"Well, grab a seat and have a drink. What are you in the mood for?"
The man walked behind the bar counter and lined up the bottles. He moved with familiarity, as if this was something he'd done for a living.
"That said, you know where you are. Don't expect anything standard in this place. Sure, there's none of the real deal, but we have wine grown using cow blood as fertilizer. Gotta set the mood, right?"
he added, eliciting a faint smile and nod from the woman.
"Oh yeah, we really do. But I need to stay sober for the job, so I'll only have one glass. Can you make a Kiss in the Dark?"
The name made the man crack a grin, revealing a pair of over-developed fangs.
"Yeah, that's a specialty of mine. Good taste you got there. I'll have me some of that, too. Such a Dark Gift is actually perfect for what I'll tell you tonight. You were Ms. Malloy, right? Sit down and get more comfortable. I'll bring the drink in a sec."
"Just 'Dinah' is fine, Mr. Ehrenburg."
"Then you can call me 'Wilhelm.' Hell, even 'Bey' is good... On second thought, forget I ever said that. It ain't reasonable, but it just so happens that everyone who calls me that is either dead or unhinged. Feels like the name's cursed or something. Just use 'Wilhelm.' You'll probably know what I mean once I'm done talking. You got enough space on your recorder? Hope you're ready for a long one."
"I'm well prepared, thank you. But I must say..."
As the man — Wilhelm Ehrenburg — nonchalantly, yet skillfully prepared the cocktails, the woman — Dinah Malloy — found herself perplexed. Wilhelm was sharp enough to notice it.
"Surprised? I'm way more worldly and direct than you imagined, aren't I?"
"...Sorry, but yes, that's exactly how I feel. I'd expected a person like you to be different in many more ways than you seem to be."
"And it's making you doubt I'm the real deal, eh?"
"I wouldn't go that far... But I am curious why you decided to give me an interview."
"Ain't it obvious?"
Wilhelm Ehrenburg shrugged as he filled the two glasses with the completed cocktail.
"It's 'cause you're a fine piece of ass. See, you got me pegged all wrong. I'm never actually hiding from anyone. I live how I want and go wherever the hell I like. So if I find a good woman, I just approach her. Though, I can't deny that I've been feeling good lately. That might've had something to do with it."
He left the counter, walked up to Dinah, and extended his glass toward her. Still somewhat perplexed, she timidly accepted it.
"I'm honestly surprised that I was able to meet you so easily. I do believe that you never run or hide, but, well, you have, uh..."
"Oh, you mean the brats?"
"Yes. Pardon the term, but you have a number of fanatics. It's said that in vampire bars such as this, merely speaking your name is a death sentence. I see it's nothing but an urban legend now, but the very fact it exist is a testament to just how much you're revered by the youth that gather in Borges houses such as this. You're not just a myth, either, so I really didn't expect this meeting to come about so easily."
"And yet you came to me head-on."
"I had no other options. Is that strange?"
"Damn right it is. Takes guts. It's why I think you're a fine woman."
Wilhelm chuckled, baring his fangs and throwing his head back. They were in a private room at a vampire bar in Brooklyn — one of his main haunts. He'd reserved the whole place, so there was no one besides them.
"You're lucky, too. Luck's a pretty big thing, y'know? I have none of it, so I like those that do. Borges houses like this are all over the place around these paths, and I frequent those, too. You gotta have some of it to bump into me like this."
"True. I guess I really was lucky."
"So yeah, this is probably fate or something. You and I are connected. That's why I had the brats leave. Nothing's gonna bother us now. Tonight belong to us. I'll help you out with your work until the break of dawn. Like I said before..."
"All my questions will be answered when you're done with your story?"
"Damn straight. That's what interview are for, right? You'll know why I'm so direct, hear about the curse, and understand why I'm in a good mood... I'll tell you everything. From start to finish. That's what you want, right, Dinah?"
"Yes... I'm all ears, Wilhelm."
As if taking part in some solemn rite, the two made a toast and emptied their glasses. After she gulped down the dark gift he'd mixed her, Dinah began talking in a friendlier tone. Then, she pulled out her voice recorder and turned it on.
Wilhelm sat on the sofa opposite her and, not wanting to keep her waiting, began his tale.
"I was born in 1917... I think. Not too sure about the details. It's not like I forgot, I just don't have any way to confirm. I was born into destitute poverty. There's no family register with my name on it, and it wasn't a time or country when that was rare. Whatever the case, despite my looks, I'm actually a really old fart."
His words would've made any normal person doubt their sanity, for if they were true, it would mean he'd live for nearly a century.
However, his appearance was that of a man in his twenties. If reason applied, he was talking nothing but nonsense. It would've been easy to dismiss it as such, but Wilhelm had an aura about him that made his tale strangely convincing. The same could be said about his looks. Handsome Face, Unnatural pale skin, hair devoid of any color except white, bewitching red eyes... The dim light of the room made those features stand out like a full moon lording over a black night. Freak bars — Borges houses — such as this were often frequented by eccentrics with a penchant for body modification. To them, skin with an unnatural color was small-time. You'd have to remove a limb to leave them impressed.
