular businessman on his way home.

Count of Bruges Gie de Granwelle looked up and addressed the men in front of him: " You must be Inspector Blunt. It is good to meet you. And who is this? "

" This is Chief Superintendant Marlet. "

" Your Excellency. It's a pleasure. May I take your cases? " Marlet smiled and drew closer to the second member of Count Four. He reached his hand out to take the briefcase that Gie was holding, but Gie was not going to let it go.

" I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. I would like to make haste to Count of Brussels, though. Will you take me to him? "

" Of course! We have a limousine waiting outside. We will take you to the airport. "

The two police officers set off with purpose. They walked down the long corridor to the ticket barrier. The young vampire turned his eyes to the sky.

" You arrived earlier than we expected. We thought that you would come sometime after sunset. "

" I didn't want to make it too late. That would be an insult to Count of Brussels. " Gie replied. " Is there a problem with me coming so early? "

" Problem?! Not at all! It's just that this isn't the best time. There will be lots of commuters going home after a day's work, so the streets will be busy. We just don't want you to be uncomfortable. "

" Ah, that's just how I wanted it. I was hoping that the streets would be busy. "

Count of Bruges was the youngest of Count Four, but he was known as a calm and modest man. But his answer to Blunt showed that this young man was still the boss of a criminal organization.

" This Vatican assassin is still in hiding in Brussels. There is a possibility that I may be attacked. I think it necessary that there be plenty of human shields if that is the case. "

" Oh my, Your Excellency! You are very clever, " Marlet said in an impressed but exaggerated tone. " You really do have a good eye for strategy! I heard that you were a pillar of Count Four. They weren't wrong! "

" Odd. " Gie was paying no attention to the superintendant as he babbled about Gie's greatness. Instead, Gie was looking at the empty ticket gates. " Why are there no Terran here? "

" Huh? " The two police officers had been too caught up in the greatness of the person whom they had come to meet to notice what had been going on around them. Blunt and Marlet opened their eyes wide when they saw. The entrance to the station, which had been packed with commuters only a few moments ago when they'd arrived, was now deadly silent. There was a police officer and a scruffy homeless man with a cart in the distance, but apart from that, the place was empty. There were no notices at the ticket gate. It was like they were in the wrong place.

" Huh? Marlet? This is strange... "

" Let's ask someone. Hey! Officer! " As his superior checked the area, Marlet called out to a young police officer who was arguing with the dirty homeless man. The other police officer looked up, irritated at first, but when he realized that it was the inspector himself, he forgot about the homeless man and ran over.

" Superintendent Blunt! Inspector Marlet! What are you doing here?! "

" Ah just a small duty. " Blunt cleared his throat. " It doesn't matter about that. What is going on? Why is there no one here? "

" Huh? You didn't hear? " The police officer was now eyeing his superior suspiciously. He continued in a whisper: " Just a few moments ago, the Allied Government received a warning from the international terrorist, Hugue de Watteau. Apparently, there is an attack planned on central station... So, all passengers and staff have been evacuated. Please come this way. It's dangerous. "

" A warning from Wa-Watteau?! " Marlet's eyes were wide open. Ignoring the tension of Bruges' entourage and the police inspector, he grabbed this young police officer by his collar and screamed: " What are you saying?! Why didn't you tell me something this important?! "

" But the official said... " The duty officer grimaced as Marlet's spit covered his face like bullets. " It was urgent, and we didn't want it to get out that it was Watteau, as it would cause a massive panic at the council. "

" Ugh. " Marlet bit his lip. " The warning was a trap! The station is safe! Get all the passengers back in here! "

Blunt was concerned. He could feel Count of Bruges and his entourage watching the scene from behind him. The superintendent was swinging his arms wildly. He then tried to make himself look capable. " Get officers in here! Watteau may be in the vicinity. Don't leave any stone unturned! "

" Huh? " The duty officer was now confused by Marlet's seemingly contradictory exclamations. At first, the station was safe; now, Watteau might be near. The officer had no idea what was going on.

A husky voice spoke from behind the police officer: " Officer... May I go? " When had the homeless man approached them? It was the same man that the duty officer had been arguing with when Count of Bruges and his bodyguards had entered the ticket gate area. He was probably just a bum, hoarding newspapers and magazines on his large cart. He looked up at the men from under his hood. " If you're finished with me, I'd like to get on my way. "

The officer swung round, enraged that his conversation had been interrupted. " Are you still here?! Get out of my face! "

" But shouldn't you inform the superior of what I told you? The suspicious man I saw? His name was Hugue de Watteau. The infamous terrorist. "

" Wait there, you... "

Gie and his entourage had not ventured to say a word while the humans spoke, but now, he decided to intervene. Gie glanced over the cart that the homeless man was pushing. " Show us what is in that cart. And take off your hood. Show your face, " Gie said firmly.

