Chapter 13 - Damn Reincarnation

Bloodline Succession Ceremony

“Take one of these each and put it on before you go inside.”

Once all the children had made their weapons, Lovellian handed out necklaces hung with blue gems.

“These necklaces will connect to your minds. If you experience excessive stress inside the labyrinth, your necklace will react, and I will intervene.”

They were a safeguard against emergencies.

“Also, if you decide you simply cannot make it through the labyrinth, tap the gem on your necklace and say, ‘Please help me.’ You will then be able to leave the labyrinth safely.”

Hansen and the other small fry nodded at that. They were only participating because they could not defy tradition. They had no ambitions whatsoever for the Bloodline Succession Ceremony.

“Now, then. Let's all go inside together, nice and friendly.”

Having said everything he needed to, Lovellian smiled broadly and stepped away from the cave entrance.

“You will enter together, but the moment you step inside the cave, you will each be guided onto a different path. Don't be too alarmed. There is only one path to begin with, so proceed straight ahead. If you feel you cannot manage even that, tap your gem.”

The children headed forward. Eugene strode along, conscious of the shield strapped to his left forearm.

“Good luck.”

Before they entered the cave, Ciel, walking beside Eugene, gave him a bright smile. Gargis and Dezra exchanged meaningful looks with him without a word. Eugene responded to their gazes with a crooked smile and spoke.

“You too.”

“Yeah!”

Ciel nodded vigorously at his casually offered encouragement.

The nine children entered the cave. The moment they passed through its sole entrance, their surroundings went abruptly dark. Someone might have been expected to cry out in surprise, but he heard nothing of the sort.

Completely unruffled, Eugene surveyed his surroundings. This maze had been brought here through summoning magic, yet now that he was inside, nothing felt unnatural. That was partly because Lovellian was a mage skilled enough to confidently call himself an archmage, but Eugene's still-undeveloped body also could not detect the peculiar wrongness of magic.

‘Because I haven't trained in mana.’

That meant he would have to rely entirely on his physical senses. Fortunately, that was one of the areas in which Eugene was confident.

Eugene let out a slow, deep breath. He had not been agitated to begin with, but he calmed his body and mind still further. Then he focused on his five senses, one at a time. Sight, hearing, smell, touch... What about taste? It was not a particularly useful sense for exploring a labyrinth. Even so, Eugene bit the tip of his tongue lightly, letting the taste of blood spread through his mouth.

And so, the senses he had brought into his awareness sharpened into focus. Each breath he released awakened his mind. The intuition this opened up could rightly be called a sixth sense.

From that awakened mind, he summoned the experience of Hamel the Fool.

Exploring labyrinths? He had done more than enough of that in his previous life. Most monsters that burrowed underground built their nests like mazes. Even little fucking ants built their nests that way, and even goblins arranged their dens like that.

That went without saying for demonic beasts. Helmuth, the demon realm. Apparently, people these days even paid a fortune to go sightseeing there. But the Helmuth Hamel had wandered through had been an unspeakably horrific hell that should never have existed in this world.

How many times had he nearly died there? Most of the skills he had been so confident in were of no use in Helmuth. Even that idiot Moron had been afraid to charge blindly ahead. Senya, who had vaunted herself as an archmage, had lost confidence in her own magic. Even Anise, who always said God would watch over them, had called her companions' names more often than God's in Helmuth.

Vermouth alone had remained unshaken.

“...”

Eugene smiled wryly. The Hero Vermouth and his companions... It was an accurate description. Vermouth had been the center of their party. Without him, none of them would have made it through Helmuth. Hamel, Moron, Senya, Anise—all of them had been young and inexperienced when they first entered Helmuth.

But people grew through experience. Even if they were not on Vermouth's level, every one of his companions had, at least once, entertained the delusion that they were the most outstanding person in the world. And so they had been capable of explosive growth.

At some point, his companions had begun treating each day in Helmuth as ordinary life. Moron had started charging ahead again, Senya had regained confidence in her magic, and Anise had recovered her faith in God.

As for Hamel, he hated being weaker than Vermouth. He hated the way his body trembled with fear. He simply could not do what Vermouth did.

That was why he pushed himself all the harder. Since he could not be like Vermouth, he sought to grow in his own way.

Vermouth felt no fear.

Hamel felt fear.

