Chapter 122 - Damn Reincarnation

The Hearing

“You need a surname as well as a first name on your citizenship card, right? Does that make you Mer Merdein?”

Eugene had found something to tease her about. The instant it occurred to him, he turned to Mer with a smirk.

“Mer-Mer-Merdein.”

“... You really are remarkable, Sir Eugene.”

Mer muttered the words while suppressing her simmering irritation.

“In your previous life, Sir Hamel died at thirty-eight, correct? And now you’re twenty.”

“That’s right.”

“Then, counting your previous life, you’re fifty-eight. You’re almost sixty. How can you still act so childish and immature?”

“Trempel Wizardor is almost seventy, and he called me a flighty boy just because I flew through the sky.”

He answered, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He remembered how pleased he had felt with himself when he called Ciel a flighty girl. Eugene decided that when he saw her again someday, he ought to sincerely apologize for that ill-chosen remark.

“I’ve never thought about wanting a surname, but I wouldn’t mind being Mer Merdein at all. Lady Senya gave me the name Mer herself, and Merdein is the surname of Lady Senya, whom I love and respect very, very much.”

“I’ll bet she took your name, Mer, from Merdein.”

“... That can’t be true. Lady Senya is far wiser and more considerate than you realize. There must be some other meaning behind my name.”

“No matter how I look at it, I don’t think there’s any other reason...”

“How could you know what Lady Senya was thinking? I’m Mer Merdein. It’s not as though I can take your surname and become Mer Lionheart.”

... Actually, wouldn’t that be rather nice too? Mer closed her mouth for a moment and sank into thought.

Mer firmly believed the fairy tale. She had never imagined that Senya was its author. That was only natural: even Mer felt that some parts of the fairy tale... especially the first edition, went a little too far.

Beautiful Senya. Adorable Senya...

‘... One of Lady Senya’s admirers must have written that fairy tale.’

Thinking rationally, that was the most plausible answer. It wasn’t unusual, after all. Even now, countless people idolized the Hero who defeated the Demon Kings and his companions. Three hundred years ago, the entire continent must have idolized them.

‘Neither Sir Eugene nor Lady Senya said the contents of the fairy tale were entirely made up.’

[“Senya, I loved you.”]

‘Even if Sir Eugene never actually said that, if someone invented those last words for Sir Hamel... there must have been something between them, right?’

Mer remembered how Senya had lived in Aroth. There had been three disciples whom she taught magic. They had done everything they could to keep her from feeling lonely, and Senya had opened her heart to them as well.

Her disciples and Mer were the only people Senya spent time with privately. Mer remembered her immersing herself in magical research in that empty mansion, going days on end without sleep. Dozens of party invitations arrived every month, but far from accepting them, Senya never even opened them...

‘... Sir Eugene said Lady Senya would think of me as her daughter.’

Mer clenched her little fists. When a man and woman married, the prestige of their families determined which surname they took. Merdein, the surname of Senya the Wise. Lionheart, one of the continent’s most illustrious families...

If she became Mer Merdein, nothing would change. But what if she became Mer Lionheart? If she welcomed Senya back with that name...

“What are you thinking about?”

Eugene turned toward Mer as he asked. Lost in her thoughts, she gave a startled twitch of her shoulders.

“Y-yes, y-y-yes?”

“What are you thinking about that’s got you staring into space like that? You’re even drooling.”

“I-I am not!”

Mer hurriedly rubbed her mouth clean. She hadn’t actually been drooling.

“So what will you do? Are you really going with Mer Merdein?”

“... I think Mer Lionheart would be nice too.”

“No.”

“Why not?!”

“Because that isn’t something I can decide on my own. The main family may be very fond of me, but that doesn’t mean I can just give you the surname Lionheart.”

“Wouldn’t it be fine if you became the family head?”

“Am I supposed to become a family head, something I was never meant to be, just to make you Mer Lionheart?”

Grumbling, Eugene looked at the identity registration form in front of Mer. The space for her name was still blank.

“... How about Sir Lovellian’s surname, then? He said he wouldn’t mind.”

“I think the Red Tower Master is a good person, but that doesn’t mean I want his surname. It would also be unfair to him, since he hasn’t even married yet.”

