Chapter 28

◈ Chapter 28 – Do You Know Vampires?

"Oscar, Special Forces Dedicated Technical Advisor. That's what the sign above your forge will read. Your business expands, your market connections grow. And naturally, the power follows..."

"I said no!"

Oscar let out a sigh and ran a hand through his graying hair, messing it up.

"I told you I'm not going. That's final."

"Fine. Your call. But hey—if you start crafting weapons for the Special Forces, wouldn't Marjelo end up using them too? The publicity alone would be worth..."

"Alright, alright. Drop it."

"Yeah. I'll stop."

He'd almost caved. Almost.

"Mago, what about me?"

Kinzo thrust his face forward.

"You're skipping me. Didn't Captain Simena promise me anything? You must've mentioned me."

He wasn't wrong.

I'd said that Kinzo, with his Clairvoyance Magic, would be a massive asset.

But promised? No.

I cracked a grin.

"Nothing special, really."

"What? Why am I the only one left out?"

---

Moonlight glinted off silver hair.

She swept the irritating strands back.

"Hah. Hmph."

Her other hand clamped around an ankle.

Like dragging a burlap sack, she hauled the man by his foot across the ground. His back scraped against the dirt, but he couldn't fight back.

"Get up."

She wasn't talking to the captive.

With a single word, she resurrected the green monsters that had fallen on the hillside.

They stirred, broken and mangled, lurching upright. An orc—just a head remaining—blinked its eyes.

Silver Hair kicked the head over with her boot.

Faces marked like brands. Scattered across every patch of skin.

[Imperial Army 1st Training Center 66th Class] [Trainee No. 71] [Mago]

Imprints from a dog tag.

"Mago..."

She addressed the man whose ankle she held captive.

"Where is he now?"

The man only shook his head.

"If you don't know, who does?"

She crouched, meeting his eyes.

"You're the Head Instructor."

The Head Instructor shook his head harder.

"No? You're saying you're not the Head Instructor?"

"I am—"

"Then I don't need you."

Her greatsword punched through his heart.

---

"Nice to meet you. First time seeing each other, and I've got plenty to say—but there's no time for that."

The Special Forces soldier cranked his neck from the driver's seat of the wagon, staring back at us.

Back in the passenger cabin.

We sat there, hastily dragged from the Red Family estate.

"What the hell's going on..."

Kinzo muttered, his face blank.

"Just like we said—the training center was attacked. By a single person."

A single person.

I'd heard that phrase before.

In my past life, before I ever met that silver-haired Ghost King.

The same words had been spoken back then:

That the Demon King's army also had a single woman like Marjelo Arnis.

"The Head Instructor is dead."

Those words sent a ripple through the entire group.

"No other casualties, but there are too many inconsistencies. You lot know the training center best, so even though it's your break, we're asking for your cooperation."

"What inconsistencies?"

I asked.

"All the corpses are gone. The monster bodies. We were in the middle of cleanup, but they couldn't all have vanished at once."

The soldier stared straight into my eyes.

"A single strand of hair was found inside the Head Instructor's mouth. Silver."

So it really was her.

"Silver hair. If anything comes to mind, let us know later. We're launching the investigation immediately."

A short while later, another wagon caught up to us.

It quickly overtook the one we were riding in.

"Mago!"

"El!"

"I built it just like the blueprint, so it came out fast...! Take it!"

She hurled an angular case in my direction.

I stood up and caught it with perfect timing.

"And, Bell! Don't overdo it! Take care of yourself!"

The wagon pulled away.

The case was exactly sized for a single sword.

I opened it with both hands.

A red sword.

Cruciform in shape.

Almost like a narrow coffin.

The scabbard was decorated with ornate embossed patterns.

But, as per my request—

Every sharp, protruding edge had been removed.

I lifted the sword horizontally and tried to slide it from the sheath.

Clunk. Something caught.

No matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn't come free.

That was by design.

The scabbard and the hilt had been welded together.

The blade existed only to give it proper weight, but it was a sword you could never draw.

A blunt instrument too embarrassing to even call a sword.

---

The Head Instructor's body lay draped in white cloth.

"May I take a look?"

I asked.

The Special Forces soldier who'd led us here answered with a nod.

I closed my eyes, gave a brief bow, then pulled back the cloth.

The Head Instructor—always red-faced and shouting—was now cold and still.

I examined the wound immediately.

A stab wound.

The heart had been pierced clean through.

That deep, gaping wound in his chest could only have come from a greatsword.

Killed by the silver-haired Ghost King's blade.

Instant death, I was sure of it.

Unless she'd been in the mood to toy with him.

No other peculiarities stood out beyond the stab wound.

It was time to let him rest.

"Thank you, Instructor."

I draped the cloth over him.

"Mago—anything come to mind?"

The soldier asked.

"I need time to think."

614.

In my past life, the Ghost King hadn't shown herself until seven years from now.

But that was merely when she first appeared.

She'd been moving in the shadows the entire time.

607. First Training Center.

The incident where all the monster corpses vanished overnight.

Back then, no one ever uncovered the truth.

It was buried.

Just like the Head Instructor, now hidden under that white cloth.

Even I wouldn't have caught on if I hadn't met the Ghost King in my previous life.

"But back then, the Head Instructor didn't die."

The variables.

Over eight months at the First Training Center, countless things had happened.

So much had changed.

Especially after the Second Invasion.

Every single trainee of the 66th Class survived.

Maybe that had rubbed the Ghost King the wrong way.

Unlike my past life, she'd killed the Head Instructor.

Which meant she'd left more traces than before.

