WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Ode of the Brave ◈

Chapter 74

──────

Night held something intoxicating, like rich wine.

Darkness, deserted streets, a strangely alluring sense of unease, soft moonlight. They quietly drew out the filthy desires hidden deep within people's hearts.

That was why many people became addicted to the night itself. Like nocturnal animals, they came alive only after dark.

The people heading to the performance hall called the Garden of Roses were that sort. They dressed formally and behaved politely, but their unsettling smiles carried a hint of impure desire.

And, oddly enough, they were all young, handsome, and beautiful. Even the oldest among them did not seem to be past their early twenties.

Ricart and Ice could blend in well enough among them, yet somehow felt out of place.

Their appearances were similar, but it felt as though they belonged to entirely different kinds. As if everyone would discover at any moment that they did not belong here.

Bright light greeted them as they entered the building. For a moment, it was easy to forget it was nighttime.

An usher, dressed as neatly as the audience, checked their invitations. Their skin was pale and their eyes blood-red. They looked as though they were openly announcing that they were a vampire.

But the others did not seem bothered. Perhaps they thought it was makeup, or simply part of the theme.

When Ricart handed over his invitation, the usher flashed their fangs in a grin.

“Welcome, traveler. I hope you enjoy the performance.”

Wearing a black cloak and top hat, Ricart lightly tipped his hat in greeting and acknowledgment.

Past the usher hung a curtain. When they pulled it aside and entered, deep darkness seemed to swallow the two of them.

Only a thin ray of light slipping through a gap in the curtain behind them barely lit the interior. It was a very large performance hall, but there were fewer seats for the audience than expected.

Groups that had arrived together sat far apart from one another, and the stage was hidden behind a curtain as if the performance were still being prepared.

Ricart and Ice took seats in a suitable spot and looked around. Then they heard smacking sounds in the darkness.

Wondering what people were eating, Ricart looked over and saw men and women making out all around them. He was beyond dumbfounded. His eyes went wide.

What was this? Were they animals?

Perhaps because he came from the conservative inland, Ricart was left speechless by the coastal city's open sexual culture. He even felt a measure of hostility toward it.

What surprised him even more was that men were doing it with men, and women with women.

“I think we came to the wrong place.”

Ice said it as if, aside from the request, he too felt this was not a place for them. Vampires did not frighten him, but this unfamiliar culture was hard to bear.

In an age when transport and communication were poorly developed, encountering another culture was little different from seeing aliens.

Even people from different parts of the north felt that way about one another. People from far-off places could only feel it more strongly.

The smacking sounds from every direction grew worse, until simply sitting there became uncomfortable.

Just as Ricart began to think they should really leave, the curtain hiding the stage opened.

Then a beautiful harp began to play.

The sound of fingers brushing the strings seized Ricart's attention at once. Special lanterns lit the stage from below.

Soon, a man in skin-tight clothes and a flower crown skipped out like a butterfly.

As if displaying his flawless figure, he struck several elegant poses before addressing the audience.

“When God created the world, there was Paradise in the beginning. Behold the man and woman who walk within Paradise.”

Then he skipped off the stage again.

A backdrop of wooden boards painted with grass and trees appeared. A male and female actor came out and began performing. The first man and the actors now onstage were all vampires.

They recited their lines with cries of “Oh, oh,” and the like. Anyone could tell it was a play depicting the holy scriptures. But could vampires really dare perform something like that?

Still, Ricart had never seen a play before, and the experience was both fresh and shocking.

The stage props were crude, and the dialogue followed a stiff form, yet Ricart felt as though he had traveled through time and witnessed the beginning of the world.

The vampires were putting their entire souls into their acting.

The play continued, and then a tremendous sound effect burst out, as though someone had struck a huge tray. It sounded like thunder exploding right in front of them.

KABOOOM!

“Gasp!”

“Eek!”

People sucked in sharp breaths, startled. Ricart, who had been completely absorbed in the play, flinched as well.

Then came the scene where the first man and woman learned of good and evil and were cast out of Paradise.

After that, as if to ease the audience's tension, an acrobatic act suddenly began.