In the end, Mer became Mer Merdein. Thanks to advance notice from the higher authorities, her identification card was issued immediately. Eyes sparkling, she held it up in both hands.

“... I feel as though I’ve become human.”

“Honestly, I can’t see any difference.”

“That’s because you’re refusing to acknowledge it. You know better than anyone, Sir Eugene. I’m a familiar, not a human. I can exist like this because the formula that constitutes me is inscribed inside you.”

Mer rose with a small smile.

“No mage other than Lady Senya could create a familiar as humanlike as me, but I am absolutely not human. I’m... similar to a golem.”

“... A golem?”

Eugene recalled the golem Hera had made several years ago. She had said it was made using cabrium ore. There was no way to call that thing human.

“Creating ‘life’ through magic is a tremendous taboo. Lady Senya was a mage through and through, more than anyone else, and she was arrogant... but she never broke that taboo.”

No blood flowed through Mer. She had no heart or other organs.

“Just because something moves doesn’t mean it’s alive. Life is a soul. It’s something every living being possesses. I don’t have one. My personality was created using Lady Senya’s childhood personality as its basis. I’m an artificial intelligence that learns on its own. By taking my sustaining formula into your body, you gave me freedom... but my source still remains in Witch Craft.”

Eugene gazed silently at Mer’s smiling face.

“Even this identification card is an example. A real identification card is linked to blood. Only living beings can shed blood. Even if it serves the same purpose, you can’t call the oil flowing through a machine blood, can you?”

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

Grumbling, Eugene ruffled Mer’s hair.

“Artificial intelligence? So what? You don’t blindly obey every command you’re given. You can make your own decisions. Neither blood nor oil flows through your body, but mana flows through it instead.”

“... And what difference does that make?”

“What I gained by becoming Akasha’s master.”

Eugene lifted his cloak to show her Akasha.

“It links to my consciousness, analyzes me, and reshapes the magic I’ve learned into its optimal form... Put simply, it’s this: an ‘understanding’ of magic.”

“...”

“Akasha amplifies its master’s understanding of magic. It isn’t absolute. As I am now, I can’t understand every formula that makes you up. But I can understand this: mana is the source of life.”

“... The source?”

“Yes. That’s why it holds infinite possibilities. Only living beings can shed blood? So what? Mana flows through your body instead of blood. Rather than flesh and bone, your body is made of mana, bound together and shaped to perfection.”

“... Words like that won’t convince me.”

“I told you. Thanks to Akasha, I’ve come to understand magic. I may not fully understand your formulas, but I understand how your body was made. Because I can see it.”

Eugene narrowed his tingling eyes and gazed at Mer.

“Mer. As you said, Senya is a mage through and through, and arrogant beyond anyone else. But she never broke the taboo. Just as you’re strict, with your personality based on her childhood self, Senya was strict and valued principles when it came to magic. Yet she was also mischievous and twisted in some ways.”

That wasn’t limited to Senya. For a mage, especially one called an archmage who sought to transcend the bounds of humanity, madness was inevitable.

“Senya doesn’t break taboos. She deceives them. Technically, you aren’t human, but Senya made you human by deceiving the taboo without violating it.”

“... Ugh...”

“Mer Merdein. You should take pride in that fact, and in your own existence.”

“Uu...”

Her pouting lips trembled. Her eyes grew wet. Watching her closely, Eugene gave her a mischievous smile.

“Crying again?”

“... I’m not crying.”

“Your personality is based on Senya’s childhood self, right? So if you’re a crybaby, that means she was a crybaby too?”

“Th-that’s not true. I’m not a crybaby, and neither is Lady Senya.”

“Oh, come on. She absolutely is. Senya cried her eyes out when I was dying. She cried plenty after I died, too. And she cried when we met again.”

“... Lady Senya is sensitive. Her heart is so kind and beautiful that she sheds tears when tears ought to be shed.”

“That’s what a crybaby is.”

Still teasing her, Eugene went outside with Mer.

“Finally, you’re out.”