Wilhelm, though, had none of the reek of fakery prevalent among those folks. He felt like a natural freak — a perfect fit for the establishment. There was a generic disorder called "albinism," and he appeared to be a prime example of a sufferer.
"You were born in Germany, weren't you?"
"Yeah. Hanover. The whole country was probably the same back then. In a word, it'd be 'shithole.' You're a journalist. Means you know your history, don't you? It was basically what you'd expect from a country that lost a war. Shit's not worth talking about."
A time of mass poverty and public unrest. Though he'd experienced the horrors first-hand, he talked of it not with gloom, but with grin. He claimed to have been born in Germany at the tail end of World War I, and he act as though he knew the ugliest side of humanity better than most. Dinah didn't question the authenticity of his words and merely listened. Now and then she'd give her passive nods. Being a professional interviewer, she couldn't allow herself to interrupt him. Even if Wilhelm was just a megalomaniac, it wasn't her job to try and fix him. However, she couldn't help but voice a reaction to the words that followed.
"My Mother was my Sister."
"Huh...?"
She couldn't understand it. To her, those were words of pure madness, thoroughly detached from reason. Or perhaps it was a reaction of her most animalistic instincts, rejecting what seemed implausible for any fellow human. The reaction onlymade Wilhelm's grin grow wider.
"You didn't know that? It's info you can find if you look hard enough. Didn't come prepared, did ya, Dinah? The vampire of the battlefield. The pale-faced SS officer who had appeared in just about every war-torn area since World War II. The wandering Hakenkreuz. The one and only Wilhelm Ehrenburg. Saying all that is embarrassing, but it's who I am. You're here to interview me, aren't ya?"
"Ah, umm... Sorry. You're right. I should've done more research."
His somewhat playful words made Dinah hastily shake her head and apologize. She then repeated her words, as if to digest them.
"Your mother was your sister... Does that mean...?"
"It does. Don't you journalist hear about stuff like this pretty often? Or is it so sickening that you just can't get used to it?"
"No, that's not it. And none of it is your own fault, so I don't any less of you because of it."
"Really, now? I'm pretty damn disgusted by my blood, myself."
Though this ugly facet of his origin wasn't unheard of, it was certainly something that would raise a lot of eyebrows.
"Just like everyone else, I don't have any memories from before I was born, so I don't know shit about who pumped me into her womb or when it happened. I'd like to say that's something only the mom knew, but the bitch was a damn prostitute. I can only guess, really, but I'm damn sure I'm right about that. My earliest memory is from when I was four or five years old. I wandered out of my box for the night, walked around the house, and saw my old man and sis just going at it like wild animals."
"Your 'box'...?"
"Yeah. Just a box. Nothing special about it. It was both my bed and my hiding place. You know what I mean, don't ya? It's pretty damn obvious that I ain't good friends with the sun."
Dinah nodded in response. Albinism was a condition that disturbed melanin production, and those affected were extremely weak to sunlight — especially ultraviolet rays. A malnourished child with this disorder would definitely die if he walked around during the day. Thus, young Wilhelm always hid in his box until sundown and crawled out when it was night. It was a life fit for vampire, not a human.
"My old man was a loser who lost a leg in the war and was kicked out of the army. With nothing else to do, he just drank booze, fucked his daughter, or punched me around while shitting all over the place. That's all I remember about him, but that's probably all he was. And my mom... Well, sister... Ah fuck it. Heiga's fine. That's her name."
"Did she punch you, too?"
"No, she was actually pretty nice to me. I can still remember her drunk, sugary voice as she called out 'Wil, oh my dear Wilhelm.' Woman was lost in her own world. Dumb bitch."
Wilhelm continued to spit on the memory of what might've been the only person to have ever loved him, apparently feeling nothing. He ridiculed her, making blatant his shame at having her blood in his veins.
"She was so damn stupid that everyone could have their way with her, and she never really got what happened and why. It was like she didn't even have the capacity for the slightest bit of sense. Anyway, enough about my happy little household. Let's get back to me. Like I said, I couldn't move around at day, but at night, my old man and Heiga were busy doing their thing. It was nothing I wanted to watch, and I was hungry, so I just went ahead and took to hunting. First bugs, then mice, then I became good enough to occasionally catch birds and stuff. It was a life of nothing but going hungry and eating. Then, one day, I realized that this was the kind of creature I was."
He'd discovered his identity, and it stayed with him to this day.
"A vampire?"
"Yeah. Hey, doesn't that sound like some sorta miracle to you? Some kinda truth? I mean, think about it. Back then, I didn't even know about those things. Hell, I barely knew what a school was and didn't even have a single picture book at home. There's no way I could have been influenced by Bram Stoker. That can only mean that I'm not some faker or a follower, but an original — a true ancestor. I got to where I am all on my own."
