Fifty: The Art of Banishing

Salvador said, “All this time I’ve been studying swordsmanship at Master Helsin’s house. I’m not the same as before, believe me. I won’t die so easily like a live target.”

I replied, “You’d be better off with a gun. So-called swordsmanship is outdated.”

He said anxiously, “But swordsmanship can bring forth mindblades. That’s completely different.”

I said, “You make it sound easy. Mirelse and I trained for a full twenty years before reaching what we have now, and even so, in most situations a sniper rifle or assault rifle is still more useful.”

Salvador pleaded earnestly, “Brother-in-law, I’ve already... grasped a few tricks. I think I’ll be transformed before long.”

I sneered inwardly. What was this, cheating? The secret technique Mirelse and I had labored so hard to master, and he claimed he had already found his way to the threshold?

I ruffled his hair and said, “There will be a chance. Be patient.”

Salvador said, “But if I’m too slow, will Betty lose patience? Lately I feel she’s grown close to other men, and she’s becoming more and more particular about how she dresses...”

I said, “Never mock a young man’s poverty. If she turns to someone else, then when you make your fortune, bankrupt her husband and marry her daughter. Take both the older and the younger, all at once. I’ll definitely help you with that.”

My teasing made Salvador laugh. Did the boy think I was joking? I was already thinking through every possible plan to avenge him.

Just then, Lamia came over and called, “Hey, Longinus, Michael’s sent someone to find you.”

I asked, “At this hour of night?”

Lamia said, “For them, midnight is noon.”

The servant led me to the fifteenth level, the home of Helsin and Yasui. Even at this hour, the bustle of the market on this level had not yet faded. Nearly every house had been remodeled into shared lodgings, bringing chaos as well as life. The people who lived in the depths of the Black Coffin toiled through the night in sweat and filth, hoping one day to escape that cesspit and reach the middle levels. Yet half of them could only just remain in the Black Coffin without being driven out, and nearly half of the rest had to become black citizens, selling their lives to gangs or paying exorbitant fees.

When I stepped into Helsin’s spacious training hall, Yasui smiled and said, “Welcome, Lieutenant Colonel Longinus. I’m sorry to disturb you so late, but we must hold the exorcism ritual at dawn.”

Michael sprang up at once, first shaking my hand, then embracing me. He was so enthusiastic I half expected him to try to drink my blood, but he was only overexcited, unable to hide his delight like a naive youth taken to a pleasure house for the first time and handed a hostess girl.

Besides Master Helsin, Bella and Legan were also present. Helsin frowned, clearly still worried about his wife’s health.

Three statues had been placed at the center of a six-pointed magic circle. Candles burned at each point, and a small bowl of blood rested at the center of each angle.

Yasui walked to the circle, bit her lip, and kissed each statue. In an instant, she seemed forty years younger, transformed into a girl of surpassing beauty, silver light floating around her body.

Michael exclaimed, “Magnifique!”

Little flames leapt from the fire, and threads of blood rose from the bowls. Yasui danced a wild and graceful dance, and under the guidance of her fingers the flames ignited the blood threads, six-pointed stars appearing one after another in the air.

She cried out, “Be careful, they’re coming! Protect me!”

Helsin drew his sword. Yasui said, “No, you can’t. You are my kin. That will only worsen matters and interrupt the ritual.”

Helsin roared, “This law is utterly absurd!”

Bella turned pale and said, “I can’t bear this atmosphere!” and hurried out of the hall.

Legan said, “Michael, Fishbone, get ready. The three of us, one enemy apiece. We must not let a single hair on Yasui’s head be harmed.”

Michael laughed. “You’re even more enthusiastic than I am. What’s gotten into you?”

Thinking of the three legendary goddesses of murder we were about to face, I shivered deep inside. After all, I was no fearsome demon like Legan or Michael.

The blood kin believed that the saints and gods once worshiped by ancient peoples might all have been disguises of the blood kin, and these three goddesses were undoubtedly aberrations that manipulated human hearts and delighted in bloodshed and killing. Their followers either died or became blood-drinking monsters.

They fit the traits of the blood kin. Through dark sorcery, they had remained preserved within the statues, perhaps even having their flesh and blood remade into stone. That was strikingly similar to the sun-tainted ones.

The blood kin believed Cain to be their progenitor, but in truth the blood kin of different regions all held different views on their origins.

Perhaps we were facing three ancestral blood kin.

I invoked Herd, and a layer of shadow covered Yasui. Michael made a gesture, and another layer of crimson armor settled over the shadow. Yasui nodded and continued concentrating, while Helsin shouted, “Thank you!”

Then, all at once, they descended.

Everything in the hall turned blood-red. The silence was terrifying, broken only by the sound of a vast heart beating. I tried to locate that heart, but saw no sign of it.

Three slight women stood in three directions, scarcely clad. Each of them wore an expression of unbearable pain and rage, and as they screamed, they spoke in an incomprehensible language.

I shouted, “Don’t take your anger out on me. I was dragged here after brushing my teeth and taking a shower! My wife is still waiting for me in bed!”