Oversized sunglasses concealed half her face, and she wore a fur hat of dubious taste. Was that a fox tail sticking out of it? A fur coat, too. The thick fur around her neck seemed like a declaration of stubbornness.

“What are you doing here?”

Melkith El-Hayah, the White Tower Master, twirled a curly lock of hair dangling beneath her hat.

“Waiting for you.”

Melkith’s eyes settled on Eugene’s Cloak of Darkness. The artifact had originally belonged to her. She had treasured it so much that she rarely wore it... Drawing a deep breath, she strode up to him.

“Doesn’t it look a little worn?”

“Of course not. As its former owner, you know the Cloak of Darkness is enchanted to restore its exterior.”

“... Former owner? That cloak is mine!”

“Oh, right. I’ve been using it for three years, so it slipped my mind.”

“... You have six years left.”

“Did you come all this way to tell me that?”

“Of course not!”

Melkith lowered her sunglasses a little and glared at Eugene.

The hearing had ended yesterday. She had thought it was her chance to approach Eugene, but hadn’t been able to. Lovellian had taken him away as soon as it was over.

In fact, she decided it was just as well they had left.

Eugene had already been in Aroth for several days. Melkith had waited patiently, by her own standards. She had heard of his arrival on the first day and done her utmost to suppress the urge to visit him immediately.

‘... I can’t give him the impression I’m the desperate one.’

Having restrained herself for several days, she thought it should be all right now.

“Wynnyd is doing well, I trust?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Honestly, you... You’re so irritating with those retorts.”

“Let me tell you in advance: I won’t lend you Wynnyd anymore. It’s a hassle and exhausting for both of us, isn’t it? And not just us. To lend it to you, I’d have to report it to Black Lion Castle again and have them send an observer.”

“... Listen, kid. Principles are all very well, but sometimes a mage has to deceive and mock them. You’re a Lionheart, but you’re also a mage, aren’t you?”

“Pfft.”

Mer, who had been listening quietly, burst out laughing. Unable to understand her laughter, Melkith tilted her head.

“... What? Why are you laughing?”

“I just heard exactly the same thing you said, White Tower Master.”

“... You said it, I assume? Excellent. You understand the very essence of a mage.”

Looking smug, Melkith patted Eugene’s shoulder.

“That’s right, kid. A mage must be cunning. You have to pursue your own interests by deceiving principles without violating them. If you lend me Wynnyd for just a few days and we both keep our mouths shut, no one will ever know.”

“Whatever you say, I’m not lending you Wynnyd. As you said, I’m a mage, but I’m also a member of Lionheart.”

“... So I can’t persuade you.”

Melkith’s brows furrowed.

“Fine, then. I was only asking, and let me make this clear: I’m not particularly hung up on it.”

“That’s a relief.”

That was a lie. She was extremely hung up on it. But this wasn’t something she could force through sheer stubbornness. Most importantly, she had nothing to offer that would sway Eugene.

As an archmage and tower master, she owned plenty of rare artifacts. But she could count on one hand the artifacts superior to the Cloak of Darkness. Those were her magical armaments, bound to her soul, so she couldn’t lend them out.

‘Anything below those isn’t good enough. Now that I’ve lent him the Cloak of Darkness, he won’t even be interested unless it’s an artifact of comparable value.’

She still regretted it... but she didn’t insist any further. This had only been her fallback option anyway. Melkith had another goal.

“Then how about this?”

Melkith placed both hands on Eugene’s shoulders.

“As you know, I’m the greatest spirit mage of this century... no, in all of history. I guarantee that even after I die, no spirit mage who can rival me will be born for at least two hundred years.”

“Why two hundred years specifically? That’s surprisingly precise. It sounds like a long time, but it isn’t vague.”

“You... Are you asking because you really don’t know? Vermouth the Great was born three hundred years ago, wasn’t he? And I was born about two hundred years after that.”

Come to think of it, Melkith had idolized Vermouth for contracting with the Wind Spirit King.

“... Oh, yes. And?”

What an obnoxious brat. He was so irritating that she nearly crushed the shoulders she was holding. Barely restraining her strength, Melkith smiled.

“I’ll teach you spirit arts. As I’m sure you realize, this is a tremendous opportunity. Your teacher, Lovellian, is an incredible mage, but learning magic and learning spirit arts are entirely different things.”

