Chapter 127 - Damn Reincarnation

Green Tower Master

That day, an unexpected visitor came to the Red Tower.

“If I had invited you, you would have refused, wouldn't you?”

The Black Tower Master, Balzac Ludbeth, smiled as he removed his black fedora.

Neither Eugene nor Lovellian smiled. Lovellian's mouth twitched, while Eugene made his discomfort even more obvious. It was an exceedingly cold reception, but Balzac was accustomed to such treatment.

“May I come inside? Or would you prefer a walk?”

“... I doubt you're here to see me.”

“Haha. Please don't feel too hurt. If you don't mind, Red Tower Master, I would be happy to visit and keep you company whenever you like.”

Lovellian's expression stiffened at Balzac's smiling offer. Like Eugene, Lovellian had little fondness for black mages. Though he did not consider every black mage or demon to be absolute evil, he believed they could never be his friends.

“So refusing isn't an option?”

“If you refuse today, I will return tomorrow.”

“I was planning to return to the main family tomorrow.”

“Then today is our only opportunity. Do you happen to be busy right now? If so, the early hours of the morning would suit me as well.”

In other words, he intended to take up Eugene's time one way or another. Eugene cleared his throat and glanced at Lovellian.

“... The night is cold. If you insist on talking, let's do it inside.”

The Red Tower was Lovellian's domain. Inside the tower, he could intervene no matter what happened. Surely the Black Tower Master, Balzac Ludbeth, would not cause some outrageous incident, but Lovellian simply could not trust this inscrutable black mage.

“... Come in.”

Eugene felt uneasy around Balzac as well. Still, he was curious why a black mage of his caliber had come in person. In particular, Balzac had a direct contract with the Demon King of Incarceration. Perhaps he had brought a message from the Demon King.

“To think I would live to see the day I was allowed inside the Red Tower.”

Balzac seemed to be in a good mood. Looking around Eugene's spacious room, he continued.

“As you know, Eugene, the Red Tower Master isn't particularly fond of me.”

“And you know why, don't you?”

“Yes. That is why I do not feel wronged. His hatred is directed at black mages as a whole. That is a burden every black mage must bear.”

Eugene also knew why Lovellian hated black mages.

Lovellian had lost his family to a black mage's human experiments. Before his very eyes, his mother, father, and younger sister had been turned into writhing chimeras. Had a mage not come to the dungeon to slay the black mage, Lovellian would have become a chimera himself.

“Don't you think the very existence of black mages is wrong?”

“Many people commit sins.”

Balzac sat in an empty chair.

“No matter how many people sin, you cannot say that humanity's very existence is wrong, can you?”

“Some black mages sin, and others are good... Is that what you're trying to say? As far as I'm concerned, being a black mage is itself a sin.”

“Haha... I didn't bring this up to have that sort of debate.”

Those words could easily have been taken as an insult. Yet Balzac showed no displeasure. Instead, his eyes gleamed with interest as he watched Eugene.

“We pursue different things... That is how I would put it. As you know, Eugene, black mages are not the only ones who conduct human experiments. Throughout history, countless mages have committed sins and broken taboos in pursuit of unusual insights.”

“But they didn't make contracts with Demon Kings.”

“In this day and age, Demon Kings are not so different from gods.”

Eugene found that remark offensive.

“I would have no defense if you condemned this as blasphemy... but personally, I believe Demon Kings are actually better than gods.”

“Why?”

“A god's existence must first be proven. Demon Kings, however, already exist. Not in some vague ‘heaven,’ but here on this earth, in Helmuth.”

It was offensive, but not an argument he could dismiss outright.

“Of course, divine miracles exist... But rather than those ambiguous miracles, isn't a Demon King who appears in person and reigns over us better than a god? Moreover, Demon Kings are rational. A contract secured by one's soul is more certain and valuable than belief or faith.”

“Valuable...”