" Oh my, Count... " Marlet was confused at the vampire's sudden demands. He smiled kindly, though. " What would you want with this filthy homeless man? "

" You haven't noticed, Inspector? " Gie muttered, ignoring Marlet's insipid smile. Gie pushed his glasses up his nose and continued: " The cart is full of newspapers, but the dates are all different. That's odd, don't you think? "

What Gie was saying was entirely true, but there was no response from the people standing around the ticket gate. To be more precise, they couldn't respond. In a second, the homeless man moved with lightning-fast speed.

" HUH?! "

The police officers heard the sound of metal slicing through flesh.

" Count of Bruges?! "

A great deal of liquid hit the floor.

The sword had pierced Gie's chest.

" Argh. " He was skewered. He reached his hands out to the youth who was dressed as a homeless man. He swiped with his sharp fingernails at the hood. " Wa-Watteau?! "

The last words Count of Bruges managed were the name of his attacker. The blood now leaking from his skewed heart burst from him. It gushed out like a waterfall. A wound like a stab to the heart was not instant death for a Methuselah. There was an extraordinary amount of noise as the blood gushed out of its soulless body.

" Bru-Bruges?! "

" Your Excellency?! "

" Get out the way, Terran! "

The scream and the arm that shoved Marlet and Blunt aside didn't belong to the swordsman. But the sight did make the swordsman grin. It was one of the black-suited men who had been behind Gie. " Vatican scum! I won't let you out of here alive! "

" Shouldn't I be the one saying that? " He kicked at the dead vampire's arm. " And this one... "

Gie covered his face with his hands. It looked a little strange, considering the situation he was in.

" I'll kill every one of you here. I won't let a single one of you go alive! " Hugue said.

" You will not disrespect me! " The manic vampire reached out his claws in an attempt to tear up the Terran before him.

But this swordsman knew no fear. His expression stayed brazen. He smirked. " You're the ones who are disrespectful. Come on, Rodenbach. "

In the next moment, there was a huge white cloud of smoke. The young police officer had thrown a match on the newspaper cart, releasing an explosion. The young officer had then pushed the cart and its white smoke at the vampires.

" Crap! Gas! " one of the vampires yelled as they all desperately tried to cover their mouths. The fire had released a powerful tear gas that quickly flooded the area. The gas affected everyone's breathing and sight, so it was very effective. The chemical was very strong and would knock a normal man unconscious. The vampires screamed.

" Hmm, vampires are pathetic. " Hugue grinned evilly under his gasmask. Neither Gie nor his men had put up much resistance. It was a bit of a disappointment, considering the preparation that had gone into this.

" Hugue, what are you doing?! Let's get out of here! " Rodenbach, still in his police uniform, yelled at the sneering Hugue. He pulled out his pistols and indicated that they should get a move on. " There's only twenty seconds of gas. We should get out of here before then. "

" Twenty seconds, you say? " Hugue's eyes glinted at the sight of the suffering vampires. The plan had been to run when the gas was released, but considering the state that the vampires were in, Hugue didn't see any point in hurrying. " Rodenbach, change of plans. Let's kill them. "

" Hugue?! " Rodenbach tried to stop his bold but foolish companion. However, his admonishment didn't reach Hugue's ears. His sword unsheathed, he headed into the smoke and raced toward the spluttering black vampire.

" St-stop it Hugue! Leave them! Let's get out of here! "

" If we kill them, we don't have to run away, " the swordsman muttered as he approached the vampire in his blind spot. The vampire finally noticed the approaching danger. Hugue raised his sword, ready to make the final blow. " I'll start with you. Die, vampire! "

The flash of light formed a perfect arc. If the vampire hadn't raised his arm in surprise, his skull would have been sliced in two. Instead of sacrificing his face, he sacrificed his right arm. Blood gushed out in a huge torrent. The swordsman pulled his sword around and moved it up in the same arc as before, catching the vampire's left arm and severing it at the elbow.

" This is it for you. " Hugue looked down at the armless vampire and smirked. His victim looked up and saw the fires of hell shining in the man's eyes.

Then there was a sudden change.

" What?! "

The vampire was no longer looking his death in the face. The swordsman was just readying himself to decapitate the man in front of him when he let out a squeak. He hadn't been attacked. Yes, the other vampires had managed to recover themselves in the quickly thinning smoke. The swordsman's face was screwed up at a threat other than them, though.

" Crap. Not now. "

Hugue grasped at his right arm, which had started to shake violently. That wasn't all: it was as if his muscles had a life of their own and were now squirming.

" Stop this! "

" Hu-Hugue! Behind you! " Rodenbach's warning was just a moment too late. A flash of light moved across Hugue's vision. The claws of a female vampire cut through the air at a speed faster than the human eye could process. Her target was the side of Hugue's face.

" Ngh?! "

If his reaction had been just a few seconds later, his face would have been sliced straight off. Instead, he had moved his right arm up reflexively. There was now a gaping hole in his arm, revealing his impressive man-made muscles. There were a few sparks; the fingers lost their power. Hugue's long-sword dropped to the ground.