She had good reason to be proud. Melkith had contracts with two Spirit Kings, and she was also an archmage who had reached the Eighth Circle.

“... Aren’t spirit arts ultimately all about aptitude?”

Eugene replied with an indifferent expression.

“An affinity for spirits that you possess from birth. If you also have magical aptitude, you can contract with spirits as soon as you begin sensing mana.”

“A genius is, by nature, a monster created by talent.”

Melkith snorted as she answered.

“As you say, aptitude is everything in spirit arts. I won’t deny that. I was able to contract with two Spirit Kings because lightning and earth spirits loved me from the moment I was born. So what? You’re called a genius yourself.”

“That’s exactly why I’m saying this. A genius can’t understand an ordinary person. Controlling spirits came naturally to you from birth, but not to me. Can someone like you actually teach me spirit arts?”

Melkith released Eugene’s shoulders and stepped back.

“... If we’re talking about skill as a mage... yes. I’m several steps behind your teacher, Lovellian. That can’t be helped. I crossed the barrier to the Eighth Circle by fusing spirit arts with magic. But kid, that’s precisely what makes me unique. Even if I’m not a better mage than your teacher, I possess something he can never have.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“The same goes for you. A genius from Lionheart, renowned as a martial family. On top of that, you were born with magical aptitude and reached the Fifth Circle at twenty. You’re controlling wind spirits thanks to Wynnyd, too.”

She raised an index finger pointedly and wagged it from side to side.

“Innate aptitude is pretty absolute. Hard work may produce better results than a genius, but it can’t make you a genius. You understand that too, don’t you, kid? You weren’t born with an affinity for spirits to match your martial or magical talents, but now that you’ve already contracted with a wind spirit, that affinity no longer matters. You can use magic and control spirits. That’s enough.”

Eugene looked at Melkith without answering. She beamed and folded her arms.

“Spirit arts involve using spirits, but they aren’t magic. Just as blindly swinging a sword can’t be called swordsmanship. Don’t understand? That’s why I’m offering to teach you. No one in this world can teach spirit magic better than me.”

She had an ulterior motive. While teaching Eugene spirit magic, Melkith intended to seize whatever opportunities arose to use Wynnyd as a catalyst and summon the Wind Spirit King.

Her intentions were perfectly transparent.

[“... Hamel.”]

Tempest spoke inside Eugene’s head.

[“I dislike that woman.”]

‘Why?’

[“You may not know this, but that woman is insane. When you lent her Wynnyd without even asking my consent, do you know what she did with it?”]

‘No.’

[“She rubbed her naked body against the sword! To think there was still someone who followed such a barbaric, primitive superstition...!”]

Tempest exploded into a shout.

‘... Uh... superstition?’

[“The superstition that bringing flesh into close contact with a catalyst triggers spiritual resonance! To think a great spirit mage would believe such nonsense!”]

Tempest had partly brought that upon himself. He had refused to answer dozens, even hundreds of summons, so Melkith had resorted to a crude method.

[“And that’s not all. To summon me, she stood naked on top of the tower! Swinging Wynnyd around and letting the wind strike her! All while shrieking in a way no human possibly could!”]

‘...’

[“I dislike that woman. If she tries to hold Wynnyd again, I will never answer your summons again.”]

‘Who do you think you’re threatening? So what if you don’t answer? You think I’ll miss you?’

[“... I will answer your summons... but I dislike that woman.”]

Tempest was desperately opposed.

“Your answer?”

Melkith asked confidently.

“He says no.”

Eugene answered immediately.

Melkith’s face crumpled.

“Why don’t you want to? Wait... he says no? Who’s telling you no?”

“Tempest.”

“... What?”

“I’m late mentioning it, but I’ve contracted with the Wind Spirit King.”

Eugene gave her a small bow and walked past. Giggling, Mer followed him.

Melkith remained rooted to the spot for a while. Then she stiffly turned her head to look behind her. Eugene and Mer were already far away, their backs receding into the distance.

“Where are you goiiing?!”

With a shrill yell, Melkith ran after Eugene.