Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Side Story

Yufi grappled with feelings she could not fully comprehend. The darkness surrounding that individual was terrifying, yet at the same time, strangely comforting. Comforting? She herself could not decipher the root of such a thought.

“I like you, Uncle Dale.”

“… Miss Yufi.”

The deities from another dimension blinked, and immediately their appendages tore apart the mortals below. Shrieks erupted, followed by bursts of laughter. Prayers to the gods, oaths of fury, and laments of madness filled the atmosphere.

Despite this, in the midst of that chaos, the noises felt distant and fleeting.

Even the flickering gazes of the deities showed complete apathy.

The surroundings remained plunged in an unsettling silence, and in that stillness, only Dale’s proximity made itself felt.

Yufi was unable to process it. She did not realize that Dale was shielding her from the folly of those divinities, preserving her own sanity.

Nervetheless, this action simultaneously awakened sensations in Dale that he never anticipated.

It was not a feigned affection. The protection Dale provided to her consciousness simply served as the trigger.

As they advanced on their journey, Yufi’s attachment to Dale intensified with each passing day.

“This place is not suitable for a declaration, Miss Yufi.”

“… I’m sorry! Uncle Dale, it’s just that…”

“There is no need for you to add anything more.”

Dale uttered this with a subtle gesture of irony, causing Yufi to turn around bewildered, her face burning. It was at that moment that she understood how misplaced her comment had been.

The fractured sky was beginning to unite, closing on its own.

The madness had concluded, and Dale averted his gaze.

The darkness beneath his attire remained as dense and mysterious as usual.

The time had come to unveil the past, buried behind the pile of bodies of the revolutionaries and the ocean of blood.

It was a fortress erected epochs ago by a subordinate of the ancient monarchy. Dale remembered perfectly what it was called.

The Yurith Fortress. In other times controlled by the Lord of the Red Tower.

Even in the present, the members of the Yurith family continued to fight in the shadows against the subversives, although they no longer possessed the splendor of the rulers of the empire of yesteryear.

Dale, bearing the title of Lord of the Black Gold, had faced the Third Empire, causing the Golden Knights to be defeated or to surrender. The members of the Yurith family suffered the same fate.

The Yurith Fortress ended up crumbling after the fall of the Third Empire.

An old vampire stronghold that should have been buried in oblivion.

Despite everything, the lineage of vampires, whom many took for extinct, managed to prevail and maintain their descent. Could they perhaps be linked to the enigmas of the defunct Fourth Empire?

It was an unknown.

No one possessed the strength to halt Dale’s advance. The sky had broken, the deities had consummated their chaotic feast, and the revolutionary hosts had been massacred.

Dale advanced a step, and the subversives fled terrified in the opposite direction. He ignored them completely as he walked the corridors of the old structure.

On the surface of the wall hung a canvas worn by time.

The most prominent figures of the empire, Marquis Yurith alongside his sister, Lady Scarlet.

“…”

Dale spoke while contemplating the painting.

“Do you know who they are?”

“……”

“They were opponents I will never be able to erase from my memory.”

“Could it be that you are…?”

Suddenly, a voice resonated from behind, without having announced its arrival. Yufi turned around startled, while Dale kept his eyes fixed on the painting.

Before them stood an individual with reddish hair. Albert Yurith, successor of the Yurith lineage, had presented himself at the threshold of the fortress.

“You ignored my words of warning, tender vampire.”

Albert expressed this with incredulity, to which Dale replied using a tone devoid of warmth.

“You are not the head of the surviving lineage. Just as you are not the one commanding the insurgents.”

“……”

“Is the leader of the rebellion here, the brand-new Golden Lord? Is the head of your lineage perhaps the Golden Lord who guides these rebels?”

“… That is correct, Lord of the Black Gold.”

Albert lowered his gaze, revealing a slight tremor in his speech. Finally, everything made sense.

“The Lord of the Black Gold…?”

Yufi caught her breath for a moment. She recalled the designation mentioned to her by Marquis Rosenheim, sovereign of the Fourth Empire.

The most relevant sorcerer sovereign in the chronicles of the region.

He who concluded the dispute between gold and shadow, master of both disciplines, exhibited himself before her eyes.

For that reason, it was impossible for her to attempt to oppose him.

Putting an end to the rivalry between gold and shadow, undoing the insurrection as if it were paper, and subduing the self-proclaimed monarch represented no difficulty at all for that individual.

“It lacks relevance. The dispute between gold and shadow has ceased to hold value for me.”

Nevertheless, after a brief instant of secrecy, Dale manifested, leaving behind the countless remains of the insurgents outside the ruined fortress.

“Guide me toward the riches of the ancient monarchy hidden in this bastion.”

Albert Yurith showed hesitation for a moment at Dale’s command. However, his hesitation vanished swiftly.

No one was capable of standing up to this individual.

Albert Yurith escorted Dale into the depths of the bastion, a corridor that descended into the underground.

Shackles and spells blocked the entrance; even in these times where mysticism was declining, the blockage maintained a colossal strength.

