Chapter Forty-Five: Escape from the Apocalypse

My heart burned with anxiety; I longed to seize the face on the monitor and force him to finish his words. Longinus began to recite an incantation clearly, and the chant seemed to awaken the fishbones within me—countless spines lodged in my wrists, my bones, my stomach, and my heart, stabbing mercilessly.

A pained groan escaped me, as if I were a long-suffering invalid. My fingers seemed to melt, black blood dripping from them to the floor, forming a shadowy pool.

Longinus said, “My former footprints drew you to me, made you follow me unconsciously. If you were lucky enough, you should have found the fish tank I left behind.”

In agony, I asked, “What… is the fish tank?”

Longinus replied, “There was once an ancestor among the Bloodline, named Larsen the Drought. I—you—once fought a decisive battle with him. I killed him and, by chance, drank his blood. That blood carried the deadly venom of shadow, and I was forced to undergo treatment to expel the poison from my body.”

Suddenly, I realized he could understand my speech; his previous ignorance had only been an act.

Longinus continued, “Larsen the Drought is the progenitor of the Shadow Bloodline, undoubtedly evil and cruel. But his power can restrain the Sun King. Now, I have awakened the shadow blood within you. You can now move freely within shadows.”

I opened my eyes and saw the world revealed in an entirely different form. Everything was overlain with a double shadow—not merely their silhouettes, but their reflections in another world.

Now I could see the entrances to the other dimension.

I fumbled and found a blurry door just as the entire building began to tremble. Walls crumbled, cabinets toppled, and on the screen, Longinus smiled. “Farewell, future me.”

I stepped through the door and instantly plunged into the tide of shadow. Yet I could swim in it, fast as a fish through water. Soon I found another door and, opening it, found Lamia and the others.

They were startled to see me. Lamia asked, “Longinus, you disappeared again!”

Soleis demanded, “What’s with the earthquake?”

Le Gang asked, “Where is the statue of the Goddess?”

I looked up, pointed at the ceiling, and shouted, “We must escape—now!”

The ceiling cracked open—human hands, human heads, human teeth, human hair, like newborn infants, countless infants seeped from the blood above. And with their appearance came an overwhelming stench, as blood poured down.

I summoned my herding power and activated my shadow with a thought-blade; a black barrier spread above them, the blood twisting away as if sentient, while the Sun acolytes awakening on the rooftop screamed in regret.

They cried, “Why do you reject us? Why not worship the new god? The Sun has opened the radiant gates for us all to ascend…”

Le Gang’s claws grew enormous. With a single sweep, the bodies at the ceiling were torn to pieces, but a second later, they reformed, resuming their maddening laughter and cries.

Le Gang shouted, “We’re leaving!”

With thunderous crashes, the walls split and Sun acolytes blocked our path. We charged forward, the black barrier crushing them into pulp—they did not rise again.

Lamia said, “That works on them!”

I replied, “It’s the power of shadow blood.”

Now, the floor had become a slaughterhouse, a hell of torture. In every corner, resurrected ancients emerged—from the walls, the floor, the ceiling, from pools and columns, even from behind curtain folds—bloody heads and hands ceaselessly reaching out.

I had thought Tony would not succeed so quickly, but I was wrong. Perhaps the building’s constant sunlight kept the Sun acolytes lightly asleep—he only needed to find a way to wake them, and he had done it.

I drank the serpent’s blood, then slashed my wrist, sprinkling blood on each of their heads. It should have been lethal, especially for Lamia, but now I knew it would not harm them. My blood turned to shadow, shielding them from sunlight and the Sun King’s grasp.

Lamia cried, “You’re losing too much blood! You’ll die!”

I said, “I won’t. Run!”

Le Gang charged toward the window. “I’ll fly us down!”

Waste Bell protested, “Flying demons will attack us!”

Le Gang replied, “Better than these monsters…”

Before he could finish, a massive face appeared outside the window, blocking all view. It was composed of countless people, forming Tony’s features.

Tony shouted, “Witness this great miracle! The king becomes the multitude, the multitude becomes the king!”

He opened his mouth, and a tongue made of hundreds of corpses smashed through the wall toward us. The moment it touched my shadow, it disintegrated, and Tony screamed in pain—a scream echoed by tens of thousands.

I saw the shadow fading and quickly summoned my thought-blade again, my heartbeat racing to the point of shattering. I yelled, “Below the twentieth floor—they seem unable to reach lower!”

We rushed downward, Sun acolytes appearing in droves. Some feared me—others did not, throwing themselves at the barrier with fanatical cries, weakening it with each collision. Le Gang roared, his claws shredding the enemies in our way.

In a flash, the entire stairwell turned blood-red, forming a massive hand that seized us all. Instantly, the shadow corroded a hole through the palm, and we fell downward. Soleis’s hair lengthened, Waste Bell’s arms stretched like ropes, together slowing our fall.

