Chapter 88
I sat at the table, thoughtfully picking at my breakfast with my fork, my thoughts preoccupied with yesterday’s attack on Elvira. Some young bastards wanted to mess with our family’s vassal, and such things had to be nipped in the bud! Everyone needs to be reminded that enemies of the Hellsing family don’t live long.
Last year’s execution of the Rowley family was a great success, but somehow quickly faded into oblivion. So, a similar demonstration must be repeated. I’ll find out the names of Macmillan’s accomplices, and then I’ll send Victoria and the assault teams to visit the respected pureblood wizards. The fighters will get extra training, and the gene pool of Wizarding Britain will be cleaner. A deterrent campaign is absolutely necessary and must be as brutal as possible. Some will say that the families of underage rapists have nothing to do with it, and they’ll be completely wrong! The fault lies with these brats’ parents and other relatives—they raised them that way, which means everyone must be punished! And what’s the punishment for attempted rape? That’s right, death!
We could start right at Hogwarts, with Macmillan Jr. I haven’t decided yet, though: should I crucify that little bastard in the toilet or impale him in the castle courtyard, as a warning to the others, so to speak. True, I promised my mother and Dumbledore not to kill at school, but in this case, an exception can be made. No one will escape my righteous wrath, for I am the Maker’s avenging blade, and…
“Daughter, don’t worry about the championship,” my mother said warmly. “We discussed everything yesterday. Your opponents are much older and more experienced, so if you don’t take first place, it’s no big deal. You’re already in the semifinals, and I’m truly proud of you! You’re the youngest semifinalist in the last two hundred years! Please, don’t take unnecessary risks. Some trinket isn’t worth your life and health…”
– What does the championship have to do with this? – I looked up from my plate. – Last night, a mob of purebred bastards attacked Elvira! They tortured her and almost raped her!
“And they paid dearly for it. What Miss Smith did to them was worse than death.” Integra tilted her head to the side. “This situation wouldn’t have happened if Miss Smith hadn’t disobeyed your direct orders! As far as I know, the girl was offered an escort, but she refused. So, in this case, your friend bears most of the blame.”
– What do you mean? – I glared at my mother and almost jumped out of indignation. – She was attacked, and it’s her own fault?! What do you mean?!
“She forgot where she was?!” The blonde’s tone turned icy. “Ms. Smith decided to wander alone through Hogwarts at night, which is not on the outskirts of London, but on the territory of Wizarding Britain! Do I need to remind you that, according to its laws, your friend is a disenfranchised animal?! Moreover, the girl disobeyed your direct orders and completely forgot about vigilance!”
– They attacked a vassal of the Hellsing family. – I didn’t give up. – We need to make an example of the families of the offenders!
“Have you come up with a good reason yet? What should I tell Her Majesty?” Mom looked at me sternly. “The boys decided to have some fun with a mudblood, which is quite normal for Hogwarts, but they overestimated their strength. As a result, three pureblood wizards are worse than dead, and your friend is alive, well, and has retained her honor and dignity. Is that how it was?”
– Almost… – I looked stubbornly into the blue eyes. – Elvira was also badly hurt.
“Rigel Integra Hellsing!” Cold blue eyes looked at me. “You are the heir to the sacred Hellsing family! You are the future Baroness and the future head of the Order of Protestant Knights! And yet you act like a brainless stormtrooper with three concussions who got a job as a bouncer in a third-rate bar that doubles as a brothel!”
– What do you mean? – I looked at my mother in confusion. – I just want to punish those who offended my friend!
“Those who offended your vassal have already been punished! And you propose sending our warriors into the territory of a neighboring state and staging a bloody massacre there!” The woman’s voice was very stern. “You understand that this is a direct violation of the Treaty, which could lead to war with Magical Britain?”