" DIE. TERRAN! "

In a crude twist of fate, the tables had turned on Hugue. He found his words being spat back at him. The scowling vampire's claws came at him from the left this time. Even if he tried to swing the scabbard that was still clutched in his left hand, it wouldn't have done any good. He was caught entirely off-guard.

Seeing that Hugue was having problems, the female vampire took a swing at him with both arms. " This is it for you. "

He was going to be killed. He couldn't defend himself.

" Hugue! " A shadow pushed between the swordsman and the vampire.

" Ro-Rodenbach?! "

The two claws were struck in Rodenbach's back, severing several blood vessels. Crimson liquid oozed out of him like flowing red hair.

" Hugue! Get out of here! " The young man's face was covered in blood; more blood oozed out of him as he spoke. " Hugue. Get out of here. "

There was the sound of gunshots. Two bullets hit the female vampire at close range. The two claws in Rodenbach's back disappeared in that instant, but a huge torrent of blood replaced them.

" Rodenbach. "

" Don't touch me! " Rodenbach screamed when Hugue instinctively stepped forward to hold him.

Like the sun piercing through clouds, little fires were now slowly becoming visible around the tear gas. Rodenbach aimed his pistols at the shapes near the lights. His bloodied face glanced over his shoulder and looked at Hugue. A faint smile formed on his lips. " My time has come. You have to go, Hugue. "

" Don't be an idiot! What are you saying?! " Hugue's right arm hung limp and powerless at his side. It looked as if it were close to dropping off. Hugue gritted his teeth in pain and screamed at his friend: " You're the one who should be running! Leave me! "

" Not much of me left to run. " Blood was pouring out of his severed artery. Rodenbach was clearly in pain, but still, he smiled. He leaned against the wall and used his pistols to keep the vampires back. " I can't run anymore, and even if I did get away, there's no helping me now. I'm sorry, Hugue. You have to go alone now. " " But, I... "

" You must understand, Hugue. " The young man turned to look at Hugue again. Hugue was older than him, but somehow, the youth seemed to have gained years in this moment. Each thing he said cut straight through to Hugue's heart: " Darsus is still alive. If we both die here, who will defeat him? Please, Hugue. Don't let me die in vain. "

Hugue couldn't say anything now. He sighed and was silent for a moment before replying, " I'll go. " Hugue could barely get the words out. " I'll go. I'll defeat Darsus. I'm sorry, George. "

" I'll leave it to you, then. You leave this to me, " the young man said as blood continued to trickle from his mouth. Finally, he managed a light smile. The two guns were shaking in his hands. He turned back once again and left Hugue with a final thought: " See you friend. Farewell. "

His parting words were almost obliterated by the sound of gunshots.

T he Grand Platz—a giant square in the heart of Brussels— was known as the most beautiful plaza in the whole world and as a fabulous stage.

The space was flanked by the " Home of the King, " which was the Allied Government's headquarters and home to lots of other buildings of historic importance. It was in no way inferior to the great squares of Rome's San Pietro Platz and Venice's San Marco Platz.

White Rose House—a mansion that used to be the headquarters of the Brewers' Guild—stood at the south of the square. It was an inconspicuous building. But someone with good sight might have noticed guards hidden in the ancient building. They might have even noticed the smell of blood that surrounded the building.

At the top level of the building, the mansion's owner sat at the desk in his library and took a sip from his wine glass, perhaps satisfied with his property. " Humph, so Watteau was injured, but he still managed to get away. Perhaps I came down to earth a little preemptively? " Darsus eyed the ten men and women who were stood stock-still in front of his desk. He took a drag of his tobacco. " We've lost Gie. Now I'm the only one left of Count Four. "

" Our deepest apologies, Your Excellency. "

In front of him stood the men of Count of Bruges. Their heads were bowed and they all had glum faces.

Standing a little to the side of them was Blunt, He was eyeing the vampire. " It is my fault that we lost Count of Bruges. It is my crime! Death is not enough! "

" You feel too much guilt, Blunt, " Darsus said, shaking his head generously. He looked over at the sullen men of the lost count as he tried to pacify the Terran. " Gie's death is a great sadness, but it is not your fault. It is all the fault of this assassin. You must find him at all costs. It is the only way you will atone for your crime. "

" Wa-Watteau was seriously injured. We have mobilized the police forces into finding him. We will have apprehended him by tomorrow. "

" I certainly hope you do. " Darsus nodded, pleased at Blunts confidence.

Darsus turned to look out the window. The sun was just starting to set, and people bustled in the crowds at the Grand Platz, making long shadows. In the flickering light of the fire, carpenters and stoneworkers worked on scaffolding and a provisional stage for tomorrow's masked parade. Ever since he was a child, Darsus had enjoyed this event, which welcomed the start of the summer.