A sunlight-hating, nocturnal hunter with a taste for blood. If he'd recognized himself as such a creature despite not knowing the concept of vampires, then indeed, it was safe to call him the genuine article. At the very least, he definitely wasn't merely imitating it.
"Sure, I can only say this now 'cause I learned about vampires later, but all that matters here is the first moment when I realized the truth about myself without anyone telling me. Things started to change fast after that. Awareness is power, you know? I became better at hunting and got way stronger. I could even beat and eat a pack of stray dogs. But then, well..."
He lightly chuckled and shrugged in a self-mocking manner.
"Sadly, they weren't just enough for me anymore. Pretty stupid, ain't it? I grew up and started to crave better quality and quantity. Cats and dogs just didn't cut it. I wanted some hotter blood."
"And so, you..."
"Yeah, I went for humans. They were the next logical step. I started with a baby. Kidnapped the damn thing. I ate it and slurped up its blood,"
He added with no remorse in his tone.
"I went on to do lots of other stuff after that. Sometimes started fights, sometimes got dragged into them. Shit like that. Anyway, that was just about when Heiga found the mountain of bones I'd buried in our yard."
He hadn't even felt like a child caught committing mischief. In fact, he had been more surprised by the fact that Heiga, of all people, was the one who'd found him out.
"That was when I had a little thought. 'Why are these my parents?' I didn't know about incest or how society saw it, and even now, I don't really give a shit. But even back then, I could tell they weren't like me. They were something really fucking disgusting. I guess you could say they always pissed me off. I could just feel they were my parents, that we were related by blood, and the fact that something like me came from something like them? It drove me nuts. And what did I do them? Well, isn't it obvious?"
Wilhelm asked.
"I killed her. If I didn't break where I came from, I couldn't have been born in the real sense. It was a... How do I put it...?"
"You felt that your birth kept you bound, so you wanted to discard your past. Settle the score, so to speak."
"Yeah, that. That works."
Wilhelm was a vampire, but his parents were lowly humans. From his perspective, he was a phoenix born to a pair of kite birds. This truth endangered his identity, so he tore it all apart. If he didn't shatter the connection, it would've destroyed him, instead.
"My accursed roots, return to ash."
He had both an abnormal mind that could form such alien conclusions, and proactiveness that let him act on them with no hesitation to speak of. To Wilhelm, it all came as naturally as breathing. He was indeed a "monster." Sanity was no friend of him.
"So yeah, the time I killed Heiga was probably the first time I became sure about myself in the real sense. Not that it changed the fact that I reached the truth all by myself. I fucked her real good when I tore her apart, but I only did it 'cause I wanted to break the hole I came out of. I was rock hard and came over and over. Lemme tell you, I felt reborn in more ways than one. Whoa, sorry. That's not the kind of thing you tell a woman. Not with that kind of excitement, anyway. All you need to get from this is that Heiga was my first woman, and that she was pretty damn good. Khahahaha!"
The exhilaration in his tone, combined with the subject matter, was enough to induce nausea in most people, men and women alike. Dinah's endurance in this regard was nothing if not commendable.
"I'd like to ask some questions. What became of your father?"
"Killed him. As an extra after Heiga, basically."
"Did Heiga try to scold you?"
"Fuck if I know. I killed her right when she called me over. But, well, she wasn't one to ever scold me. Honestly, I think that..."
"She was glad to have been killed by you?"
"Maybe. I mean, she became the foundation for her beloved son's greatest desire."
"So this event meant a lot to you, didn't it?"
"It did. I've never felt more satisfied than I did at that moment."
"But didn't you say that you still find your own blood disgusting? You killed your parents and broke free from the curse of your birth, so why would you say that? You've been reborn, right? You found yourself and became the vampire you were meant to be, didn't you?"
In response, Wilhelm simply shrugged.
"No need to rush me. I'll tell you all about it."
As if declaring the introduction over, he began talking in a more theatrical.
"The years right after I killed Heiga aren't even worth talking about. Sure, I was having the time of my life, but in hindsight, it was all so fucking dumb. I was too damn short-sighted and narrow-minded. So I'll just skip ahead about a decade. To a certain... Evening, I think... In the year 1939. I'll tell you about my meeting with Lord Heydrich and the rest of the Longinus Dreizehn Orden... I'll tell you what the thirteen of us thought, did, where we headed, and where we arrived. And what we're planning to do now. Of course, I can only tell you the things I saw with my own eyes, so I can't vouch for the bigger picture,and there might be things I misunderstood. But know this: I ain't gonna tell a single lie."
"Kiss in the Dark."
The Dark Gift. The vampire pointed at his own chest and cracked a suggestive grin.
"That's the cocktail we just had, but it's also the name of a certain something living in my soul. Now ain't that just fuckin' classy?"
His voice carried with it his love of the night. And then, he merrily began to recount his tale. What follows are his memories — the bloody, strife-stricken life of the man called "Kaziklu Bey."