– But… – I looked questioningly into the blue eyes. – When last year…
“Last year, wizards tried to kill the heir to the sacred Hellsing family! Have you forgotten? The Rowley family meticulously plotted the assassination of a member of the British Empire’s highest aristocracy! They were the first to break the Treaty, and they paid for it!” Mom slammed her palm on the table. “And yesterday, a group of horny boys decided to bully your friend. Those are two completely different things! You should always think about the consequences and prioritize.”
“But this is wrong!” I muttered in response. “This must not happen again!”
“Daughter, you’re no longer a child. You’ve completed the Accolade and become a Holy Knight. Once initiated, all your thoughts and actions must be in the interests of the Anglican Church and the British Empire.” Mother’s tone softened. “It’s not always possible to use force, especially on foreign soil. Besides, Her Majesty and the Archbishop won’t give the go-ahead for a punitive operation; you know why.”
“Elvira is our vassal and a powerful sorceress, but she’s just an orphan without a family. Besides, no one tried to kill her…” I nodded reluctantly. “It’s not worth ruining our already strained relations with the wizards for that.”
“That’s right, I’m glad you understand that.” The woman nodded. “Besides, you forgot one important fact.”
– Which one? – I looked nervously at the serious baroness.
“Miss Smith snapped and lost control of her abilities, resulting in the Shadow Architect being summoned from beyond the brink into our world.” The blonde’s voice grew very quiet. “You know very well what awaits a necromage who has gone rogue. If the wizards prove Miss Smith’s involvement in the breakthrough, you will have to kill her. Personally!”
“It’s not her fault!” I looked stubbornly at the woman. “She was attacked, and she defended herself!”
“That’s no excuse! A necromage is always obligated to control his abilities, and you know perfectly well why.” I nodded silently in response. “Let me remind you that this delicate situation arose due to Miss Smith, who brazenly disobeyed her liege lord’s direct orders, for which she must be punished. I think twenty lashes would be sufficient.”
– What? – I even jumped up from my seat. – But you can’t do that, she’s already been hit hard enough.
“But someone has to be punished, right?” Mom sighed sadly. “Perhaps the girl’s irresponsible behavior is the girl’s overlord’s fault? Or should the punishment be divided equally?”
– Um… – I silently plopped down in my seat.
– Let’s discuss this issue in the evening, okay?
“I agree,” I answered quietly and involuntarily scratched my butt.
– Daughter, please listen to me very carefully. Rigel, I am very proud of you and I love you. – I felt that my mother was speaking with complete sincerity. – But sometimes you forget yourself and behave extremely inappropriately. You are not an ordinary schoolgirl, you are my heir, and you must think accordingly, on a more global scale. You must understand that your every action has consequences, not only for the Empire and the Anglican Church, but also for the well-being of our family. I repeat: Every. Your. Action. And decision! – The last words were spoken in a calm, but icy tone.
– Yes, Mom. – I looked down guiltily. – It’s just…
“I understand everything.” A warm smile appeared on the woman’s face. “Try to be more restrained and reasonable in the future. You’re good at it, I know it.”
“Okay.” I smiled back. “I won’t let you down.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Mom nodded contentedly. “Now get those silly thoughts out of your head and focus on breakfast. You’ve got a tough day ahead.”
Nodding silently, I picked up my cutlery and continued eating. Chewing silently, I considered my mother’s words, and in my head I knew she was right, but in my heart… Damn, these purebred bastards piss me off so much, and I want to burn them all to the stake! But I can’t, not yet… Which means I need to find a more substantial reason for a full-fledged invasion, and I think I even had an idea, but I’ll think about it later, after I win the championship.
***
The draw went quite well. Probably. Maybe. At least I didn’t have to wait long, since I’ll have to fight Sossoni for a place in the final. And I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that the Italian is carried out of the Arena in a body bag. Accordingly, France will be fighting Malta. Or rather, they were already fighting, and I sat calmly in a soft chair and watched. True, my hateful gaze periodically slid to the filthy noodle, but that didn’t stop me from admiring the beautiful veela and the handsome black-haired man, twirling in a deadly dance.
