Chapter 84: Howls in the Night

The last traces of sunset had faded in the distance, and the train pressed onward through the dusky wilderness. In one of the foremost carriages, the conductor sat by the window, dozing off under the dim glow of an oil lamp. The Gospel of Holy Light in his hands had not been turned for quite some time.

Mulan and Hendel had already left the rearmost carriage and were making their way forward. They had searched through the luggage and sundries at the back but found no sign of a coffin.

In Mulan’s eyes, the state of this vampire was now quite clear—he was certainly not one of those powerful enough to be truly unafraid of sunlight. It was more likely he had not fully transformed into a vampire; the daylight was uncomfortable but not utterly intolerable.

Nonetheless, his preferences were evident. Under normal circumstances, such a being would not board or disembark in broad daylight.

“Professor, you’re saying he isn’t particularly strong?” Hendel’s nerves were taut throughout, his hand always resting on the grip of his pistol concealed in his coat. Mulan, supporting himself with his cane, led the way; they had reached their destination.

“That’s right. Vampires come in different varieties. The most formidable among them are the extraordinary beings who walk the path of the Blood of the Other. Historical records and research suggest they are the true progenitors of the vampire line. The Black List of the Sanctum includes two such extraordinary figures, described as Nobles of the Night, at the very least sixth tier, or even seventh.”

Mulan’s tone was light, almost smiling, as he glanced back at Hendel.

“As for this one, he appears to be a mere Blooded—his development is slow, and at most, he’s a second-tier Bloodthirster now. Still, we must not underestimate him.”

Hendel felt his tension greatly eased by Mulan’s relaxed smile. His body loosened; it was better for a sudden burst of action, though he couldn’t help but ask further.

“But we can’t even see him?”

Most students at Black Castle were still in the knowledge-acquisition phase at this stage; few had begun to study specialized professions without first discovering their own aptitudes. Information about many paths was tightly restricted—only a select few had access. Thus, Hendel knew of vampires but had only scant details.

Mulan nodded, lowering his voice.

“Yes, but it’s not always so. That state you saw before is his ability—not his true body, but the will of his blood, which has already been scorched by my radiant power. His real body is hidden among the passengers; he wouldn’t dare reveal himself.”

As he spoke, the two of them reached the foremost carriage. Beyond was the coal car and the engine. There was a passage door here, closed. Mulan knocked a few times, then opened it and stepped inside.

A uniformed trainman rose from his seat, while the conductor remained half-asleep.

“Sorry, passengers are not allowed here. If you need anything, please state your business and then leave.”

“Conductor, ladies and gentlemen, I require your assistance.” Mulan did not elaborate but walked straight to the still-drowsing conductor, produced his letter of appointment from his breast pocket, bearing the seals of Black Castle, the kingdom, and the private seal and signature of the Queen.

“I am a recipient of the Violet Knight’s Medal, Grand Knight of the Empire, Guardian Knight to Her Majesty, and Baron Mulan Jonest. From now on, you will follow my instructions.”

The conductor instantly shook off his sleepiness, rubbed his eyes, and sat up, scrutinizing the parchment and then Mulan himself.

He couldn’t tell the authenticity of the document, but Baron of the Empire aside, those other titles were not trivial—who would dare impersonate such a figure?

“My lord Jonest, how may we serve you? Please give your orders!”

The conductor chose to believe him without hesitation. Mulan put away the parchment and surveyed the carriage.

“Wake those who are asleep. First, we must find the owner of a piece of cargo in the rear carriage. Moreover, a lady in one of the rear carriages has been attacked; we need to find the culprit. He is surely hidden among the passengers and may be armed and dangerous. Please follow my instructions precisely…”

Mulan gave brief instructions and the group left the carriage in turn, setting to work across the train.

Several conductors began checking tickets—a standard procedure. There were always fare-dodgers, and ticket checks were due in half an hour anyway; this was merely an early start.

Inspectors were to focus on passengers who had boarded or were set to disembark during the night or just before sunrise—men, faces likely pale, with lips that might appear rather bright.

The conductors did not understand why they had not yet caught the culprit, nor how Lord Jonest described his features so accurately. Nonetheless, they were told to follow orders: do not disturb any suspicious target, simply take note and report to Mulan.

