Chapter 06

As Van and Bergard made their way back to the office, a heavy sense of dread hung over them. The news about Elaine's disappearance and the looming threat of a powerful vampire weighed heavily on their minds, casting a dark shadow over their thoughts.

Once inside, Van broke the silence. "We need to be ready for anything when Graham arrives. That vampire isn't going down without a fight, and we can't afford to be caught off guard."

Bergard nodded, his expression grim. "You're right, kid. We have to be prepared for whatever that damn creature throws at us." He paused, his gaze softening slightly as he looked at Van. "How are you holding up? I know this whole situation must be hitting you hard."

Van sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I'm... managing, I guess. But it's tough, not knowing what's happened to Elaine, and wondering if we'll find her in time. It's driving me insane. I feel like I'm just standing here, doing nothing, while something terrible could be happening to her."

Bergard placed a reassuring hand on Van's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know how you feel. But you can't let your emotions cloud your judgment. We need to stay focused if we're going to find Elaine. We have to keep our heads clear and come up with a solid plan."

Van took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Yeah, you're right. I can't let my emotions get the best of me. We need to stay focused and make a plan. I just hope we find Elaine in time. The thought of losing her… I can't bear it."

"We'll find her," Bergard said firmly, his grip on Van's shoulder tightening. "And we'll make that vampire pay for what he's done. We just need to stay calm and focused. We'll get through this."

Suddenly, Bergard paused, a new thought crossing his mind.

Van noticed the change and looked at him curiously. "What is it, old man? You look like you just had an idea."

Bergard met Van's gaze. "Have you reached out to your friend in the Intelligence Division? Maybe he has some information."

Van's eyes widened. Of course! Why hadn't he thought of that sooner? "No, I haven't. That's a good idea. I'll call him right away."

He quickly pulled out his phone, a glimmer of hope rising within him. He dialed René Kincaid's number, expecting to hear his friend's voice. But instead, a woman answered.

"Hello? You're speaking with the Intelligence Division of the Calvard National Police. How can I help you?"

Van was momentarily thrown off, but he recovered quickly, replying in a professional tone. "This is Van Arkride. I need to speak with René Kincaid, please. It's important."

After a brief pause, the woman responded, "I'm sorry, Mr. Arkride, but Mr. Kincaid hasn't reported for duty since yesterday. He won't be back for at least two weeks."

Van's heart sank at the news. René was missing too? This couldn't be a coincidence. "What do you mean he won't be back for two weeks? I need to talk to him—it's urgent!"

The woman sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Arkride. Mr. Kincaid was assigned a secret task by his superior, Kilika Rouran. He reported back yesterday morning, saying he'd found a benefactor for his career and would be out of the country for two weeks. I can't reach him on his private phone or email."

Van clenched his free hand, frustration gnawing at him. Something wasn't adding up. "A benefactor? That doesn't sound like René. And what kind of investigation would make him disappear for two weeks with no way to contact him? This doesn't make any sense."

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of it all. "Do you know anything about this 'benefactor'? Or what this investigation was about? Is there any way to find René?"

The woman hesitated before replying, "I'm not sure. But I could try to connect you with his superior, Miss Rouran."

Van's interest piqued. If anyone could shed light on this situation, it was Kilika Rouran. "Yes, please. Connect me to her—this is urgent."

After a moment, the line clicked, and a calm, authoritative voice answered. "Head of the Analysis Division, Kilika Rouran speaking. What can I do for you?"

Van breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he was speaking to someone who might have answers. "Miss Rouran, this is Van Arkride. I'm sorry for the unexpected call, but I need to reach René Kincaid. I understand he's out of town for an investigation, but can you tell me anything about this 'benefactor' he mentioned?"

Kilika sighed, a hint of exasperation in her tone. "Ah, Van Arkride. Why do you ask? Do you need René to bail you out of something?"

Van bristled at her condescending tone but kept his voice steady. "No, I'm not asking for his help to 'bust me out of something.' This is a matter of life and death. Can you tell me anything about this investigation?"

Kilika paused, her tone becoming more thoughtful. "Now that you mention it, I found it suspicious myself. All right, I'll tell you what I know."

Van leaned forward, his focus sharpening. "Please, anything you can share would be helpful."

Kilika began, "You're aware that Almata has been disbanded since Gerard Dante's defeat, correct?"

Van nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, the government's been working hard to dismantle what's left of Almata's organization."

Kilika continued, "Originally, the plan was to acquire all of Almata's estates for government use. But recently, they were all bought by a single person."