The duel between the two boys was short-lived, and Matteo somehow managed to catch Fleur, while I was just staring at the satisfied Italian. Nasty. When I turned around, the tip of the Maltese’s long, heavy sword was right between the Frenchwoman’s mounds, ripping her jacket and scratching her skin. Delacour was breathing heavily, her chest rising in time with her breathing, while her opponent stood opposite, tightly gripping the hilt of his blade. A moment later, the clang of metal echoed across the arena—the Veela’s sword fell to the stone floor. The girl understood the situation and accepted her defeat gracefully, to which the Maltese nodded politely and also lowered his weapon.
And then thunder struck; I can’t describe the howls of the enraged crowd in any other way. Most of the spectators were French, and they were extremely upset by the defeat of their champion. Bib and Bob added fuel to the fire, the two commentators shouting insults at the guy and trying to support the veela, but it was having the opposite effect. At one point, a bottle flew into the commentary booth, then a chair, and then everything within reach of the audience. The culmination of this outrage was a huge barrel of something brown and smelly, but it missed its mark and exploded right over the VIP seats.
During this farce, Fleur Delacour and her opponent, Matteo Cassar, calmly descended from the platform and disappeared beneath the spectator stands. Unfortunately, I couldn’t indulge in such a delight, and for about half an hour I watched the Aurors attempt to calm the rioting crowd. The wizards had no riot police, no special equipment like tear gas or water cannons, but they could quickly summon rain! A powerful downpour blanketed the Arena for about five minutes, and after another twenty minutes, the signal sounded for me to take the platform.
“Psst… Sister, don’t worry,” Victoria winked at me. “If anything happens, I’m nearby, in the shadows. I can hold this guy’s legs from there… Ouch!” Mom twisted the restless vampire’s ear and pulled it toward herself.
“Daughter, don’t listen to her, you deserve a fair fight.” The woman smiled warmly. “You’ve trained for a long time and you must win. I believe in you.”
“Thank you.” I kissed both women on the cheeks and ran to the platform.
Stepping onto the stone arena, I once again looked my opponent over from head to toe. He was short and skinny, with thick black hair and a sparse mustache on a tanned, arrogant face. He wore a tight-fitting suit of acromantula silk and soft-soled dragonhide boots. The Italian’s brown eyes regarded me with disdain and superiority, and his voice reeked of anticipation and bloodlust.
I didn’t let up, and I hated that bastard with every fiber of my being. The Italian became the epitome of the ideal pureblood heir for me: cruel, sadistic, and treating everyone else like dirt. At Hogwarts, it was people like him who bullied first-generation wizards, or, as they say, Muggle-borns. Everyone had become accustomed to this expression; it was even enshrined in law, which is very telling. After all, “muggle” is a close-sounding or derivative word for “muggle.” (Author’s note: mud or muck translates as damp or vile dirt.) That’s what purebloods called the children of mundanes, literally “mud-born” or “born of mud.”
And now I’m going to shove this purebred asshole’s face into the mud and drown him there, all my rage and resentment focused on the Italian champion. I’d worked myself up to such a pitch that as I approached the center of the stage, sparks were sparkling in my hair, and everyone around me was moving very slowly. It seemed I’d just voluntarily (well, almost) entered fight mode. I grinned predatorily and turned toward the referee. A gray-haired old man handed us our blades and began chanting something. I didn’t hear him, nor the screaming commentators or the spectators in the stands. My entire body turned into a coiled spring, and I awaited the signal to begin the fight, gripping the hilt of my sword until my knuckles turned white.
The referee stepped aside, and Sossoni, aiming the tip of his blade at my heart, lunged forward, and the signal hadn’t even been given yet! I barely managed to move my body and, as if in slow motion, watched as his blade sliced through my tracksuit and the skin around my chest. At that moment, the signal sounded for the fight to begin. I dodged the thrust, but missed the elbow to my neck. The serve wasn’t powerful, and I managed to recover in time to dodge his blade again. This time he was aiming for my throat, and I had to duck and then quickly move to the side. Otherwise, my face would have met the toes of his expensive boots. Even in combat mode, I could barely keep up with the Italian; he moved very quickly and acted extremely sneakily. Oh well, I’d been taught to play by the rules, too.
