Another Vampire Hunter: Greylancer: Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

Heroes

1

There are days when the blue sky pierces through, of which the days were of grey that people have forgotten about.

The hope for just one more day of that blue sky was in vain as signs of winter began to cross the great red clay plains, making the disproportionately large stone graveyard that towers over the small village of the Northern Frontier Sector look that much colder than usual.

The sound of a knavish hawk could be heard from a distance, yet it could not reach the corners surrounded in stone from all directions.

The large stone graveyard was a characteristic of the early days of the original Nobles era.

Each space was about 1000 square meters in size with a bunch of rocks that weigh over several hundred tons. Said space area was no less than a hundred square meters, able to fit as many as a dozen or so people in them.

It was easy to tell all the room's corners through the sunlight that flow in like fog through the 10-meter tall, 5-meter wide doorway.

In the middle of arching shadows was an old-style electric heating stove that was full of dents and burning.

An hour had passed since the switch was turned on. The talk between the shadows has just ended.

"Check them out."

A man in a homemade butler's outfit, which was full of burn marks and bullet holes here and there, looked around.

There were twelve of them that were split into two groups. Two of them had rugged looks and were dressed in field clothes and carried a hoe and sickle on their belts. The other ten were carrying a crossbow, a stake gun, a gunpower rifle, a laser gun, and other dangerous arms.

But looking closely, their positions and appearances were in fact opposite to each other.

Despite the obvious freight that swayed in the eyes of the rough fellows that stared at the two farmers, they were strangely calm.

"Keep any and all 'Anti-Escape plans' to yourself. Us two are kept closed in our chest."

As if they waited for it, the men in combat uniforms let go of their gaze toward the farmers.

"No matter what, our mission is to deliver these two men. Even if it costs our life...even if we were to be changed."

Perhaps those who have crossed that deadline too many times swallowed their raw spit.

"Scared?"

Asked one of the farmers in his 40s in a complete country accent. He was smiling. The stove's flames cast a shadow over his face, making him look terribly creepy.

"Do not fret. We have our duties. Unless something really goes wrong, you won't ever be replaced. If worst comes to worst, he can slip by himself."

Everyone couldn't help but look at him.

The young man with red cheeks was a boy, probably in his mid-teens. Softly, he turned toward the men with frightened and angry looks. But his face was also smiling too.

 "I don't think so. It will you that's going to die."

The men in combat uniforms spat out in response.

"Not to worry. I'll be protecting him until I die. At least until the boy slips in. No, I suppose it's us that'll die then."

The two of them laughed. A feeling more intense than rage shook the ten men.

Or so said the boy-

"Well, you said 'boy', but that doesn't mean he can slip through like that. Last I remember, he was a much older figure."

Ten and two--they were creatures no different from one another that had the same appearance.

A muffled electric noise could be heard next to the stove.

The alarm system near the ground at the doorway caught one of their attention.

They approached and picked up the monitor that was full of scratches.

"There were more than ten of them. Shit, they've been erased."

"The Nobility's Machine Puppets?"

Another one asked as he removed the safety off his laser gun.

The man holding the monitor shook his head.

"You a human...or perhaps you're not like your friend there?"

The laser's muzzle was pointed right at the duo. Soon after, more weapons followed suit. The two men shared three glances with one another...

"You said I was human..."

As the older man spoke, several footsteps were approaching.

"Be quick about this. These guys are Sunhawk's cubs."

One of the men in combat uniform pulled from his waist a large pistol that looked like a handgun placed on a trumpet. 

It looked to have two barrels that were over and under each other, with the under barrel having a closed end.

"You mind shutting the door?"

He asked.

The boy nodded. He took out a silver conductor-like baton from a carrier bag and points it at the door.

This was the room's entrance. Leaning against the room's doorway was a stone slab, more like a stone wall, that was 50 centimeters thick.

Like a piece of paper blown by the wind, it floated lightly in the air. The conductor-like baton was a gravity field generator.

"There!"

A scream resonated from across the room, and a man dressed like the ten men dove into the side of the doorway that was about to be closed.

"Don't move, Garc!"

The one with the large pistol fired first, and rightly so before the one with the gunpower rifle could open fire.

A streak of poison sticks onto the man, which then turned into a searing mass of flames that enveloped the whole body. The combat uniform's weapon was a flamethrower, which the lower tube may have been filled with chemical fuel that was highly compressed.

Then, there was a new cry which pierced through the 200 ton stone wall.