Michael and Legan glared at me as though I had said something wrong.

They rushed toward Yasui. Legan took wolf form, and Michael became a knight in red armor, each blocking one of them. I wrapped myself in Iron Lotus and swung a thunder blade at the succubus rushing me. She turned into a blurred streak of blood, slipped behind me, and I quickly turned, only for her to appear before me again and kick me flying.

Perhaps years of slumber had weakened her, but she was still nearly a match for Legan.

Iron Lotus and Willow Blossom saved my life. I drew the Fishbone Spear, blades in both hands, but she again charged with supernatural speed. This time she came above me, her claws stabbing for my skull. My Fishbone Spear rose on its own to block the blow, and in my delight I exerted all my strength to slash out Stone Samphire with my right hand. The mindblade struck her, but only left a shallow wound.

I cried out in horror. Her claws stabbed at me like she meant to gut me, and I sank at once into shadow. She paused for a moment, then stabbed wildly into the darkness, slicing splinters from the floorboards and stone slabs until the iron plate beneath was exposed. But I circled behind her, and the Fishbone Spear pierced her back. She screamed in pain, though the wound was no more than a pinprick.

Strange. This Fishbone Spear once wounded Abel. Could it be that it only works specially on Abel?

Her claws shot out like bullets. I barely escaped into shadow like a burrowing mole, and for the moment she had no answer for me. If she attacked Yasui now, I could not stop her, but in her fury she had fixed only on me. All I had to do was buy time, keep enraging her, and wait for the ritual to finish.

I moved in for another ambush, and then suddenly saw her body melt into a pool of blood. My strike missed, and I knew at once that something was wrong. As expected, the blood pool surged up like a wave and drenched me. My combat suit was burned through, my skin split open, and agony coursed through my entire body. I used Willow Blossom, gathering mindblade power into my feet and leaping forward into shadow.

I had once been drenched in acid rain, but this blood was even more corrosive. I wiped at my cheek and found my skin turned into a sticky liquid. The pain was as though my nerves were being pinched by pliers without end. With no other choice, I spread mindblade power throughout my body, and a layer of black shadow formed a thin membrane from within. Unexpectedly, it worked; it blocked the acid and eased my injuries, while at the same time the blood of Vasiliisa began healing me.

If I used the Hand of Glory, could I turn her into solid gold? But she was far too fast. I had no time to cast, and I could not keep hiding forever. If she noticed Yasui, everything would be for nothing.

I took out the Blood of the Serpent and drank it down. The next time her blood struck me, my blood would mix with hers. Then let us see which of us could poison the other first.

I thrust myself out, and Stone Samphire slashed toward her. As expected, she became a torrent of blood, dodging the mindblade in an instant, then sweeping over me half a second later. I blocked with Iron Lotus, but even Iron Lotus was melted through in moments. I thought, The chance is only for an instant! Her blood droplets pierced my shield and fell on my face. I rolled repeatedly, and my blood mixed into hers.

She let out a dreadful shriek. Blood gathered into a human shape, her body swaying and staggering from side to side as my lethal poison raged within her. Even this half-living, half-dead succubus was tormented beyond endurance. I gritted my teeth through the pain and thrust with Thunder Blade. The scorching current finally dealt her a heavy blow. She staggered backward in agony, and I struck again and again. Smoke began to rise from her body.

I kept up the pursuit, but did not expect her to change once more. She swelled, becoming a lean and towering red demon, white spines jutting from her body. I was horrified and dodged swiftly, but her claws thrust toward me like lightning. I tried to defend myself with Shadow Iron Lotus, yet before such monstrous force, it was as though made of paper.

A layer of crimson armor blocked the blow for me. A black wolf knocked her back again. Yasui’s calm and serene incantation filled the room, and the succubus gave a desperate scream as she began to fall apart—not melting back into blood, but truly ceasing to exist. Not only her, but the other two succubi as well.

Then I realized I was no longer in the hall.

I was in a jungle, atop a pyramid some twenty meters high, built from countless steps. At the pyramid’s summit stood an altar. It was a moonlit night, and the three sisters of Ix stood facing the countless Maya people below, who were kneeling in worship.

At the center of the altar lay a dead maiden, yet the three sisters still watched it with worried eyes.

And now I could understand their language.

One sister said, “She is not the goddess Ix whom we worship. She is monstrously evil. She did not guide those girls’ souls to paradise; she devoured them.”

Another said, “What is she? Where is she?”

The third said, “She is right here upon this altar. She has never been asleep. She can hear us speaking. She is insatiable, and one day she will destroy our kingdom.”

I studied the sisters’ faces. Their eyes shone with uncanny brightness in the night, and they bore the sharp canines unique to the blood kin. They truly were ancient blood kin.

The second sister said, “Shatter the altar, and her power will weaken.”

The third said, “If the altar is shattered, she will flee. But what if she finds the other sacred implements again?”

The first sister said, “For our people, for the true believers of Ix, we must seal her away, even if it costs us our flesh, our lives, our souls.”