The conductor, another officer with medical knowledge, and the lady train attendant accompanied Hendel to the rear carriages. They hurried through, with Hendel feigning concern as he explained the situation to the female conductor.

“That lady’s having trouble breathing and looks pale—quickly, up ahead.”

Mulan followed the second group, halting when he reached the middle carriages. He stood between two carriages, cane tapping the floor, and took a delicate silver box from his pocket. From it, he drew a cigarette, placing it between his lips—unlit, a gesture of casual ease.

Mulan could sense the vampire’s wariness; he had no intention of revealing himself for a fight.

He could have simply continued his own business, sent word to Black Castle or the DiGao Palace, and left it at that. Yet the faint hunger gnawing at his soul made him want to deal with this vampire personally.

The windows on either side of the corridor were open a crack, and the wind tossed Mulan’s hair. Beneath his calm exterior, he was not so serene; in fact, he was somewhat exhilarated—a thirst for excitement had awakened within him.

‘Let me guess where you are, little bat!’

A conductor reached a group of dozing passengers and gently shook the one nearest the aisle.

“Excuse me, may I see your ticket? We’re starting the inspection now. The rest of you, please have your tickets ready.”

The roused passenger, annoyed but compliant, produced his ticket. The others, hearing this, sat up and began searching for theirs.

“May I see your ticket, sir?”
“And yours, please.”

With the inspection underway, the once-quiet carriage became lively again—some stretching, some nibbling on sandwiches while digging in their pockets, others chatting.

The conductors were somewhat tense, unsure where the culprit lurked, but having dealt with all sorts, ticket-checking was second nature and they kept their composure.

In another carriage, two conductors worked together.

“Oh, sir, the King’s Station is already past. If you’re headed to DiGao, you’ve missed your stop. If your destination is further on, this ticket is insufficient. Either way, you’ll need to pay the difference.”

He spoke patiently, while his colleague scanned the compartment, watching for the features Mulan had described. Those who fit the profile would be closely checked.

A wolf’s howl echoed across the wilderness, drawing the gaze of passengers and conductors alike. Mulan, in the middle carriage, also turned toward the sound, went to the window, and gazed up at the night sky. The sinister moon was absent, but a bright, full moon hung high.

Mulan frowned, stepped to the other side, and looked toward the woods. Narrowing his eyes, he saw several dark shapes racing along the mountainside, in pursuit of the train.

In a forward carriage, a gentleman wearing a bowler hat handed his ticket to the inspector with a smile, his gaze flickering toward the middle of the train, knowing the swordsman stood there even if he couldn’t see him from this angle.

“Heh, heh, heh. As I said—this is my domain!”

The inspector, beside the gentleman, checked the ticket: Lumbarru to Newgate, boarding before dawn and due to alight before sunrise. The man’s pale face and hands were visible beneath the brim of his hat, and though his lips were not as vivid as if painted, they were still striking.

“Thank you, sir. Your ticket’s in order.”

The conductor’s heart pounded, but he returned the ticket politely. As the passenger took it, their hands brushed, and the man looked up at him.

“Your heart’s beating fast.”

“Uh?” The conductor started, hastily patting his brow and covering the cold sweat, muttering, “Ah, don’t mention it. I’ve been on shift since day before yesterday, no rest at all, always the night shift. Lately my heart’s been racing—you know how it is, too many nights without sleep. Ah, never mind, this run’s almost over and then I’ll finally have leave.”

The passenger smiled. “You’ve worked hard.”

“What can I do? No work, no pay—even if the pay isn’t much.” The conductor complained again, then turned to the next passenger.

“Hello, may I see your ticket?”

Outside, the racing shadows burst from the forest, drawing closer to the train. Passengers began to notice and cried out in alarm.

“Look! What are those outside?” “Are those wolves?”

“Oh, heavens!” “They’re chasing the train!”

“Oh no, by the Holy Light—will they try to board?”

More and more people spotted the silhouettes and panic spread. The train filled with commotion.

Bang—

A gunshot rang out, silencing the uproar in an instant. Standing at the center of the train, Mulan raised his silver revolver, a wisp of smoke curling from its barrel.