Spitting, I lunged forward and swung my blade with a sweeping motion. Sossoni had to jump and perform acrobatic feats, otherwise he would have lost his legs. While the Italian monkey was writhing in the air, I jerked into a stance. Now we’ll play, you little brat. You’ll answer to me for Borya, and for Elvira, and for the fact that I can’t yet burn the Magic World in righteous flame.
“Sporco puttana!” my opponent hissed. I don’t speak Italian, but I’m sure it was something offensive. (Author’s note: sporco puttana translates from Italian as “dirty whore”)
I didn’t reply and lunged forward, Sossoni meeting my blade with a hard block. Our blades were almost identical, the Italian’s broadsword even a couple of centimeters shorter. It wasn’t much of an advantage, but habit was more important here—Mom wields the same kind of club. As soon as our blades touched, I jumped back sharply because the jerk tried to hit me with his knee, and a huge spike was sticking out of his kneepad! What the hell is that?! Judge, hello, are you trying to hit me in the balls?! I quickly spun on the spot and lunged again, a lightning-fast attack that the cunning Italian didn’t expect. My blade grazed the edge of his right side, ripping his clothes and leaving a shallow cut. I didn’t even think about stopping and, with all my strength, hit him in the solar plexus. It felt like my left leg was going through a very dense jelly-like mass rather than air, but it was worth it – Sossoni was thrown back a couple of meters.
But it was too early to rejoice; I thought I heard my kneecap crack, and a stabbing pain shot through my leg. My conclusion: either the Italian had abs made of adamantium, or he had enchanted protection under his clothes; the latter sounded more plausible. That’s probably why my opponent recovered almost instantly and launched a blow, which I then blocked with a firm block. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sossoni make a barely perceptible movement with his thumb, and two blades shot out from the center of his blade. I barely managed to jerk my head back, but the tip of my nose still landed on the stone floor, followed by my body. Distracted, I missed a kick, but managed to roll to the side in time. Where my head had been, the blade of an Italian trident graced the spot. I was able to twist and kick, and while the enemy was recovering, I jumped into a vertical position.
Fuck, this Sossoni is full of surprises, I need to think of something, I don’t intend to lose to this purebred asshole. The Italian spat angrily and went on the attack again, our blades sparking as they met again, and then again and again, the most furious stage of our fleeting fight began. The air around me thickened, I heard nothing but the clang of metal, and before me was my opponent’s concentrated face. He, too, realized that the jokes were over and fought with all his might; we were practically evenly matched.
At one point, he repeated his trident trick again and managed to parry my blow, and the next moment I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Looking down, I saw the blade of his broadsword protruding from my chest, but I only smirked and took a step forward. The sharp metal cut through my flesh like a hot knife through melted butter, and the pain began to blur my vision, but Sossoni’s vile face was already there. My opponent had made a fatal mistake—his weapon was stuck in my body. He should have released the hilt and stepped back, but the idiot chose to admire my agony. I wasn’t afraid of pain or death; I’d been through all that before. So I watched with pleasure as the mockery in his eyes gave way to fear. Vincenzo realized his mistake, but it was too late.
My body began to weaken, every movement a source of unbearable pain, but that didn’t stop me from plunging my blade into my opponent’s chin. With a sickening slurp, the blade emerged from the Italian’s head. I noticed shreds of white brain matter at the tip, and a satisfied smile spread across my face. Sossoni’s grip loosened, and his gaze began to glaze over, but that wasn’t enough! With the last of my strength, I gripped the hilt of the broadsword with both hands and twisted the blade. The crunching sound was repeated, and the amount of bloody shreds around me increased.
