Chapter 28 - Do You Know Vampires?

Chapter 28 - Do You Know Vampires?

"Oscar, Technical Advisor to the Special Forces. That's what your sign will say. Your forge will expand, your network in the market will grow, and naturally, so will your influence…"

"Stop it already!"

Oscar sighed and ruffled his gray hair.

"I said no. Clearly."

"Fine. Decide for yourself. But hey, if you craft weapons for the Special Forces, wouldn't Marcello use them too? Imagine the advertising impact…"

"I get it. Enough already…"

"Alright, I'll stop now."

It seemed like he was almost convinced.

"What about me, Mago?"

Kinjo leaned in, his face uncomfortably close.

"You skipped over me. Didn't Commander Shimenna promise me anything? You must've talked about me."

He had, in fact.

With Kinjo's clairvoyant magic, he'd be particularly useful. But no specific promises had been made.

I teased him.

"Didn't mention much about you."

"What?! Why only me…"

***

Moonlight reflected off her silver hair.

She brushed back the strands that had been bothering her.

"Hmm…"

In one hand, she gripped an ankle.

Dragging a man by the ankle like a sack, she pulled him along. His back scraped against the ground, but he couldn't resist.

"Rise."

Her words weren't directed at the man she was dragging.

With a single command, she reanimated the green monsters slain on the mountainside.

The monsters, broken and mangled, began to stagger to their feet.

An orc, reduced to just a head, blinked its eyes. The silver-haired woman kicked it over.

Marks like brands were etched across its face in several places.

[Imperial Army Training Camp Batch 66]

[Trainee No. 71]

[Mago]

The marks of a military dog tag.

"Mago…"

She addressed the man whose ankle she held.

"Where is he now?"

The man only shook his head.

"If you don't know, who does?"

She crouched, locking eyes with him.

"You're the chief instructor."

The chief instructor shook his head harder.

"No? You're not the chief instructor?"

"I swear, I—"

"Then you're useless."

Her greatsword pierced the chief instructor's heart.

***

"It's a pleasure to meet you. There's much to discuss, but no time to do so."

A member of the Special Forces twisted around from the driver's seat of the carriage to address the rear.

Inside, seated in the passenger compartment, were the rest of us—dragged hastily from the Red family's mansion.

"What's going on? What happened?" Kinjo murmured in a daze.

"Just as I said, the training camp was attacked. By a single individual."

A single individual.

I'd heard that phrase before.

In my past life, before meeting the silver-haired Ghost Queen, the same words were spoken.

The Demon King's army also had one such person, a woman like Marcello Arnis.

"The chief instructor is dead."

The entire group stirred at that announcement.

"There were no other casualties, but several strange things occurred. Since you're the ones most familiar with the training camp, even on leave, we request your cooperation."

"What strange things?" I asked.

"All the corpses disappeared—those of the monsters. We were in the middle of cleaning them up, but they vanished all at once."

The soldier fixed his gaze on me.

"A single silver hair was found inside the chief instructor's mouth."

Could it really be her?

"It was silver. If anything comes to mind, report it later. We'll begin the investigation immediately."

Moments later, another carriage pulled up behind us, quickly catching up.

"Mago!"

"El!"

"I made it quickly using the schematics! Take it!"

She tossed a rectangular case toward us.

I stood and caught it at just the right moment.

"And, Bell! Don't push yourself too hard! Always take care of yourself!"

Her carriage pulled away.

The case was sized perfectly for a single sword.

Using both hands, I opened it.

A red blade gleamed inside.

Its design resembled a cross.

It could almost be mistaken for a thin coffin.

The scabbard was adorned with elaborate engravings. Yet, as per my request, sharp or overly angular details had been excluded.

I held the sword horizontally and attempted to unsheath it.

Clunk. Something jammed.

No matter how hard I tried, the blade wouldn't budge.

The design was intentional.

The hilt and scabbard had been welded together.

The weapon had the weight of a sword, but it couldn't be drawn. Calling it a sword felt almost laughable—it was more of a blunt instrument.

***

The chief instructor's body lay beneath a white cloth.

"May I see it?" I asked.

The Special Forces member who had brought us nodded.

After a brief moment of silence, I bowed my head and pulled back the cloth.

The chief instructor, who had always barked orders with fiery vigor, was now cold and lifeless.

I immediately examined the wound.

A stab wound.

His heart had been pierced.

The deep, wide wound in his chest left no doubt it was caused by a greatsword.

He'd been killed by the silver-haired Ghost Queen's blade.

It must have been instant death unless she'd chosen to prolong his suffering.

Aside from the stab wound, there were no other unusual marks.

It was time to let him rest.

"Thank you for everything, instructor."

I covered the body once more.

"Mago, any thoughts?" the soldier asked.

"I need time to think."

Year 614.

In my past life, the Ghost Queen didn't appear until seven years from now.

But that was only when she made herself known.

The Ghost Queen had always operated in secrecy.

Year 607, First Training Camp.

A peculiar event occurred—beast corpses disappeared overnight. At the time, no one could uncover the truth.

The matter was eventually buried, like the white shroud draped over the head instructor.