And that's how we met Lord Heydrich and became His Claws and Fangs. We each had our own reasons for serving him, and a lot of us joined the cause at different times, but the gist is that all of us were bewitched by the Gold. Wait, scratch that. "Broken" is much better word for it. The realization that a person like Him exists turns your entire worldview upside down.
Whether it be good or bad, a blessing or a curse, is up to the person to decide. Samiel would give me shit for even entertaining the idea that it's not always a blessing, but I'm not as thick-headed as that hag, I think it's fine for people to see it their own way.
For example, the thing she reveres is fire, and that's how she defines Him. For me, though, the man is a deep, Golden darkness. Both of us revere Him, but the concepts we apply to Him are basically opposite. And I think it's fine for people to have their own ways of worshipping Him. Hell, for all I care, they can even serve Him just 'cause they're scared shitless. Fear, respect, awe — same shit, different word. All that matters is that they accept He's far above us all and that He has some grand plan for all of us.
I really don't give a shit as long as they're not braindead enough to think they're stronger than Him or that they can stop His Hegemony. I'm His Claws and Fangs, ya know? I'm not gonna stomach any shitstains that challenge him. I'll crush, kill, and destroy and idiots stupid enough to defy Him. I'll also accept His world and everything that comes with it. No, wait, putting it like that is disrespectful. Rather, I feel that my existence doesn't reject the Gold's Hegemony.
That's the shape of the loyalty I present Him. Pretty orthodox, eh? I'm pretty fuckin' big on my knightly honor, y'know?
You might not think it suits me, but I'm not just some brat who throws a tantrum when she's not the first at everything. Though, I'm not saying that I wouldn't resist someone stronger than me. If I hate his guts, I'm not gonna bend the knee no matter how far above me he is. Sure, ya gotta know how to tell when someone can easily thrash you, but if you rely on just that, you might as well be a fuckin' machine. You're barely even alive at that point.
Then again, that goes against what I just said about not taking shit from any fuckers opposing Him. I mean, they'd fight the Gold 'cause they don't like Him, and that takes a load of pride and determination. There's definitely something to respect about that.
Honestly, this might be way simpler than how I'm putting it. I've probably just fallen for Him. It's kinda dumb and I know it sounds gay as fuck, but I can't deny that I follow Lord Heydrich because I like Him.
It might also devalue what I said about knightly honor, but if you ask me, this is a pretty important part of it. Serving a lord who constantly makes you gag is just fucking pathetic. I chose who I work for, and that's the way it should be.
Well, that went on for too long. Anyway, I became the Number IV of the Obsidian Round Table. Ahnenerbe, Fusion Type, Ewigkeit... Up to you whether you believe me or not, but that's the reason why I haven't aged all this time. Age and illness can do shit all to me 'cause I'm constantly reaping souls. Makes me seem like a stereotypical vampire, don't it? Well, it's actually some sort of magic, but who cares. Fuck, I don't even want to think about it.
I mean, this shit was taught to me by Karl Kraft... Mercurius. While Lord Heydrich is the only one I recognized as superior to me, Mercurius is the only one I can't even gauge. He made my skin crawl. Didn't like him one bit. Everyone else probably felt the same, though, for different reasons, obviously.
In my case, it's pretty basic — he seems really damn weak. A contradiction, you think? Not making sense, am I? Okay, lemme give you a simple explanation.
Imagine an animal that's both old as shit and is being fucked by all sorts of diseases. It can barely move, it's head's not working properly, taking a toll on its intuition and thoughts, and its basic instincts may as well not be there considering how useless they are. Animals like that are definitely "weak," aren't they? They're harmless eyesores just waiting for natural selection to take them.
But what if it's a lion? Or a bear? How about a tiger? Or hell, a goddamn dinosaur? A wounded T-Rex is still overwhelming, so ants don't stand a chance against it.
What, you're saying billions of them could stand a chance? You're probably right, but who gives a shit. I'm not well-read, ya know? Making good parallels is hard for me.
Anyway, in my eyes, Mercurius was close to that, except worse. Seriously, what the hell was that thing...? For all I know, he could've been something way beyond a dinosaur, but to be frank, I haven't a fucking clue.
I swear, that crap always made me gag. One moment I think I can kill him in one hit, and the other, I know that even facing him would be delusional. Standing before him made me constantly switch back and forth between those two feelings.
He was some sort of thing that just went around creating shitty endless loops like that. It always made me feel stupid. It was like he repeatedly pointed it out over and over. Dance, dance for me, spin on the palm of my hand, again and again...
And that's why I fucking hate him. The only bad thing I can say about Lord Heydrich is that He's on good terms with that bastard. My ideal outcome would be one where He wages a Holy war against Mercurius and kill him with me as one of His Fangs. I have no idea if that future will come, but I fuckin' hope it does. This thought didn't cross my mind back during the war, but I'm sure I felt something similar.
As a knight of the Longinus Dreizehn Orden, I haven't changed much since that time. After fighting countless battles, gathering tons of souls, and going through with Lord Heydrich's assassination, I began to feel something big was about to happen...
