Throng of Heretics by Hideyuki Kikuchi

Author:Hideyuki Kikuchi [Kikuchi, Hideyuki]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Dark Horse Comics
Published: 2016-10-04T04:00:00+00:00

“What’s he coming for?” asked Gorshin.

“It’s obvious,” Benelli said, a single bead of sweat rolling down his cheek. “To drink our blood.”

The eyes of all three began to burn crimson. A Noble seeking the blood of Nobles. The notion was so abnormal, so perverse, it stimulated them on a subconscious level.

Braylow looked up. His eyes became riveted to the door.

The other two trembled. They, too, understood. The enemy was right outside—and they knew how terrible he was.

With a click the golden doorknob turned. Braylow reached for his back with both hands. Benelli drew his great scythe. And then, beyond the smoothly opening door, they saw a figure who could only be described as a giant—and at that very moment the Iron Castle engaged its emergency brakes to the accompaniment of an ear-shattering squeal of iron on iron, and the three Noblemen were sent flying.

However, even after the group had boarded again, the Iron Castle didn’t move an inch, so Gorshin and Benelli headed off in search of the control room. They were “in search of it” because they had no more than a vague notion that it would probably be somewhere toward the front. But nowhere in the Castle were any sort of maps or layouts posted.

“I didn’t think this could be derailed, much less take a plunge like this. The Greater Nobility’s technology wasn’t so great after all.”

But Gorshin countered Benelli’s complaint, saying, “That’s a bit rash, Benelli. I’ve heard that ordinarily, the Iron Castle ran through an enormous magnetic tube. Undoubtedly the tube has been damaged in places over the ages. To wit, when it allowed us to board, it was already running out of the ordinary.”

“But since it did run, there’s no reason to believe another fall would put it out of operation. And then there’s the matter of the presence we sensed.”

“And that is why two of us are going—surely he must be the same Greater Noble who crafted the Iron Castle.”

Benelli nodded. “There can be no doubt. But certainly a vehicle of this size would be well stocked with human blood. Why come after us?”

“Why indeed?” Gorshin said, head cocked to one side. “We modern Noblemen have no way of knowing what the Greater Nobles of long ago were thinking. Perhaps not even the Sacred Ancestor could—”

Even before Benelli could give him a look that would tell him to stop, Gorshin held his own tongue.

Regardless of the situation, no matter what reason one might have, it was strictly prohibited for any Noble to slight or slander the Sacred Ancestor in any fashion. Even ten centuries after his disappearance. The Sacred Ancestor reigned over the world’s night even now.

Coughing once, Gorshin continued, “Why did the Sacred Ancestor propose living in harmony with the lowly humans? Though it was a splendid idea he had.”

He meant that. However, Gorshin also intended to make amends for his initial slight, because if one wasn’t mindful of that, misfortune would befall them—this was a notion that had gone beyond mere superstition to become a phenomenon in which many among the Nobility believed.

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