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@blanchette : ‘ perhaps you might show mercy freely. ’ | x
𝐃 𝐖𝚨𝐒 𝚴𝐎𝐓 𝐔𝚴𝐅𝚨𝚳𝚰𝐋𝚰𝚨𝐑 𝐖𝚰𝐓𝚮 𝐓𝚮𝚬 𝚨𝐂𝐓 of granting mercy, even if he wasn’t one to shy away from killing without remorse. It was... a delicate balance to maintain, and one that he was hesitant to disrupt in such places where he was little more than a trespasser. Even in the Frontier, he never drew his sword when it wasn’t necessary.
Though he didn’t answer immediately, D did consider her words. Mercifully, the hand, too, was silent. His only reaction was obstructed near-completely by his cloak—the storing of the wooden stakes he’d slipped forth from their strap. Rarely did he hesitate to retaliate when attacked, but the dhampir reminded himself that he was the trespasser in their territory, their world.
A cold, gentle gaze turned then to her. She was no vampire, of that he was largely certain, yet the splendor of her garb no doubt colored her a person of importance, if the myriad guards stood between her and D wasn’t enough to fuel the deduction. A noble, princess, queen? The hunter straightened, relaxing... and lifted his boot from the human pinned at the chest beneath it. A stranger, an intruder, and she spoke of mercy? Inaudibly came the low muttering of a voice from D’s hip, for once seeming to mind his volume appropriately.
“𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭... 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳? 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸.”
#|| 𝐒𝚬𝐂𝐎𝚴𝐃𝚨𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝚬𝐑𝐒𝚬 — 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝛐𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 ( 2 )#|| 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐎 — 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ��𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝛐𝐟 𝐲𝛐𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 [ asks ]#blanchette#Look... it's taking everything in my power#Not to pump this doofus full of Bacillus and make him some kind of fucked up Krusnik but he's already messed up enough lol#Just imagining Esther trying to have her afternoon tea and all of a sudden this jerk just appears in her courtyard. Poor girl
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ROM 6 - Chapter 1 Part IV (english translation)
Translator: Roven, Editing: Lamy
Trinity Blood (by Sunao Yoshida) ROM 6 - Chapter 1 - Link for Part I - Link for Part II - Link for Part III -
Part IV
—Isaak, do you think Esther liked our gift? —I don’t know, mein Herr," —-Panzer Magier replied respectfully to the voice coming from the microphone of the regeneration tank.
All the newspapers were spread out on the table so that the creature in the tank could see them immediately as soon as it came out. —In my opinion Miss Blanchett is very afraid of power. Being a princess besides Saint... I wonder if it’s not too much burden for her.
—No, Isaak. My gift wasn’t to make her a princess, but to make her a queen... Maybe already tomorrow.
The Ritz Hotel was the most luxurious building on Piccadilly Street. Entire Londinium could be seen from the suite. It was so big that a whole house could fit in. In the middle of the vast space was a strange object: a water tank made of glass, measuring about two meters in diameter. The room, which costs ten thousand dinars a night, had seen all kinds of exotic pets like crocodiles or leopards. But what could be in that water tank surrounded by complex machines and control panels that resembled the cockpit of an airplane. Innumerable pipes came out of it and gave off a smelly vapor. The strangest thing of all, however, was the content. The shiny black liquid looking like coal tar didn’t seem to contain any living thing. However, the innocent voice came without any doubt from the inside.
—Esther Blanchett... I've spent so many moments with her and she's helped my brother so much... The least I could do for Esther was this.
—Actually... Speaking of your brother, mein Herr, what do we do with Mr. Abel? I'm afraid there's no way to save him.
—Ah, Abel! He died, the poor thing. He never had luck in life. One misfortune after another. What a pity…
—Well, it didn’t seem like it has cost you much to kill him...—the man in black pointed it out coldly. — I was surprised you reacted like that. After so many centuries without seeing him, I expected you to have a lot to talk about with him...
—It’s that Abel scared me; He suddenly became furious. From what you told me, I thought that he has matured a little, but apparently nothing has changed.