" Losing Gie is like losing a son to me, " Darsus muttered and then fell silent. His expression was depressed. In truth, he wanted to celebrate that he had removed his strongest rival with little inconvenience. But he had to look like he was unhappy. " But tomorrow, you will find the man who murdered Gie. I look forward to you reporting the news to me. "

" Won't you consider leaving the disposal of this assassin to us? " asked one of the black figures, his arms wrapped in white bandages. It was the same Methuselah who had been attacked by Watteau. " We would like to handle this enemy of Count of Bruges ourselves. Count Darsus, will you please consider allowing us this pleasure? "

" Of course. When the police find the assassin, I will hand him over to you so you can do as you wish, if it will make you happy to crush the enemy of your master. "

Several of the men standing in front of Darsus expressed their thanks, and he acknowledged their gratitude with a sincere expression. He placed the sword on the desk and picked up a bell. " With Count Granwelle gone, I will look after Bruges. You take your revenge. Rooms are prepared for you. I will support your courage until you find Watteau. " Darsus ordered the servant who appeared at the sound of the bell. " Show the sons of Bruges to their rooms. Ensure that everything is seen to. " Darsus then turned his sights to the plaza again. He smiled as he watched the reflections of his guests retiring to their rooms. " The one who survives is the coward. Just like myself. "

They were rehearsing for the show tomorrow. He looked down at the plaza that was filled with fake princes and princesses. Darsus took a satisfied toke of his tobacco. All his life, he had never been the one to pick fights. All his movements had been in secret. He tried to show the most respectable face possible to the Allied Government.

He didn't touch the church, and he didn't pick battles with the Vatican. Even when he had fled to the skies, apparently fearful of a Terran assassin, he had been mocked by the aristocracy for being weak. But look at the results: Three of his rivals were dead. The Vatican had come this far. The Allied Government did exactly as he asked. No one was going to make an enemy of Count Darsus now.

" All on my own, now. "

He recalled the sight of the fleeing Terran, who looked like drowning rats. Darsus turned his eyes to the desk. Seeing the white sword on it made his grin even wider.

Hague de Watteau had ignored the orders of Rome and came after me himself. Now he's lost his arm and his prey. There's nothing else he can do. Even if he discovers my location and comes looking for me in a crazed lust for blood, the White Rose House is protected by thirty Methuselah and more than one hundred Terran. Not to mention the Lost Technology surveillance machines. He'll be sliced to bits as soon as he approaches the front door.

" Cheers to me! " He poured the red liquid down his throat, completely enraptured by his own cleverness.

***

" What about Count Bruges' body? " asked Blunt.

" It is being looked after by the police at the moment, " a guard answered. His rat face made an attempt at sympathy. " We had wanted to bring his body here, but with all the chaos at the station... you know. It was difficult to remove it secretly. It's being looked after in the morgue for a while. "

" I see. But they said that they didn't know anything about his body? "

" That Watteau man is observant. It was decided that it was best the body was kept in secret. "

" Well you don't have to worry about that, Inspector. " The young Methuselah's nostrils flared a little as he spoke with an air of inflated importance: " The entire mansion is covered by surveillance technology. No expense was spared. This is the best system possible. The central surveillance room is manned twenty-four hours a day, so there is no chance of an intruder being missed. It would be impossible for even a Methuselah to enter here. "

" That is impressive, " the young aristocrat enthused. " I was wondering if I may take a peek. I would like to see this Lost Technology of which Count of Brussels was so proud. "

" Yes, sir. " The Methuselah felt pride, empowered by his position. He wanted to show off. " Please walk this way. But I must ask you to not touch any of the machinery. " He unlocked the thick metal door and pushed it open, signaling for the young Methuselah to enter. The many Terran who were carefully watching the monitors turned to see who had entered, but when the familiar Methuselah indicated that they didn't need to worry, they turned back to the screens.

" This is astounding. This system is indeed extraordinary. The aristocracy of Brussels is very impressive. "

" This room alone cost almost the whole state budget. " The man was getting into his new role as tour guide now. " I know His Eminence is very attentive to these things, though, so I guess he wouldn't mind paying whatever it took. "

" But it doesn't matter how excellent the system; it all depends on the operator. Used by people like you, it might as well be crap. " The sudden change in tone took guard by surprise; in seconds, he pushed his sword against the young Methuselah's neck.

An odd noise came from deep inside his throat. The wound would keep healing, but with a swift twist of the sword, the victim's head could be forever sliced off. It was one of the few weak points that Methuselah had.

" What is going on here?! "

The guards had noticed the commotion going on behind them; they all turned around. There was nothing of the young Methuselah to see, though. They started to rise from their chairs... But in an instant, the rest of them were drowning in a sea of their own blood.

" Too slow. A few seconds and you would have gotten me, " Blunt muttered, pistols smoking in his hand.

