Chapter 143 - Damn Reincarnation

The Hunt

Hector stood well back, watching the scene unfold.

Hundreds, thousands of spikes erupted from what had been bare ground. They were pitch-black, but they were not made of darkness. Writhing as though alive, the spikes looked like masses of flesh covered in black, horny skin.

["Don't go near them."]

The voice in his head brimmed with excitement.

["Even you would rot away and die if you went near those."]

"... Shouldn't we check whether he's alive?"

["There's nothing to check, but if you insist, go ahead. Just remember, Hector. Even you will rot away and die if you approach those unprotected."]

Hector grimaced. The speaker was unlikely to be making this up, and had no reason to, but he still needed to check. He picked up a stone lying nearby and tossed it forward.

CRUMBLE!

The instant it touched a thorn, the stone turned black and crumbled to ash. Seeing that for himself completely erased any desire to approach. Shaking his head, Hector stepped back.

"He must be dead."

["We have enough sacrifices anyway. Isn't Eward's fixation on that boy purely personal?"]

"Well... there's enough history between them to explain that fixation. Or is it because of his value as a sacrifice?"

["Hmm. I've heard that blood relatives, such as parents and siblings, make valuable sacrifices... but strictly speaking, Eugene Lionheart isn't Eward's blood relative, is he?"]

Hector shrugged at the voice and turned away. How would Eward react to his failure to bring Eugene back alive? Would he be angry? Disappointed? Hector pictured Eward's face. Someone hollow and lacking—or rather, someone whose empty spaces had been filled with something else. Hector found Eward intriguing, but he could neither understand him nor consider him normal.

Hector left.

Even afterward, the thorns did not disappear.

["Sir Eugene...?"]

Mer called to Eugene, filled with anxiety and concern. But no answer came. His silence left her trembling.

["Y-you're all right, aren't you?"]

She asked again, but once more received no reply. She wanted to at least poke her head out of the cloak, but she could not. These thorns corroded anything within their range, even without direct contact.

And yet Eugene was perfectly unharmed.

The Moonlight Sword.

Even this powerful corrosive curse could not encroach upon it. Eugene stared at the sword pressed close to his body and its soft moonlight.

The bracelet on his left wrist was broken. The instant the thorns had erupted from beneath the ground, Eugene had smashed it without hesitation and drawn the Moonlight Sword.

He had reacted so quickly because he knew this attack. Its reach was immense. So long as the target's location and coordinates were known, it could raise thorns from dozens of kilometers away.

'... He won't be able to use it that well.'

His body was uninjured. Mer's voice kept ringing in his head. She must have known he was unharmed, yet she continued asking if he was all right.

He knew why. It was his mind she was worried about, not his body. Eugene chuckled softly and shook his head.

"I'm fine."

His chest seethed. His head, by contrast, was as cold as though someone had stuffed it with ice. His left hand throbbed. Glancing down, he saw that his clenched fingers had driven his nails through his palm, drawing blood.

"It just reminded me of the old days."

Muttering under his breath, Eugene shook the blood from his palm.

'I couldn't cut through them.'

He had originally intended to use the Moonlight Sword to cut down every rising thorn.

That had been beyond him. Perhaps a Moonlight Sword at full strength could have done it, but the one Eugene possessed now held only the power of its hilt and a single added fragment.

'... So we were both short on power.'

He had been able to cut clear enough space to keep himself safe. No additional attacks had come, either. Taking a closer look now, he could see how crude the thorns' shapes and arrangement were.

'Well, of course.'

Eugene raised the Moonlight Sword.

'This must be the limit for a human who isn't a Demon King or even a demon.'

When the Demon King of Cruelty had driven Ruinthos, the Demonic Spear, downward, the entire Demon King's castle had become a field of thorns. That sudden attack had nearly killed Eugene—Hamel—time and time again.

Now that the Demon King of Cruelty was dead and Vermouth had disappeared, the master of Ruinthos, the Demonic Spear, was Doynes Lionheart, head of the Council of Elders.

Grinding his teeth, Eugene swung the Moonlight Sword.

BOOM!

The light it scattered erased countless thorns. Eugene swung it several more times as he made his way out.

'I've broken the bracelet, so he won't be able to raise thorns at my exact location anymore.'

The Demon King of Cruelty had used the power of his demonic eyes to raise thorns without specifying coordinates, but Doynes would not be capable of that.

'Value as a sacrifice.'

Those were the words Hector had muttered.

'I don't know what the hell they're doing that requires sacrifices... but at least killing everyone outright isn't the objective.'

Honestly, he had never expected Doynes to be able to wield the Demonic Spear's power.

'Vermouth was the only one who could freely use the Demon Kings' weapons in the first place...'

Eugene had tried holding a Demon King's weapon in his previous life, too.

The moment he gripped it, his blood had turned black, and he had felt as though he would go mad.

'It isn't a power he can use repeatedly.'

That was only rationalization. Eugene admitted he had not been cautious enough. He had suspected Doynes was the culprit, but had considered him only as the head of the Council of Elders, not as the master of the Demonic Spear. Who would have imagined that Vermouth's distant descendant could draw out even its power?