The voice lowered as he laughed.
—But that is not important. The important thing now is to recover my brother's body. At least it will help us to solve this very heavy problem.
—You're right. But there is still the question of how to transport the body, —the man replied, carefully watching the pressure controller while rubbing the glass with his hand.
Turning to the mail accumulated on the table, Panzer Magier added in a worried voice:
—In addition, we have his comrades. I don’t think they're going to let us take his body so easily.
—Oh, sure! Surely they also value Abel a lot. Well, it's a problem... You can be recognized and I won’t be able to move for a while. What about the others?
—Neither Reißzahn nor the Red Baroness could. I can’t imagine anybody would be able to infiltrate through the security measures and get to 02, apart from you, only two people could: your brother and your sister.
— So I'll have to go... But I still can’t go out...
—Exactly you have twelve hours, eight minutes and twenty-eight seconds. That means that tomorrow, just before the sun rises, you can get out of the tank.
—Twelve hours? If we wait so long, the Vatican will take Abel to Rome. Now that’s a problem. What shall we do?
The voice hummed absently through his nose. With a serious tone that contrasted with the indolence of his lord, Panzer Magier proposed:
—What do you think about this idea? Tonight I will do my best to win as much time as I can. I will not allow your brother's corpse to leave the city. So, when you are healthy again, you can go and look for it yourself.
—Gain time? Do you have something in mind?
—Indeed. Yesterday I found something interesting in the underground.
Panzer Magier then showed one of the briefcases he has collected the day before. If Vanessa has seen it, she would have realized that it was from one of the four mummies that had disappeared trying to recover the lost technologies.
—Of course, I don’t have here all the pieces I need, but I've been thinking of someone who could serve me... If it goes well, my lord will have time to recover quietly and your brother's body will not move from here.
—Ah, okay. I count on you, Isaak... By the way, I want to ask you something important.
—What is it?
Panzer Magier respectfully lifted his face, shaking his hair. However, the voice didn’t show any trace of seriousness and said, as if talking about time:
—Tomorrow for breakfast I want fish and chips... With a lot of vinegar and salt.
***
Following the River Thames about ten kilometers in its downstream to the North Sea one could reach Greenwich, the city that served as the base of the Royal Navy.
The campus of the naval school was surrounded by the riverbank and on its docks was the fleet of Albion, one of the most powerful in the world. In addition, it had shipyards, dams, arsenals and all kinds of facilities necessary for the Navy built next to each other like a steel wall facing the river.
The hill at the south of the city, however, was a much quieter place. At the top there was a brick building topped with a white cupola and surrounded by rows of delicately arranged trees and innumerable rows of tombstones.
Before the Armageddon it was the headquarters of an astronomical observatory but later it had become the cemetery of the Royal Navy.
There rested eternally from the anonymous sailors killed in combat to the most famous admirals. The old observatory had been converted into a church, and its priest used to celebrate masses in it for the souls of the deceased. The cemetery received visitors every day from all social classes who came to leave flowers there. The rows of adorned cars and carriages with aristocratic emblems were never lacking in the parking area.
—I'm sorry I took so long.
The huge car that was parking this afternoon in one of the corners of the parking area looked like that of some nobleman who was visiting the cemetery.
The black sedan had shaded windows. The car of exaggeratedly stylized lines didn’t carry any sign of manufacturer or affiliation, but at first glance it could be seen that it was an exclusive and quite expensive vehicle. A middle-aged gentleman walked to it. He seemed to be the owner, besides he opened the door and threw a pile of documents on the passenger seat.
—I had to dig through dozens of files. Besides, I haven’t been able to get away from having a tea with the priest, and that caused me to waste even more time... I‘m very sorry for having kept you here for a while, milady.
—But what’s all this about?!
The dark glass made the interior of the car remain in the gloom, but the voice that came out of the back seat was even darker and colder.
The blond-haired girl slid away to avoid the setting sun that entered the car and stared severely at the knight with her eyes of steel.
