Chapter 9

Night and Dawn (1)

    Today's lessons ended amid the laughter and camaraderie of those in the department who had exerted themselves in skirmishes with their peers. Despite a considerable number of fatalities, the situation wasn't utterly dire. What had a more significant impact than the defeats were the losses suffered by prominent figures or the descendants of powerful individuals.

    For instance, the Valpurgis family.

    This mafia vampire clan had always lived by the principle that they might lose competitions but never lose face.

    That night, an unexpected victim emerged, even though they were the instigators.

    Bang! Bang! Bang!

    Gunshots echoed continuously in the night, prompting many first-year students to peek out their windows. In contrast, the seniors, already familiar with such occurrences, found earplugs and went back to sleep. Some even slept soundly, as if the gunfire was no more disturbing than the chirping of birds at night.

    The unfortunate prisoner who unwittingly caused trouble was now desperately dodging bullets, pursued by figures in black. Due to the new moon night, it was impossible to discern even the gender of his pursuers. Though the young man could estimate that there couldn't be more than three of them.

    Esther had gone out for a night walk, a habit he couldn't indulge in at home, only to accidentally encounter these individuals.

    Just ten meters from his room, amidst the dark night, a barrage of bullets suddenly erupted. Esther who could sense the killing intent in that split second was barely unable to dodge before fleeing for his life. Having already had a round with armed opponents during the day, he knew all too well the difficulties of facing a group at night.

    "Are these guys serious?" he muttered to himself, darting around the university buildings, his feet carrying him through narrow gaps, over wooden fences, and up the decorative fountains. Yet, the pursuers didn't ease their efforts. This made Esther confused. And to worse...

    A moment later, the assailants unfolded bat wings and pursued him through the air.

    ‘Vampires, Grace’s men?' Esther thought.

    The tall figure in pajamas of a bat pattern of an American football team’s mascot skillfully evaded his hunters. Although only slightly faster than usual, this slight increase allowed him to misjudge the vampires' echolocation-based targeting. Their gunmanship was precise, but they couldn't anticipate Esther's erratic movements.

    This is too annoying!

    My precious life in this university is being ruined by you lot, do you know that?!

    "I'll have you lined up and butchered soon enough," Esther growled in frustration. Though it seemed dangerous, the anger building within him pushed fear aside. He believed in not harming others unless absolutely necessary...to run until he couldn't.

    But if cornered, that was different.

    “Die!!!” The invaders roared in unison.

    Finally, after an extended chase, Esther’s patience snapped. He stopped abruptly, turning to face the three vampires as they landed. They were dressed in black and masked, but that was irrelevant to their prey who had decided to confront them.

    "Wanna die so bad?" he sighed. "I wouldn't hesitate if you weren't a woman. Get yourself ready for a one-way trip to hell."

    As his calm voice faded, his anger exploded, unleashing a murderous killing aura. The attackers, sensing trouble, opened fire with their automatic firearms and handguns. Yet, their efforts were futile against the cornered man.

    A dark cross materialized without a command. Its black aura acted like an additional protective layer. None of the bullets reached Esther behind the giant cross. Not just defensive, he summoned a large book, hurling it at his attackers. Instantly, one assailant was set aflame and fell, writhing on the ground. Esther then used chains to drag him closer.

    "So you enjoy outnumbering someone with no retaliation?" His discounted slippers pummeled the downed member of the group. While not severely damaging, it was more torturous than expected.

    Though one would assume Esther could easily eliminate his foes, the remaining two vampires appeared indifferent to their companion's plight, merely watching the beatdown. Esther, frustrated, glanced between the unconscious form at his feet and the two still observing him.

    "Acting like this means you're confident in the power of your species... Fine," the young prisoner sneered with a malevolent grin. "Erebus Cross, Inferno Chains!"

    The body lying on the ground jerked violently before scrambling to escape the thick, thorny vines lunging to entwine him. The burns across his body had vanished, now replaced by fresh wounds from the torturous instruments that drilled into his flesh before dragging him up to be strung upon the cross, immobilizing him completely.