Unable to bear the weight, I dropped my arms, and at the same time, my opponent collapsed onto the arena like a sack of shit. My ears were ringing, my vision was blurring, and breathing was becoming increasingly difficult… And then the stone floor of the platform suddenly rose up and slammed me in the face. It was a shame, my sweet face would get another bruise.
– Get out of the way! Her heart is punctured and her lung is torn! Louis, you need to grow that idiot’s nose! – These were the last words I heard before I lost consciousness.
***
– Kshi-shi-shi… – The mocking laughter of a thousand voices sounded in my ears, and I opened my eyes, but all around was impenetrable darkness, which, it seemed, I could touch with my hands. – Kshi-shi-shi…
– Stop laughing! – I shouted back. – Listen, come here!
“You’re brave, I love girls like you…” Alyoshka’s caustic voice rang out in the ensuing silence. “You’ve amused me once again…”
– It’s not you… – I swallowed the lump that had appeared in my throat, only now did I realize that I was terribly cold. – Don’t you dare use his voice!
My beloved never spoke to me in such a tone, I never heard sarcasm or mockery from his lips. I remember it clearly and will never forget it!
“That’s not a fact… Kshi-shi-shi…” Alyoshka’s cheerful voice sounded in my head. “Never say never, mortal…”
– Who are you? – I screamed into the darkness.
– You know… Kshi-shi-shi…
– Name yourself, I told you to!
– Otherwise what? Kshi-shi-shi…
“I’ll find you and kill you slowly and painfully! And don’t you dare use his voice!”
– You used to like him… Remember, you were standing under the canopy of a shabby entrance, and he whispered in your ear for the first time: I love you, kitten . – The last words sounded in my head, and I barely held back tears of despair. – And then your first kiss happened… And then he died, because of you! You are to blame for his death! You! And no one else!
– Shut up! It’s not my fault! – I screamed into the darkness. – He died in that damned war!
“He died because of your letter… Do you remember what you wrote to him? Kshi-shi-shi…” A maddening, polyphonic laughter erupted all around. “A brave warrior, sitting in a trench, received a tearful message from the lady of his heart… You, sobbing, wrote that you were dishonored and did not want to live… So pathetic and insignificant… Why did he have to come back? It was you who killed him… That scrap of paper, soaked in bitter tears of despair…”
– Shut up, bitch! – I spun around and began to peer into the impenetrable darkness. – Where are you? I’ll strangle you with my bare hands!
“I’m in your heart… kshi-shi-shi…” The voice of my beloved came from the right. “Accept me and I will resurrect him… And you will always be together…”
– Go fuck yourself!
“I wasn’t wrong about you… Kshi-shi-shi… Strong and stubborn, but that’s okay…” The voice changed to a feminine, rather pleasant one. “I’ll wait… I know how to wait… See you later, Elena-Rigel…”
– Are you running away already? – I screamed at the top of my lungs. – Cowardly creature!
“ Don’t rush to die, kitten,” Alyoshka’s voice rang out in my head, and it was as if I was kicked into the light.
***
– Cough-cough-cough… – I closed my eyes from the bright sun, and the sound of a cheering crowd hit my ears. – Fuck… What was that?
“Everything’s fine, the internal organs have been restored.” I turned around and saw Maria Chernaya smiling. “Louis, how are things going?”
“Everything is fine.” Someone touched the tip of my nose, and I instinctively hit him on the hand. “Mademoiselle, no need to be rude, I am a mediwitch.”
“Sorry,” I turned around and apologized to the gray-haired man in a lime robe.
“Don’t apologize, girl, that slowpoke never found the tip of your nose,” my great-aunt said cheerfully. “I had to grow it out again. How are you feeling?”
– Fine, I guess… – I automatically felt my body and my hands lingered on my bare chest, and then I slowly looked around. – Fuck…
Now I understand why the crowd is so wildly cheering. Besides the bloody spectacle, I gave them a free striptease! What a bunch of bastards! They could have at least moved my body aside! Surely not in front of everyone?! I’m a girl without complexes, of course, and there’s nothing to see there yet, but it’s still unpleasant.