From underneath the door, the stone bar that locked it floated lightly in the air. Entering the room when it opened were the investigation team from the Capital. The team used ultrasonic waves to search out the thinnest part of the wall and after finding it, blasted holes through it and rushed in, with the hole being filled upon exiting.

Shots rang out in the room. The one in the combat uniform called Garc put in an end to the flaining fireball. The smell of burning flesh and hair made everyone's noses flare up, yet no one vomitted.

"We can't go back like this. Let's get out of here."

Garc waved his flame gun towards the back of the room.

As soon as everyone gathered to the north part of the room, Garc removed the mobile from his belt and began pressing at a speed unbefitting to his burly fingers.

Pii, the mobile screamed.

At the same time, the stone door exploded.

Masses of rock and shock waves knocked down the men without them having any moment to speak.

But the stone wall exploded outwards, allowing enough space for a man to stand and walk through them.

"Go..."

Garc shouted. The other two were under masses of rock. The older man had his head crushed while there was nothing for the boy from the waist down. Both had fresh blood flowing their nose and mouth. What could have they met when he said go?

"Go!"

Garc repeats it again.

"You go on ahead...I'll be right behind you...you guys go first...run."

The broken voice leaked out from the mouth of the elderly farmer that was full of blood.

The instructions made from a corpse. Garc was as close to dead as he could possibly be, with his right lung and his left knee crushed by the mass of rocks.

Gunshots roared out.

"Go on! Go!"

How could the dead hear any of this?

The faces and hands of the two farmers were suddenly covered in silvery sticky lump. No, it was sticky from the very beginning.

"That's it...come on!"

Garc grunted in a blood-curdling voice.

He watched silently with a smile as the boy slid across the floor to him like peanut butter, and the older man drifting towards those who still remain to fight.

This time, it was his turn to laugh.

The latest problem for the adminstrators not only in the Northen Frontier District but in the very [Frontier District] itself was the uprising of rebellions in the human population.

Even though the problem arose the moment the Nobility took control of the World, very few were serious enough in setting out the matter. The rebels were too fragile, the earliest rebellions had fewer numbers in arms, and the ones that did got their hands on from the Nobility were so inadequete in being able to use them.

Even if they knew about the wedge driven into the heart of the Nobility would be their downfall, it was meaningless if they could not capatilize on the opprotunity. 

Since the day when the Nobility became rulers, they had installed in their graveyards with defensive measures using state of the art technology. Thus, the only way humans can attack them would be to uncover the graves of their Noble kin, stick a stake into their hearts, and behead them.

But as time went on, the rebels became stronger.

They collected scattered weapons, made their own if they lack them, created factories for them, study the Nobility's way of life, and even developed the means to defeat the tombs defenses.

A number of Nobles vanishing into dust by the hands of insignificant primates surprised the Nobility around the 100th year of the Nobility calander. The Science Center had analyzed that it would take over 500 years before humans could reach that level. Some of those that exist have heard about the so-called hidden power in these "insects", yet no records exist of this kind of information.

Even into the 100th year in this cycle, however, rebellions were scarce and only within the subregions, with the Nobility showing no signs of crisis regarding this.

But it wasn't until a millenium after this did "hatred", "hostility", and "vigilance" against "humans" became more prominent than "contempt" in numerous records. Even more, humans had went from "insects" to at least "pests". It would be another 2,000 years for the "pests" to get another name.

The rebel who would fire her first records into the Capital is Ashley Thoma.

Over the Eastern Frontier Sector, Gim Haskal, equipped with flying equipment he himself created, had attacked 150 transports, looted their supplies, and shot them down for over 10 years.

The "Vermillion" Schbeik, which slammed a small meteorite onto the Grand Army led by the Noble General, Duke Dyssend, who never hid away from the world, destroying the Duke in the process.

Then, 700 years after the death of the "Vemillion" Schbeik, whom was praised as part of the "Great Three" among the rebels, came forth a new hero after the abominitable period of the "Great Suppression". 

Fast like the wind,

Silent as a forest,

Raiding like fire,

Immovable as a mountain,

With the lessons of warfare that were chanted in a small village since ancient times and with a scarf that depicts the "light of freedom" said to have been blessed by the clouds passing over the [Frontier], he who was called "Sunhawk" by the people led a band of rebels that drove stakes into the hearts of immortal bodies, beheaded them, and left right after like the wind. 

