Strike the Blood - Volume 16 - Chapter Pr

INTRO 

The ocean roared. 

Lazy waves lapped at the moonlit shore quietly and steadily. 

Beneath a navy-blue sky, which complemented the vast sea, there lay a teenage boy in a soaked parka. The sky, dotted with stars, filled his entire field of vision. Silver moonlight illuminated the white, sandy beach. 

The humid wind bore the scent of a summer evening. The sea spray that coated his cheek was reminiscent of fresh blood. 

As if seduced by its warmth, he slowly came to life. Remnants of crushed coral slipped between his clenched fingers. 

The boy had a face one might see anywhere. 

He was around sixteen or seventeen years old with pale, thin hair reminiscent of a malnourished wolf’s fur. Even so, he lacked distinguishing features. He was just another student, common to every habitat. 

Despite having stirred, the boy remained there, prone at the edge of the waves, unable to sit up. 

The drenched clothing and nighttime breeze had robbed his body of warmth, leaving him weak. His limbs were numb, as if his flesh and blood belonged to someone else. He could feel nothing but the sand against his skin. The sensation felt oddly raw and vivid. 

Pushed around by the force of a wave, the boy rolled onto his back. He listlessly shook the water droplets from his face. 

A moment later, he heard what sounded like footsteps on sand. Once he opened his eyes, he saw a slender human silhouette, that of a young girl wearing a fairly long coat. 

She had refined, doll-like facial features, her large eyes standing out in particular. From the gaps in the long wimple she wore, reminiscent of a nun’s, protruded hair as white as snow. 

She stopped at the boy’s side, looking down at him without a word. Her gaze was cold. 

“I’ve finally found you, Kojou Akatsuki.” 

The girl spoke with a hint of reproach in her voice. Her attitude was aggressive, but thanks to the soft, serene tenor of her voice, the impression she gave was not as barbed as her choice of words. 

The boy looked back at her with bewilderment. “…Kojou…Akatsuki?” 

“Do you not remember?” asked the girl, raising an eyebrow in visible exasperation. “That is your own name, is it not? You are Kojou Akatsuki, the Fourth Primogenitor.” 

“I’m…the Fourth…Primogenitor?” It was an ominous-sounding title, one that the boy couldn’t help casting suspicion over. 

“Yes.” The girl mixed a sigh with the sagging of her shoulders. “You are the fourth of the original vampires, which should not exist. You are immortal and immutable. You have no blood brethren, order is not among your desires, and you are served by twelve Beast Vassals that are destruction incarnate. You drink people’s blood, thereby slaughtering and destroying them. You are a cold, heartless monster astray from all doctrines of the world—that is what you are, Kojou Akatsuki.” 

“So, I’m a vampire primogenitor, huh…?” 

Still resting on the sand, the boy gazed at his own palms. It was an unexpectedly calm reaction. Mysteriously, he felt no distress at having been told he was the World’s Mightiest Vampire. 

“Do you remember now?” The white-haired girl’s tone still remained cold. 

He smiled. “Being told I’m one of these primogenitor-somethings doesn’t ring a bell, but I do remember my own name at least.” 

“Very good,” said the girl, nodding. 

The boy named Kojou Akatsuki then sat up and stared at her. “So where am I? What am I doing in a place like this…?” 

“This is Onrai Island.” 

“…Onrai Island?” 

“An isolated island floating in the deep sea some three hundred and thirty kilometers south of Tokyo, Japan’s one and only Demon Sanctuary—a special self-governing district that manages demons such as yourself.” 

“ Manages ? Don’t you mean isolates ?” Kojou replied with sarcasm. 

If the goal was merely to manage demons, going out of their way to construct a self-governing district at sea, far away from the mainland, would hardly have been necessary. He felt that the island’s existence was clearly for shutting demons in and isolating them from human society. 

The girl’s emotionless eyes locked with Kojou’s provoking stare. 

Without warning, she thrust her right hand forward, which had previously been concealed in her coat. 

She was holding a long, glowing vermilion sword in that hand. The serrated blade undulated like billowing flames. She positioned its tip against Kojou’s neck. 

“Who are you?” he asked, conscious of the blade’s weight as it grazed his skin. 

“My name is Shizuri Kasugaya Castiella,” she answered with the utmost gravity. 

“I am your watcher.”