– Don’t swear! – Wham! I got a slap on the back of the head from Maria. – Every second counted, I had to regrow your heart while Adolf was repairing his punctured lung! And don’t worry, no one but us saw your modest charms.
“My name is Ulrich!” shouted a short, dark-haired mediwitch with a brush moustache. “Frau Black, how much longer can you take this?!”
“Until you shave that filth under your nose!” my great-aunt snapped. “Here we go, Charlie Chaplin fan.”
“Thank you all,” I said, smiling at the masters of magical medicine. “For everything…”
“That’s our job, Fraulein,” Adolf-Ulrich waved his wand, restoring my clothes. “Get up, you need a little rest before the final duel.”
Having risen without assistance, I quickly examined the platform, but Sossoni’s corpse was already gone—while I lay unconscious and dreaming this strange dream, they had managed to remove it. Or maybe it wasn’t a dream? No, it was some kind of nonsense, of course it was a dream! My brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen, so I had this stupid hallucination. It was just hallucinations, period!
Calming myself down, I quickly descended from the platform and immediately fell into the tight embrace of my mother and Victoria. Both women were very worried and overjoyed to see me alive and well. Maria soon joined us, bringing a basket of food. I was overjoyed at the gift and, having escaped the vampire’s clutches, pounced on the food, incredibly hungry. While I washed down the meat and sausage with sweet tea, these three furies unanimously scolded me for my suicidal tendencies and recklessness. In some ways, they were probably right, but the process of bringing me to my senses was lackluster, more for show. And the emotions of my dear relatives were filled with pride and relief.
Having had my fill and hugged my family once more, I headed back to the platform for the final fight. This time, my opponent was Matteo Cassar, the champion of Malta, for whom I had genuine respect. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and dark gray eyes, his face, with its regular, aristocratic features, was composed and serious. I, too, pushed aside extraneous thoughts and focused on victory. Victory, not murder, was precisely what I wanted. I wished no harm on Matteo, nor did he on me; my empathy told me so clearly.
Meeting each other’s gaze in the center of the arena, we bowed in unison, then listened to the referee’s instructions and froze. The signal to begin the duel sounded very loudly, but we remained motionless and continued to watch each other closely. My opponent had several advantages: taller height, longer arms, and a strangely elongated blade. The Maltese clutched something resembling a musketeer’s sword, except that in the classic version, a slender and flexible blade is designed for precise thrusting. This monster, however, was very similar to a ski in its geometry and clearly had a double-edged edge. Therefore, I needed to be extremely careful and attentive.
Matteo was the first to move and began slowly circling me, and I mirrored his movements. After three circles, we began testing each other’s defenses. I lunged first, but my blade was met with a firm block. I immediately jumped back as far as I could and barely managed to avoid a thrust to the stomach. I had no intention of displaying the richness of my inner world to the public any longer. A turn, and the Maltese was already dodging the blade of my broadsword. How did he manage to bend like that?! Grinning, I lunged forward…
I can’t say how long our deadly dance lasted—perhaps half an hour, perhaps a couple of minutes—but it brought me genuine pleasure. My mind went completely blank; I saw before me only an equal, honorable opponent and the blade in his hands. My broadsword cut through the air with its characteristic hum, striking bright sparks as it met the Maltese’s. I spent most of the time defending myself, only occasionally making timid attempts to counterattack, and this tactic bore fruit!
After parrying another blow, I noticed Matteo was sweating heavily, his breathing was a bit ragged, and his movements had become jerky. He was starting to run out of breath, which was understandable—he was waving his reinforced sword like a windmill. So I had to hurry! If my opponent deliberately went on the defensive, I would definitely lose. I lunged forward and, in mid-air, delivered a powerful downward strike. The Maltese was a bit taken aback by such impudence, but managed to block it firmly. Without giving him time to recover, I began delivering blow after blow, alternating thrusts and slashes.