It was late in the summer of the year 1944. A little while before Machina joined and took the last seat at the table.
In the Warsaw Uprising, I met a woman who was my "first" in a completely different way than Heiga.
Don't you worry, I'm gonna tell you everything. From the first moment I met her, to the very end of our story.
___________
_______
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(First Person POV)
"Uoohhhrhaaaaah!"
I destroyed them, twisted them apart, tore them to pieces, and squeezed them dry.
Then, I absorbed their life until they were all dried up.
If I had anything that could be called fighting style, that was the best description for it. I trampled my enemies with all my might, leaving them as little more than undignified gore.
I knew pretty damn well that I was being crude and brutish. I mean, by that point, I had a general idea for how normal people viewed things.
What of it, though? Sure, I didn't give a shit about society's standards, but I wasn't purposefully trying to stray away from them, either.
If anything, it just so happened that my style fit a certain template. It definitely wasn't like I was just some little brat trying to look cool by doing bad things.
This was just a matter of what I preferred and what I was good at. Going wild simply felt right to me, and I couldn't do things any other way. It was something that had become a part of me during the nights I'd spent hunting cats and dogs.
I believed it was normal for people to be good at what they like doing, and the reverse was true, as well. I was good at fighting using my style, and it gave me the best results, so I naturally came to enjoy it.
"Hee hee, khahahaha! Ahahahahahahah! Bring it on, you little shits! Try and hurt me! Come on, I dare ya! You'll have to do better than that if you want to lay hands on the one and only Kaziklu Bey!"
I never held back and wasn't ever planning on it. My nature was that of a taker.
Vampires were hunters who did nothing but plunder, drinking blood for as long as their hunger willed it.
"Briah—"
Thus, I wasn't restraining myself this time, either.
Friend or foe, it didn't matter to me. I simply had no reason to be considerate of worthless humans.
All of them were mere sustenance for me to feed on. With a booming cackle, I summoned my night of bloodstained roses, dooming all caught within to a painful demise.
"Der Rosenkavalier Schwarzwald!"
Briah, The third degree of Die Ewigkeit, also known as the Creation Figment Degree. Was the Degree in which we created a law — the manifestation of the greatest craving burning within our hearts.
Everyone had an ideal they wanted to realize or a truth they wished to force upon others.
A Creation Figment was a way to create a world where that became an absolute law. Though, there was a difference in that Gudōu/Transcendence were directed inward, while Hadōu/Hegemonies went onward.
Whichever it was, it made the user's long-cherished dream become reality. Though limited, it formed a world where you were God and your craving was a commandment.
"Die! Die! Crumble! Shatter! Wither!"
You wonder what kind of world I desired? Isn't it obvious? I wished for a realm of endless night.
I need not the light of day, for the night shall be my chief domain.
What else could a vampire really want? Sure, I couldn't make it eternal, but I could unconditionally bring night upon an entire area within 500m radius of me, and anyone caught inside couldn't escape until I either undid it or die.
It wasn't even all that costly. Well, being a Hadōu that changed the world and the space for a pretty large area, it couldn't stay active for long, but it had a special feature that made up for that.
Anyone consumed by my Briah would have their life drained just by being there, which meant I'd grow stronger for as long as there was someone for me to ravage.
That didn't mean I could keep it up as long as I had fuel, but even so, for a Hadōu type, it was pretty damn user-friendly. Though, that might've had something to do with the fact it had Gudōu feature.
When the night of bloodstained roses was active, I became a pure vampire, just like the stuff of legends.
I knew full well that I was born to humans. That was an objective fact. Still, I also had my unwavering pride as a true ancestor, and this was its physical manifestation.
It was Gudōu — a means of turning your very self into a different world. I was probably the only one at the Longinus Dreizehn Orden who wielded such a hybrid.
Naturally, my world was strong, wicked, and beautiful. Sure, a Fusion Types couldn't think straight when we went too wild, but it wasn't bad enough to be negative.
I was pretty high at that moment, too. I could feel the splendor of the night through my fangs, which brought about a little side effect.
"Wil, oh Wil, oh my dear Wilhelm..."
Every now and then, I could hear a voice coming from the deepest parts of my consciousness.
It was Heiga, and I could feel her like she was next to me... No, maybe even closer.
"I see you're well fed today, too. How lovely... If it's to satisfy you, I can do anything. I'm so sorry for making you live in poverty back then. It was hard for me to tell what you really wanted. But now I know you very well. It all started to make sense after you loved me, robbed me, and made me one with you. It made me so, so happy. I can stay with you and give you anything you want now. So please, tell me... Hey Wil, was I tasty?"
"Hah, dumb bitch."
Her head was empty as always. This was my sister and mom, and she hadn't changed a bit.
"Quit yapping, you fucking whore. Fuck off or I'll kill you again."
