Episode 54 - The Last Four Gang Lords 3



'GYAAAGH—?!'
"Get OFF—!!"
He concentrated Aura into his fingertips until it formed something like claws, then tore savagely at the fabric constricting him from every side.
The pain was worse than expected — Seakloy immediately stopped drinking.
Having spent this time together in robe form, she knew all too well what this man's monstrous strength and utterly unhinged temperament were capable of. He would genuinely tear the Robe of Sanguine Dark to shreds and set the pieces on fire — and think nothing of it.
'Wait! Alright! Alright, I said! Just listen for a moment—!'
"......!"
The way he curled his index finger into a hook and dragged at the fabric, tearing it little by little — as though enjoying the process — made Seakloy freeze in terror.
Right. Once this lunatic's switch flipped, almost nothing could stop him.
'Please! Stop! I'll cooperate with catching Athunga — just stop!'
"......"
The desperate cry made Kaftin's hand pause — but he shook his head shortly after and raised his fingers again.
"I'd rather just do it myself than trust someone like you. Get off me. Now."
The moment the words left him, Seakloy stopped constricting and immediately tried to negotiate again.
'H-hey. Instead of all this — why don't we make a deal...?'
"Want me to pour urine on you again?"
'D-don't just get angry... if you work with me, it'll definitely be to your benefit...?'
Kaftin shook his head.
Without some blood-sucking leech of a garment, he was already halfway invincible by himself.
"I'm not weak enough to need something like you clinging to me and trembling. Get off. You're annoying."
'...Really? But you have no resistance to Aura attacks...'
"Aura Masters aren't exactly common. What do I care."
'Are you worried I'll drain you again like just now?'
Seakloy was desperate.
She had never tasted blood like this anywhere.
If she could obtain this blood on a continuous basis, the possibility that she might one day reclaim the true physical form she had longed for no longer seemed entirely out of reach.
"That too — but I told you, I don't need it. Instead of the obvious pitch, try presenting me with some other merit."
'...Ugh...!'
Seakloy scrambled to think.
Resistance to Aura attacks would make him effectively invincible in almost any fight. For any ordinary human, that would have been an irresistibly appealing offer — and yet he was dismissing it and asking for more.
'F-fine... at least I promise I won't take a large amount like just now. Like I said, I'd been awake and unable to drink anything this whole time — I was starving, so it couldn't be helped.'
"......"
'More than anything — your body's strange magic resistance means I can't drink freely anyway! Not unless you voluntarily cut yourself and let me drink!'
"Hmph."
At his dismissive snort, Seakloy finally pulled out her last resort — the one she had never wanted to say.
'You're really going to do this? You're really going to tear a delicate Draculina like me apart and kill her?!'
"......"
Kaftin's expression hardened.
Then his brow creased, and he said:
"...That's the first I've heard that."
'Of course it is. The only ones who knew I was a woman were the necromancers of the school Athunga belonged to — the ones who turned me into this ridiculous garment two hundred years ago!'
"You didn't tell Athunga?"
'Obviously not. Being captured by human hands and reduced to this was bad enough — if he'd found out I was a woman on top of it, how much more would he have looked down on me...'
Kaftin gave a short laugh and shook his head.
"What a world. Are there no gentlemen left in it?"
'Tell me about it. So — what are you going to do? Are you going to tear me to pieces just like that?'
"......"
This was information she had never wanted to reveal to anyone until the day she could reclaim her own body.
This had been a significant gamble for Seakloy too.
"First — I'll need to confirm your objective."
'......'
"Exercising your right to silence? I can't cooperate with you without knowing what you're after. That's a matter of basic trust, before anything else."
'Kgh...!'
This, too, she could not say truthfully.
That she wanted to drink her fill of Kaftin's blood and someday reclaim her original Draculina form.
What a human like Kaftin would think of that was far too obvious.
"Well — at minimum, you need my blood. That much is clear."
'...Th-that's right...'
"And you don't want to give me the specifics."
'...Y-yes...'