He pushed the surveillance men's bodies out the way and inspected the console. He turned off the switches, one by one. " Right. The surveillance system is down now, Bosch. "

" Good work, Blunt. The rest, now. "

The man called Bosch smiled. Twiddling the many knives in his hands, he quickly followed the Methuselah's orders. " Clear each floor, as we discussed. But you must not touch Darsus. I will call our master. "

" I am already here. " The quiet voice came from the open door. Blunt hadn't even heard it open. Men and women in plain black suits followed the man into the room. The leader was conspicuous because he wore a different color from the others. He had on a thin mask, and his blonde hair was tied back. " Good work, Bosch and Blunt. But you're thirty seconds late. Please hurry. " His voice was so well moderated that you would find it hard to imagine anyone would disobey his orders. Almost twenty Methuselah and one Terran immediately moved to the next phase. " Yes, sir! "

The masked man watched them run off. However, he suddenly noticed something and approached the console. He touched his rose tattoo and then carefully chose one of the many switches and flicked it. " Humph. It seems that he is here, too. Earlier than I expected. "

With a buzz, one of the screens had come on. Looking at the display, the man smiled.

On the black-and-white screen was the main entrance. The grainy shadows of costumed performers were lit up by the burning bonfire. However, the purple eyes behind the mask were looking at one shadow in particular — a ghost dressed in priest's garb.

Clutched in his left hand was a metal stick as tall as the man himself. The man had his right sleeve turned up. The masked man smiled. " Just as you hoped. A stage for revenge! Take your place, Sword Dancer! "

O ne or two flickers, and the light went out. There was no indication that the light would come back on.

" Is the power down? " Darsus frowned. He looked up from the scheduled memorial notes for Gie s funeral that he had been reading. He took the glasses with no lens off his face and looked up at the ceiling.

Most lighting in homes was still powered by gas, but in White Rose House, the rooms were completely fitted with electric lighting. But the power generator wasn't in the best condition, and there were occasional blackouts.

" Time to buy a new one, I guess. "

In this darkness, even a Methuselah couldn't see properly. It looked like the rehearsal was over and the plaza had emptied. Using the light that came in from the gas lamps outside, Darsus continued to read over his notes. Just as he was about to correct a grammatical error, he noticed something strange: Why was the mansion so quiet?

Every time the power had gone out, the Terran had caused a lot of commotion. Why not tonight?

" Hey! What are the Terran doing? Get the lights back on! " Darsus rang the bell on his desk and called out to the people who should have been in the neighboring room. However, there was no answer. The darkness and the silence were suffocating.

" Is anyone there?! " Darsus raised his voice. Irritated, he stood up and pushed open the door to the neighboring room with great force. But all that greeted him was silent darkness.

There were usually two Methuselah and four Terran in the room. But the only evidence that there had been people in the room were two half-empty coffee cups on the table. There were also some cards laid out, as if a game of poker had been going on.

" Hey! Where did you go? "

He looked down at the still-steaming coffee in the cups. Darsus was starting to feel concerned at the situation. It was hard to imagine why the Terran and the Methuselah would have left him unguarded without saying a word. Something must have happened. Clutching the long-sword in his hand, the old Methuselah carefully pushed open the door that led out into the corridor.

The corridor was silent. Apart from the sound of a ticking clock, the place was as dead as a tomb. The lights didn't show any sign of coming back on, either. But there was also a dull metallic smell in the air—the smell of blood.

" WHAT?! " The almost three-hundred-year old vampire yelped. It was close to a scream. He took a step back. The two men who should have been in the neighboring room were lying there, dead. Their ribcages had been sliced open. Darsus almost vomited. In the black voids of their chests, he could see absolutely nothing. Their hearts had been scooped out: a sure-fire way to kill a Methuselah.

" What's happened?! What's going on?! " Darsus quickly glanced around the corridor. What were his men doing? How could the electric eyes placed all over the mansion have overlooked this?!

A voice came from behind the confused Methuselah: " Thierry Darsus, isn't it? Of Count Four? "

Turning around, he could just about make out the figure of a tall man in the corridor. It was a young man with a long metal staff in his left hand. His priest's garments were covered in holes and tears. His right arm hung loosely from the elbow.

This was the first time Darsus had seen those burning green eyes behind the blonde hair. But he knew who this man was without introduction: " Hugue de Watteau! Is it you?! "

The priest suddenly turned into a demon, running down the corridor with terrifying speed. He didn't have a purpose. It was like he was trying to run away. He rotated his staff toward the old man. His animal ferocity made the hairs on Darsus' body stand on end.

" How did you get here?! " Darsus couldn't help asking, despite knowing no answer would be forthcoming. He desperately parried the attacks with his sword. Where were the electric eyes and the Methuselah and Terran that should have been watching everything?

The swordsman remained wordless. He only moved to continue the barrage of attacks. Hugue used his weight well and swung his staff toward Darsus' skull. A Methuselah should have been able to avoid a simple attack like that. However, Hugue moved faster than Darsus judged. Although Darsus managed to escape the blow, the tip of the staff caught his forehead.

" Scummy Terran tricks! " Darsus felt rage as the warm blood trickled down his face. Finally, the wild beast within the Methuselah had awoken. With a howl, he launched himself and his sword at Hugue. " Don't get carried away, monkey! "

The sword was aimed straight at Hugue's face. If the priest had incorrectly timed his counter move, the sword would have sliced off his face. The metal clashed. The priest took a defensive stance, ready to take on the super-human strength of the vampire. However, Hugue lost his balance.