"Oh. Oh my! What a gentle boy you are. I didn't think I was that dear to you. Thank you, Wilhelm. I'm the happiest mother in the world."
It didn't even feel like we were having a conversation. This is what I meant when I'd said she didn't have the capacity for the slightest bit of sense.
No matter what happened, to her the world was this pretty little flower garden where everything was always fine and dandy.
Well, now it was a rose garden, and she'd become both the princess and the gardener. For all eternity.
"Man, not even death keeps you from fucking with me."
Despite my grumbling, I didn't truly dislike these talks. After all, the bitch was like a trophy to me, and having her around helped me remember how happy I was the moment I killed her.
A vampire's prey becomes a part of her, ya know? Heiga was the first one I took as I became certain of my true nature, so she was like a medal to me.
Sure, she had no idea when to stop talking, but I did like it when she writhed within me, covered completely in the reddest of blood.
I could only hear her when the world was drowned in grudges and bloodshed, and when I was just feeling really fucking good. 'Cause of that, hearing Heiga's voice always made me feel complete.
Honestly, I wouldn't mind thanking Mercurius for giving me a chance to experience something so pleasurable. I didn't mean the power itself, but the uniqueness of its manifestation. I could be proud of the fact that it belonged to me and me alone.
You know what I said about Briahs needing a craving? Well, it's based on that. Even if all our powers came from the same sorcery, what you actually got ultimately depended on what you wanted.
Imagine someone acting like hot shit just because he got a pistol. He'd be fucking braindead. A pistol was a pistol regardless of who was using it, and if he grew stronger because of it, it was all thanks to the gun alone. There was no inseparable bond between a pistol and its wielder.
My Ewigkeit and Ahnenerbe, on the other hand, were like a furnace and a bunch of iron. What I made of it was up to me to decide.
No one else but me could create the night of bloodstained roses, and it became what it was solely because of me. I'd say that was a pretty huge difference.
"Call me whenever you're hungry. I'm always at your side. I love you, Wilhelm. I love you so, so much. More than anything else in the world! I loooove youu! Kyahahahahaha!"
Anyway, I was in the middle of trashing Warsaw, completely draining allies and enemies alike.
The fact that Heiga's voice was fading signaled the end of the night of bloodstained roses. This meant two things.
First, everyone within my Briah was dead. Without anyone left for me to drain, there was no point in wasting fuel — Souls — just to keep this world active.
Second, and this was something new for me, too, mind you...
"Looks like I'm stuffed. Fuck."
I became aware of the limit of souls I, as a reaper, could gather.
There was no way for me to gauge it, but it was probably in the 7,000 - 8,000 range. That was all I had, and I felt gathering more wouldn't be smart.
Why? This was just an assumption, but I felt it was similar to overfilling a balloon.
Either the Ahnenerbe would break or the flesh would blow up, and to us, either one of those meant death.
Sure, a little bit of overeating probably wasn't that big of a deal, but the risk was still there, and taking it wasn't the smartest thing you could do. That was why my instinct told me to chill.
Though I listened and stopped rampaging, I was still boiling inside.
"Fuck. What a buzzkill."
I'd drained everyone around me, but the battlefield as a whole still had many more prey. It was like I'd found the perfect hunting grounds, caught all the game I could carry, couldn't take any more despite there still being tons.
My only options were dropping some of what I had or ending the hunt altogether.
Anyone would be pissed off, especially when they were basically being told they were too weak, small, and talentless to carry any more.
It felt like someone was looking down and laughing at me, so...
"No. It ain't over yet. This is just my current limit. I'll get way stronger than this."
I'd run into a wall, but it wasn't the end. Techniques, states of mind, a deeper connection to the Ahnenerbe... There were many paths for me to follow from here.
If the conditions were right, I could easily pass this barrier. I'd felt that way back then, and I still do. This might be cliché thing to say, but the only limits were the ones you set yourself.
"Fuck. Just you wait. Fucking shit...!"
Still, it was true that I couldn't do much about it at that point in time. It pissed the fuck out of me, so I decided to do something uplifting.
Specifically, going around and killing everyone in sight, even if it meant wasting their souls. I mean, I'd never seen murder as anything taboo, anyway.
Even if I couldn't suck their blood, I could have a good time just tearing them apart. And fuck, if it made me feel good, so I saw no reason not to do it.
With that in mind, I began walking through Warsaw's ruins, killing everyone I came across. Man, woman, young, old — none of it mattered to me. As their blood rained down on my head, I cooled off a bit and began thinking a little more rationally.
First and foremost, this couldn't go on forever. To us, souls were fuel for our powers.
Even if I just threw a punch, it would be magical attack in nature, with power far from the norm, and it'd drain a bit of my fuel tank.
That was why I already wasn't as full as I mere moments ago. And just like I said before, my powers weren't all that costly, so I couldn't just empty and replace the contents of my tank whenever I wanted.
This made me realize that I'd have to learn to cope with hunger if I wanted to avoid this stress. Well, sure, hunger was stressful too, but it was way better than being so overfed you could barely move.