    Seeing their situation turn dire, the remaining two hastily raised their standard weapons and fired rapidly at the looming threat. Although Esther was wearing a shirt, it didn't offer the same bullet protection as his left arm, and the rest of his body was vulnerable to attack as usual. However, they made another critical miscalculation.

    A target that was aware of its position was no longer a target. Dodging bullets, Esther called forth the Inferno Chain to bind the two adversaries, rendering them immobile before they collapsed, struggling on the ground. Esther advanced to finish the game, but he was stopped before he could...

    "Don't kill," a small voice echoed in his mind.

    The problem wasn't the voice... but the words. Don't kill...

    "Why not?" The young man was baffled. After all this, still not allowed to kill? In War, death isn't permanent.

    "Remember, my name implies I'm a tool of subjugation. The purpose isn't for killing," the young girl's words made the would-be attacker pause, and the enemy did likewise... though it was just a voice. But what Tartarus said next had an immediate effect.

    "So... don't kill. Torture them. Let them know what it means to dare confront my master."

    Silence enveloped everything as she finished speaking, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

    She spoke so directly from his arm!

    Run!!

    That was the first and last thought of the nocturnal assailants.

    "Foolish," not just speaking through the hand anymore, a small girl in a black kimono appeared beside him. Her right hand now had thick chains wrapping around it once more before binding the opponent in another layer. With composed steps, she approached the victims lying on the ground. Her flowing robe and long black hair swayed with the wind, like the curtains of a torturous night about to unfold.

    Small yet determined steps.

    A smile angelic in appearance, but her intentions as grim as death itself.

    A single gray eye on her face watched the prey unblinkingly.

    As stated, to her, a simple kill was no fun at all.

    Splat!!!~

    The first hit...

    Splat!!!~

    Followed by the second.

    Splat!!!~ Splat!!!~ Splat!!!~

    Clear and strong sounds indicated a significant force asserted within those slaps. Esther Devald's beautiful weapon did something even her owner hadn't anticipated. She straddled the opponent before yanking their collar up for a better angle and then unleashed a barrage of slaps across their face, turning it left and right under the force of her blows.

    'She's slapping him barehanded, and her hand is heavy.'

    By the time Esther regained his senses, the villains lay motionless on the ground, their masks doing nothing to protect against the relentless assault due to not being shielded by any magic. The blood flowing from the corners of their mouths, even while being bound, didn't stop Tartarus... until she began to frisk them a few minutes later.

    Both the master and the victims agreed it was impossible to resist the young lady before them.

    Three guns were swiftly confiscated, and the prisoner's weapon continued its search for consumables on the opposite side unstoppably, prompting the young man to hastily drag her away from the unfortunate victims before the lovely Chain turned from a weapon into a full-blown thief.

    Before realizing, he did not fight any of them.

    ‘Is this good or not?’

    "Sigh... Still not satisfied." The young girl's face showed a hint of annoyance after managing to secure something more to eat. Her tiny feet stomped the ground irritably, so much so that the floor cracked visibly under her feet.

    'I'm more annoyed than you, seriously.'

    Esther thought to himself, not voicing it out loud, but Tartarus instantly turned around and flashed an eerily pleasant smile before circling around him.

    The prisoner of the cursed building felt utterly convinced that she could read his mind and even speak directly into his brain.

    'Nutcase.'

    Tartarus's pretty face puffed up, clearly showing she was miffed.

    "What now?"

    "Nothing!!!" she retorted sharply.

    The young woman walked over to the person in black, bound to the cross. In her hand appeared a green whip, materializing out of nowhere. For Tartarus, any being other than her master was merely a tool for venting... though, in fact, her master was also one of her emotional outlets.

    The sound of the whip cutting through the air was relentless. The most unfortunate victim of the day got to taste the whip first. An immobile target was perfect for the young girl. Her small frame waved the lengthy whip as if performing a dance with her bare hands, except her target was gradually turning into "pieces."

    "Keep screaming, scream! Aren't vampires supposed to heal quickly? Why don’t you heal faster and come at me then?" Her voice interspersed with the whip's cracks highlighted her vivid cruelty.