However, Dale raised his extremity, and the freezing darkness emanating from it destroyed it without further setback.

Crash!

The links reinforced with magic shattered like glass. Albert’s features grew numb upon witnessing the scene.

Dale stepped into the sector protected by mysticism.

Splash.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, his footwear made contact with a pool of fluid. Looking down, he discovered that it was blood.

“Ahh?!”

Yufi let out an exclamation, and Dale raised his hand demanding silence.

“Past this stretch, the environment becomes extremely hostile. I ask you to remain in this place, Miss Yufi.”

“But even with that…”

“I will not leave you helpless.”

Dale made an ironic gesture and produced a sound with his fingers once more.

Immediately, the darkness came to life, molding into a humanoid appearance. It possessed no organic matter. It was a silhouette, a warrior constituted purely of shadows.

An Abyssal Knight, a highly complex necromancy enchantment even for Dale’s era.

Albert shuddered due to the energy projected by the apparition. Yufi experienced an identical sensation.

“This entity will watch over you, Miss Yufi.”

Dale gave the instruction, and the dark warrior knelt before Yufi, resting his blade on the ground. Just like a combatant rendering homage to a lady.

Yufi showed a subtle smile and nodded her head. Dale resumed his path.

Splash, splash.

Dale advanced through the vital fluid, heading toward the most secure chamber guarded by the structure.

At that precise moment, it happened.

The vital fluid beneath Dale’s footwear began to stir, emulating tidal waves.

Simultaneously, the “Cold of the End” residing inside Dale began to manifest agitation.

The imprint of Shub surrounding his vital organ, an active ring of dark filaments, began to throb forcefully.

“…”

Dale raised his gaze.

In the midst of the darkness, a flash shone with an ineffable brilliance.

It was a shade alien to this plane. When it seemed to be a crystalline mineral, it mutated to jade; upon being perceived as jade, it took on a purplish nuance; and when assumed to be purplish, it returned to the shade of jade.

“The Gate…”

Dale identified the flash.

“I refer to the resentment, and I express the following.”

In that microsecond, a declaration resonated.

“Ice possesses the capacity to devastate the environment with equal certainty as the fiery element.”

A figure emerged from behind the glow.

“I awaited the right moment to cross paths with you again, Black Prince.”

A designation of old, buried by time, was pronounced by the apparition accompanied by a smile. Even Dale was unable to conceal his astonishment at the event.

Albert Yurith prostrated himself immediately.

“… Rei Yurith?”

“You keep me in your memory.”

“In what way do you manage to remain alive?”

“Under what concept do you determine existence?”

interrogated Rei.

“Memory.”

“…”

“Even if said evocation equates to a mirage.”

“A mirage from which one does not awaken is identical to the desolation of happiness.”

Unexpectedly, Lize’s words presented themselves in his thoughts. At the same time, blood-colored symbols began to carve themselves onto his anatomy like cut marks.

“The Book of Blood…”

“Rei Yurith perished under the power of the Black Prince. However, possessing reminiscences that do not differ from the memories of that infant, I represent, in a certain way, a replica of Rei Yurith.”

“Under that premise, what is your true identity?”

“I too have forgotten what I was in the past. The only element defining me in the present is the Book of Blood.”

After uttering that, Dale stood before the figure of Rei Yurith.

“Even though my being constitutes a falsehood from the origin, my progenitor gladly gave his life to bring back my apocryphal copy. That constitutes the primordial memory I possess.”

“You refer to the Bloody Marquis.”

“For your person, and to a greater extent for me, it represents a past so distant that it appears unattainable.”

In the midst of the darkness resided certainty, camouflaged but latent. A certainty that did not differ from deceptions, and among those falsehoods was Ray Eurys, the descendant of the lie.

The brand-new ruler of the golden stage.

There were signs concerning his real identity. The Eurys blood relatives did not represent the entirety of his lineage, and it was even contemplated that Scarlett harbored within her the “demon of evolution.”

Despite everything, the environment showed no variations.

At this point, it lacked value. Certainty or lie, gold or shadow, no aspect of that possessed relevance.

“However, to reach you, you find yourself in a position too elevated,” expressed Ray Eurys, drawing a grimace of bitterness.

“I only seek one element. I lack intentions of taking your life or engaging in a battle.”

“What is it that you are tracking?”

“Does the Book of Blood perhaps contain the outcome of that infant and of the Fourth Empire?”

“Unfortunately, no entity on this plane preserves the tale of that experience.”

Ray Eurys, the ruler of gold and falsehood, shook his head calmly.

“However, it is probable that on the other side of this lies the resolution.”

Upon perceiving such words, Dale turned his face away.

He observed the cosmic shades shimmering between his position and Ray’s, the vacuum manifesting itself beyond.

“The winter of the universe…”

The terrifying energy of the final devastation moved inside Dale, the very gift provided by the entity that awaited him.

Winter.

On a previous occasion, it intended to bury this plane under ice, and Dale had emerged victorious against it.

And now, that identical entity could protect the clarifications Dale urgently required.

For that reason, there was no room for hesitation.

Chapter 11