He was a indomitable one-eyed man with a body as physically strong as that of a Noble. In his right hand, he always carried a multi-barreled stake gun and it was said his eyes burned with hatred when shooting against the Nobility yet gazed with infinite kindness towards humans.

Three years since the sortie, he had buried more than a hundred Nobles and the total damage he inflicted to their facilities exceeded that in the trillions.

He was rather something that can be called a "demon", as he rode his cyborh horse to the [North] after causing mayham across the Frontier in the East, West, and South.

He was ready to take on the ruler of that land.

However, he had made a fatal mistake.

Why did he make a checkmate on this land?

A land under the dominion of the Noble Greylancer? 

2

In a private room in the Capital Office in the Bistria in the Northern Frontier Sector.

The Nobility's biological clock was read in BPM.

The blue moonlight streamed into the 20 long windows, 5 each in all directions that dug through the 5 meter high ceiling and casting shadows onto the stone floor...except for Greylancer's.

The Noble's anachronism was represented by European-style customs, but their surroundings were even older than that, or rather they were more old-fashioned as they were furnished out of stone and wood which were a model for quality and solidity. The only item that was disproportionate from all of this was a harp placed in front of a bookcase.

He approached the big rustic desk and rings the bell on it. In less than 5 seconds, Isabella, a blonde-haired maid, entered with a tray of a gold alcohol bottle and glass.

She was trembling with beauty yet if one were to place an ear to her chest, they would hear the sound of clanking gears rather than the pulse of warm blood. She was an android, and the gears, too, were something of the Nobilitiy's liking rather than solely that of Greylancer's. Not just the sound, but even the gears were in motion as a source of power. Of course, the conductive system that transmits the gears to all the parts of the body were powered by the latest Nobility technology that humans will never be able to comprehend.

Placing the bottle and glass on the table, Isabella silently gazes at her master,

"Anything else you may request?"

She asked.

"You are excused."

They replied.

"You look well with that mask."

"Go."

Isabella silently bowed and left the room.

Sometimes, he wondered if she was a human or half-ghost in disguise.

The left half of Greylancer's face was covered in a white-mask.

It was the result of a burn scar from a battle 5 years ago caused by the struggle between the Administrator of the Southern Frontier Sector Duschess Mircalla, and the Administrator of the Eastern Frontier Sector Zeus Macula, who attempted to take over the Privy Council. 

Greylancer approached the desk, pouring the contents of the bottle into the glass and downs it in one gulp, the glass being as big as a golden beer mug.

Without so much of a breath after emptying the glass, the Noble wiped his mouth with a red cloth kept on the table. It would last him for a whole day.

"My stomach is full, but the taste is unsavory."

The only thing Greylancer had free access to was his private chambers, where he took his lance off its hinges and strode to the doorway with his high footsteps.

A voice called out from behind,

"Are you leaving?"

It was the voice of a quiet woman.

As was the case, the voice did not give any indication for the lord himself, Greylancer, to show no surprise on his face as he turned around.

"You would have perished a long time ago were you an assassin."

There was a dark-haired woman that stood at the front with an oddly calm gaze. He knew from a glance exactly what her task was.

From her white hands that peeked out from her blue dress was an item gently hanging out: a harp.

She was a harp player named Tae, the only one permitted to enter and leave Greylancer's private chambers freely by his permission.

"I'm not in the mood to listen for this morning. You'll want to wait until I come back."

"I sense a sign is coming. The sign of death."

"That so?"

He said over his shoulder,

"Are you going to the village?"

What stopped him was a voice of melody.

"Don't go."

The great Noble smiled after hearing her let out those words.

"Are you going to stop me with the harp? Perhaps you will let me hear those 'dark thoughts' that Lord Archduke Bartholomew spoke of?"

"When the time comes, My Lord."

"Oh? Then what is it?"

"I don't know."

Tae replied. Her reply was like the evening glow of the setting sun.

"Well since you just arrived, naturally you would know. But I think it's best if you did not."

"Heh."

She wasn't interested in Greylancer's remark.

That comment was nothing more than a gag remark, and yet it seems he intended to at least deal with her, to deal with Tae.

"I won't allow you to interfere with me anymore. Even if you are in the custody of Archduke Bartholomew."

"Then excuse me."

Tae bowed.

--Is she apologizing to me?

Was the thought that ran through a part of Greylancer's mind, but quickly dismissed it.

"Then you may return."

Those were the words he spoke without looking at Tae.

After waiting a moment to turn around, he no longer saw the figure in the blue dress.

Greylancer shook his head, feeling as if she wasn't there to begin with.