The barrier shattered. Black blood trickled from my lips, and my eyeballs felt ready to burst from the pressure—vision gone, only darkness remained. Lamia held me, voice trembling. “Rest. We’ll fight our way out!”

I said, “Never… let blood touch your skin. Not a drop…”

A mass of blood fell from above, engulfing Waste Bell. Terrified, I leaped in and pulled him out. He was soaked, but not dissolved; he spat out foul blood and shouted, “Thank you!”

It seemed the undead could resist the Sun King’s assimilation—perhaps Soleis and Le Gang could as well. The only real danger was to Lamia and me.

Tony’s voice—multitudes in unison—echoed, “Ah, indigestible ones. But the Sun King is omnipotent. Once you join with him, you’ll understand, you’ll accept. The process may take a year, but we are patient. We will help you. Be with us, accept our love.”

Lamia gave a bitter laugh. “That’s the most disgusting confession I’ve ever heard.”

Le Gang grabbed us and continued downward. Suddenly, new vigor filled me. Though I’d lost too much blood, I was once again energetic.

This was Vasilisa’s ancient gift to me—the blood of that primeval lineage endlessly regenerating in my veins.

Once again, I scattered shadow blood, enveloping everyone. Lamia exclaimed with joy, “You’re better?”

I replied, “My dear, with you holding me, how could I not recover quickly?”

She kissed me lightly on the lips, and I was nearly whole again.

We had reached about the fifteenth floor when demons charged toward us. I soon realized they meant us no harm—they were fleeing for their lives. The Sun King’s blood fell like torrential rain, breaking into even the demons’ otherworldly spaces. I saw a red demon swept up, falling, its skin rotting away. It stood a second, a third time, but finally was consumed.

Le Gang smashed through the floor with his fists, and we dropped down. He punched again, making us fall through floor after floor. Suddenly, a blood-red maw opened below—waiting to swallow us whole. Waste Bell flung out his long arm, caught a pipe, and swung us to a corridor, evading the trap.

In the corridor stood a man who made my soul leave my body and my mind go blank.

It was Orchide! How could he be here?

Orchide smiled, “My child, all Sun Kings in the world are one. When Sun Kings awaken across the globe, we can appear anywhere. We are all the Sun King, and the Sun King is us. The black fish you released failed to kill me—what a pity, isn’t it? I don’t blame you. I still long for our reunion.”

Clenching my teeth, I struck with my thought-blade. Orchide blocked it with an iron lotus. He was at his peak—his skills surpassed even Miersay. He praised me, “Where did you learn the skills of Club Moss and Shepherd? Have you met Master Helsing?”

Le Gang could have helped, but now that dawn had come, he was drowsy and sluggish. I fought Orchide, but even with Waste Bell and Soleis aiding me, we could not prevail. Suddenly, Lamia fired repeatedly, the divine bullets blowing apart Orchide’s head. He wailed, “She reminds me of Dalia. Where is Dalia?” I unleashed the shadow, and Orchide fled in panic.

Lamia hoisted Le Gang. We were only on the tenth floor—just ten floors left, some fifty meters, yet it seemed an impossible distance.

Lamia suddenly remembered, “Back on the fortieth floor, you passed through the wall and vanished. Can you do it again?”

A flash of inspiration came to me. “Maybe! Everyone, come close!” I slashed open both wrists, blood spraying and drenching everyone. My blood, like living jellyfish, spread and extended, enveloping all of them. The effort nearly made me faint. Clinging together, I led them through a nearby shadow door.

We seemed to fall into a narrow river—I realized it was the building’s shadow, a mundane shadow, but through it, we entered a fragment of another dimension.

After a long drift, with a splash, we landed in a basement. There I saw a truck, about two and a half meters tall and over six meters long, its shape and color much like Yune’s—this must be the small Yune Faga mentioned.

Lamia shouted, “Do you remember how to start Yune?”

I said, “It can’t be as complicated as Yune!”

We pressed buttons at random. Power returned to the level. I shouted, “Faga! Faga!”

Our little angel replied, “I hear you. I’m opening the gate and truck door now.”

The speed at which the gate rose was maddeningly slow. I leapt into the driver’s seat, Lamia covering Le Gang with a cloth. I tried to start the engine, and with a roar, the truck sped out.

Lamia shouted, “Can you drive?”

I answered, “I’m an old hand—of course I can!”

Lamia looked doubtful. “Really?”

But in truth, I’d never driven in my life. We hit a large stone in the road, the truck jolting violently, nearly overturning. Fortunately, I quickly got the hang of it.

We glanced back at the Pan Am Pyramid—those bodies of the Sun Kings, like bloody mildew, covered the building. Their singing drowned out the roar of the truck, filling our ears.

Those people at the base of the pyramid—they would undoubtedly become part of the Sun King.

If we hadn’t come, what would their fate have been?

I could only force myself not to think about it.