If I hadn't encountered the Ghost Queen in my past life, I wouldn't have even caught on.

"But back then, the head instructor didn't die."

Volatility.

During the eight months at the First Training Camp, countless events transpired, many of which altered the course of things—most notably during the second invasion.

All 66 recruits survived.

Perhaps this irked the Ghost Queen.

Unlike in my past life, this time, the head instructor was killed.

In other words, the Ghost Queen had left more traces than before.

We moved to the back mountain.

Evidence of the head instructor being dragged away was visible.

As rumored, the beast corpses stored there had vanished, leaving only footprints and drag marks.

The bodies either walked away as undead or rolled off.

Knowing the Ghost Queen and her necromantic magic, everything became clear in my mind, as if I had witnessed it myself.

But I was the only one.

My peers could only shake their heads.

The existence of the Ghost Queen.

Her identity as the sole necromancer.

And her immense power.

Only I knew.

"I've never seen silver hair in the camp," Kinjo said, stroking his chin.

"I've seen white hair, but that's about it."

He turned to me.

"It's not me."

"I know. I was just curious about what you thought. Besides, that silver hair was reportedly very long. Still, we should focus on the corpses disappearing, not just the hair."

Kinjo began piecing things together.

"Let's call the culprit Silver Hair. It's unlikely they moved all the corpses alone; there's no evidence of that. Oddly, there are many footprints, as if the bodies walked away themselves…"

"That's absurd," Bell interrupted.

"It is. Reviving life is divine territory."

"Then what do you think happened?"

"Silver Hair orchestrated it. I don't know how, but they must've moved the corpses alone and staged the scene to make it look like they walked away."

Amon chimed in.

"Kinjo, there's no reason for them to do that. It wouldn't gain them anything."

"You're right, Amon. If they staged it, the motive isn't clear. If we knew who Silver Hair was, we could speculate…"

"Isn't the entire Moonlight family silver-haired?" Bell casually suggested.

The group began discussing it.

"Right! It could be one of them."

"Why would the Moonlight family be involved? They have no ties to the camp."

"Don't jump to conclusions. There might be something we don't know."

Then, suddenly, Oscar, who had been quiet until now, spoke.

"What if it's just an old man?"

All eyes turned to him.

And so, another round of debate began.

"No way. If it's an old man, wouldn't they have white hair?"

"Does that make Mago an old man too?"

"Gray hair could pass as silver in some cases."

"If we assume it's an old man, we'll never identify the culprit…"

Amid the chaos, I declared confidently.

"Yes, Oscar. That's it."

"Mago?"

No one here knew about the Ghost Queen, necromancers, or undead magic.

With the current lack of evidence, pointing directly at the Ghost Queen was impossible.

Absolutely impossible.

I'd only be labeled insane.

"If it's an old man, it could make sense."

I redirected the group's attention.

The culprit I aimed for was one of the demon lord's officers—a vampire lord I intended to hunt down after completing training.

"Why do you think so?" a member of the special operations team asked, crossing his arms.

"Do you know about vampires?"

The word was a bombshell.

All eyes shifted to me.

"Well, I've heard of them," Oscar replied hesitantly.

"An old man made me think of something. May I share it?"

The group nodded in agreement.

"First, let's go over vampire traits."

I launched my ruse.

Step One:

I held up one finger.

"First, they can transform into bat-like creatures."

I linked the remaining clues to vampires, framing them as culprits.

"If they arrived at the camp in bat form, the corpses disappearing at once becomes plausible."

"Hmm?"

The team member tilted his head, puzzled.

"There wasn't just one of them. While a silver-haired individual may have killed the instructor, a group of vampires flew to the back mountain. Then…"

"On their way out, they reverted to human form and carried the corpses, explaining the footprints and drag marks."

Kinjo picked up where I left off.

"Exactly, Kinjo. Second, vampires cannot move during the day. They dissolve in sunlight. That matches the time of death."

And third:

"They drink blood. That could explain why the corpses were taken—to consume them as food. The instructor was merely in the way."

"An unlucky death?"

"Regrettably, yes."

I paused before continuing.

"If we assume multiple culprits, it follows that many vampires are disguising themselves as humans. They're likely living together in a large, sunless space—a building, perhaps."

"Mago, are you saying they're underground?" Amon asked.

"No. My thoughts differ. The second trait: inability to move during the day. It's not just about sunlight but a location where they remain inactive during the day. Finally, Oscar's suggestion of an old man being involved."

Three clues narrowed our search.

"A large building. An old man's presence. A place inactive during the day."

"Where is that?"

"A tavern fits those criteria best. It's an easy place to blend in."

"A tavern…"

The team member slowly nodded.

It seemed convincing, given how neatly it aligned.

That was inevitable since I'd tailored it to fit.

"Old men don't frequent taverns at night as customers. Instead, the old man must be the owner."

I held up the sword Elle had given me—a blade modeled after a cross.

"I'll investigate."

One more vampire trait: a weakness to crosses.

My ploy gave momentum to my plan to eliminate the demon lord's officers one by one.

Leaving traces was their mistake.

"They practically handed me a chance to strike back."

The Ghost Queen couldn't have anticipated their actions would lead to someone else taking the fall.