Глава 13

Their plan—

Has failed? So easily?

I turn around.

The front of the deck has been completely engulfed in red fog, with only the flashing of sword and vampiric Arts to penetrate it.

Why do I feel so uneasy?

I—

Delphine! Look out!

A pair of eyes peer at me, in the infinite raindrops, in the reflection of blood on the deck.

The Vampire's hand brushes my neck. Why? Is he not fighting Mother?

Vina tries to push me away, but it's too late.

My sword. I still have my sword.

I am her daughter.

She is counting on me.

The blood-woven crimson witchcraft vanishes into thin air.

*Pant*... *pant*...

Are you alright?

I'm fine... it's all in my head...

Your troops are holding back the enemy down below, so we've come up to help.

The bad news is that we found traces of the Damazti down there.

We know. The Sanguinarch and Damazti are attacking together.

No, wait...

That attack was not a Damazti feint. It was true blue vampiric witchcraft.

If the King of the Sarkaz Court had intended to kill me, there is no reason I should still be alive.

It was not my own strength that allowed me to resist.

He had other plans. There's no doubt about that.

Once again, I look towards the Swordguards. Their swords are still flashing. I can faintly see their silhouettes converging—

Something's not right.

They are falling, one by one.

They're backing up?

This is not right!

Where is Mother?

Delphine? Where are you going?

Agh, dreadful!

(In Sarkaz) The scent of blood has changed. The Confessarius has succeeded, as has the Sanguinarch.

(In Sarkaz) Pull back.

(In Sarkaz) Those unable to do so, drive your daggers into your hearts on my command.

You—

Impossible.

Even if the fight against the fake Vampire had taken its toll, Mother and her Swordguards could not have fallen so easily.

I know the legends of Windermere's sword which no wall could stop, the blade of light that struck down the spires, one of Victoria's two sharpest swords.

I grew up listening to them.

Why? How?

I charge into the fog of blood, hearing only my accelerating heartbeat.

Finally, I spy a figure.

Ugh...

You have lost all sensation in your arms. Your guards are routed.

How do you feel now?

Argh... ugh...

Sarkaz...

He caught you.

An instant of weakness, of disorder... why? We do not understand.

We find it... regrettable.

She's finished. Let this great warrior savor the fading of life.

Are you leaving?

I have no interest in the inconsequential deaths that remain.

One glance from that devil is enough to freeze my blood.

But he does not kill me.

This blood is a penny a gallon.

What are you after? We are unsure.

The age of shame is coming to an end.

Are you hurt?

...It does not matter.

He disappears into the blood.

Y... You...

Oh, there you are.

The one who saw through us.

He said we were losing our touch. How convincing was the last one?

Is this good enough?

Don't—you dare—wear her—face—

He smiles at me with Mother's face.

...We must try.

Then, with an identical sword—Mother's sword—

He impales his own chest.

Sarkaz!

In my fury I try to charge, but my body refuses to move.

(In Sarkaz) We'll do better next time.

He whispers in my ear, wearing my own face.

Mother's sword is still in his chest.

In 'my' chest.

He falls, then familiar blood witchcraft covers him, consuming him.

After the blood boils and evaporates, it is as though nothing had ever happened.

All I can do is pick up Mother's sword.

I...

I catch sight of Mother.

The sound of fighting has stopped. The wind has calmed. The ship has stopped.

I see blue hair on the ground. Mother is bleeding.

Delphine...

I can't see very well...

Have they retreated?

Mo...ther...

They're gone...

Mother... I, I'll call for the doctors—

You'll be fine. You're the Duke of Windermere. You're my mother.

Wait here, I'll—

I couldn't beat him... I can't believe it...

Don't go, Delphine... don't go...

Let me... look at you...

Mother's body grows cold in my arms.

I dare not let go.

The sound of Mother's heartbeat fades further and further away.