Van's eyebrows shot up. "All of Almata's estates? By one person? Who has the resources for that?"

Kilika's voice took on a sly edge. "That's the catch. According to my intel, it was an Erebonian nobleman. He recently moved to Edith. His name is Lord Kain. I sent René to investigate, but he never returned. The last message I received from him said they had befriended each other and were traveling abroad to finalize an agreement."

Van's mind raced with this new information. An Erebonian nobleman? Who would go to such lengths to acquire Almata's assets? "Do you have any more details on this 'Lord Kain'? Where did he come from? What's his business in Edith?"

Kilika hesitated. "Well… in the two days since René's disappearance, I had my contacts in the Bracer Guild investigate Erebonian nobility. None of them had ever heard of a nobleman named Lord Kain."

Van's expression turned grim. "So, this 'Lord Kain' doesn't even exist in Erebonia? And you had to find out through the Bracer Guild? Doesn't the Intelligence Division have any intel on Erebonian nobles?"

Kilika's tone softened, becoming more reflective. "I had the Intelligence Division look into it, but we couldn't find any clues about this 'Lord Kain.' No family tree, no birth records, no occupation, nothing. He's a complete enigma. That's why I brought in the Bracers to double-check."

Van's frustration grew. "So, a mysterious Erebonian nobleman with no apparent history or existence? This gets more suspicious by the minute. Did René leave any more information? Anything that could help?"

Kilika shook her head. "No. All we got was his message about being absent for at least two weeks."

Van clenched his jaw, dread creeping in. "No other information at all? Just that he befriended this 'Lord Kain' and is traveling with him for two weeks? There must be something more—something he didn't put in the message..."

He paced the room, trying to make sense of it all. "René wouldn't just go off on a spontaneous trip with some Erebonian nobleman. He doesn't even know any Erebonians, as far as I know." An idea struck him, and he stopped pacing, turning to the phone. "Miss Rouran, you said all of Almata's estates have been bought out, right?"

Kilika nodded. "Yes, that's true."

Van's eyes narrowed. "I need your help. Can you get me all the information you can on those properties? Ownership, access codes, anything. I'll need to visit them in person."

Kilika hesitated before agreeing. "Alright, but be careful. I suspect this 'Lord Kain' is more dangerous than he appears."

Van nodded, determination in his eyes. "I'll be careful. I have a bad feeling about this, too. Those properties might hold the key to his true identity and motive."

Kilika sent Van the addresses: Vantaille District 66, Tyrell District 44, Auber District 7, Riverside Storage Room 13, Central Station Street 55, and House 88 on the Centre Marche.

Van jotted down the addresses, his expression set. "Thank you, Miss Rouran. I'll check out these properties immediately and keep you updated."

He ended the call and turned to Bergard. "Old man, I need you to come with me. We're going to check out these addresses."

Bergard nodded. "Understood. Let's go."

...

Together, they made their way to Vantaille District 66. The neighborhood was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling in Van's mind. As they approached the address, a nagging suspicion tugged at Van. Something felt off.

"This is it," Van murmured, surveying the seemingly ordinary building. "Let's be cautious."

They entered cautiously, every sense on high alert. The foyer was dimly lit, the silence oppressive. As they moved through the room, their footsteps echoed softly. Van's eyes caught an open door on the left. He gestured to Bergard to stay alert and approached the door.

It led to a staircase. Van glanced back at Bergard and motioned for him to follow. They ascended the creaking stairs slowly, trying to keep their footsteps light. At the top, they found themselves in a long, dimly lit hallway.

At the end of the hallway stood a black box, its shape unmistakably coffin-like. A symbol was engraved on it: a white, V-shaped emblem with three tips pointing upward, resembling the spread wings of a bat. Van's heart skipped a beat. It was the same symbol Feri had described.

Van's pulse quickened as he approached the box. His suspicions were all but confirmed. This was the hideout of the vampire Feri had warned him about. As he drew closer, his eyes caught sight of a small sign next to the coffin. The inscription sent a shiver down his spine:

"Nosferatu - Doesn't this word sound to you like the midnight call of a bird of the dead? Be careful to say it, otherwise the images of life will fade into shadows, spooky dreams will rise from your heart and feed on your blood."

Van's blood ran cold as he read the words. The pieces were falling into place, and it was clear that this place was more sinister than he had imagined. He reached out, his fingers brushing the cold surface of the coffin. A strange energy seemed to pulse beneath his touch, sending a chill through his bones.