Pigs are disgusting creatures, ya know? Of course you d. I was one of the Golden Beast's Claws and Fangs, so hunger suited me better than any alternative.
Well, starving myself wasn't an option, either. It was suicidal, and I sure as hell didn't want to become anorexic.
I realized I had to find the best balance on that front. With that settled, I started thinking about what the others were up to.
We hadn't seen each other for two or three years now. Just like me, they were scattered all over the place, fighting their own battles.
We were about to be called to gather again. I had no means of knowing it at that point, but I definitely had a feeling we would.
Lord Heydrich had told us to run as wild as we wished and gather as many souls as possible. Everyone else was obviously doing the same thing, and now that I was full, they were probably in a similar state.
Everyone had a different capacity. Some could store more than me, some less, but I felt that they were reaching or at least approaching their limits. And that was why I assumed we would soon meet again.
When the time came, I really didn't want anyone looking down on me for my amount. And I didn't how I'd feel if I disappointed Lord Heydrich.
The reality of my limit pissed me the fuck off, but there wasn't much I could do. It definitely wasn't something that could be solved in a day or two.
That was why I had to find some sort of new card I could play. Something that couldn't be linked to the amount of souls I had. If you considered me a one-man army, I had to learn strategies or formations that showed I was more than the sum of my numbers.
At the very least, I had to show I'd found something like that and was making progress toward it. Vague ideas were worthless here — I needed a very clear paradigm shift I could aspire for.
That might've made me sound like a bright-eyed, rebellious little brat trying to go against the grain, but that sort of impudence was important, if you asked me. Honestly, anyone who didn't get this sentiment was living a pretty damn boring life.
"Man, there must be something. Come on, think, dammit. Fights aren't always about numbers. I mean, I've always beat the shit of people ganging up on me. Yeah, that's right... I'm used to this by now. That suits me way more than just fucking them up with an army on my side. It's simple, then. And if it's simple, the answer should be simple, too."
I walked and killed while mumbling such things, and the fact I couldn't find an answer pissed me off so much I was about to snap.
"Agh! Holy shit! Fuck off!"
That was when the building to my side collapsed. I let my anger take over and punched the debris with all I had.
It was about as large as bus, but that didn't mean shit to me. Damn thing shattered into pieces that flew dozens of meters away, revealing her within the rubble.
"...Ah."
At first glance, I felt I was looking at a bird.
Specifically, the kind that had a large wingspan, yet didn't seem all that heavy. Sorta like a crane.
Then, I began to think I was looking at a painting or something.
No, seriously, to me, it looked like she had a pair of wings. And where could you find women like that? Only in pictures, of course.
"Umm... You're..."
"Huh? Quit talking. Who I am doesn't fucking matter."
Thus, I was pulled back to reality. The fact she talked made it impossible for her to be a painting or a bird. She was human. I'd decided to kill all humans I met, and she wouldn't be an exception.
At least, that's what I thought, but...
"You saved me! Thank you so much!"
"...Huh?"
I saved her? How'd she come to that conclusion? I didn't get her at all, so I took a moment to think on it.
The only thing that came to mind was the debris. She was almost crushed, and yeah, she'd be flattened if I didn't blow it away.
When you looked at it like that, then sure, she wasn't wrong that I saved her. I never intended to, and I still planned on killing her, but she wasn't exactly wrong.
Honestly, that really fucking pissed me off. I mean, she was the only person besides Heiga to ever thank me. I also found it annoying that she was misunderstanding me just like that worthless sister-mom of mine.
"No, I didn't fucking help you. Hell, why aren't you freaked out?"
The fact she was thanking me could only mean that she saw me blast the shitty debris away. That was downright inhuman, so...
"Aren't you scared of me?"
"But you're SS, aren't you?"
She looked at me, stupefied. The woman seemed so obvious to the situation that I thought she'd gone nuts.
"You're a German soldier. And I'm German. We are allies..."
"..."
"On the same side."
"..."
"So everything is fine."
"Like fuck it is!"
I didn't have a patriotic bone in me, and I didn't give a shit whether someone was German or not. Hell, even in this battle, I'd killed a ton of guys who were wearing uniforms like mine.
The fact she was a woman and a non-combatant didn't matter to me, either. But that, too, was something she just couldn't have known.
"I was slightly surprised, yes, but I believe it's normal for the army to have powers we do not know about. You protect us, after all. That is why it would be very disrespectful to be afraid of you. So allow me to thank you once again... You saved my life."
"...All right, all right, that's enough. I get it. Just quit babbling."
I figured it was impossible to get her understand through talk, and frankly, I wasn't good at that, anyway.
So I decided to act. She got me all confused and made feel dumb as shit for a hot minute, but I wasn't about to let go of my original plan for her.
'She'll get my point when she's dead'
I thought as I prepared to kill her, but then...
"By the way, I can't help but notice that you're the same as me."
"...Huh?"
More words that made no sense. Even more than her previous ones, in fact.