"What an eccentric, that Archduke Bartholomew. Sending such an incomprehensible person who learns music to my hands, someone who has nothing to do with music and dance."

He looked out the long window's.

The darkness was deep, especially for this morning. So much he could not even see the stars. Greylancer liked the mornings.

He picked up the empty glass and observed the bits of red at the bottom.

"We've yet to develop the technology to keep them fresh. Cold alcohol is good, but not enough for the seasons."

Putting down the glass, he walks toward the doorway. Heavy and loud, the stone floor carried his echoing footsteps to the world.

Around the thick stone door were signs of Tae's coming and going.

It came back to him.

(I think it's better if you don't know)

A faint wave rode across his chest.

(When that time comes, you will naturally understand)

--And it disappears.

Greylancer pushes aside the several ton stone door with one hand and without using the on/off switch, and leaves the room.

The moonlight streaming through the high windows of the long corridor dyed the long lance in an eerie white luster.

The Northern Frontier Sector villages were categorized by a less vigilant attitude toward the Nobility than any other parts of the country.

The ruler's violent acts of sneaking in from out of nowhere and sucking the blood of people have remained unchanged over the ages.

Even a full-grown beautiful daughter was found one night with her translucent, blood-soaked glass-like skin exposed to the sunlight. When the identity of the lord who committed this evil act was instantly revealed, neither the father, mother, nor brother could object in the slightest.

It was implicitly understood as being one of the conditions in which the Nobility, the lords, protect their subjects.

Those who abhor it were given the choice of either fleeing or killing the Nobility. Only the former was possible back then, but when it became clear that this was impossible, they were given no choice but to resign in facing the night with an impotent gaze.

No matter where they fled, the hands of the Nobility and their men accurately and persistently hunt them down, giving them just a moment before beheading them without a chance to retaliate.

Then the change happened around the year 69XX of the Nobility calender. It was a revolution not of iron, but of stone to gold.

One of the deadliest enemies in the history of the Nobility, the OSB, Outer Space Beings launched an invasion.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend" was what the rebels tried to employ in this old-logic without thinking, and for that they learned it was futile for the OSB, who sought to conquer the planet, as it was "the enemy of my enemy is also my enemy".

However, even the OSB soon came to learn the benefit of fighting together with the rebels.

The rebel's goal was to send any Noble's they captured to the OSB, and after they've absorbed and transformed them would they deal a fatal blow to their organization. In return, the OSB would take a third of the planet. After that, they could create a history of peace through non-interference from each other.

A bizarre and unorthodox deal that blinded anyone to the invaders true nature.

The OSB didn't just want a third of the planet, they wanted all of it. Yet such a foolish lack of divisive recognition proved just how deeply fierce the rebel's hate for the Nobility and the despair of their future was.

Even then, only two cases of these fruits of achievements have been recorded in the last 100 years since the clash between the Nobility and OSB began.

One had the OSB's "disguise" themselves as Nobles and invaded the capital of the Frontier Sector and just as they were about to poison the administrator, their intents were read out by a Telepath and were annihilated. Another was targeting the wrong person. That person was the administrator of the Western Frontier Sector, Lord Mayerling.

Afterwards, there remained traces of two dissolved OSB and a large number of "fake" rebels. Once the Nobility were brought before the OSB, humans were of no use to them any longer.

The fakes, seeking for more new prey, were wiped out just in time when one of them fled and went to Sunhawk.

The Sunhawk party, who desired to accomplish a revolution without the aid of either the Nobility or OSB, may have been the Nobility's true enemy.

It was just a few days ago did Greylancer received word that the Sunhawk party had apparently invaded the Northern Frontier Sector after causing mayham to the Fronter Sectors of the South, East, and West.

"Ah, you've come at last."

When Yunus, his second-in-command, informed him of this, he gave a wry smile. He was no different from the other Nobility who gave no regards to humans.

However, this smile was gleaming with joy that was given only to foes was because of the fact this great Noble knew not to underestimate his foes even if he despised them.

 "In the year since I took over, I have wiped out every OSB and bandit army, leaving only the cold ends of the Frontier."

"As you say."

Responded blankly the competent second-in-command.

Once, there was a band of robbers who raided villages in the Frontier Sector and fled like wind and thunder before the Nobility's escorts could arrive. And if they were to flee pass the Border of the neighboring Frontier Sectors, they would be beyond their range of pursuit.

But if they were like wind and thunder, Greylancer's hands were like light.