—Answer me, come on! What does this all mean!?
—All this? It's what I was telling you, the documents...
—Fuck! That's not what I'm asking you! The young girl screamed as the gentleman started the car. Why does a Vatican priest save a methuselah!? What are your true intentions!?
—Not that I expect any reward, but you could be a little less aggressive with the one who saved your life ...—answered William Wordsworth, driving with an expert hand while lighting the pipe. — Besides, I wouldn’t know what reason to give you either. Helping a lady at need is a natural thing for a gentleman, don’t you think?
—A lady!?I!? Stop telling bullshit, old man!
Listening to her allegedly deadly enemy Vanessa Walsh choked on the words for a moment but then reacted by turning red with anger and drawing her claws. If the car hadn’t been already going at a considerable high speed, there was no doubt that she would have decapitated the priest right there.
—A dog of the Vatican saving a methuselah..., or should I say, a monster, as you say... Surely you have some hidden intention! Do you think I'm going to swallow that bullshit of chivalry!?
—A monster?
The gentleman seemed not to notice the anger of his passenger. As if he had forgotten that he was carrying a medusa in the car, he answered calmly:
—I found you fallen next to the Saint. At that time I didn’t know you are a vampire... We were in full operation and there was no time to notice those things.
—Don’t fuck with me, old man…
Vanessa lowered her tone, but not because Professor's explanations convinced her. With the claws on the back of the seat she was looking for the exact entry point to tear out his heart with her claws.
—I don’t have time to listen to the stories of an old cunt. Tell me now! Why have you saved me!? What are you up to!? Do you want to use me as a hostage to negotiate with my brother!? In that case I'm sorry to tell you that Virgil is incorruptible for something like that. He will never endanger the clan, not even for his own sister.
—I know that without you telling me. Also, negotiating with your brother is impossible right now.
As the car was twisting on the winding road, the Professor lowered the tinted glass. The first stars had begun to appear in the sky and the sun was only a pale reflection on the horizon. Looking westward with a weary expression, the priest explained:
—The Earl of Manchester was captured last night by the men of Colonel Spencer and has been locked in the Tower of London. To speak with him, I need the direct permission of the colonel.
— They ca…, they caught Virgil!?
Vanessa was astonished for a moment but then looking at the reflection of the gentleman in the rearview mirror she exploded, bringing her hand to the door:
—Shit! Why didn’t you tell me before!? I have to do something about it!
—Wait. The sun hasn’t set yet. And what would you plan to do all of a sudden, my lady?—said the priest, calmly, seeing the methuselah ready to jump out of the moving car.
—You should know, as a Londoner, that the Tower is impregnable. Even if you are a methuselah, it will not be easy for you to enter without being discovered. In addition, your brother will be under particularly severe surveillance. Going foolish and crazy now won’t do any good... Oh, and I'm telling you in advance: taking me hostage is just a waste of time.
The priest spoke in a slow but implacable voice to the girl, who threatened him with her sharp claws. As if he were a teacher entrusting duties to an awkward student, he added:
—But you can be calm, because the colonel isn’t planning to kill your brother immediately. In fact, right now your city, the ..., the ghetto, is that how you call it? The ghetto is completely blocked. Military engineers have tried all kinds of measures, but they are unable to enter. That's why they have your brother, to give them the information they need... If we don’t get nervous, we still have time to save him.
—We have? —Vanessa repeated, with a distrustful voice. —What do you mean by “we”!? What do you mean!?
—I wonder if you really listen to what you are told. Haven't you heard me? You need the Colonel's permission to enter the Tower. You will never succeed in saving your brother by yourself. That's why we're going to...
—That's not what I'm asking you! Why have you saved me!? I am a methuselah, a vampire, and you are a priest of the Vatican. Why have you saved me!?
—Hmmm, it’s not easy to answer that question. But if you insist in wanting me to give you an answer... It will be... an attack of sentimentality? —Replied the Professor, biting his pipe with his eyes closed without changing his poker face.
