—
Waiting in the dim light of the wee hours, Gustave climbed down from his maid and walked to the front door of the barbershop. Even though his [Knowledge] showed that Regis wasn't inside, he didn't leave—knowing there was a high chance his ability might be invalid.
After all, a higher vampire was essentially immune to some, if not all, forms of mystical detection. That's why, even though his [Knowledge] suggested Regis wasn't present, Gustave still knocked on the door, waiting for the bat-like benefactor to respond.
"A moment, please… Now that is interesting."
Waiting silently for Regis to open the door, Gustave began to rack his brain over how he should act upon meeting him—how to express his gratitude without arousing suspicion about his true nature. But it seemed his worry was not unfounded, for Regis had long been aware of his identity.
"Ah, my sincerest apologies for my rather unceremonious departure earlier. Vanishing without so much as a word—quite discourteous of me. I must admit, I hadn't realized your kind were capable of perceiving our traces. So, once again, forgive my lapse in manners, my dear young man. I assure you, no slight was intended. It's simply that… well, that scent of yours is rather difficult to disregard."
Each word—"young man," "your kind," "your scent"—struck Gustave like a bolt of lightning. The first, "young man," rather than "little one," already revealed that the vampire knew his true age.
The second, "your kind," instead of "you humans," implied that Regis recognized Beyonders as something more than ordinary mortals—perhaps even a distinct race altogether.
And the third, "your scent," confirmed through his [Knowledge] that Regis could perceive his state of mind—the madness that had seeped into his blood.
Reeling from this revelation, Gustave couldn't help but blurt out, "H-how did you know me?"
Now it was Regis's turn to look confused. He couldn't quite grasp why the young man seemed so startled that his identity had been uncovered—especially since both of them possessed similar abilities.
If he were to put it into words, it was as if the youth harbored a deep paranoia about having his true nature exposed, perhaps due to the peculiar circumstances of his existence.
With genuine perplexity, Regis returned the logic:
"The same, I believe, could be said of you."
"Pray, tell me—how did you come to recognize me? It is curious, for I left no discernible trace upon boarding the ship earlier. The only remnants of my presence reside in the minds of your maids. Thus the explanation, I suspect, lies within the peculiar gifts inherent to our respective kinds."
He took a slow breath, as though savoring the thought. "Just as I can perceive the truth of you—an adult mind encased within the fragile vessel of a child—through the scent of your blood."
"A most fascinating phenomenon, truly: to be reborn in an entirely new form, yet retain one's own spirituality."
"Likewise," he continued, his tone soft but assured, "I imagine you identified me through some manner of focused, purpose-bound sorcery. There is, therefore, little cause for surprise on either side."
He folded his hands behind his back, posture relaxed. "After all, as fellow accidents of interwoven worlds—unintended guests born of Conjunction—it is only natural that we should each bear gifts unique to our origins. Though I must admit, I find myself wondering… why did your kind arrive so late?"
Shivering under Regis's inquisitive gaze—not out of fear or malice, but from the chilling realization that, with a single interaction, the vampire had deduced nearly everything about him—Gustave found his tongue tied upon meeting a truly natural-born genius.
Moreover, unlike in the books and games, where Regis's inquisitive nature is mild when facing common folk like Zoltan, Milva, Geralt, and their companions, the situation here was different. Since they already knew each other's identities before becoming friends, the questions now delved deeper, touching on each other's very nature.
Had their circumstances been more ordinary, such questions might have been milder, showing respect for each other's secrets.
Thankfully, Regis was the kind of genius who thought aloud, voicing his conjectures as they formed, unlike Gustave, who preferred to keep his musings private. That habit, at least, allowed Gustave to react and anticipate what the vampire might say next.
Although concealing his identity as a Beyonder was already somewhat redundant for someone like Regis, Gustave still didn't wish for his Earthling identity to be exposed. The knowledge of fate's timeline and the peculiarities of Earth's speciality as a whole were simply too sensitive.