"This is it," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

He began to circle the box, examining every angle. The design was unlike anything he had seen before—coffin-like, but without any visible lid or opening. The eerie absence of a way in only heightened his anxiety. As he studied the symbol again, a faint, metallic scent tickled his nose.

"Bergard," Van said, his eyes narrowing, "do you smell that?"

Bergard, who had been quietly observing Van, nodded, his sharp senses attuned to the same metallic scent that hung faintly in the air.

"I do," he murmured, his voice low and measured. "It's faint, but unmistakable. Something metallic... like iron, or—" His gaze darkened as he hesitated, then finished grimly, "Blood."

Van's expression mirrored Bergard's unease. The scent wasn't just a coincidence; it was a warning. "That's what I feared," he said gravely. "But it's not fresh. It's older. Stagnant."

He reached out again, letting his hand hover over the surface of the strange box. As his fingers brushed against the cold metal, a shiver ran through him. He could swear he felt a faint vibration, a low hum, almost like a pulse coming from within. Van pulled his hand back, his mind racing.

"There's something inside," he whispered, more to himself than to Bergard. The realization settled over him like a cold fog. What kind of monstrosity was entombed within this sealed coffin? The thought sent a chill down his spine.

He considered his next move, the urge to open the box battling with a gnawing sense of dread. The metallic smell, the faint vibrations—nothing about this was reassuring. He turned to Bergard, seeking his advice.

"What do you think?" Van asked, his voice tight with tension. "I want to open it, but it's not as simple as it looks. There must be some mechanism… maybe a hidden lever or a magical seal."

Bergard studied the box, his face a mask of concentration. "We should be careful," he said steadily. "Do you see any obvious signs? A handle, a switch, anything?"

Van shook his head, his frustration mounting as he scanned the box for clues. "No, nothing. It's like it's sealed shut. There has to be a way…"

He ran his hands over the surface, searching for any hidden mechanism. The box felt smooth, impenetrable, with no seams or cracks to suggest an entry point. Van let out a low growl of frustration.

"It's as if it's just a solid block of metal," he muttered. "Too perfect."

Bergard's eyes narrowed as he considered the situation. "What about the underside?" he suggested. "Have you checked there?"

Van blinked, realizing he had overlooked the obvious. "I should've thought of that," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Let's turn it over."

Together, they gripped the box and carefully flipped it. The weight surprised them, but with effort, they managed to set it down on its other side. Van knelt to examine the underside, running his fingers over the smooth metal. At first, it seemed identical to the rest, but then he felt it—a faint pattern, a recessed marking in the metal.

"Wait," Van breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's something here… a mark, or a symbol."

He traced the intricate pattern with his fingers, the lines cold and lifeless under his touch. It was an intricate, geometric design, sharp angles interlocking in a way that was almost alien.

"This looks like a magic seal," Bergard observed, his brow furrowed.

Van nodded, his thoughts racing. "You're right… but I don't recognize the pattern. It's… unusual." He studied the markings, trying to recall anything similar from his past encounters, but nothing came to mind. The design was too complex, too cryptic.

"This is perplexing," Van muttered, standing up and looking at Bergard with a mix of frustration and urgency. "I need to open this box. We need to know what's inside. But how? The seal is too complex to break or reverse. We need a key, a spell… something."

Bergard placed a reassuring hand on Van's shoulder. "We'll figure it out," he said calmly. "But we need to be cautious. We don't know what kind of power we're dealing with."

Van nodded, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. Bergard was right. Rushing could be fatal. But the uncertainty gnawed at him. What was hidden inside this box? What dark secret was Lord Kain keeping locked away?

As they deliberated, a sudden shift in the room's energy snapped them back to the present. The sun was dipping below the horizon, and the room was quickly filling with shadows. The air grew colder, heavier, as if something unseen was stirring.

Van's heart raced as his eyes darted around the room. The atmosphere had changed—something was coming to life, and it wasn't friendly. His gaze fell on the box as a soft creaking noise filled the silence. The lid was moving, slowly, ominously, opening on its own.

A sense of dread washed over Van as he braced himself for whatever horrors might emerge from the coffin. What kind of monstrosity was waiting inside? His mind raced with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.

As the coffin lid fully opened, the room was plunged into darkness. All Van could think was: This is it. Whatever's inside is about to be unleashed.

The coffin creaked open, revealing its mysterious contents to Van and Bergard. They both leaned in, their breath caught in their throats, but what they saw shocked them to their core. Inside lay a young man, almost a boy, with dark brown hair in an undercut and dressed entirely in black. His expression was serene, almost as if he were merely sleeping, but there was something unsettling about him—blood stained his lips and chin, a stark contrast to his peaceful appearance.