["... What are you going to do?"]

Mer's voice was full of anxiety.

["A spirit mage of darkness, and now the head of the Council of Elders, too... This forest is far too dangerous. I know you're strong, Sir Eugene, but fighting on enemy ground..."]

"He said sacrifices."

He knew what Mer was worried about.

"Hector captured Cyan."

["..."]

"And it might not just be Cyan. They may have captured Ciel, too. ... Gargis... and the others might have been caught as well."

Eugene grimaced. He had tried to tell himself that it would be fine as long as Cyan and Ciel were safe... but he couldn't.

["... You have a foul mouth and an infuriating attitude, Sir Eugene, but you aren't wicked at heart."]

"Be quiet."

["I suppose a wicked person wouldn't have fought the Demon Kings to save the world. Even if the world three hundred years ago was horrible, with your abilities, you could have looked after yourself and lived comfortably even then."]

"You're wrong about that."

Eugene clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"I survived that world and grew strong because I didn't try to live comfortably while looking out for myself alone. And it wasn't just me. Senya, Anise, Moron... Vermouth, too. We were all like that."

To Eugene, this was a simple, obvious statement that stirred no particular emotion. If all he had wanted was personal comfort, he had had plenty of opportunities.

When monsters had slaughtered his village and left him the sole survivor, he could have given thanks for that miracle and lived quietly.

He hadn't. Hamel had wanted revenge. That was why he had become a mercenary. Even after making a name for himself, there had been ample opportunities to live in comfort.

Instead, as his fame grew, Hamel had sought to head for Helmuth.

Senya, Anise, Moron, and Vermouth had been the same. Any of them could have lived comfortably if they had wanted to.

Vermouth had been the heart of their party, but not one of them had said they wanted to turn back, that they didn't want to fight, that they had done enough... that they should stop.

They had only imagined and yearned for the future. What they would do once they had defeated every Demon King and the world was at peace. How they would live.

["Because you're heroes."]

Mer did not try to dissuade Eugene.

"... I don't like that title. It carries too much weight."

["But you're going to rescue everyone now, aren't you, Sir Eugene?"]

"Rescue them? That's not quite right."

Eugene answered with a scowl.

"I'd feel lousy leaving them there, so I don't have a choice. And I'm pissed off. I was minding my own business, wasn't I? Then that fucking old bastard Doynes tried to screw me over, right? He fucking started it. And that bastard Hector fed me a load of sweet-sounding bullshit while trying to stab me in the back."

["... Well, yes, but... you're still going to rescue Lady Ciel and the others."]

"No, that's not the point. I'm asking if I'm justified in being fucking furious. Huh? You know me, Mer. I've got a shitty temper, and I'm a brute. You can't teach an old dog new tricks. I've still got my old personality from my past life. Head of the Council of Elders? Demonic Spear? Fuck that, I've got the Moonlight Sword and the Holy Sword. If I use the Storm Sword, the Dragon Spear, and the Lightning Bow, and fire up Ignition on top of it all, you think I can't fuck him up?"

With that, Eugene tucked the Moonlight Sword into his cloak.

["... You... really can't be honest with yourself, Sir Eugene."]

"What? Who's more honest than me? He's being a fucking asshole, so I'm pissed off and going to kill him. Any complaints?"

["Who am I to complain to you, Sir Eugene?"]

"Then stop talking nonsense and sit quietly inside the cloak."

Eugene spat out the words and glared into the darkness. Reading his thoughts, Mer swallowed hard.

["... Do you think... it really is Lord Eward?"]

He had looked at Eward while holding Akasha. Eward had neither learned black magic nor possessed any other magical artifacts.

But magic was the only thing Akasha could see.

If Eward had made a contract with a spirit of darkness, even Akasha would be unable to detect it.

'With all this talk of sacrifices, it sounds like they're planning something involving black magic. Unless some unknown third party has gotten involved... Eward must be part of this.'

This crime was on an entirely different scale from trying to dabble in black magic on his own. He had dragged his siblings and numerous collateral relatives into it. Even Gilead, the family head, would not defend Eward over this.

'Even if I kill Eward here.'

Eward's smiling face as he thanked him flickered through his mind.

Eugene could not understand what on earth Eward had been thinking when he had said those words.

* * *

"... There's one more now."

Hector muttered, his brows drawing together.

A tree of writhing darkness stood there. Sacrifices hung like fruit from its grotesquely spreading branches.

The main family's twins. Gargis and Dezra from the collateral branches. When Hector had left, there had been four sacrifices in total.

Now Genia had been added, making five. Hector looked up at her limp, unconscious form.

"I didn't bring her here."

Eward's voice came from the darkness.

"She found this place and attacked."

"You're the one who made that happen."

"I know you and that young lady are close. But Hector, you didn't bring the sacrifice you promised to bring. Surely that means I can add another sacrifice at my own discretion?"

"Put it that way, and I've got no argument, young master."