—Last night I lost an old friend. Let's say I didn’t want to see anyone else die even if it was... well, even if it were you. I know it's not a very logical answer, but I'm afraid it's the truth.
—You're an idiot, though?! Vanessa replied immediately.
An attack of sentimentality? As if that were enough for a Vatican priest to save the life of a monster!
—
Do you think I'm going to swallow that for something like this a Vatican priest is willing to save us!? Stop talking nonsense and tell me the truth! Are you trying to trick me into telling you how to open the ghetto!? Or is it that you are planning something else...!? Spill it out! Whatever it is!
—Let’s see, I would like to be able to speak frankly, but... —the Professor answered with a smile, as if he wouldn’t worry about the terrifying fact that his interlocutor has sharp fangs. —The truth is that I understand it’s suspicious for you that I helped you, since I am a priest. But well..., since I have saved your life, can’t you trust me a little?
—Ja! What you want is to catch me off guard, dirty terran! —Vanessa retorted obstinately at the paternal tone of the Professor, although this time her voice sounded sad. —We have lived with the terrans for centuries. In exchange for the protection of the queen, we offered our science; in exchange for the blood of the poor, we gave them money and medicines. If someone had an illness in the shacks, we were going to cure him. The people loved us more than the aristocrats or the Church, who did nothing but empty speeches. We had lived together so well for so long... And now this! At the minimum they blame us for everything! The same ones who had received our help come to chase us with the yell «death to the bloodsuckers»! How do you expect me to trust you!?
—You have reason enough not to trust…
The Professor waited for the girl to finish her speech before intervening calmly:
—I understand your anger perfectly, Miss Walsh. It is undeniable that the Kingdom of Albion and its people have sinned ungrateful... but it doesn’t mean that we are all traitors.
Framed in the rearview mirror the Professor's face showed a strange emotion. His voice was serene but from his tone it almost seemed that he spoke from his own experience.
—Many times people let themselves be carried away by the environment. It is true that right now your relationship with the kingdom is difficult, but you shouldn’t hate all its people because of it. Sometimes it may seem that the ones that shout the most are speaking on behalf of the whole group, but that’s not always the case. Most people simply get carried away. Don’t lose hope in the human race so quickly.
—Did something happen to you, old man? —Vanessa asked, with a strange face. —Are you feeling bad? Do you have a fever?
—The truth is that you could have been a little more polite, Miss Walsh. Even I have my moments of ... Eh?
The methuselah didn’t hear what the patient Professor wanted to explain to her, because an alarm signal went on in the glove compartment. It was followed by a female voice.
—Do you hear me, Dr. Wordsworth? Iron Maiden II is speaking. Respond, please.
—One moment, Miss Walsh. My colleagues are calling me... Wordsworth here. I hear you, Iron Maiden II. What’s the matter?
—We have the results of the investigation you have commissioned before. You were right. In recent months, there has been an enormous traffic of weapons in the black market of Londinium, enough to start a war... However, there is no sign that they have got into the hands of the criminal gangs. The Scotland Yard researcher who helped us had no idea where they might be got.
—I see. Good work, Kate. Ah, I have also found what I was looking for, —said the Professor, taking a full notebook from his pocket. —The bionic soldiers we have found in the hotel and who later attacked Sister Esther in the ghetto had received corporal improvements of type K. Albion has used that technology four times in its history but in the last thirty years it has only been applied once... It was five years ago, in the case of a marine infantry who had suffered serious injuries. His name was... let's see... Sergeant Jack Ironside, of the forty-fourth regiment of the Marine Corps, 5th Special Operations Battalion. He was thirty years old.
—Marine Corps... 5th Special Operations Battalion. And what happened to Sergeant Ironside? Did he remain in the army?
—He didn’t. He remained in the same regiment, but two years ago... in Percy's rebellion... the forty-four was exterminated in Beaufort. All of its members died and were awarded the Waterloo Cross posthumously. Ironside was promoted to a brigade and buried in Greenwich Cemetery. Since he had no family, it was his superior who was in charge of the funeral: Colonel Mary Spencer. That's what I found in the military archives…
The speakers were filled for a moment with static noise, and the Professor touched the controls to try to improve the reception.