Coupled with the fact that his Earth was, by comparison, an infant world—undeveloped and defenseless next to the likes of Regis's ancient vampire realm or other, more mature worlds—Gustave was certain he had to mask his origins, claiming instead to hail from the LOM world.
Even though Regis was a trustworthy person, it was still best for him to adopt a cautious attitude, simply to protect his fellow Earthlings, who were essentially powerless in the face of the many mystical universes.
Nodding his head, Gustave replied, "Your musing makes sense. As for why I arrived so late, it's because, upon coming here, I was reborn in the form of a rabbit. After being hunted for just a few years following my arrival, it then took me hundreds of years to be reborn once more."
Pausing, he continued, "As for the rest of my kind not being present, I believe they are experiencing similar circumstances. But I am luckier than them, as I am the first to be reborn among my Beyonder kin."
Wanting to continue the game of probing one another with Regis, he noticed, however, that his maids were squirming in discomfort.
Recalling the expressions plastered across their faces, remembering his fabricated story of being an angel—which was now "exposed" as nothing more than him being a Conjunction creature—Gustave turned toward Regis.
"Vampire benefactor, would you mind hypnotizing my maids once more? It's too soon for them to learn my true identity—their understanding of mystical matters is still far too shallow."
A look of intrigue crossed Regis's face upon realizing the young man's race was that of a Beyonder. Turning his attention to the task at hand, he regarded the trembling maids with mild exasperation.
"Humans and their fear," he sighed softly, a trace of weariness in his voice. "When, I wonder, will they grasp how infinitesimal their own significance truly is—how utterly it pales beside the boundless vastness of the dimensions?"
Fixing his gaze on their eyes, he noticed one maid seemingly accepting the circumstances; Regis deduced she was the young man's favorite. However, since the young man had not specified anyone to be left out, he hypnotized all four of them the same.
After they fell asleep, Regis, moving with swift, mist-like motions back and forth from the front of his house to his bedroom, gently placed them on his human bed—a bed he rarely used—in a neat row.
Returning to the front door, Regis opened it once more and welcomed the young man inside. "With that matter attended to, step into my abode. Make yourself at ease."
Using all his tiny strength, Gustave tried his best to climb over the threshold of the front door—a threshold built by the house's builder to keep out small creatures like snakes, insects, and other tiny animals.
Time and again, however, he failed, as the threshold was simply too tall for his tiny body to manage.
Observing this, Regis intervened, lifting him with effortless care and placing him on the cushioned settees in the living room. The way Regis handled it—much like one might pick up a kitten—left him indignant at being treated so.
"I must admit," he said, his tone soft yet tinged with quiet amusement, "the predicament of your kind in those early stages is… most humorous. To carry the mind and awareness of an adult, yet be confined by the limitations of a babe—surely it must prove a vexing endeavor."
Dusting himself off—clearly not amused at being treated like a kitten—Gustave retorted in a mosquito-like voice, "I can do it myself…"
Regis, let out a soft, amused chuckle. "I have no doubt you can, young man."
Now that he was seated, Gustave wished partly to confirm the [Knowledge] he had inferred from lore, and partly to engage in this game of intellectual probing—a habit of Regis that even Geralt, despite knowing him for a long time, could not escape.
"What about you, vampire benefactor—"
"Emiel Regis."
"What about you, Master Regis? Did your kind face similar circumstances? And not only that, I am curious—how did you discern that I employ focused, purpose-bound sorcery, and how did you ascertain the fundamental knowledge of my immortal nature? Was it also because of my blood, like your ability to discern my true age from my scent alone?"
Nodding his head, Regis answered, "Yes, young man—"
"Gustave, youngest prince of Lyria and Rivia."
"Indeed, Prince Gustave. I was able to perceive your purpose-bound sorcery because…" He sniffed lightly, as if savoring the subtle nuances of a rare type of blood. "I detected within your mind a trace—a minuscule, patterned congealing of blood."
"Comparable, in a sense, to the Source possessed by sorcerers of this world, though yours is confined, restricted to a single, precise region of your brain. And yet, unlike theirs, which remains largely dormant, your pattern is remarkably vibrant, causing the blood itself to move in harmonious concert… a veritable symphony of motion."
