WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 5: Carmilla’s Night (2)

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A rancid stench.

Humid air.

Dim surroundings, barely lit.

Filthy water trickled along like a stream.

A clown walked beside the sewer channel.

“Hmm hmm.”

A light hum.

As if I were heading out on a picnic, even my steps were brisk and light.

That innocent cheerfulness seemed bizarre against the bleak surroundings.

A smiling mask.

That was how I looked in the water’s reflection.

“Scary. So scary.”

I muttered aloud for no particular reason.

Just to shake off some of the dreary atmosphere.

Rustle, rustle.

I kept taking things out of my robe and putting them back in.

Items in every color imaginable, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.

“Phew, phew…”

It was a balloon.

As I blew air into it, the purple balloon stretched longer.

Once it was big enough, I held both ends and diligently tied them together.

In an instant, the balloon took the shape of a knife.

“Nice.”

A satisfying result.

I stored the finished work in my robe again.

After a few taps, the Balloon Knife was sucked inside.

[Robe of the Evil God]

-Number of stored items: 34/100

I already had more than thirty balloon creations.

There was quite a variety, too.

Knives, dogs, flowers, hearts…

If you were wondering why I’d suddenly taken up balloon art, there wasn’t any deep reason.

I was wearing a clown mask, after all. Shouldn’t I at least carry this much around?

‘It’ll be fun to hand these out to the students later.’

Grinning, I blew up another balloon.

I was obviously just killing time.

I was waiting.

For the event to draw closer, and for the right moment to arrive.

Rustle, rustle.

As I worked, I organized the original story in my head.

‘Carmilla…’

She was one of the supporting characters in the original.

She was also the last survivor of a vampire dynasty that had fallen in a coup.

The last princess.

‘She’d been betrayed by her uncle, hadn’t she?’

Her family and even her retainers had supposedly been massacred.

Was it all driven by her uncle’s ambition to seize the throne?

I checked the time.

‘Soon.’

Before long, Carmilla and the hunting dogs chasing her would pass through this sewer.

That was the moment I was after.

“Then…”

Phew, phew.

Still blowing up balloons, I melted into the darkness.

* * *

Deep in the sewers.

A place where filthy water, and things even filthier than that, gathered.

“Haah, haah…!”

Ragged breaths echoed through the passage.

Silver hair swayed, while red eyes flickered.

If the moon were steeped into tea and a heart laid atop it like a flower petal, would it be this color?

She was beautiful.

Even in this remote gutter, the girl was graceful.

Though she staggered as if she might wither away at any moment…

“Ugh…”

The girl was a wreck.

She was drenched in sweat and blood, and she limped on an injured leg.

It wouldn’t have been strange if she collapsed on the spot.

‘No… If I stop, they’ll catch up to me soon…’

The girl’s name was Carmilla Blandir.

She was the last survivor of the vampire dynasty.

She forced her injured leg forward.

Her vision blurred, cleared, then blurred again.

“Sniff… Sob…”

Tears ran down her pale cheeks.

It was another outpouring of despair, one she had lost count of.

Her father’s voice echoed in her ears again.

-You are the only hope.

-The only one who can set all of this right…

Words he had left behind like a final testament just before her uncle killed him.

-Run, my child.

Her tears wouldn’t stop.

Just then, as she forced herself to take another step,

Thwack!

“Kyahk…!”

Something pierced her leg.

Pain, as if she had been seared by fire.

It was a silver arrow.

Carmilla fell face-down onto the floor.

“Ah… Ugh…”

“Ha… Fuck, we finally caught her.”

As she curled up and groaned, several shadows fell over her.

Strangers in robes.

They stood armed with swords, bows, and other weapons.

They were the hunting dogs who had tracked Carmilla all this time.

Thud!

“Khak…!”

Without a word, they kicked her.

A hard kick struck Carmilla’s thigh, where the arrow was embedded.

The girl flinched and struggled.

“You rat bitch… You were so damn quick that we almost lost you…”

“Princess, why make this so troublesome? Would it kill you to die quietly?”

“Don’t let your guard down this time. We lost her before because we let our guard down.”

The assassins surrounded Carmilla.

The girl secretly moved her fingers.

Bloodcraft.

She gathered the blood she had spilled and formed it into a dagger.

She quietly aimed it at the assassins’ necks, but…

“What are you trying to pull?”

Crunch!

One of the assassins noticed and stopped her.

The girl’s fingers were brutally stomped beneath their boot.

There was no way to resist.

Her strength had reached its limit, and now her hands and feet had been bound as well.

“See? Who told you to talk about harmony?”

“Haah, haah…”

“Your father was the same. He got betrayed because he acted like a fucking idiot.”