Hector looked away from Genia.

"Well... yes, we were fairly close. She was quite an entertaining opponent, too. But, how do I put this... we weren't close enough for me to ask you not to sacrifice her... Hmm..."

Hector considered what to say for a moment. Even he did not know which words would best describe this complicated feeling.

"It's a strange feeling... Hmm... Yes. I don't mind killing her, but I didn't want to see her die like that... Yes, I suppose that's it."

"So, are you asking me not to sacrifice her?"

"No, I told you I don't mind. What matters now isn't how I feel. It's that you complete the spell properly, young master. Another sacrifice should make the spell work that much better, shouldn't it?"

Waving a hand dismissively, Hector approached the darkness. But he could not go all the way. The closer he came, the more an indescribable sense of menace seemed to eat away at his mind.

The feeling was not unfamiliar. He had met high-ranking demons several times in northern Ruhar, which had opened its borders to Helmuth five years earlier.

'... It's familiar enough... but it feels disgusting every time.'

Hector narrowed his eyes and peered through the darkness.

Magic circles drawn in red blood covered the ground. And not just the ground. Blood spreading through the open air, where there were no walls, linked the circles together.

Hector had never learned magic. But he had enough connections to magic to carry high-level artifacts that no amount of money could buy. That was why he could sense it instinctively.

The magic circles Eward was drawing were by no means ordinary magic. Eward's Fourth Circle abilities could never activate circles like those. Simply drawing a magic circle neatly did not make it usable. A high-level circle could only be activated by a mage with the corresponding level of ability.

"Magnificent."

A voice came from behind him. Startled, Hector turned to look beside him.

"... You arrived much sooner than I expected. Were you always able to run that fast?"

"The path led straight here, after all."

Dominic spoke with a broad smile.

"Spirits of darkness are even more convenient than I thought. To think the legitimate heir they called the family's disgrace... could contract with such a high-level spirit of darkness."

"Weren't you aware that the contract was being arranged?"

"I knew. But I thought he'd contract with a lesser spirit at most. Who could have imagined that an heir with no talent for either martial arts or magic... would have an affinity for spirits of darkness?"

"That's not true."

Eward answered from the darkness.

"I had no affinity for spirits, either."

"... What's that supposed to mean?"

"The spirit told me himself. Unless there were special... haha... yes, special circumstances, he would never have contracted with someone like me."

"... Special circumstances?"

"In other words... in my case, my bloodline did me quite a favor. Isn't it funny? This bloodline as a legitimate Lionheart heir, which I so desperately want to cast aside... was the only special thing I had when I had nothing else."

As he spoke, Eward looked ahead.

Decon Lionheart lay there with his chest split open. The sight stirred nothing in him. To Eward, the eighteen-year-old boy was merely the first sacrifice, a paint pot containing the blood needed to draw the magic circles.

Beside Decon's corpse floated Jigollas, the Crushing Hammer. The magic circles drawn in Decon's blood spread outward with the hammer at their center. It was the cursed object that had amplified the spirit of darkness's power and guided the sacrifices here.

"... What happened to the head of the Council of Elders?"

"From behind."

Dominic replied with an untroubled smile.

"I pierced his chest. Old as he was, I wasn't confident I could take him head-on. Especially with the Crushing Hammer left here."

"... Did you kill him?"

"Haha... My grandfather may be called the Immortal White Lion, but even he has to die when his chest is pierced."

As he answered, Dominic raised his right hand.

It held Ruinthos, the Demonic Spear, with a blackened, shriveled right hand still clinging to it. Dominic grumbled as he tore the hand off the spear.

"I used Grandfather's hand to unleash the Spear Forest, but I can't do it again. I don't want to end up a one-armed cripple."

"Couldn't you cut off someone else's arm and use it through that, as you just did?"

Hector asked out of genuine curiosity. Dominic gave an incredulous laugh and shook his head.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hector. It only held out because it was the arm of my grandfather, who'd wielded the Demonic Spear for half a century. Any other arm would rot just from touching it. My father and the previous family head both died from the aftereffects of holding the Demonic Spear and the Crushing Hammer."

"Aha... So that really was it. But the Council head was the Demonic Spear's master for over fifty years, wasn't he? And you are the Crushing Hammer's master, Sir Dominic."

"That's what made Grandfather and me special. Now that he's dead, I'm the only special one left."

Dominic nodded with a delighted smile. After tearing every one of the Council head's fingers off the Demonic Spear, he gave the cleaned weapon a twirl.

"So, young master. When will the spell be complete? Are you sure the spirit's instructions are reliable?"

"Of all people, you're the one doubting him, Sir Dominic?"

"Well... I've never heard his voice myself."

"The magic circles are perfect. All that remains is to beg—"

Eward's voice stopped.

"... Didn't you say you killed him?"

The darkness stirred.

"What?"

"Eugene Lionheart."

"What the hell are you talking about? Don't tell me he's still alive?"

Flustered, Dominic turned to Hector.

"... I didn't check the body... No, I couldn't check it. You said there was no need, didn't you?"