So he would grow accustomed to it and overcome it.

Vermouth did everything with ease.

Hamel could not. Even if he did well at first, sooner or later he would hit a wall.

So he would break through that wall.

Labyrinths were no different.

Even in a labyrinth he had never encountered before, Vermouth never panicked and always tried to find the way. Still, he was human, and he did not always choose the right path.

Every time Vermouth failed, and every time he chose correctly, Hamel examined what had led him to find the right path and what had gone wrong when he chose the wrong one. Hamel had none of Vermouth's innate intuition, so that was how he made up for his shortcomings.

All that experience remained intact in Eugene's mind.

‘This labyrinth was built for children to get through. It wasn't made to kill them. In that case... it'll be blatant and predictable.’

Eugene did not stop walking. Just as Lovellian had said, there was only one path at the start. His surroundings were still dark... But once he had covered a certain distance, the darkness slowly lifted.

There were walls on either side, with enough space between them to swing a weapon without difficulty. To wield a spear freely, however, he would have to pay careful attention to his positioning.

That was why Eugene had not chosen a spear. A sword and shield. This basic combination was versatile enough to handle almost any situation.

‘The ceiling's closed off.’

He could not use the trick of climbing over the walls. Of the senses he had sharpened, Eugene focused on smell. The taste of blood still lingered in his mouth. The smell of blood. He first filtered that out, searching for any scent that did not belong.

There was a faint smell of oil. If he could use mana, he would have been able to sense it more clearly. Feeling a little regretful, Eugene continued forward.

After a short walk, he reached a fork. The two paths looked identical. The smell of oil came from the left. Even though the trap had been created through magic, it smelled of oil. Blatant and predictable indeed.

Yet Eugene took the left path. He wanted confirmation that his judgment was correct. Pretending to walk casually, he concentrated on placing his weight through the sole of his foot with every step.

One, two, three, four...

Seven.

The panel beneath his foot sank slightly. From there, one, two...

‘Three.’

FWIP!

An arrow shot from a gap in the brickwork. Eugene calmly raised his shield.

THUNK!

Unable to pierce the shield, the arrow bounced away. Rather than proceed any farther, Eugene turned around.

‘Easy.’

They really had tailored it to children's abilities. Eugene chuckled. Whenever he went out of his way to check a wrong path like this, Senya used to throw a fit. Recalling the past brought back not only experience, but all sorts of memories as well.

“Tch.”

Feeling a bitter ache inside, Eugene went back to the right-hand path.

* * *

“Go back and rest.”

Gilead withdrew his cold gaze.

Hansen had been the first to tap his necklace and declare that he was giving up. He had figured he could not compete anyway, and he had no desire to put himself through needless hardship. His parents, too, had never expected their son to pull off any sort of upset.

“Y-yes.”

Standing awkwardly, Hansen bowed his head low. Not long after he left, another call for rescue came. Ten-year-old Jules had at least ventured into the labyrinth, which put him ahead of Hansen. But he had been hit by an arrow at the first trap and had begged to be saved, weeping copiously.

A little later, another plea for rescue arrived. This time it was eleven-year-old Decon. He had stoically endured an arrow striking his body, but the slime he encountered afterward had thoroughly defeated him. Slimes were difficult monsters to fight with edged weapons. Swallowed by its gelatinous body, Decon had screamed for someone to save him.

Less than an hour had passed, and nine children had already become six. It was pathetic, but not unexpected. No one had expected those three small fry to show anything worthwhile.

‘Gargis... He's clumsy, but he doesn't stop.’

Lovellian had projected images of the labyrinth into the air. The six children appeared in separate sections of the display. Rather than avoid the traps, Gargis chose to stubbornly force his way through them. Whether an arrow struck him or he encountered a monster, he swung the greatsword that was as large as his own body, smashing his way forward.

‘Dezra is nimble. She has intuition, too...’

Whenever she fell victim to a trap, she immediately changed paths. She had also avoided several traps. She did not go out of her way to fight monsters, either. If another path was available, she went around them. She only wielded her spear when she could not retreat.

‘Cyan is too cautious. Still, he isn't doing badly.’

Anisilla had obtained the accounts of famous adventurers and plans of various labyrinths to educate the twins. In this way, they had learned basic information about labyrinths and how to navigate them. That had helped them make their way through this blatant, predictable, easy labyrinth.