“To put it more simply, black mages are pragmatists who pursue the utmost efficiency. As you know, Eugene, magic is a cruel, spiteful, and unreasonable discipline. No matter how hard you try or how desperately you yearn, you cannot achieve greatness as a mage without talent.”

Those words brought Eward to Eugene's mind.

“For such people, a contract with a demon is inevitably very appealing. Sell your soul and obtain the magic you desire... The burden is yours alone to bear. It harms no one else. It is only when they cannot be satisfied with that that they commit ‘sins.’”

“Do black mages commit so many sins because they're pragmatists, too?”

“If abandoning human decency offers clear benefits, they might well do so for practical gain. Though the same could be said of most mages.”

Balzac had said something like this before.

[“Mages readily abandon such things as decency for the sake of their curiosity and desires. In sheer numbers, there are probably several times as many mages who have strayed from decency as there are black mages who have done so.”]

“Did you also make a contract with a Demon King for practical gain, Balzac?”

“Hmm.”

Balzac tilted his head with a faint smile.

“What do you know about me?”

“I heard that you and the Blue Tower Master studied together.”

“We did not have the same teacher... but yes. I, too, was once at the Blue Tower.”

“The Blue Tower Master said you were exceptionally skilled during your time there.”

“Haha... This sounds like I'm singing my own praises, but yes. That is true. When I was at the Blue Tower, I was more accomplished than its current master... Hiridus. Had a few more years passed that way, I would have become the Blue Tower Master instead of him.”

Balzac paused and tapped his fingers against the chair's armrest.

“... However... I wanted more than what would naturally fall into my hands.”

“More?”

“I am not Senya the Wise.”

The name came out of nowhere. When Eugene narrowed his eyes in confusion, Balzac chuckled and continued.

“Senya the Wise was loved by magic. Lady Senya was a mage capable of threatening Demon Kings, and not a single such mage has appeared since her. I am no exception. Ah... Not that I wish to threaten a Demon King, of course. But I did have the desire to become a mage that accomplished.”

“...”

“And I am not alone. Amelia Merwin, Edmond Codret. The three of us could have become ‘archmages’ even without making contracts with the Demon King of Incarceration. We simply wanted more. Any mage who prides themselves on being a genius would want to see the ‘end’ of magic. But that end is far beyond an archmage's reach.”

“... The end...”

Eugene gave a small laugh and shook his head.

“So, Black Tower Master. Did you see that end after making your contract with the Demon King?”

“I do feel that I am drawing closer to it, little by little. I hope this conversation has helped you understand me a little better, Eugene.”

“Why do you want my understanding in particular?”

“Because being treated as a villain when I have done nothing is a little—no, very—upsetting.”

Was he joking? Eugene could not tell what he really meant, so he simply maintained his stern expression. Balzac shrugged with an awkward smile.

“... Still, am I not better than Amelia Merwin?”

“... Aha.”

Only then did Eugene chuckle and nod.

“I was wondering why you'd come. Did Amelia Merwin tell you about me?”

“You put the personal letter I gave you to good use. I never imagined you would use it so soon.”

“Honestly, I didn't want to use it.”

“I heard it was a chance encounter. That surprised me as well. To think she had made another dungeon, and that you would run into her there.”

“Do you know the circumstances?”

“I haven't heard them. I am curious, but Amelia Merwin would not tell me.”

“Aha. So you've come to ask me about those circumstances?”

“Will you tell me?”

“No.”

Eugene answered without hesitation.

“If you're so curious, why not ask the Demon King of Incarceration you serve instead of me?”

“I could, but the Demon King of Incarceration would not answer. I am not the only one who enjoys his favor.”

Balzac smacked his lips, affecting disappointment.

“I had hoped to hear the circumstances from you, Eugene, but since you have no intention of telling me, I will not insist.”

“Then will you be leaving now?”

“I still have business here.”

“What business?”

“The Rakshasa Princess.”

Balzac's voice lowered.

“Iris. Do you know of her?”

“... I know she's the leader of Helmuth's dark elves.”

