Wrought King of Iron

Chapter 35: White Knight Blood (III)

'Surprise after the next after the next! You have some of the most unorthodox methods of fighting I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with!'

The vampire count was leaning over my body, staring down at me as I stood up. His darkened face caused by the rays of light blocked by his back, seemed to lack the earlier killing intent in his expression, so I swung my sword quite carelessly at him in order to make him jump back. Rather compliantly, he took a step back and I stood up to face him on even ground.

'Speaking of unorthodox, you are quite the unusual one yourself. I had you pinned as a lawless pirate of the seas, but I see you much more now as a just as lawless nautical soldier.' I responded to him,  as we started slowly walking around in circles around the centre of the deck.

'You're half-right, I guess. The lawless part is incorrect, but indeed I was the captain of a fleet of ships some four hundred years ago.'

Searching frantically for an opening, I engaged in menial conversation.
'Hmmm? Seems rather contradictory, no? Unless you counted incorrectly, that far back didn't find cutlasses in use very much. I can't tell so much with guns, but those swords aren't of that time.'

'You think yourself a historian? Proficient in the knowledge of the forgery of swords? Well, I guess you have exposed me in that regard. While its true that I sailed the seas at the time aforementioned, I found myself wanting to... upgrade, later on. Why continue to use those weapons when far superior ones were crafted following shortly? Loyalty to the outdated shan't outweigh my loyalty to power. I ultimately settled on the weapons you saw, to be the most fitting for me, as I wasn't so proficient with others.'

Though I didn't want to admit it, in a way, he was like me. Using weapons not of his own; valuing utility and combat above all else.

'I guess we're both fakers in some regard. I can't exactly admonish you for casting aside your age's weapons, considering your immortality. But to a warrior like yourself, is the blade they wield not their identity, at least on the battlefield?'

He suddenly stopped.

'Shut up...' He was angry for some reason.
'Don't open that mouth of yours again! You say I'm fake? That I have no identity? Wrong, wrong, wrong, WRONG! You're sorely mistake, human! Identity means absolutely nothing! Truth doesn't exist! In the end, its all about how others perceive you! I built a persona from the ground up, rose to the position of captain of the English Fleet, and garnered the love and respect of all. It didn't need to be real! It couldn't have been in the first place! I'm a vampire after all! I can't be real to anyone!'

And so is the flaw of a vampire's existence. If they wanted to integrate into human society, their only option would be to create a façade. True immortality is unfathomable to those lacking it, including me, and so the ones destined to live forever must come and go, changing with the wind so not to cast suspicion.

'Svelten, enough talk. I'll shatter every wall you put up and expose your true self. I'm sure its nothing short of a malevolent monster.'

Abruptly, the moment I finished my sentence, he disappeared. His speed was too great for me to grasp its scale, so it looked to me as if he was there, and then not.

From behind, I could sense a strike coming. His speed had greatly increased compared to before, and the only way to survive his flurry of blows was to dodge with all my ability.

Indiscriminately, yet with enough force to obliterate my very being, each thrust and slash of the blade was backed with his utmost anger and killing intent. He just wanted to kill me at this point. Though, he always did, but before he wanted to do it in a more sadistic way.