She was bracing herself inwardly, certain he was going to refuse — and then Kaftin gave a short laugh and nodded his head.
"Well, fine... women are always entitled to a secret or two."
'...Eh?'
"It's a deal. Your name is...?"
'Seakloy. Seakloy von Tantaluque!'
"So you're really done taking Athunga's side."
'Yes. To be honest, I was never there by choice.'
Something like a grudging attachment, if anything.
At the same time, none of Athunga's school's necromancers had ever been a wearer that truly suited her.
But right now, in this moment, she had encountered someone she could genuinely call an ideal wearer — even by her own estimation.
True, the personality was so unhinged it went beyond crazy into something approaching monstrous, and if provoked he would just as easily tear apart this garment that was her precious body — but still...
'...At least someone who calls themselves a gentleman won't treat me carelessly either, will they?'
In the short time they had spent together, she had come to understand that when it came to women and children at least, he was remarkably — almost shockingly — gentle.
"Hmph. Honestly, undead usually don't count for me — just so you know."
'That's terrible?!'
"Special case. You have your uses, and more than anything—"
'......?'
Kaftin shook the rubble off himself and stood — wearing that characteristic unhinged grin, he ran his tongue slowly over his lips.
"A night with a vampire is every man's dream romance."
'......!'
She was a split second away from firing back with something scathing — and stopped herself.
Because Kaftin had immediately leaped back into position to face Athunga.
"Hey! Athunga!"
"You bastard! You were still alive?!"
"Yes. That garment made things a bit dicey for a moment."
"Tch... even so... that mongrel blood of yours being any good to drink..."
Athunga was genuinely rattled.
The Robe of Sanguine Dark had drunk the wearer's blood.
Which meant it had acknowledged the wearer.
If it absorbed the power and memories contained in that blood and transformed to optimize for the new wearer, the process would become irreversible.
Once the Robe authenticated a wearer through bloodfeeding, it would demand only that wearer's blood and offer its full power only to them — until another compatible wearer put it on and overwrote the authentication.
In other words — if this continued, the most prized relic of his entire school might be stolen right before his eyes by this outrageous creature called Kaftin!
"Take that garment off at once! You have no right to wear it!"
"Right...? Right, you said... could that possibly mean receiving the acknowledgment of the vampire inside this robe — Seakloy?"
"......Kgh?!"
The moment Kaftin casually dropped Seakloy's name, Athunga panicked.
He had to get the garment away from this man immediately.
"Take it off this instant! You insolent wretch!"
"Try and take it! If you can!"
Nimbly dodging the surging undead, he swept his hand in passing and stripped a mace straight out of one zombie's grip.
Athunga's Brute Body rushed in behind them and threw a punch — but this time Kaftin planted his foot hard into the ground and braced.
"Wh-what?!"
"Still not clear...?! When that muscle pile touches me it just becomes a corpse...?!"
"Hmph! As if I don't know...!"
The fist that had struck him kept losing control. He kept pouring mana in forcibly to maintain it — while with his other arm he reached out and grabbed the hem of the garment Kaftin was wearing.
"Seakloy! What's so good about the blood of a mongrel like this?! Come here right now!"
'...I'm sorry. Athunga.'
"What...?!"
'I'm no longer going with you.'
"...! You're going to betray me! You wretched vampire!"
The betrayal declaration transmitted through his mind made the whites of Athunga's eyes go red.
He hadn't truly believed she would do it.
"Who do you think has been giving you blood all this time?! Who do you think has proven himself a worthy wearer all this time?! You really have no pride at all, you filthy un— pfugh!"
"Ignoring me gets you this."
While Athunga had been distracted by Seakloy, Kaftin deliberately threw himself backward and kicked upward with his toe, connecting squarely with Athunga's jaw.
Athunga's aged teeth shattered and scattered in every direction — and he crumpled backward, spitting blood.
"Pfugh...! Cough...! You cowardly wretch...!"
"Cowardly? That's what happens when you're foolish enough to take your eyes off someone like me."