“Word that you brought more than a hundred elves back from Samar has reached the Rakshasa Princess as well. Before long, she will visit Lionheart to negotiate.”

Eugene's eyebrow twitched.

“... Negotiate?”

“Yes. She is desperate to expand her forces. Did you never see any dark elves in Samar?”

“... I've heard rumors about them, and stories from the elves.”

“Then you will understand readily enough. The Rakshasa Princess does not hold much standing in Helmuth. Pureblood demons regard her and the dark elves as mongrels, and she is competing with high-ranking demons to become a Demon King.”

“Can she even compete?”

“No.”

Balzac answered without hesitation.

“Dark elves are a unique subspecies. Even the Demon King of Incarceration cannot corrupt a race to create a new one. Only two possessed that special authority: the Demon King of Fury, who died three hundred years ago, and his adopted daughter, the Rakshasa Princess, who commanded the dark elves.”

The Demon King of Fury was dead. In the world today, Iris alone could turn elves into dark elves.

“As I said at the hearing, the Demon King of Incarceration shows great mercy to elves who suffer from demonic sickness and become naturalized citizens of Helmuth. Complete exemption from the vital essence tax. A generous monthly pension, even without selling their souls. And he has granted the Rakshasa Princess a forest for the dark elves, one disproportionately large for their numbers, as her domain.”

Balzac laughed softly and shook his head.

“Of course, most of those pensions go toward the Rakshasa Princess's war funds... The problem is that her ambitions are too great, while her independence army is far too weak to achieve them. As far as I know, she commands slightly fewer than a thousand dark elves.”

Of course there were fewer than three hundred years ago. More than half the dark elves Iris had commanded back then had been killed by Senya during the campaign against the Demon King of Fury. Besides, most elves would rather die of demonic sickness than become dark elves.

“In other words, you have the equivalent of ten percent of the Rakshasa Princess's forces at the Lionheart main estate. For someone obsessed with strengthening her forces, that is bound to drive her mad.”

“If she comes, I'll tell her to fuck off.”

Eugene answered with a cold smile.

“Or... are you telling me to negotiate with the Rakshasa Princess?”

“What right would I have to persuade you, Eugene? I am not her ally.”

“Then what exactly are you trying to say?”

“I have told you before. The Demon King of Incarceration rules Helmuth, but he does not control every demon. Duchess Noir Giabella, the queen of the dream demons. Duke Raizakia, the Black Dragon. Neither has made a contract with the Demon King of Incarceration, and countless other demons are beyond his control as well.”

Eugene stared at Balzac in silence. He could not quite tell what the man was trying to warn him about.

“Of course, even those demons are punished when they violate the ‘laws’ established by the Demon King of Incarceration and must answer for the freedom they enjoy. Just as Baron Olpher was beheaded after enticing Eward.”

Ultimately, a Demon King was simply the most powerful demon. Just as a nation's king could not know every movement of every subject, neither could a Demon King. The only demons whose souls he held in his grasp and controlled were those contracted to him.

Even so, a Demon King's power was absolute. If the Demon King of Incarceration ordered a weaker demon to die, that demon would have to offer up their neck even without a contract.

“... There are demons in Helmuth whom even the Demon King of Incarceration cannot punish.”

“... The bastards who follow the Demon King of Destruction?”

“Yes. The beastfolk in particular.”

Eugene made a conscious effort not to let his feelings show. Oboron's son. The sworn brother of Barang, whom he had fought in Samar.

“Only recently has the Rakshasa Princess fully grasped the reality of her situation. Fewer than a thousand dark elves. She cannot become a Demon King if she insists on relying solely on her own race.”

“... So she's joined forces with the beastfolk? As I understand it, the father killed by their current leader, Yagon, was her brother.”

“No. The Rakshasa Princess has not joined forces with Yagon. Instead, she has recruited some of the beastfolk under him as mercenaries.”

Mercenaries? Eugene murmured the word, tilting his head.