Van stared at the boy in stunned disbelief. He had expected to find a dangerous artifact or some ancient, cursed relic, but this... this was something entirely different. The sight of the sleeping figure, with blood staining his mouth, was both disturbing and incomprehensible.

"What in the world...?" Van whispered, barely able to form the words.

Bergard, standing beside him, was equally taken aback. The unexpected sight of the boy shook him, and he tried to piece together the implications. "This wasn't what I expected," he said slowly, his voice tense. "Who is this boy? And why is he in that coffin?"

Van could only shrug helplessly, his mind racing with questions. The sight of the boy in the coffin only deepened the mystery, but before he could voice any thoughts, the boy stirred. His eyelashes fluttered slightly, and Van's heart skipped a beat.

Both men tensed as the boy began to wake. A mix of curiosity and dread welled up inside Van. They had no idea who this boy was or what he was capable of. As his eyes opened, glowing crimson red, an eerie smile crept onto his lips, transforming his once peaceful face into something sinister.

The sight sent a chill down Van's spine. The boy's glowing red eyes and the unsettling smile on his bloodstained lips filled Van with a deep sense of foreboding. He took an involuntary step back, his heart racing faster. "Watch out," he whispered urgently to Bergard. "Something isn't right."

The boy's gaze shifted between Van and Bergard before his lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Oh… I see," he said, his voice smooth and unsettling. "You must be Van Arkride…"

Van's eyes widened. How did this boy know his name? He quickly masked his shock, trying to remain composed. "How do you know my name?" he demanded, keeping his voice steady despite the growing unease.

The boy's smile widened, revealing sharp, blood-drenched fangs. "Because René and Elaine told me so much about you."

Van's ears perked up at the mention of René and Elaine. He knew them well, and the fact that this boy had been talking to them about him set off alarm bells in his mind. "You know René and Elaine?" he asked, his tone cautious.

The boy chuckled, a dark, chilling sound. "Of course I do, Van. They taste delicious... But I suppose I should introduce myself."

Van's blood ran cold at the boy's words. The way he spoke of René and Elaine was both disturbing and ominous. But Van knew he needed to keep him talking, to figure out who—or what—this boy really was. "Who are you, then?" he asked, his voice firm.

The boy's eyes gleamed with malice as he replied, "I am Lord Kain."

Van's breath caught in his throat. Lord Kain? So he was the mysterious young nobleman from Erebonia, a figure shrouded in suspicion. "You're Lord Kain?" Van repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.

Lord Kain chuckled, his bloody fangs flashing in the dim light. "The one and only," he said with a sinister smirk. "The man, the myth, the legend."

The boy—no, Lord Kain—looked at Van and Bergard with a cold, calculating gaze. "And I suppose you already know what I am…" he said, his tone dripping with dark amusement.

Van and Bergard exchanged a grim look. The blood on Kain's lips, his glowing red eyes, his inhuman presence—it all pointed to one conclusion. "Yeah," Van said slowly. "We have a pretty good idea…"

Lord Kain's grin widened, his fangs glinting ominously. "I had hoped to keep my identity hidden a bit longer, but you Calvardians are quite perceptive, especially for your first time dealing with a Dead Apostle. Not that it will change anything about my grand plan."

Van's eyes narrowed. A Dead Apostle—? "What do you mean, 'grand plan'?" Van asked, his voice edged with suspicion. "What are you planning?"

Lord Kain's laugh was sharp and mocking. "Oh, you want to know?" he taunted. "Sorry, but that will remain a secret."

Frustration flared within Van as Lord Kain refused to reveal his intentions. He took a deep breath, struggling to keep his composure. "You can't just drop a bombshell like that and then refuse to explain yourself," he said, his voice tight with barely contained anger.

Suddenly, Kain's expression darkened. "Silence, blood bag!" he shouted, and with a swift wave of his hand, a powerful shockwave blasted Van and Bergard across the room.

They flew through the air, crashing hard against the stone wall. Pain shot through Van's body as he struggled to get back on his feet. "Damn… bastard…" he groaned, his vision swimming.

Lord Kain watched them with a smug, satisfied look, relishing their pain. "Weak… so weak…" he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Like cattle begging to be slaughtered."

Van clenched his teeth, swallowing his anger. He felt exposed, vulnerable, especially against a vampire as powerful as Kain. But he couldn't give up. He forced himself to stand, wincing at the pain but refusing to show weakness.