Most scoundrels would be slaughtered before they can even flee, especially so for those nearing the Borders. The latter was deliberately set up by the Nobility as a way for them to savor the despair of those who are plunged from the height of hope to the depths of hell. 

It is for this reason that they were currently overlooking the bandits fleeing from the Frontier Sector and onto another as soon as they committed a small mayhem in a matter of minutes so he could enjoy the pleasure of welcoming them deep into his land and tear them apart in cold blood. But if Greylancer ever so desired, he could simply destroy the humans before they could even invade.

Even if one were to perform a survey on all of the creatures on the planet, everyone would agree that the Sunhawk Party would not last anymore than a day in the Northern Frontier Sector if Greylancer were to desire stopping them.

The only reason it has gone on for a few days was because Greylancer had ordered to leave it be.

"All it takes is just one moment to crush them. I have been bored a little lately, so it's not too late to see what they will do until then."

Yunus sighed internally.

And now...

3

"One of the villagers and another have informed the local authorities that a fight broke out between humans in the graveyard at Tutroje. An official was sent to the scene and they discovered 11 bodies. They are believed to have been part of the Anti-Nobility League However, our contact also reported that two OSB's were involved."

"Was this from the villager?"

"No. It was from the other one."

"Ah. Who would that be?"

"It was a note shot at the official's office with Sunhawk's signature on it."

"Ho? So the official has come to ask for help from humans?"

"It was shot from the other side."

Yunus' voice grew stronger. He figured that the official's office would be destroyed, though it would mean all of the low-ranking Nobles stationed there would be killed.

"Locate the OSB's right this instance. Kill one and capture the other, but leave Sunhawk and his party be."

"Yes!"

"For what purpose does Sunhawk have for this invasion?"

"The rebels have but one purpose, and that is to assassinate you, My Lord."

"Very well. Then I will patrol near the village of Tutroje."

"Wait, sir!"

Yunus ran up to catch them, but they had given up.

For once a life and death situation catches this Great Noble, no one can stop him.

"Ready up the autodyne at once. Same for my chariot."

Though mild the voice was, it was something he knew to obey.

But in surprise, Yunus responded--

"Before you go, there is someone waiting for you that likes to be taken into custody."

"Ho?"

Greylancer's eyes lit up.

"Are they a drifter fighter?"

"As you say."

"A Noble?"

As with the human world, the Nobility's society, whose hierarchy build was far stricter than humans, had many deserters. 

In particular, fighters skilled in martial arts usually went to the Frontier Sectors where the Nobility, Humans, and OSB intertwine, in order to sell themselves to the Senior Nobles who were in charge of those areas.

Of course, in order to win the deadly battle that can be overturned not only by Humans, but also the Nobility and OSB, true ability was required.

In most cases, one's life and soul would be lost if they were merely dismissed through a test of skill before they can be taken in.

Thus, one who pride themselves in their skills would not be able to knock on the doors of the Nobility.

Thus,

"It's a human, my lord."

When he heard those words, the thin lips were distorted as the cheeks curled up.

"Yunus."

"Yes?"

"Humans only live once, they do not?"

"Correct, my lord."

"And if they die, they cannot be brought back, yes?"

"Correct, my lord."

"So why did they come to my castle? You know they cannot return alive."

"I do not know."

Said the thoughtly aide.

"That is the nature of humans. Would you like to see them? Perhaps it might be best if you send them money and have them be on their way."

"I don't need to go out and meet them. Let's have a little fun by sending them ten people, and if they can beat all ten, then I will go and meet them."

"Yes sir. Then when would you like to leave?"

"I've already delayed it long enough."

"Then ten men will suffice?"

"If they're not that good, then they are unfit to work for me in any way, shape or form."

It took Yunus a while to bow his head and give a reply, for he knew this man was terrifying as he felt it in his bones.

"It shouldn't be said to not choose those that you can easily associate yourself with."

Yunus reply came a little later than usual.

"I understand, sir."

The aide bowed deeply and left, feeling his heart tugged from the words his Lord said to him several decades ago.

"You have a soft spot for humans. You are one of the Seven Wonders of the Northern Frontier Sector, after all."

There was a training center dedicated to Greylancer among the lords.

Given enough time, and Greylancer's feet will always take him there.

After passing through the dressing room and opening the heavy doors, a vast stone space welcomed the Great Noble.

This wasn't a pseudo-space that most of the Nobility employed for 3D combat. This was a Battlefield that stretched to a kilometer in length and width surrounded by tens of thousands of tons of granite.