“Yagon is a beast who rules through strength alone. He despises weaklings who fail to meet his standards. To win his approval, they have no choice but to acquire sufficient strength.”

“...”

“That is why many beastfolk work as mercenaries in Helmuth. They gain combat experience by participating in territorial wars between lesser nobles, and grow stronger by devouring demons. Without strengthening themselves that way, they cannot earn Yagon's favor.”

Barang had said that searching for the elves' domain was not Yagon's order.

'Was he a mercenary for some demon, too? Did he come on their orders?'

He could not ask about Barang openly. For now, all he could do was wait for the information Lovellian gathered.

'Lovellian is listening to this conversation, too.'

Lovellian would also have taken note of the word mercenary, and would use it as a lead to gather information about Barang. Eugene nodded without growing impatient.

“This Yagon bastard sounds like a real fucking piece of work.”

“He did bite his own father to death. Even the Rakshasa Princess would hesitate to join forces with such an outlaw. And as you said, the father Yagon killed was her brother.”

The predatory beastfolk Oboron had led had served the Demon King of Fury. Though they now sought shelter under the Demon King of Destruction, Iris would not want to join forces with Yagon, who had killed her former comrade and brother, Oboron.

“If you refuse to negotiate, the Rakshasa Princess will withdraw. She is not so extreme as to attack the Lionheart main estate and seize the elves. However, she might send beastfolk to attack it.”

With those words, Balzac rose.

“Yagon will not come himself, but do not underestimate the beastfolk.”

“Why are you giving me this warning?”

“One reason is that I feel favorably toward you, Eugene... However... please do not misunderstand. My affection is, well, not sexual in nature.”

Apparently, being asked whether he was gay last time had left a deep impression.

“The other reason is for my own sake. I am already hated for being a black mage. If Helmuth's beastfolk were to attack Lionheart... and some tragedy occurred, I fear how much condemnation would rain down on me despite my having done nothing.”

“Aren't you getting more abuse just because you're staying in Aroth? You'd get far less if you went to Helmuth.”

“Haha... That may be true, but I dislike Helmuth.”

Balzac smiled as he put his fedora back on.

* * *

Kristina stroked her stiff cheeks.

The reflection in the mirror looked somehow unfamiliar. Her expression, in particular. She furrowed her brows, relaxed them, and closed and opened her eyes. The skin beneath her fingertips was soft, but even a slight press revealed the tension in her facial muscles.

This had once been natural. It was not unfamiliar. This was precisely the expression that had always come naturally to Kristina. She worked her lips a few times, then consciously tried to smile.

'... Only a few months.'

She tried changing her smile a few more times. None of them pleased her.

... Had she smiled like this in Samar, too? There had been a few times when she had. Smiling was a habit for Kristina. There was no particular reason behind it. She had been taught to do so since childhood, since her time at the convent. A smile looked more benevolent than a blank expression or a contorted face.

'It's only been a few months, but I can no longer remember what my expression used to be.'

Kristina used both index fingers to push up the corners of her mouth. Was an obviously forced smile like this any better than pretense? Her fingers fell away, and the raised corners of her mouth sank again.

“... Family...”

The conversation she had shared with Eugene before leaving Lionheart kept circling through her mind.

[“He's my father. He's saying it because he's worried about me, his son.”]

[“I know he's looking out for me, so as his son, I should at least pretend to listen to him.”]

It had been an unremarkable conversation. Yet it had unsettled her thoughts for days. Kristina knew those words were nothing special. But they were ordinary only within a proper ‘family.’

That was why she could not understand them.

Since her birth, Kristina had never once belonged to a family.

'... That makes me all the more...'

There was a knock at the door.

Kristina arranged her face into a mask of pretense that still felt awkward.

'I know that can't be the case.'

It felt awkward now, but she would soon grow accustomed to it.

'But I wish you had tried to kill me.'

Cardinal Rogeris.

When she met her father, she would have to wear this expression without even thinking about it.

'Then I could leave this place and never come back.'

Kristina did not want to return here.