Lord Kain chuckled at the sight of Van rising. "Look at you, so determined," he mocked, his tone filled with cruel amusement. "Like a lamb trying to stand up to a lion."

Van gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand tall despite the pain. He could feel the adrenaline surging through his veins, sharpening his senses and pushing back the exhaustion. "I'm no lamb," he retorted, his voice tight with defiance. "And I'm not going down without a fight."

Lord Kain scoffed, his disdain palpable. In an instant, he vanished, only to reappear right in front of Van, his cold hand wrapping around Van's throat and lifting him off the ground with unnatural strength.

Van gasped, caught off guard by Kain's speed. His hands flew to Kain's wrist, trying to pry himself free, but the vampire's grip was unyielding, like iron around his throat. Kain's eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure as he leaned in, his fangs bared. "You need to learn your place, boy," he hissed.

Van's mind raced as he fought against the crushing pressure on his neck. He wasn't going to die like this—not without a fight. Summoning every ounce of his strength, Van slammed his knee into Kain's side, aiming for the ribs. The impact was enough to make Kain falter, loosening his grip just slightly.

Seizing the moment, Van twisted his body and drove an elbow into Kain's arm, breaking free and dropping to the ground. He landed on his feet, staggering back but refusing to let the pain slow him down.

"You're going to regret that," Van growled, glaring at Kain. But before he could mount another attack, Kain's hand shot out again, faster than Van could react, gripping his shoulder like a vise.

With a cruel grin, Kain sank his fangs into Van's flesh, piercing deep into his shoulder. The pain was excruciating, white-hot and searing through his entire body. Van gritted his teeth, refusing to scream, but the sensation of his blood being drained was overwhelming.

His vision blurred as Kain continued to drink, and Van's strength began to ebb away, the dizziness and weakness taking hold. But Van wasn't one to give up easily. He reached for his belt and grabbed a knife, plunging it into Kain's side.

Kain snarled in pain, ripping his fangs from Van's shoulder and throwing him across the room in a fit of rage. Van hit the ground hard, skidding across the cold stone floor. He groaned, barely able to move, his body screaming in pain. His vision dimmed, but he forced himself to stay conscious.

Bergard rushed over, catching Van just before he collapsed completely. "Hang on," Bergard muttered, his voice tense with worry as he helped Van to sit up against the wall.

Lord Kain sneered, his gaze filled with contempt. "Take him and go, old man. Consider this mercy. Next time, you won't be so lucky."

Bergard glared at Kain, but kept silent, focusing on Van. He knew they had no chance of winning in their current state. For now, retreat was the only option. Van, despite his injuries, managed to push himself up, refusing to show any more weakness in front of the arrogant vampire.

Kain chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Run along now," he taunted, giving them a mocking bow. "And remember, you're leaving with your lives only because I allow it."

Van shot a defiant glance at Kain, his hatred barely masked as he and Bergard made their way toward the exit. Each step was agony, his shoulder burning, but he kept moving, refusing to let Kain see how much he'd been hurt.

Kain's smile was chilling, almost childlike as he waved them off. "Until next time," he called out, his voice dripping with malice. Van clenched his jaw, his resolve hardening. There would be a next time, and when it came, they would be ready.

Outside, they finally reached their van, the harsh reality of their defeat settling in. Blood seeped through Van's clothes, his body trembling from the pain and blood loss. Bergard helped him into the passenger seat, his concern evident.

"You need medical attention," Bergard said bluntly, his eyes narrowing as he assessed Van's condition.

"I'll be fine," Van muttered, though his voice was strained. "I've had worse."

Bergard shook his head, knowing Van was putting up a front. He grabbed the first aid kit from the back and returned to Van's side, carefully cleaning and bandaging the wound. Van winced but remained silent, his pride preventing him from admitting just how bad off he was.

"You're as stubborn as a mule, you know that?" Bergard said, his tone a mix of frustration and concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Van grumbled, trying to downplay the situation. But the truth was, he could feel his strength waning, the blood loss and the encounter with Kain taking a toll on him.

Bergard finished bandaging Van's shoulder, his expression stern. "Don't push yourself too hard. You need to rest and let your body recover, especially after losing so much blood."

Van sighed, knowing Bergard was right. "Fine, I'll rest," he conceded reluctantly. He hated feeling weak, but he had to admit he was in no condition to do anything else. At least for now.

As they drove away from the Vantaille District, both men were silent, lost in their thoughts. They knew they had to regroup, to get stronger, and to come back with reinforcements. Next time, Lord Kain wouldn't have the upper hand.