Darsus didn't miss his chance. He aimed straight for the right side of Hugue's face. If Hugue didn't move his staff up to block, this was going to be the end of his good looks. Just a few seconds before he met his death, he managed to raise it in a magnificent defense. There was a terrible metallic sound, and the staff was flung from Hugue's hands. He had lost his only weapon. He was completely defenseless now. Darsus had won. " Die, Watteau! "

" Those who live by the sword... "

Just as the blade should have finished Hugue off, there came a murky curse. The deathblow was stopped by a short dagger millimeters from Hugue's face. It was a miracle. Before Darsus had a chance to realize, Hugue had pulled out a dagger; the swordsman had seized his chance and, with a grim smile, he readied to kill Darsus.

" Shall die by the sword! Amen! "

Darsus had lost his balance. There was no chance of escape for him now. From the left side of his chest, through his heart and to his right shoulder, a gaping wound had been opened. The sliced arteries spurted blood. " Ugh! "

For a Terran, the blow would have meant instant death. The Methuselah were more difficult to kill. But even so, damage like that would mean a vampire wouldn't last long. Darsus dropped his sword and tried to let out a scream, but he couldn't...

The impact of the blow had pushed him to the floor. Hugue placed his foot on the old man's chest. Blood gushed from the wound with great force. The old man's eyes were white with fear; he couldn't even scream out in pain. Hugue didn't seem to even register the terror and agony in the old man's eyes. He simply readied his dagger. " Die, Darsus! "

" Wa-wait. Hear me out! " He literally coughed the words out. He looked up at the swordsman. The only thing that indicated that Hugue had a soul was the gleaming within his green eyes.

Darsus continued. It was his only chance. " I didn't have anything to do with the massacre at Amsterdam Church! I promise! "

" Nothing, you say? " The swordsman's words were calm, but that made them all the more terrifying. " Do you think that's why I want to kill you? "

" Am I wrong? " Darsus looked up at the swordsman, silently pleading for something they could work out. He wanted to buy some time. He just had to hold Hugue off until his men reached him. He had to keep the conversation going. " Or is it the Watteau clan's destruction ten years ago? I didn't have a hand in that, either. It was Count of Bruges who ordered that! It was Gie!

" Bruges? " A modicum of emotion flickered in those almost glassy eyes. With the blade still thrust toward the old vampire, the swordsman spoke, his tone harsh and cutting: " Gie. Gie de Granwelle did it, you say? "

" That's right! He gave the order! It was all him. I only heard about it afterward! "

" Bruges... " The swordsman looked into the distance. He pursed his lips as if he had found something suddenly very funny, and he started to laugh. " I had my revenge back then. "

" Th-that's right. It wasn't me. " Darsus tried to pacify the man whose blade was perilously close to him. He screwed up his face in a half-smile, as if to look like he was joining in with the joke. His blood had stopped flowing, but Darsus couldn't make any sudden movements. If he could just buy himself some time... " Watteau. I think there has been a terrible misunderstanding between us. I have a proposition. What do you think? Let's talk this all over. Gie killed your family, and tonight, you killed mine. Surely we're even now? Gie is gone, so there is no need to kill me now. "

" There is one thing I want to ask you. " His voice was still cold, but Darsus could hear that something had changed in his tone. " Depending on your answer, I may leave killing you for another day. Ten years ago, a girl of the Watteau clan was kidnapped. Where is she? Is she still alive? "

The tip of the sword wavered a little. Hugue's voice was low but demanding. He squinted, as if watching something just out of his vision. His memories shaped the words for him now: " I didn't see who took her. He was wearing a mask. But he had chestnut hair and purple eyes. He had a tattoo of a flower on the back of his hand. I want to know who this man was. "

" Chestnut hair? Purple eyes... and a flower tattoo? " Darsus almost forgot his situation. He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Perhaps Hugue had lost his mind. " That was Gie. Gie de Granville. The man you killed tonight. Didn't you notice? "

" What? "

Darsus looked up at the intruder.

Hugue frowned and started to raise his voice — the first emotion he had truly shown in this altercation. " Don't be an idiot! Bruges didn't have a tattoo! Are you making fun of me, Darsus?! Or are you trying to lead me off the trail?! "

" I'm not lying! The man who stole your sister was Gie! "

The old man's protestation sounded truthful. Hugue was confused, and he was about to make another rebuttal when he suddenly remembered something: " Wait. You said something strange. You said that I killed your men tonight. What do you mean? I killed Renault about three days ago... "

" Look up! " It was time for Darsus to get angry. He was able to move finally, and so he pointed a weak finger up the sky. " You killed all my men. Are you trying to confuse an old man? "

" That wasn't me. Everyone was already dead when I got here — apart from one man. When I entered the mansion, he was looking for a corpse. I thought that there must have been some kind of internal problems. " Hugue went quiet as he thought. He raised the tip of his sword up. " Stand up, Darsus, " the swordsman ordered the Methuselah. He didn't relax his muscles, though. " I'll kill you later. Right now, I think we've been caught up in something strange. "

" Strange? What do you mean by that? " " I don't know. But... " The priest suddenly cut off his analysis. He heard something move. His body turned with the precision of a machine. A sharp shaft of light swiftly moved past him. " Crap! Darsus?! " Hugue exclaimed.