We moved to the back hill.

Drag marks marked the ground where the Head Instructor had been hauled along.

Just as we'd heard—every monster corpse stored on the hill had vanished.

Only footprints and drag trails remained.

Either the bodies had risen as Undead and walked off on their own.

Or they'd rolled away.

Knowing the Ghost King and her necromancy, it all clicked into place.

It felt like I could see the whole scene play out.

But I was the only one.

My comrades could only shake their heads.

The Ghost King's existence.

The fact she was the sole Necromancer.

That one person, impossibly strong.

Only I knew.

"I never saw any silver hair at the training center."

Kinzo rested his chin on his hand.

"I did see white hair, though—close to silver."

He turned to look at me.

"It wasn't me."

"I know. I just wanted to know what you were thinking. Besides, that silver hair was really long, right? But before talking about hair, we should focus on the fact that the corpses vanished."

Kinzo started piecing things together.

"Silver Hair. Let's call the culprit Silver Hair. There's no way she moved all those bodies alone—there aren't any traces to suggest it. If anything, the sheer number of footprints is strange. It's like the bodies just got up and walked away..."

"Does that even make sense?"

Bell cut in.

"No, it doesn't. Bringing the dead back to life—that's divine territory."

"Then what do you think happened?"

"I think Silver Hair staged it. I don't know how exactly. But one person—Silver Hair—moved them all and tampered with the scene to make it look like they walked on their own."

That's when Amon interrupted.

"Kinzo, there's no reason for that. Silver Hair doesn't gain anything by making it look that way."

"You're right... Amon, that's true. Even if she staged it, there's no clear motive. If we at least knew who Silver Hair is, we could figure out why."

"The entire Moonlight family has silver hair."

Bell tossed that out.

At that, my comrades chimed in one by one.

"That's right...! She could be one of them."

"But why would the Moonlight family get involved? They have nothing to do with the training center."

"You can't be so sure about that. There could be something we don't know."

Then—

"Just."

It was Oscar, who had been silent until now.

"Couldn't she just be an old person?"

At that, we all turned to look at him.

Pinned him with our stares, you could say.

Another round of bickering broke out.

"No, no. If she were old, her hair would be white."

"Then is Mago an old person, too?"

"His hair is more silver than white, honestly."

"If you assume she's old, you'll never find the real culprit..."

In the middle of all that chaos—

"Yeah, Oscar. That's it."

I said it with absolute conviction.

"Mago?"

No one knew anything about the Ghost King anyway.

They knew nothing about Necromancers or Necromancy Magic.

Pointing at the Ghost King with the flimsy, abstract clues we had now?

Absolutely impossible.

I'd just look like a lunatic.

"An old person might actually make sense."

So I changed direction.

All I could do was redirect the arrow.

Toward one of the Demon King Army officers I'd planned to hunt right after graduating from the training center.

The Vampire Lord.

"Why do you think that?"

The Special Forces soldier, who had been standing with arms crossed, finally spoke up.

"Do you know vampires?"

It was a bombshell.

Dropped out of nowhere.

Every eye that had been fixed on Oscar swung to me.

"Vampires? Yeah, I've heard of them."

"Oscar mentioned an old person, and it got me thinking. Will you hear me out?"

The soldier and my comrades nodded.

"First, let's talk about vampire traits."

This was a con from here on out.

Step one.

I raised my index finger.

"First—they can transform into bat-like creatures."

I forced every clue to fit the vampire mold.

Pinning the crime on beings who had nothing to do with it.

And I needed a solid foundation for my claims.

"Assume they came to the training center in bat form. That explains how all the corpses vanished at once."

"Huh?"

The soldier tilted his head, unconvinced.

"It wasn't one person. The one who killed the Head Instructor was that silver-haired woman—yes. But a swarm of vampires flew in and landed on the back hill. Then—"

"When they left, they shifted back to human form, grabbed the bodies, and walked out. That would explain the footprints and drag marks."

Kinzo finished my thought.

"Exactly, Kinzo. Second—they can't move during the day. Vampires melt in sunlight. That matches the timeline of the Head Instructor's death."

Right after that, third.

"Third—they drink blood. That could be why they took the corpses. To consume them. It was a food run, as far as I can see. The Head Instructor was just in the way."

"Bad luck, he died?"

"Sadly, yes."

I paused for breath.

"If we assume there were multiple perpetrators... that also means multiple vampires were hiding among humans, passing as ordinary people. They were probably staying together in one place. Somewhere spacious. Somewhere sunlight doesn't reach. A building. A large one."

"Mago, you're saying underground?"

Amon asked.

"No, I think differently. Second trait—immobility during daylight. Not just places sunlight avoids, but places that are simply inactive during the day. And finally... what Oscar said. That silver-haired woman could be old."

Three ways to narrow the search.

"A large building. A place with an old person. A place that's dormant during the day."

Three words were enough.

"Where's that?"

"A place that fits all three conditions. I'm thinking a tavern. The easiest place to blend in."

"Hmm... a tavern..."

The soldier nodded slowly.

It would all seem to fit together.

Because I'd forced it to fit.

"Old people don't frequent taverns that only thrive at night—so not customers, but the owner. A tavern whose owner is old."

I raised the sword El had given me.

The cruciform blade.

"I'll look into it myself."

One more vampire trait:

The cross is their weakness.

The Ghost King had just given momentum to my plan to take down the Demon King Army's officers one by one.

Leaving traces was her mistake, considering information was my weapon.

"She basically handed me a chance to strike back."

She'd never guess that her actions would get someone else hit instead.