For example, the labyrinth was enclosed on every side, yet magic made wind blow through it. Following the direction of the wind could help them find their way. Careful observation could reveal artificial traces along a path, and even without those, they could evade a trap if they made the right decision the moment it activated.

That was what Cyan was doing. But for all his caution, there were still rough edges to his approach. His thinking was inflexible. By relying unquestioningly on whatever knowledge he recalled, he narrowed his own field of view. As a result, he sometimes fell for simple traps.

‘Ciel has good instincts. Her thinking is flexible, too. But... she has a childish side.’

Ciel activated traps by throwing objects such as shoes at them. After doing that a few times, she deliberately proceeded along the trapped path. If she found the way blocked, she went back; if not, she kept going. When she encountered a monster, she did not fight it immediately, but tried tormenting it as though playing with a toy.

As for Eward...

“... What do you think?”

“He seems very interested in magic.”

Eward was not focused solely on making it through the labyrinth. He examined each trap and exclaimed in admiration whenever he saw a monster. To think a monster created from an illusion could be so lifelike. Even after somehow defeating one, he did not leave right away, but spent quite some time examining its corpse with shining eyes.

His eyes were dull and lifeless when he swung his sword to fight monsters. But when he encountered magic, he smiled.

“... He has been like that since he was little. He preferred reading books to training his body and honing his skills. He was especially happy whenever I told him fairy tales about magic. Did you know? Eward admires Senya the Wise more than his own ancestor, Vermouth the Great.”

“Lady Senya is deserving of every mage's respect.”

Lovellian smiled proudly.

“I was the same. In ‘The Adventures of the Hero Vermouth,’ I preferred the stories about Lady Senya to those about Lord Vermouth. Whenever the party found itself in difficulty, her magic would provide an astonishing solution, wouldn't it?”

“I read that fairy tale from childhood as well. Though I... liked Hamel.”

“Hamel the Fool?”

“Without his troublemaking, the book would have been terribly dull. He was ill-tempered, but righteous... and he tried to overcome his inferiority complex toward my ancestor, Lord Vermouth, through his own efforts. Even when everyone else agreed with Lord Vermouth, Hamel alone would offer a different opinion.”

“I've disliked Hamel ever since I was a child, myself.”

“Well, I can understand that. He put the party in danger several times... But whenever that happened, Hamel always tried to take responsibility himself. I simply couldn't bring myself to hate him...”

Gilead watched the images with a gentle smile.

“... Eward has wanted to learn magic since he was little. He did study it, in fact. I even invited a magic tutor from the capital... But at some point, he stopped trying to learn any more.”

“Do you know why?”

“He gave it up in the face of reality. For his mother's sake... he decided he had to become the family head. Magic does not give him an advantage in the succession contest.”

The succession contest would begin in earnest once the children reached adulthood.

“... Well, I understand. Magic offers limitless possibilities, but that also makes the road long and difficult.”

“To be honest, I would like Eward to follow the path of magic.”

Gilead turned to Lovellian with a bitter smile.

“Even among the collateral branches, only one family specializes in magic. I tried several times to send Eward to them, but he refused. However... he would not be able to refuse the chance to become the Red Tower Master's disciple. He still has a longing for magic in his heart.”

“I cannot give you a definite answer.”

Lovellian shook his head.

“I cannot take just anyone as my disciple. Given our relationship, Lord Gilead, I will take him with me... But if his aptitude does not meet my standards, I will not accept him as a disciple.”

“That is fine. I have no intention of forcing the matter. I simply want to let the boy devote himself to his dream.”

This was not for the sake of Cyan and Ciel's succession rights. It simply pained him to see his eldest son wasting away as he devoted himself to something he did not even want to do.

To persuade his principal wife, Theonis, and give Eward a push, he had brought the Red Tower Master here in person.

“... Well, I will take my time examining young Eward's aptitude. He doesn't seem to have any intention of using magic in this labyrinth.”

Murmuring this, Lovellian looked at the display.

“... But... Eugene. Just what is that child?”

He had already exclaimed in admiration several times. Now bewilderment outweighed admiration.

“... I don't know either.”

Gilead's murmur was entirely sincere.

On the display, Eugene was tearing a troll illusion to shreds.