Blood now was pouring from the vampires mouth in pints. A silver arrow was embedded in the old vampire's throat. The area around his mouth was smoking. It looked like there was also nitric acid in the arrow's shaft—it meant instant death for a vampire.

A calm voice reverberated through the corridor: " Good evening, Count of Brussels and Mister Watteau. "

There were several shadows now looming in the corridor. About twenty men and women stood there, dressed in plain suits. Standing in the middle of them was a man with a bow that still vibrated from releasing its arrow.

" I answered your invitation and came to visit Count Brussels, but you didn't come to meet me, so I made my own way here. I hope you don't mind? "

" You... You're Gie! " The old man was clearly angry despite the blood dripping from his mouth, choking him. It took all that was left in him to utter the name of his enemy. " Gie... Watteau killed you! "

" Ah, that was my double. If I had made it, you'd have just killed me anyway, right Cardinal Darsus? "

The man's voice held a cruel humor, but his expression never changed. He was wearing a very thin mask over his face. But behind the mask, Watteau could make out his purple eyes glinting with glee.

" Count Darsus, you planned it so that I and Watteau would meet. You then planned to deal with whichever one of us lived. Those are the kind of tactics I've come to expect from you. You did the same to Count of Amsterdam and Count of Antwerp, " the new contender said.

" Gie... you... you... " Darsus' voice was breaking up. He desperately tried to point at the masked man, but it was too much. His body stopped moving suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch inside.

And that was the end of Thierry Darsus—the top man of Count Four.

Words of hatred spilled from behind the mask. " What a disgusting excuse for a life form. He always did exactly as he pleased. " The man, bow still firmly in his grasp, shook his head. His purple eyes looked down at the dead man. The masked man was lost in his own world for a moment, but then he suddenly realized the man standing next to him. " Well Hugue, I think I owe you some words of gratitude. You distracted Darsus so that he had no idea what I was doing. Excellent work. "

" You're Gie? " He adjusted the grip on his dagger and asked again: " You are Count of Brussels Gie du Granwelle? "

" That's right. I'm Gie. I'm the man who crushed your clan. " The man introduced himself without pride or fear. He answered calmly while playing with the bow in his arms: " Ten years ago, I burned your castle, killed your family, and took your arm. I did it all. "

A scream never left the swordsman's throat. He ran like a mad dog down the corridor, his dagger ready. Before Hugue could reach his target, some of the black-suited people moved to make a human shield between Hugue and Gie.

" It's all right, Bosch. I will be his dueling partner, " Gie told the loyal servant who had sprung to hid defense. Gie twirled the bow in his fingers. He swung it onto his back as if it were a spear and then threw it with terrifying force.

The makeshift bow flew at alarming speed. With a howl, it hit Hugue's dagger, splitting it in two. The masked man reached for the rapier at his waist.

" GEIIII! "

There was a spark of white light. The sound of metal hitting metal reverberated throughout the corridor. The two men jumped back like two repellant magnets, putting some distance between them. Hugue ran like a cat up the wall and pushed himself off it. " Your Excellency! " one of the black-suited men yelled the instant that the two rays of light clashed.

The dagger shattered Gie's rapier. Hugue then flicked the knife up, and Gie's mask was cracked.

It was Hugue that screamed, though. Protruding from his stomach were the shattered parts of the rapier. Dark liquid oozed from his mouth. His liver and spleen had taken the hit. He was going to die.

" What?! " But through the pain, Hugue had noticed something. His green eyes had lost their taste for revenge, but now they looked up into the eyes of a man whom he would never forget.

On the other hand, the masked man smiled, clearly enjoying the shock on Hugue's face. Count of Bruges, the man in the mask, grinned at his opponent. " Oh, Hugue. What's the matter? Why are you pulling such a face? Are you in pain? " " It can't be. "

He looked up into the eyes he had seen in every nightmare for the last ten years. Hugue shook his head in furious denial. " It can't be. Its not possible. "

" What's not possible, my friend? " Gie asked the priest, who was desperately trying to deny what he saw with his own eyes.

But this man had the same voice as the man he had met two weeks ago, when he had saved him from Tres' purge. The same voice as the man he had scolded when he took the offered hand. The same man who had gone on his quest for revenge against the vampires...

Rodenbach looked back at Hugue.

" Maybe you're talking about the false name I gave you so I could get close to you? Or that I pretended to be a prosecutor? Or maybe you're mad that I took your sister Agnes? " Gie de Granwelle looked like a small child who had been playing a trick on his friend. His purple eyes glinted in untold joy. He added one last shameless blow: " I'm sorry. I would like to give your little sister back to you. But that's no longer possible. We toasted with her blood that night. Very delicious. "

The swordsman howled as he looked into those cold purple eyes, and he saw his own reflection. He cursed the world itself.