Soon Matteo’s clothes were soaked in blood, and I managed to catch his right shoulder and slice his back. My opponent, breathing heavily, took an uncertain step back, and I, crouching, made a swift dash forward! Just a little more, and I’d defeat this handsome man. Wait, why is he smiling? Your…
I accelerated to maximum speed and simply didn’t have time to brake or dodge. The man, barely able to stand a second ago, suddenly came to life, took a sharp step to the side at the last moment, and half-turned. Out of the corner of my eye, as if in slow motion, I saw his monstrous blade descend on my outstretched hands. Then I heard the sound of air being cut, and bright scarlet liquid sprayed everywhere, and then my broadsword slowly flew to the stone floor of the arena. My severed hands still tightly gripped the hilt of the blade.
My body coordination failed, and I started to fall, but someone’s strong hand grabbed my shoulder and helped me stay on my feet. I emerged from the deadly dance and looked at the tired but satisfied face of my opponent. He won, that bastard outsmarted me! Caught me like a snotty little girl! I tried my best, but I still lost! Damn, I need to keep my cool, especially since second place is still a result, so they say? Who was the second person to go into space? Gagarin was the first, and who came after him? Who reminds me?
– Bitch… How much… Sooooo painful… – I was distracted from my sad thoughts by a burning pain in my hands, or rather, their absence. – Why did you have to chop them both off?! You beast…
I raised my stumps to eye level, causing hot blood to splash across my face. I wanted to say so much to the Maltese, but a trio of Healers arrived. To the joyful cries of the cheering crowd, they quickly reattached my hands, leaving no scars. I adore magical medicine! While I was in the hands of Hippocrates’ servants, I reflected on my defeat, and after thinking about it, I calmed down a bit. Yes, I have talent, but I’m only twelve years old! I reached the finals of the international championship and lost to a guy five years my senior. And I also killed Sossoni, and the memory of it brought a satisfied smile to my face. The resentment subsided a little, and a desire for revenge emerged. I won’t throw a tantrum, but will continue training, and next time I will win. What should I cut off so that he won’t be so upset?
The guy turned out to be quite noble and stood by my side the whole time, and when I looked contentedly at my palms, he handed me my broadsword. I took the blade and nodded politely, and the Maltese did the same.
“Thank you, Miss Hellsing.” The handsome man grinned widely. “Your skills are admirable.”
“You weren’t bad either.” I smiled back. “I’ll demand a rematch soon.”
“I look forward to our next duel.” The Maltese leaned over and politely took my hand, then kissed the air above my sweaty, blood-stained palm. “See you soon.”
“See you later.” I winked at the winner and quickly walked towards my family.
“I’m proud of you, daughter.” As soon as I stepped down from the platform, I found myself in my mother’s tight embrace. “I never doubted you!”
“My little sister is the best!” Victoria joined in the hug, and my ribs cracked from such a display of love. “You’ll show everyone yet, we believe in you!”
“Strangle me!” That was all I could squeak out in response, but the women had no intention of letting me go.
After what felt like an eternity, just as I was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel and mentally preparing myself for a meeting with the Creator, my grip weakened. Loud cries of pain and despair in the distance were to blame, and then I noticed a figure towering over the crowd, moving towards us with the inexorability of a nuclear icebreaker. Local law enforcement officers tried to stop this monster, but it brushed them off as if they were annoying flies. The broken bodies of the Aurors flew in all directions, but at least they were alive! And that’s a rarity, as the sadism and cruelty of the Vatican’s chief inquisitor have become the stuff of legend.
Soon, Alexander Anderson stood before us, grinning insolently, and Ludo Bagman peered out from behind him, happy as a fool on a carousel. The latter was understandable, but what was this big guy doing here?! Was he watching the competition? No way.
“Congratulations, child of vice,” the Inquisitor grinned humorously. “Your skills aren’t impressive, of course, but watching you kill the atheists was a pleasure.”