—The curious thing is that the ecclesiastical archives contain no trace of Sergeant Ironside's burial. And not only him. Among those killed in Percy's rebellion, there are hundred men of the forty-four whose funeral we have no record of.
—So they officially died in combat, but their burial was not recorded? —Kate asked, surprised.
It was the army that kept the record of the dead on the battlefield, but the Church was in charge of the funeral. It was not uncommon that there were some discrepancies between the archives of both institutions and that until then nobody had bothered to check it. Anyway, the disappearance of a hundred corpses of soldiers was not normal. Where had they gone?
—What happened then, Professor? I don’t understand anything…
—I want to tell you, and I also have more interesting information, but we'll have to leave it here for now... I think this conversation is not private, — the priest said, smiling at the interferences coming from the speakers, and raised the voice so that the methuselah that was in the back seat could hear. —What I can say is that someone plans something big for the next few days. I'm going to try to talk to that person and find out what's behind the issue. Once I've finished, I'll tell you everything. Until then, I have to ask you to keep waiting in the city. If my intuition doesn’t deceive me, something will happen soon. You must be ready to react at any time.
—Understood. Professor, be careful. Remember that Abel... God forbid that you too...
The Professor did not hear the end of the sentence, because a storm of interference completely erased the worried voice of the nun.
—What is it, old man? Has the radio crashed? Ha! Tthat terran technology...
—No, it’s not that.
The priest responded with seriousness to Vanessa's sarcastic comment. Without even trying to manipulate the controls, he casted a sharp look at the indicator lights.
—They are caused interferences. Someone is using high-powered electronic countermeasures... Also, the radar reacts. Something is coming through the air at high speed. At one hundred knots per hour? That fast can only be... a combat aircraft? But who will do training flights around here after sunset?
—Is it coming from this direction?
Vanessa discovered something by looking through the smoked glass. The eastern sky has already darkened but two bright lights appeared in it. A human look would have confused them with two stars but the methuselah didn’t hesitate: there were two biplanes flying in formation, one above the other.
—They are two fighter jets of the Royal Navy... But how strange... They don’t carry identification number or license plate...
—Hold tight to the seat, milady! — The Professor shouted.
Before the methuselah had time to mock his serious tone, the sedan accelerated violently down the road.
—Old man! What’s wrong now!?
—Silence! I don’t want you to bite your tongue because of me!
Where did the car get that power from? Raising a huge dust cloud on the deserted road, the sedan gained more and more speed, like a cheetah chasing its prey. However, when Vanessa raised her voice again, it wasn’t because of the speedometer needle, which seemed to being about to go off. The two biplanes slowed to approach them and seemed ready to plummet like two hawks on a hare.
—Bu..., but who are those...?! They are coming for us!
When the methuselah finally realized what was happening, the biplanes had already opened fire, and curtains of dust were rising on each side of the sedan.
—And they are shooting us! They are shooting us, old man!
—Thank you for letting me know... But I'd honestly prefer you to stop using expressions like that. If you want us to treat each other with more familiarity, you could call me grandpa...
—I don’t know if it's the best time now to... They are coming back!
The sedan already was driving with more than a hundred kilometers per hour, but the biplanes doubled its speed. Releasing a cap cloud, they made a new pass over the vehicle. At once they exceeded three hundred meters, turned around, crossed and prepared to launch a third burst.
—Hmmm, they're good. Surely they are class L pilots, at least.
—Keep the comments for others... We have them on our tail! They are shooting! —Vanessa shrieked watching the grim shadows growing on the other side of the glass.
The first two misses helped them to calculate the firing trajectory. The third would be the final one.
—They are coming!
—No need to worry... Rocket acceleration!
With a thunderous noise, the car accelerated and left behind a column of white smoke. The force of the acceleration caused Vanessa to fall against the seat.