***

" Priest Iqus, over here! "

When Tres Iqus arrived at the international platform of Gare Central, Professor was already there. He carried a light trunk. With an unfriendly expression on his face, he held his hand out.

" This is odd. You're not injured? But it seems there has been a lot of fun in my absence. Was Archbishop D'Este secured? "

" Negative. Alfonso D'Este has been on the run since the Silent Noise incident. "

There were many policemen at the station today, as a result of the terrorist incident that happened a few days ago.

Tres casually checked that no one was too close before speaking again: " Nightroad arrived in Cologne two hours ago. He has made contact with the informant here. It is going as predicted. "

" Ugh. Such boring work. The incident in Spain with the syndicate kidnapping was just the first step. Now it's more boring work for me. I need a bold criminal, one that is going to really challenge my brain. It's a total waste! "

Professor knocked some ash out of the pipe that he was smoking.

Only yesterday, he had solved and eliminated a trafficking syndicate in Spain. Finally the incident had been solved, and he had been about to return to Rome, when he was given new orders. He let out a loud sigh. " Well, I'm here now. I guess life is short. Anyway, what is the situation, Father Tres? My incompetent student is still alive? "

" The details of Watteau s well-being will be part of the briefing when everyone is here, " Tres replied calmly as he looked at the train that had just entered the platform with his calculating glass eyes. After confirming that the train departed from Prague via Berlin, he robotically walked toward it. " This mission will involve three people, and it is to ensure the safety of Huge de Watteau and crush Count Four. The members are to work closely. These are orders from Duchess of Milan. "

" Three? So who is the other? " Professor asked. The train suddenly let out a burst of steam from its engine. With a heavy clunking noise, the doors of the second-class carriage opened. Professor looked up to see who would emerge, and his eyebrow immediately shot up when he saw. " I see. He is the third. The duchess is always spot-on. "

The man called out as he walked down the gangway iron to the platform: " William! Long time, no see! You look well. You too, Father Tres. It must have been a year. " He looked exhausted from the journey, but his stoic face had broken into a smile when he saw who had come to meet him.

" Hello, AX member Father Vaclav Havel. "

AFTERWORD

This as Sunao Yoshida. It's been three months since my last work.

This is the fourth volume in the Rage Against the Moons series, a real crisis point in the story. Trinity Blood has run to eight books now. I think each one of them is bad but the series still continues. It's all down to the readers who keep buying the books. Thank you so much. I owe you a lot.

There is a concept of " justifiable. " Originally, it had meant something like " as long as what you were doing would improve things, then it was okay to do it. " But it always depends on what you consider an " improvement" to be. For the losers, it sounds like nothing more than an excuse.

It's the same excuse for when I spend too much at the bookstore. I like to think that books are for work and that they're useful materials. I like to collect materials where I can find them though, and I often make notes of interesting things my friends have said while out drinking. I also have lots of articles, which I've found on the Internet, cluttering my hard-drive. I love keeping newspaper cuttings. Maybe I'm a Gutenberg Man. My possessions are overwhelmingly documents. There are particularly good bookshops in Kyoto. I'm always coming out with my arms full of books.

Anyway, how do these books help me?

Let's look at the bookshelf by my desk...

I have A Journey Through Wales by Gerald of Wales. He accompanied the Archbishop of Canterbury on a tour around Wales to encourage young men to sign up for the crusades during the twelfth century. He wrote down lots of the things he saw. Lots of small details like travel expenses and feelings that he had of the places he stayed. An extremely useful guidebook! However, I'm not planning to slip back in time anytime soon, so I guess it won't be that useful.

Next book is The Taste of Bugs by Satoshi Shinonaga. The book's aim is to introduce all the types of recipes that use bugs and insects in them. It would be useful if there were a nuclear war and I had to survive the fallout.

Flying on a Jumbo Jet is next to that. It explains how to control all sorts of vehicles from Jumbo Jets and luxury liners to submarines. If there is a surprise coup d'etat whilst I'm on holiday, then I would be able to drive to safety. So that could be useful.

I guess none of my books are really useful. I wonder what I was thinking when I bought them? Even more worrying is that I enjoy these pointless books.

" It doesn't matter if it's useful right away. The important thing is that it captures my interest. It will come in handy one day. "

That's what I say to myself every time I go to the store to collect materials. I justify it in that way. But when I come home and see my eight bookcases and the fifty cardboard boxes piled up, I really start to hate myself. I'm so desperate for more space; I fall asleep on a bed covered in magazines. It's really tragic.

If I continue the way I am, then I'm going to die in a book slide. Or perhaps from brain damage when a book falls off my crammed shelves. Or perhaps I'll die of malnutrition when I use my last pennies to buy more books. Only just now when I was cleaning up, a book fell on my head. It really hurt.

Anyway, next volume is going to be set on an island.

If I've not died under a pile of toppled books, I'll see you then!

—Sunao Yoshida.

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