A female vampire swung from a trapeze hanging from the high ceiling, swooping back and forth above the audience's heads. Then she leaped brilliantly onto the trapeze of someone swinging from the other side.

“Wow!”

“Oooh!”

The audience was completely captivated by the play and acrobatics. Ricart, however, grew bored during the acrobatic portion.

“They should just keep the play going. What is this supposed to be?”

“Ricky, don't forget our request.”

Ice cautioned him. Ricart nodded. He was not as mesmerized as the others, but he had to admit the play itself was impressive.

After the trapeze act ended, they tied the female vampire's limbs to a large wooden board. Then a dagger acrobat came out and began throwing daggers one after another.

The audience watched with bated breath as the daggers struck precisely beside her face and between her legs. Then the acrobat addressed the audience.

“Any volunteers?”

Ricart wondered who would volunteer for that, but people unexpectedly raised their hands from all around. Most were women.

“Me! Me!”

“Pick me, Adam!”

The vampire came down into the audience, chose one volunteer, and led her onto the stage. The audience applauded happily as the woman was tied to the wooden board.

A sharp dagger flew toward her.

One, two, three, and then...

Whoosh! Thunk!

One dagger pierced the woman's heart, driven in so deeply that only the hilt remained. The audience froze. The dagger acrobat made a playful, clownish face, as if to say, Oops.

Then, with a Rattle!, the entire wooden board flipped over, and the dagger that had been in her heart was nowhere to be seen. Only then did the audience relax and applaud.

“They switched the woman. Did you notice?”

Ricart spoke to Ice. The woman from before had truly died, and in an instant, another woman transformed into her had appeared. The newly revealed woman was a vampire.

The vampire led the woman back to the audience, and the man who had come with her did not seem to notice.

No, perhaps he knew and simply did not care.

Ricart realized it instinctively.

That man was a vampire slave.

Vampire slaves were humans who served vampires as their masters.

Then the female vampire now seated in the original woman's place looked back at Ricart and Ice with a grin. Her long fangs gleamed.

The dark performance hall should have made his blood run cold, but Ricart merely snorted and grinned back. His eyes sent a warning.

You could die.

The female vampire seemed surprised. Her smile vanished, and she tilted her head.

The play resumed afterward, but Ricart had lost interest after witnessing such vile deception.

The acting was worth watching, but it all felt fake now. They should have simply continued the play.

The first man and woman, cast out of Paradise, wandered through the desert and suffered many hardships before somehow settling down. They had children, Cain and Abel.

Then came the tragedy that truly divided humans and vampires.

“There was the first murder! It happened between brothers! Crush his head with a stone! A new world shall open!”

KABOOOM!

Another tremendous sound effect burst out. Then a man was dragged out from somewhere, looking utterly terrified.

The actor playing Cain roughly forced him down and truly began smashing his head with a stone.

Thud! Thwack! Thud!

It was not acting. It was an actual murder.

But the audience could not tell whether it was real or fake. No, they seemed to want to believe it was fake. Surely it could not really be real.

The man died in an instant. Vampires in black cloaks rushed in and freely tore into the fresh meat of his newly dead body.

It was happening openly onstage.

It was perfect deception.

Then, with a Puff!, smoke rose from behind the stage. A female vampire suddenly appeared.

She wore a very unusual outfit and was incredibly alluring.

Her skin was white as snow, her lips bright red, and the long slit in her dress revealed her long legs. Her full breasts and curving body rose and fell like hills in a field. Her hips swayed heavily from side to side with every step.

Ricart recognized her at once.

She was Leman's sister, Remania.

Wearing black gloves that reached her elbows, she held up a bright red apple and spoke to the audience.

“God gave us the wonderful gift of instinct. To suppress it is foolish. Restrain your appetite, shun lust, suppress your anger? No. Eat to your heart's content, violate to your heart's content, destroy to your heart's content. That is what it means to be most human. That is why we are all brothers and sisters.”

The curtain fell.

As if they had been waiting for it, the audience burst into applause. They stood and clapped amid cheers, without realizing the performers were vampires.

No, it did not truly matter whether they were vampires or not. They had enjoyed the performance and were more than satisfied. They fervently agreed with the words telling them to remain true to their instincts.