—Acc..., acceleration rockets!? But, old man, what do you mean!? Ah...! Ah ...! Aaaaaaaaaaah!
In the midst of a crash that seemed to have opened the sky and earth, the vehicle began to vibrate so much that the methuselah couldn’t say anything else, and her voice became a moan.
Meanwhile the sedan didn’t stop accelerating. Its speed already exceeded two hundred kilometers per hour so that the biplanes that pursued them had to make efforts to keep track them. In addition strange noises were to hear coming from the lower part of the vehicle. Metal plates appeared on each side of the sedan.
—Are they wings!? But ...does this car have wings?!
—Let's leave the details for later. Now fasten the belt, because we're going to take off.
—Take..., take off!? But what...?!
Before Vanessa could finish her question the vehicle responded to her by rising gently in the air.
—It fli..., it really flies! Murmured the aristocrat watching the short wings leading the car on its ascent.
As fast as they were, it was incredible that they could fly, but she couldn’t deny that the ground was moving away before her eyes.
—This is absurd!
—Absurd? My favorite car?
—I don’t know what is more incredible, the car or you! A sedan that flies!
—Well, it's not a surprise either. Nowadays, who can be called a scientist without being able to fly a car?
—Thi..., this old man is crazy...—Vanessa replied, rubbing the bump on her forehead.
A strange smell caught her attention at once. It was a stench of ammonia and burned hair. Searching the source of the smell with her nose the methuselah looked down and got stupefied.
—Hey…! The seat is burning! Hey, old man! That smoke is coming out!
—Smoke? How strange... But they didn’t hit us…
The Professor looked at the young woman in the rearview mirror and immediately tensed his face.
—Hmmm, this doesn’t look good. We are losing fuel.
—Losing fuel?
But why was so much smoke coming out of the leather seats? Seeing the look of incomprehension of the methuselah, the Professor began his chemistry lesson:
—You see, these rockets use hydrogen peroxide as an oxidizer and a mixture of methanol and a derivative of hydrazine as a reducer. This fuel has the advantage of generating a great impulse force with very little quantity. The only drawback is that the reducer is extremely corrosive... and it escapes from the tank very easily. I have to investigate how to use electrolytes to seal the tank and avoid leaks. Oh, by the way, better don’t touch the part that has been eroded. Hydrazine breaks down proteins, and your body wouldn’t last for a second.
—You ..., you idiot! You should have warned me before!
Vanessa took a sudden leap to see how the bottom edge of her jacket began to dissolve.
—I'm leaving! I get off right now! I want to get off this jalopy!
—Don't jump around, please. You don’t know how difficult it is to get the car to fly in balance. If you don’t stop moving we will lose speed and...
—And what are you telling me...? Aaaah!
Vanessa rushed to the door to try to open it, but before she could reach it, the seat turned around. Without warning, the sedan made a ninety-degree turn in mid-flight.
—Aaah...! Look what you've done! Didn’t I just tell you that...!?
—Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Vanessa could only respond to Professor's warnings with a scream, while the sedan plummets down to the river. If it lost speed it’s very difficult for such a vehicle to remain in flight. The water was rapidly approaching them.
—Don’t you think it's not very feminine to shout «aah»!? A lady like you should scream «oh!» Or at least «aaay!»...
—Don't fool around and do something, damn it!
—Hmmm?
While the miserable roar of Vanessa the Professor’s attention changed to the two biplanes which were also starting the descent. They probably intended to shoot them when they fall into the river. The last rays of the sun made the cannons of their machine guns to shine.
—Well, it seems that we don’t have much time to play... Now I will give you what you are looking for.
The gentleman with the pipe drew a smile from ear to ear.
At the same time he lifted the steering wheel, the priest stomped on the pedals, which caused the nose of the vehicle to rise with a roar. The propulsion rockets, which seemed to have gone broken, received a new injection of fuel that brought them back to life. Cutting the surface of the water like a sword, the sedan regained height at a devilish speed.
But…
—No! We can’t escape!