She got me to stop before I killed her twice in a row. That was some kind record, and it made me more confused than angry. The woman, on the other hand, was smiling happily.
Then, she pointed at herself and then to me, urging me to take a better look.
"His body was white as snow and red as the blooming of a rose, and the hair of his head and his long locks were white as wool, and his eyes beautiful. Have you read the Bible? We are both children of Noah. I must say, this is the first time I've met a kindred spirit in this regard."
"Ah..."
With that, I finally realized what she was talking about, and I had to agree.
White skin, white hair, eyes that'd lost color...
All of those were traits of someone who hated all sunlight and could only live at night. At the very least, I couldn't deny she had a plight similar to mine.
Suddenly, some sort of revelation struck me like lightning.
"The same... The same, huh?"
" Yes. I believe this must be a blessing from the Lord. May I ask your name? Mine is Claudia Jerusalem."
"I... I'm Wilhelm."
Then, I realized that she would be useful.
"I'm Wilhelm Ehrenburg. Yeah, I'm your savior, all right."
Thus, I decided to make use of her. It was my right as the savior and her duty as the saved.
"Come with me. We're leaving."
Warsaw continued to burn as the idiot took my hand, not questioning me for even a split second.
That was my meeting with this numbskull of a woman — Claudia.
Claudia Jerusalem was a nun. And she was so pious you could almost smell the church wax on her.
To be frank, her clothes and mannerisms were a dead giveaway, but I couldn't notice 'cause everything else was more important in my eyes.
You might wonder why a nun was on the battlefield in enemy lands, but there was nothing weird about that.
War isn't all about killing, ya know? Sure, that was the main deal, but that was exactly why they had to make sure the bullets keep flying no problem.
You needed someone to care for the injured and keep the food going. Stuff like that was too much for your average grunt, and honestly, everyone preferred to be looked after by a good woman instead of some bearded meathead.
And that was why it was the woman's job. But it just so happened that most normal woman didn't last three days before breaking and making a run for it.
What kind of woman did they need, then? Not even a question. There's a reason why people often see nurses as angels. Anyone writhing in hell needed salvation. And obviously, only the Holy could provide that service.
That was Claudia's job. If you ask me, it seems fucking insane that someone would ever do it willingly, but it makes sense, doesn't it?
She'd belong to the Warsaw Garrison, Army Nursing Division, but she'd been with me ever since we'd met.
Well, to be clear, I basically forced her to come with me. If you wanna know more about Warsaw, just look it up yourself. Shit went on for some time afterward, and I'm sure Claudia had lots of work, but I didn't give a fuck about that.
After all, we were told to gather. If Lord Heydrich called me, there was no point in staying in that shithole. And honestly, I was getting bored of army life.
Anyway, I had Claudia come with me. Again,I pretty much forced her, but she didn't resist all that much. I was her savior, after all.
Now, for the meat. The reason why I was fixated on her was simple. I was gonna consume her.
Remember how I needed a paradigm shift? A breakthrough to pass the wall? She was basically a sacrifice to help me.
The amount of souls we could gather depended on the person. Back at Warsaw, I realized my limit and understood that I couldn't pass it at that point in time.
Still, I couldn't just accept it and twiddle my thumbs. Like, come on, I couldn't let myself fall behind those with a larger capacity.
I mean, I really didn't want to disappoint Lord Heydrich.
To me, battles were never just about numbers. I didn't want that to end up being some pathetic excuse for when I lost, so I had to have a clear plan.
That was where Claudia came in. To put it simply, I decided to focus on quality instead of quantity.
There's nothing complicated about this. People were different. They looked different and had things they were good or bad at.
So, I figured the same thing applied to souls. Getting a bit of jet fuel was better than just stuffing your tank with some shitty oil, after all.
I wanted things likel efficiency, explosive power, density, and precision.
Let's assume it took a hundred shitty souls to get a night of bloodstained roses running at "one hundred" power. Now, imagine how great it'd be if I could use only a few percent of a single soul to create a night of bloodstained roses running at "one thousand."
Of course, high quality souls would probably take up capacity proportional to their quality. You're saying that'd effectively make capacity the most important thing again? Yeah, don't think that's the case.
Why? Adaptability. Familiarity. The soul's ability to dramatically change when I was the one wielding it.
Basically, I wanted a soul that either I could handle well or became something great for me alone. Those were the two patterns I predicted, but I figured the result would be more or less the same regardless.
That's how human relationships work, don't they? I'm probably the last woman who can say this, but to normal people, a stranger's life can't even compare to a family member's.
And that's basically what Claudia was. She fit both of the patterns I mentioned.
I defined her as a soul that was really damn compatible with me.
The reason for that? Intuition. Probably not something you'd take seriously, but it's pretty important. I trust my sense of smell.
Though, if you really want a reason, I guess I was sympathetic of her as a fellow albino.
There was one more thing, and, well...
It's pretty complicated, so let me talk about it in detail.