    Flesh tore apart, blood scattered.

    At this moment, Esther's previous image of the adorable little girl was completely shattered, replaced by the harsh reality before him. He began to accept his weapon's true nature unconsciously. What he thought while witnessing the scene was not fear of what he discovered but a tiny sense of pride that emerged from his heart...

    He once had thought her to be merely sadistic.

    But as things turned out, that was an understatement.

    'She's a downright sadist.'

    Yet, if not provoked, she would not initiate. Her actions proved as much. Tartarus' unprovoked attacks seemed only directed at him, not others around him... who did not harm him.

    This was something not to be provoked lightly.

    Esther knew he now possessed the best weapon in his hands; he just needed to become as good as the weapon itself.

    Blood red seeped, covering the streets. The two remaining vampires watched the unreasonable torment with genuine terror. Despite their extensive training and experience with torture, nothing had prepared them for this level of pain. One vomited what little they had eaten while still on the ground. Undoubtedly, the person enjoying their misery cared little for any onlookers.

    Their friend was about to be tortured to death, and they were powerless to help.

    Pride mixed with rage and despair.

    The image of the girl flailing the whip, not even bothering to look at their faces, asking no questions about their reasons for the assassination, made them instinctively know that this person didn't aim to take lives carelessly or seek any information. What they directly felt was the malicious intent emanating from the single grey eye reflecting behind the glasses.

    Whether out of fear or any other reason, the two vampires quickly dismissed any thought of escape from their minds. What came instead was a desperate fight-or-flight response, a struggle to the death despite still being bound.

    As Tartarus's whip dance concluded, only the cross stood with unrecognizable flesh and bones hanging from it. Perhaps their souls had returned to their castle before the final blow. Esther grimaced before telling her to back off.

    But just when she let her guard down...

    Whoosh!!!

    A rapid object sliced through the air. The two vampires, realizing they were cornered, used their legs to launch a surprise attack on Tartarus in a fleeting moment. Despite their upper bodies being immobilized, the attackers didn't diminish their hostility. Esther, finding no opening to intervene due to the chaotic assault, watched as the unexpected happened.

    The lower halves of both attackers began to emit a blood-colored aura, extending from their shoes up to their waists as a magic circle appeared around them. Their assaults sped up, forcing the other side to merely defend.

    'Non-verbal spell casting,' thought the young man, unable to take action. 'These guys are actually better than I expected.'

    Despite his wish to avoid confrontation, the War University had either nurtured or rather dragged something out from within Esther's heart once again.

    A thirst for battle.

    Throughout the orientation period, Esther Dewald had started to believe that the skill did not lie within himself but within his weapon. He wanted to rid himself of the irritation that had surfaced, even though many might not care, he felt it the most.

    'One using a weapon should let the weapon do the fighting.'

    'If my parents knew... They would have died of embarrassment.'

    As he watched the unfolding scene, various thoughts dissolved into the wind. His consciousness began to command, emotions surged, and the blood spilled by both himself and his enemies perfectly triggered instincts. Old memories that surfaced in his brain once again seeped into Esther's consciousness.

    "Starting to go berserk, huh?" Tartarus murmured while effortlessly dodging her opponents. To call her simply sadistic would be a huge misunderstanding. Everything had been meticulously planned in advance, according to the young woman's predictions. Her master's power would only manifest upon seeing blood or engaging in life-and-death battle. Without reaching a level of life-threatening danger, the power would remain dormant, explaining why Esther's psychic or magical powers were almost non-existent; they were hidden within.

    The mythic chain in human form started to pretend to be unable to dodge those coming attacks. A bit of pain in exchange for her master’s leap development was totally worth it. Since life-or-death battles weren't common in normal circumstances, even though Esther might become irritated and power up occasionally, anger would cause a much greater surge.

    Initially, Tartarus planned to wait until the end-of-week war to feign injury or have someone else attack her master lightly. Today's incident turned out to be unexpectedly beneficial for her. What nearly everyone noticed, but Esther himself was oblivious to, was:

    Esther always held back against women until it was absolutely necessary.

    But she wanted to see him get serious from the beginning.