White Devil Mountain by Hideyuki Kikuchi Page A

him. The sound raced toward D’s neck. A flash of light met it. Fresh blood sailed into the air, tingeing the snow. D’s blood. He pressed his left hand to the right side of his neck. Blood poured from his wrist, and from there it sailed up into the air, scattering red spots six or seven feet ahead of him. The gleam returned to D’s hand. A dazzling sword blade.
    Down on the snow, groans of pain rang out. If they’d known they issued from the Hunter’s severed left hand, whoever was behind him would’ve lost their nerve.
    D moved swiftly, pressing the stump at the end of his arm to the wrist where it stuck out of the snow. He raised the limb. All five fingers worked normally. He then pressed it to the wound on his neck. Although D had brought his left hand up to shield his neck, the blade of his unseen foe had still cut him. But the lifeblood spouting from it stopped dead. His left hand came away. Only a thin red line remained there.
    “You did it!” exclaimed the hoarse voice from his left hand. “You wiped it out without ever seeing it or knowing what it was. It’s stuff like this that makes me not wanna be around you in the mountains, at the sea, or anywhere. Still, it was a hell of a mountain beast to be a match for you in speed. And the way you closed on it like you didn’t give a . . .”
    The voice petered out.
    Quickly, its tone became angry. “I don’t care how badly you wanted to keep your head from getting lopped off, you’re an idiot for using me as a shield. Thanks to you, I’m in a world of pain! Hey, where are you going?”
    D had begun walking back across the snow the way he’d come.
    “It wasn’t destroyed.”
    “What?”
    “I cut it in a vital spot, but it’ll take a moment for it to succumb to the wound. That moment is the problem.”
    “Oh, you can’t be serious. They’re coming!”
    D was walking right toward them. He hadn’t been walking for five minutes when five figures came into view on the snowfield before him. Even the boy was walking again.
    “Can you sense its presence?” asked D.
    “Nope.”
    At that frank reply, D quickened his pace.
    “Oh!” the hoarse voice exclaimed, sounding both surprised and impressed.
    Though Crey and Lilia looked for all the world to be casually ambling along, they’d leapt to either side in unison. An instant later, they had knife and longsword in hand. No one had even seen them draw. Their movements were like a jump in a spliced piece of film. But something unseen sent a cry of pain into the air.
    “They did it,” the left hand groaned from the vicinity of D’s waist. “Seems you’re not the only one here good enough to lay into something that can’t be seen or sensed. And there’s two of ’em, at that.”
    “Hey, did you see that, stud?” Crey called out, hand cupped beside his mouth.
    The group came running over. The boy was at the fore.
    “You must’ve seen that just now, right? One jab of my knife!”
    “Oh my, that was nice work,” the left hand replied. “But the goddess here apparently begs to differ.”
    Alone, Lilia walked over magnanimously, but when she finally joined them, she glared at Crey. “I’m sure you aren’t claiming all the credit, or are you?”
    “You’re a fine one to be making claims to the contrary. It was my knife that did the trick. You know, kid, that thing was going for you. And your good buddy Crey saved your bacon. I hope you appreciate that.”
    “How would the kid know? You’re the lowest of the low, stacking one lie on top of the next. Scum!”
    “Oh, you’ve got some nerve, saying that. You trying to tell me it was that little trinket of yours that saved the kid?”
    “Well, it was faster than that butter knife of yours, at least.”
    “Perfect!” Crey grinned, taking his hand off Lourié’s head. “I haven’t liked you from the get-go. I’ll show you what a woman’s place is!”
    “Oh, that sounds like a fun proposal. I was just thinking how a certain talentless,