"Kgh...!"
His mana was running dry, and his body was in no better shape.
The pain in his abdomen from where Kaftin had struck him earlier hadn't faded — which suggested the Aura Skill effect wasn't simply penetrating impact.
Sensing that this path led to death, Athunga swallowed his fury and finally pulled himself free from the Brute Body.
"Brute Body! Hold him off...!"
The body, which had stilled for a moment, rose again and came striding toward Kaftin — as Athunga clutched his stomach and his mouth and began staggering away in the opposite direction.
He would lose today — but he swore to himself that one day he would find this man's fatal weakness and return the debt with interest.
"What, you're running? That's the one that counts as cowardly."
"Kgh...! Silence! This is a strategic retreat — one step back in service of tomorrow's victory! Before long I will absolutely—!"
He was glaring back at Kaftin with blazing eyes — and then a sight he never wanted to see was unfolding right before him.
'I acknowledge you... as my new master. Kaftin.'
"......?"
The Robe of Sanguine Dark rippled and began shifting into something entirely different.
"No... not this..."
His heart was shattering — but today, he had to run.
Revenge required being alive.
"I'll remember this...! I'll remember this, Kaftiiin...! How dare you... how dare you take everything from me...!"
When the rippling garment finished reshaping itself, it was no longer a robe of any kind.
Against dark leather-textured fabric, bone-shaped armor pieces in reddish ivory clung to the surface.
The armor on each arm was asymmetrical — on the right hung a skull with four jawbones suspended below it, while the left shoulder bore an ominous cluster of tentacle-shaped attachments draped down from it.
Around the right forearm wound a black iron chain, and into the metal plate on the back of the hand, the word Sealed had been engraved in intaglio.
Along the shins, sharp bone fragments were layered downward like scales, while the thigh sections flared out slightly to either side.
"Hold on a moment — why is it armor instead of a robe..."
Kaftin turned himself this way and that, clearly needing a moment to adjust to how much it had changed.
Seakloy cleared her throat and preened.
'You should know this, shouldn't you? I'm an ego suit. Not a simple robe. I transformed into the form optimized for you — based on the power and memories carried in your blood.'
"...Good service."
Seakloy felt an inward rush of relief at his satisfied tone.
At least she no longer had to worry about being torn to pieces.
'And from now on, I'll only exert my power when you're wearing me... and when you're lonely, I could even come play with you in your dreams... how about that?'
"Hmph. You're not a succubus — you can even pull tricks like that?"
'I had to research something to fill the time since I lost my body. Under normal circumstances, if I judged a wearer to be weak, I could even take over their body entirely, you know?'
She had been showing off and let slip something she absolutely should not have said — and she went very quiet very quickly. The corner of Kaftin's mouth curved into a sharp smile.
"So you'd like to take over my body as well?"
'Th-th-that's not it! I can't even get inside your body to begin with! It's only barely possible to communicate like this at all, thanks to that strange magic resistance of yours!'
"...That tracks. The reason we couldn't communicate until now was that without drinking my blood, the link never connected."
'Exactly! Do you have any idea how much I suffered being so hungry?!'
At the first sign of her starting to get uppity again, Kaftin immediately took hold of the bone armor piece on the chest and applied enough pressure to suggest he was about to pry it free.
"Oh? So you're capable of feeling pain... I was wondering whether I could just tear off this armor section whenever you start getting too full of yourself..."
'Wait?! What — what are you doing?!'
"Nothing much. You can apparently feel pain — so I thought if you kept getting above yourself, tearing off this armor section or so would be a reasonable response..."
'Stop it?! More importantly, are you really not going after him?! Athunga!'
She hurriedly redirected his attention toward Athunga — and only then did Kaftin turn his gaze that way.
"Right, that. Completely forgot."
'You...'
After raging about revenge with such passionate obsession — and now he had completely forgotten about it in the middle of a conversation.
The blood was extraordinary — but Seakloy found herself genuinely worried about what came next.
—To be continued—