Surprised by this revelation, Gustave began to muse before Regis continued his explanation. Understanding the correlation between scientific methods of identifying blood and the functioning of his spiritual abilities was a monumental discovery, for he now knew with certainty that magic, science, and spirit were interconnected.
Upon further reflection, Gustave admitted that his understanding of this knowledge had been rather shallow, as it was fairly obvious when studying the three types of power he had categorized for himself.
It could be easily confirmed by observing the byproducts of magic as they manifested in the physical world—much like his earlier deduction about fire-elemental magic. Even psionics, largely invisible to the naked eye, required a scientific explanation.
Similar to how neurons communicate with tiny electrical pulses along their axons, creating interconnected, weak electromagnetic fields, he presumed psionics functioned in a similar way—essentially turning them into a kind of radio station capable of producing electromagnetic waves.
Coming out of his musings, Gustave then focused once again on Regis's explanation.
"My kind is capable of reconstructing a person's lifetime of experiences from little more than their scent. From an early age, when we were left to our own devices along the forest paths of blood, learning to procure our own sustenance, we were trained to discern scents carefully, so as to avoid predators."
"In contrast to the human world, where the principal dangers may be tigers, bears, or crocodiles, my world contains creatures with a varied and often unpredictable repertoire of abilities. Failure to detect, through their scent, the details of their nature and habits could prove fatal."
"Unlike your kind, who I understand reach adulthood shortly after birth—much like dragons, as I learned from a friend in the course of raising a daughter—my kind at that stage relies solely upon animalistic instincts."
"These instincts, comparable to the mammalian reflexes human infants retain during their first year, persist far longer in our race. Accordingly, our sense of smell becomes the primary instrument by which we navigate early life."
"That sense is refined over the years, until adulthood, to the point where we can perceive a general outline of an individual's life from the scent of their blood alone. Much as a human might judge the age of a wine by its aroma, I can, with reasonable certainty, estimate your age and even some of the more significant experiences you have endured. Twenty-three years, in your case."
"Corrected, Master Regis. Twenty-one. I am twenty-one."
"Ah… my error, it seems. It has been some time since I last partook of blood, and I confess my senses have grown somewhat dulled in distinguishing such scents."
Taking a mandrake distillation from the space-expansion satchel at his side, Regis took a gulp and offered it to Gustave, as the formula was exceedingly mild, before continuing his explanation.
"That is why I was able to deduce the circumstances of your rebirth. The slight misalignment between the scent of your blood in your mind and that in the rest of your body is sufficient indication. As for your immortality, I never claimed to know it. I merely assumed your rebirth was a singular event—one which you have, in fact, confirmed."
Seeing the smug look on Regis's face, having seemingly won this little game of probing one another, Gustave couldn't help but let out a soft tsk. As for what Regis was referring to, it was his remark that Gustave had not arrived late when the Conjunction appeared, but had instead been reborn and hunted in the form of a rabbit.
All things considered, he would rather have an origin story of being immortal than simply arriving late—admitting the latter would create far more complications, especially regarding his Earthling identity.
As for the complications of becoming immortal, the person in front of him was literally immortal, so there would be none—unlike in science-driven media series, where scientists scramble to find ways to extend their lives.
Returning from his musings and recognizing the famous mandrake distillation of Regis—something he had only seen while playing a game and reading a book—he took the bottle and admired its intricate design for a brief moment.
Taking a swing of the mandrake distillation, Gustave immediately wretched. "Bleurgh! Master Regis, are you sure this thing is safe for toddler consumption?!"
Taking the snifter away, Regis chuckled. "Well, of human infants, I cannot speak with certainty. Of a litter of kittens, however, I can assure you it is quite safe."
Looking at Regis with disgruntlement, Gustave now had a front-row seat to this higher vampire's mischief. He finally understood what Geralt and company—especially Dandelion—had experienced when Regis tried to scare them with his mock fearsome vampire persona.
—