Hearing the doors close behind him, he started to walk.

There were no preliminary exercises, weapon selection, or adjustments. Not even a single deep breath or a slight change of the mind on a molecular level before he went in.

If anyone knew of the phrase "always on the battlefield", they would be hit on the knees with it.

After about 50 meters, a part of the 100 meter high ceiling opened up, where a flat-shaped disc descended and came to a stop after about 80 meters from the ground.

A dark, streamlined object ran from the bottom to the chest of Greylancer, emitting a dazzling light from its rear end.

A dark hand rose up. The hand that gripped the end of the long lance. Together with the arm, it was about 5 meters long.

It arched when the pencil missile reached a spot more than twice as it was from a distance.

The wind whistled.

The flash of the long lance, wielded by Greylancer, created tremendous turbulance that threw the missile off-course. The missile's internal computer initiated the stabilizers to work on regaining its original flight.

A new wind struck.

It far outweighed the propulsive energy of the missile. Two of the three missiles were swept away and made contact with the ground, creating a fireball 50 meters in diameter.

Greylancer raised his cape to repel against the 10,000-degree wave of flames slamming into it.

The remaining shot entered the airspace while correcting its proper course. The base steel armor held off the exploding flames, and it self-destructed 10 meters away from the target.

However, the swollen flames started to rapidly decline. It rapidly contracted, being sucked into a point in the air, and then it vanishes.

Greylancer pulled back his long lance and swung with all his might.

The lance's tip was scorched red as though it were lit ablaze, and disappeared.

The sound of a communicator rang inside his ear.

"Yes?"

As his lips moved, Yunus' face appeared from 5 meters above the ground.

"I'm in the middle of fighting here."

"Please forgive me, my lord. But those ten men you requested me to send have been cleared."

Greylancer's eyes lit up.

"How long has it been since you issued the order?"

"A little over 3 minutes ago, my lord."

"And each of the chosen opponents was taken out in a little over 18 seconds?"

"Correct, my lord."

It couldn't have been said if he had chosen such a truly fierce man, for no one can disobey this lord's instructions as heads will roll, and above all else, that wouldn't be incorrect either.

"Okay then. Let's not make them wait."

Before he could finish, a dark shadow enveloped his whole body.

It swooped down from above, a creature that resembled a giant fishing bell. Even Greylancer didn't know of what power it possessed. Only the computer knew the identity of this "enemy" and created them for this [Battlefield]. Perhaps the name [Creator God] is correct.

A dozen figures were solidified like dark stones under the moonlight.

This was a permanent battlezone set up in a corner of the courtyard in the lord's mansion. It was usually used to train soldiers or lure in and destroy invaders. Occasionally, it was used to test the skills of unsophisticated Humans or Nobility who try to sell off their skills before finishing their words.

Standing in the center of a square of about 100 square meters was a young man clad in a long crimson coat.

He was bare-handed, with no iron on his body. Rather bizarre for someone who volunteered to have their skills tested. 

Surrounding him from about 5 meters away were guards armed with electron guns, but their muzzles weren't trained on him as it was their lord's strict orders to not train guns on an unarmed man, no matter what sort of dangerous skills he might possess.

Not ten minutes had passed since the young man's skills were being tested, and it looked as though his body was more supple than muscular. The pale-guards were, of course, stone silent and the emotions that reflected in their eyes for the young man was...oh, what's this?

That moment, the young man's eyes lit up.

Ahead of him, a door to a stone tower connected to the castle wall opened to reveal a blue-caped figure. Underneath the dull gleam was golden embroidery on the outer garments.

But what caught the young man's eye was the long lance in his right hand.

The young man had heard from hundreds about the lord's weapon.

Some say that both the speartip and handle were made of a shiny black metal. Others say that the speartip was supported by a stone handle, and that the surface of the stone was inscribed in old battle spells.

Both were correct.

The long lance, head, and hilt that was glowing blue in the moonlight was no doubt of steel, and its surface was covered in numerous miniature carvings on top of spells with it.

The lord walked up to 5 meters away from the crimson young man before stopping. Seemingly, the moonlight had created some sort of chemical reaction with his cape, making him smolder in a dark-blue mist to the young man.

"I am Greylancer."

Said the man in the cape. Trailing behind him was an older man dressed like an aide.

"State your name."

"Ken Kurama."

Greylancer's memories faintly recalled the origin of this strange name, which he never heard from before until now.

Toyo...