The blasphemous performance ended that way. The audience applauded for a long while, then began leaving one or two at a time.

But several people did not leave the hall and instead headed backstage. Ricart and Ice followed them.

Then, suddenly, a hand shot out of the darkness, grabbed Ricart by the collar, and pulled him close. A face drew near as if to kiss him.

It was the female vampire who had appeared onstage at the end.

Ironically, Ricart could feel the thick, cloying breath of a vampire whose heart had stopped.

But a drawn dagger was already pressed to the vampire's throat. If she had pulled him any closer, he might have slit her neck.

Remania smiled with satisfaction and released Ricart.

“You smell nice. I've never smelled anyone as fresh as you.”

Ice had not noticed Ricart disappear at first and only came over afterward.

They were in a dressing room. Remania walked over with a click of her heels and crossed one leg over the other in her chair. The slit in her dress was so deep that her sensual legs were revealed nearly up to her hips.

Ricart did not spare her a glance. He held the dagger gleaming in the light, then tucked it away beneath his black cloak.

As Ricart and Ice watched, Remania took out a long smoking pipe and put it to her lips. Around the time she exhaled smoke, a scream came from somewhere far away.

It was difficult to tell whether someone was crying or laughing.

“What happened to those people?”

“They're volunteers.”

“Volunteers for what?”

“People who wish to experience supreme pleasure or become vampires. We don't force anyone. That would not be elegant.”

“...”

“How is my dear old brother? Is he well?”

Remania seemed to know exactly why Ricart and Ice had come.

How remarkable. Did high vampires gain the ability to read people's minds?

“At least I liked him better than you.”

“You have unusual tastes.”

“The play was worth watching, but I didn't like the deception.”

“A play reflects reality. But conversely, if necessary, even reality can become part of a play.”

“Is that so? I don't care about that. Why did you invite us?”

Remania knew Ricart and Ice's purpose, but Ricart did not know hers. He only knew the “fact” that she had kidnapped his father.

Remania lazily exhaled smoke.

“Your pure blood. I won't devour you. I only need a little.”

“...Me? Him?”

Ricart did not seem to take the situation seriously at all as he asked whether she meant him or Ice.

“His face is pretty enough, but he is rotten inside. He smells foul. You are different. Your pure scent is what caught my attention. I smelled you from the moment you entered the city. Like the subtle fragrance of a flower spreading through a sewer. There was no way I could miss it.”

Unlike her brother, Remania could not see through to Ricart's previous life. But she seemed to sense traces of it through his scent.

“Why do you need my blood?”

“If even blood that smells like yours cannot stir my father, then I lose. Kill me or let me live as you please.”

Looking at her now, Remania seemed exhausted to the bone as well.

She had likely spent a long time trying to persuade, threaten, and use every possible method to make her starving father drink blood, but nothing appeared to work.

But there was one flaw in her offer.

“What if my blood does stir him?”

“Then you'll have to die.”

“You're honest. I like that.”

If Remania had tried to plot against him in some clumsy way, Ricart might have simply fought her. But since she had laid everything out openly, the choice now rested with him.

“I'll go alone.”

Ricart spoke to Ice. As expected, Ice shook his head.

Since telling him not to go would not make him listen, Ricart considered it alone.

When Remania's pipe was nearly burned out, he spoke again.

“I'll get my weapons and come back in the morning.”

“Fine.”

Ricart set his conditions, and Remania accepted them.

Ricart and Ice left the performance hall safely for the time being.

“She says you stink.”

Ricart spoke to Ice. The situation was tense and serious, but he seemed to be trying to lighten the mood.

“That woman smelled strongly of powder herself. Who is she to criticize anyone?”

“Her skin is already white. Why does she put on all that powder?”

“To hide her wrinkles, probably. She's an old hag, right?”

“Heh heh heh...”

Ricart and Ice badmouthed Remania as they returned to their lodging and gathered their equipment. Just in case, they brought Illya’s Holy Oil as well. Then they stayed awake through the night, waiting for morning.

When morning came, Ricart and Ice left the inn again.

Outside, the brilliant sunlight was sweeping away filthy desires. Such wicked things could not dare survive beneath that intense gaze.

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried

Loading...