– Thanks, Daddy. – I smiled slyly in response. – Then to an ice cream parlor or an amusement park?
Anderson choked and burst into loud laughter, and was joined by a British official whose suit today was yellow-speckled, making him look like an overweight ladybug.
“After the award ceremony, go home!” the Inquisitor sternly threatened me with his finger. “You go to the damned islands, and I to the Holy Land. Integra, look after your fruit of fornication and sin.”
“What are you doing here?” Mom looked questioningly at the big guy. “I thought you were only attracted to the sight of cruel torture and the brutal murder of innocents.”
“And this is said by a harlot who serves a false faith.” Anderson grinned and placed his paw on Bagman’s shoulder. “At the airport, that fool slipped me a ticket to a show. How could I miss a spectacle of atheists killing each other?”
“I waited for Alex and led him through all the security posts!” Ludo’s smile widened into a childish, naive smile. “We’re friends now, right, Alex?”
“Of course, of course.” The big man patted his “friend” on the shoulder and turned to our group. “Okay, I have to go. Goodbye, your disgusting faces will always disgust me.”
– Likewise. – Mom nodded in response. – I hope you die soon.
– Bye, Daddy. – I waved my bloody hand with a sweet smile. – See you later!
Anderson spat at this with a grin and moved in the opposite direction, and this time the crowd respectfully dispersed to the sides.
“I’ll be there in time for the awards ceremony, but in the meantime, entertain the press!” Bagman handed Victoria a notebook and trotted after the inquisitor. “Alex, my friend, wait! I promised to see you off!”
“What nonsense…” Victoria muttered, watching the departing couple. “Maybe Anderson’s gone crazy? He’s broken?”
“I don’t know, sometimes I…” Mom didn’t have time to finish, as we were surrounded by a crowd of vultures, pardon me, journalists.
I instinctively hid behind the vampire’s fragile-looking back, and Walter came to Mom’s defense, but it was of little help. The reporters were tireless, eager to hear the secret to the success of the youngest debutante and finalist in the last two hundred and fifty years. And then there was the awards ceremony and the gala reception. Lord, give me strength… Maybe I should run after Daddy and Bagman?
***
Integra looked with a guilty smile at her daughter, who was sleeping sweetly, naked and on her stomach. Rigel’s hair was disheveled, and a sweet, kind smile graced her lips. The girl’s arms and legs were spread out like a starfish, and her back was streaked with bright red stripes, clearly visible in the moonlight.
“She didn’t let her friend get flogged after all.” A muscular man, wearing only dark red trousers, appeared behind Lady Hellsing. “The daughter took responsibility for a negligent vassal. Commendable…”
“I take no pleasure in punishing my own daughter.” The woman took a step back, her back pressing against his sculpted chest, and then she looked into his scarlet eyes. “Am I a bad mother?”
“Don’t talk nonsense.” The vampire hugged his mistress and inhaled the scent of her hair. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have spanked her half-heartedly. Besides, you’re very similar, both in appearance and character. You make the same mistakes…”
– For example? – Integra turned around and felt hot breath near her lips. – Speak.
“Remember
“I was only fifteen then, and I was furious.” Integra pressed herself against the ancient guardian. “I don’t want her to repeat my mistakes…”
“She’ll make plenty of her own, that’s just the way people are.” The vampire hugged the woman and, smiling, ran one hand over her athletic bottom. “That was your last spanking…”
“I remembered…” The blonde muttered resentfully and lightly hit the man on his sculpted chest. “Forty lashes with a salt-water-soaked rod. Upon returning to London, Her Majesty personally flogged me.” She drawled pitifully. “It was huuuurt.”
“I’m telling you, you’re so similar, so hot-tempered and yet so vulnerable.” Her scarlet and blue eyes met. “Come on, I’ll take pity on you…”
Integra and Alucard’s lips met in a tender kiss, and a moment later they left their daughter’s room.