Vanessa huddling at one end of the seat to escape the corrosive liquid watched her pursuers with a desperate glance. The biplanes were getting in position to launch the final blast against the sedan. She could almost see the gloomy smiles of the pilots as they carefully pointed their deadly weapons. Their rockets were not rivals for the two planes. It seemed like it was only a matter of time before they were turned into a sieve. However the cries of Vanessa found in response the calm voice of the priest:
—Let's go up, Vanessa! Hold on tight!
The sedan began a violent ascent that caused the methuselah to scream. The persecutors on the other hand didn’t stay behind and also rose as if following their trail.
—It's useless! We are going to...!
A gigantic explosion interrupted the girl's scream.
The surface of the river rose as if a volcano has erupted underwater; even the sedan, which was in a good distance from the ground, noticed the jolt. However, the biplanes which were closer to the water didn’t have room to maneuver. The column of water rose like cannon shot and tore them apart in mid-flight.
—What ... what happened !? —Vanessa murmured and stunned as she were watching the column of water falling back into the river like rain.
The ground was strewn with the remains of the two biplanes, as if a detonation had reached them fully. Their persecutors had found the destiny to which they intended to send them. What happened there?
—Just before we got up, I released some of the fuel on the river... Hydrogen peroxide is an explosive and more unstable than nitroglycerin. If an insect gets stuck in the tank, it would be capable of causing an explosion, —the Professor explained calmly as he stabilized the vehicle and verified that the pilots had managed to jump off the planes. —Well, I see there have been no victims... Come on, there's no time. We will fly to Londinium. Fasten your seatbelt, Vanessa.
—But..., bu ..., but what was this...?
—Didn’t I explain it to you just right now? Hydrogen peroxide, when in contact with water...
—It’s not that! What I want to know is why they were persecuting us! If they can send two biplanes to eliminate us, they are not just murderers. It must have been the government or the army... Hey, old man! You said before that something big was going to happen, right? What the hell have you discovered!? Do you have any idea who they might have been!?
—Well, it’s more than just an idea. I can say that I'm sure.
—Sure? What are you sure of?
—The thing is that I don’t feel like to tell it someone with such bad manners. At least you could try to say something like «Honored gentleman, would you be so kind as to answer this question?» Or «Vanessa really wants to know, Grandpa ♥[1]!» Then everything would be much more flexible.
—What are you doing old man!? Are you playing with me or...!
The methuselah lifted her claws back to the priest's neck, but stopped for a moment. One of the gauges installed on the glove box started to sound with a sharp noise at the same time as a red light illuminated the word ALERT.
—Hmmm ...! This doesn’t look good.
—And what is that this time? More enemies!?
—An unknown radar signal is directed towards us. I don’t like this... They have located us.
—Located!?
But who or what?
Vanessa turned around, but didn’t see any other aircraft. There was nothing but the moon and a group of fishermen in the Thames who followed with their mouths open the image of the flying sedan. There was also foam on the river... Foam!?
—Old man! Below! Underwater!
The river opened almost at the same time as the methuselah cried. Two long thin objects were rising in the night air.
Once they were completely out of the water the two rockets powered their engines and turned their sharp heads towards the sedan, guided by the radar of the huge body that was under the water.
—Missiles! Impossible!
—Hold tight, milady!
Casting a quick glance in the rearview mirror the knight set the fifth gear. The fuel filled the rear propulsion rockets, and the sedan was driving off at a devilish speed.
However, the missiles that pursued them were even faster. The distance between the vehicle and the metallic heads that were bringing fire of destruction was getting smaller and smaller.
—No! They're going to catch us!
The Professor shouted abandoning for a moment his usual sophisticated vocabulary, at the same time he looked in the rearview mirror…
And a glow ripped the night.
[1] The little heart is in the Japanese original but not in the Spanish version.
#trinity blood#Sunao Yoshida#Thores Shibamoto#kiyo kyujyo#kiyo qjo#William Walter Wordsworth#vanessa walsh#cain knightlord#Isaak Fernand von Kämpfer#Esther Blanchett#light novel#translation
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