“No… We can’t return to that barbaric age of war…”

“What the hell is she babbling about?”

“How dare you do this to me… to my people…”

She tried to bare her thorns, but they were already broken.

All she could buy from the assassins was mockery.

They punched her several more times.

“Vampires were born to eat humans. What fucking harmony are you talking about?”

“No… Cough. A peaceful world… We can live without killing…”

“Wow, you can still talk after getting beaten that badly?”

“I am the last… of Blandir. Something as trivial as violence…”

“This is getting boring. We need to finish up and get back already.”

Smack.

After slapping her once more, one assassin stepped back.

They signaled to those standing behind them.

In response, the strangers brought out a box.

“You brought that, right?”

“Of course. The new king personally ordered it.”

“Let’s get this over with. He specifically said we had to use this.”

A massive silhouette.

What they took from the box was a massive crossbow.

“…!”

Perhaps she recognized the weapon.

Carmilla’s red eyes widened.

‘The Godslaying Crossbow.’

A weapon made by weaving string and silver together, said to be capable of killing even gods.

The Blandir dynasty had preserved it for generations.

It was also the weapon that had ended her father’s life.

“You know what this is, more or less, right? You saw it during the royal purge.”

“You should consider yourself honored. The new king said we ought to show the former royal family some respect, so he had us prepare it.”

“It was a pain carrying this around. Do you know how heavy it is?”

The previous king.

Carmilla’s father had been among the strongest in the kingdom.

To inherit the throne, one needed martial strength worthy of it.

Yet even the previous king had been unable to withstand that weapon.

“Hey, everyone, back off. If you get caught in this, there won’t even be any bones left to collect.”

The bowstring was drawn.

What was loaded into the crossbow was no ordinary arrow.

Silver had to be polished with Divine Power for one hundred years, then left beneath sunlight for another hundred.

Two hundred years to make a single arrow.

Even veteran vampire craftsmen could barely make two in a lifetime.

‘A Stake.’

The crossbow was called the Godslaying Crossbow because it killed gods.

The arrow was called a Stake because it pierced souls.

It wasn’t only vampires.

There probably weren’t many living beings in this world that could withstand that strike.

‘Ah.’

Click.

The silver arrowhead was aimed at Carmilla.

The girl finally understood that she was about to die.

‘…I’m dying. This is how I die.’

She was afraid.

She didn’t want to die.

“I ultimately couldn’t do anything…”

The demons chuckled.

Faced with such despair, Carmilla finally let go of hope.

She gave up.

“Goodbye.”

“At least you won’t be lonely. Your whole family’s waiting for you in hell, aren’t they?”

Her eyes faced death.

She couldn’t bring herself to beg for her life.

She knew they wouldn’t listen anyway.

“…Kill me.”

“You don’t need to rush us. We’re sending you there now…!”

Click.

A finger pulled the trigger of the massive crossbow.

The stranger’s body was thrown back by the recoil.

A moment later, a thunderous blast rang out.

Kwoooong!

‘Father…’

The bowstring released the bolt, and the silver projectile flew free.

Something thicker than the girl’s waist surged toward her.

The scene slowed.

A single tear fell.

Just as she was about to accept death.

“Oh dear.”

Kwoooong!

Something stepped in before Carmilla’s eyes.

At the same time, an explosive sound shook the entire sewer.

“…?!”

It was clearly the silhouette of a person.

If someone had stepped into an impact like that, nothing but scraps of their insides should have remained.

Carmilla’s eyes trembled.

Was it a civilian?

Had there been someone in the sewers?

Thoughts crowded her mind.

But then.

What followed stopped even those thoughts.

Her red eyes stared blankly.

“Here you are, Princess.”

Limbs that were perfectly intact.

A suit without so much as a speck of dust, let alone any sign of being pierced or torn apart.

As the dust that had briefly swirled through the air settled, a boy came into view.

Black hair fluttered in the backdraft.

“Oh… Did something happen? Why is there so much dust?”

A mask covered his face.

A mask carved with a bizarre smile.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

He reacted as if he hadn’t even noticed the attack.

Behind that casual attitude was a voice brimming with amusement.

Light footsteps.

A leisureliness utterly unfitting for the situation.

The boy approached Carmilla.

“Carmilla Blandir.”

The clown called her name.

It was as though the assassins didn’t exist.

His eyes beyond the mask were fixed solely on the girl.

“I’ve come to escort you.”

The smiling mask.

A lingering chill licked at Carmilla’s nape and the assassins’ necks.

“Shall we go together?”

Only the boy’s voice echoed through the sewers.

Footnotes:

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