Chapter 152 - Damn Reincarnation

Interrogation

Two more days passed before Eugene got out of bed. He had not fully recovered, but after five days bedridden, his body had healed enough for him to move reasonably well.

“Shouldn't I help you walk?”

“No need.”

Mer approached him with the question, but Eugene shook his head. Standing before the mirror, he shook out his wet hair.

“How does your first shower in five days feel?”

“Same as always?”

“Your hair was greasy and matted for five days.”

“No, it wasn't. I took care of it with magic every day.”

“Then why bother taking a shower?”

“Because I felt like it?”

“Yes, yes.”

Chuckling, Mer dragged a chair behind Eugene. She climbed onto it and began combing his hair. The warm air circulating nearby had already dried the hair that had been wet just moments ago.

“It doesn't need combing.”

“I'm doing it because I'm bored. And what do you mean, it doesn't need it? You seem to think hair sticking up every which way suits you, but I think you look better with it neatly combed down.”

“Know why? Because I'm handsome.”

“You're utterly shameless...”

While Mer grumbled and combed his hair, Eugene adjusted his clothes: the black Lionheart uniform. It was immaculate, without a single crease, but he still took the trouble to undo and refasten the buttons, paying particular attention to his appearance.

“What about the cloak?”

“That should be fine.”

With a sly little smile, Mer draped the Cloak of Darkness over his shoulders. When he looked in the mirror again, something about his neatly combed hair displeased him.

So he casually tousled it with his hand.

“Why would you do that!”

Mer puffed out her cheeks in indignation. Still, she did not insist on combing it again, instead slipping through the opening when Eugene lifted his cloak.

“Don't come out today unless I call you.”

“What do you take me for? I'm not so oblivious that you need to worry about me.”

The warp gate at Black Lion Castle.

There were remarkably few people there. This was nothing to be proud of. Waiting there were only Genos, who had arrived after Eugene; Ciel, who had managed to retain some consciousness among the sacrifices; Klein, the newly appointed head of the Council of Elders; and Diad, captain of the Sixth Division, who had personally taken charge of operating the warp gate.

“Those from Aroth will arrive first.”

After checking the time, Diad raised his staff. The warp gate lit up with a flash as the connection was completed.

A little later, the warp gate began to ripple. Lovellian emerged first, dressed in black formal attire. Though his eyes met Eugene's first, he approached Klein, the new head of the Council of Elders, and offered his hand.

“It has been a long time.”

“If only we were meeting again under happier circumstances.”

Klein shook Lovellian's hand with a bitter smile.

Melkith's attire was surprisingly ordinary when she followed him through the warp gate: a lustrous black mink coat. Her knee-high leather boots, however, had heels so high that they clicked with every step.

“Hello!”

With a funeral held only days ago, and given the nature of the incident, a somber atmosphere hung over the castle... but Melkith paid it no mind. Looking around, she spotted Eugene and waved with a beaming smile.

“It's been a while for you too, young lady! You remember me, don't you?”

“... Yes.”

“Where's that captain who never acts her age? That strange woman who wears a wristwatch but checks the time with a pocket watch.”

“... Captain Carmen is with the main family.”

Who was she to say someone else didn't act her age? Ciel answered, feeling overwhelmed by Melkith's sunny smile.

“This is my first time at Black Lion Castle. Mind if I look around?”

“Please do that later. The family head will be here soon.”

“Hmm, that's true. I'll try to look suitably solemn.”

Why was she sidling up to him as though it were the most natural thing in the world? Ciel's eyebrow twitched as she glanced at Eugene and Melkith. Was it something like maternal affection? Well, that was possible. Eugene had never known a mother's love. Perhaps that was why he was close to an older, motherly woman of his mother's generation.

'... Wouldn't she be more his grandmother's generation?'

She looked like a beautiful woman in her twenties, but... Ciel could not let herself think any further. The moment she faced that thought squarely, she felt she would end up thinking something disrespectful about Carmen Lionheart—the strong, beautiful, undeniably admirable captain of the Third Division, and her direct superior...

“We are connected to Yuras.”

At Diad's announcement, Melkith leaned close to Eugene and whispered.

“I hear an inquisitor is coming. Have you ever met one?”

“No.”

“I dislike the Holy Empire, and I dislike inquisitors even more. Do you know why?”

“I do. Long ago, the Holy Empire declared spirits heretical beings and persecuted spirit mages, didn't it?”

“Oh my, you know quite a lot! You must have been studying mages diligently.”

“Wasn't that an incredibly long time ago?”

“Well, yes. But they might still be persecuting spirit mages in secret, you know.”

Despite her words, Melkith's eyes were full of mischievous delight. Eugene stared into them, then snorted and muttered.

“You sound just like a grandmother scaring a child with horror stor—”

“Hmm? What was that? I can't hear you.”

While Melkith plugged her ears and went “Aaah,” the warp gate lit up.

Two people emerged. They wore blood-red robes over pitch-black uniforms—a color priests of the God of Light shunned—and black military caps. With their heavy tread in combat boots, the pair looked more like soldiers than clergy.

“I am Atarax of Maleficarum. This is my disciple, Hemoria.”

Atarax was a man with long blond hair, while Hemoria, a woman, had shorter hair than he did and wore a black metal mask over her mouth. Her perfectly straight bob, as though cut with a knife, swayed as she looked around. Hemoria kept silent beyond the introduction, but Atarax spoke as if on her behalf.

“Has the family head not arrived yet?”

“He will arrive shortly. We have connected to Kiel.”

Maleficarum. Eugene stared at Atarax and Hemoria. That violent, merciless bureau of inquisition had existed three hundred years ago as well. Honestly, Eugene bore them no particular ill will. Their ruthlessness toward black mages and demons? Hamel had shared that trait in his previous life. In the world of three hundred years ago, Maleficarum had been one of the forces allied with Hamel and the Hero.

'... Isn't that organization rather outdated now?'

This was a world where they could no longer hunt black mages indiscriminately or treat demons as enemies. It surprised him that a bureau of inquisition founded solely for those purposes still existed.

The warp gate rippled.

Eugene straightened and watched it. A moment later, Gilead, the Lionheart family head, passed through. Months had passed since Eugene last saw him, and his appearance had changed markedly. His cheeks were sunken, with dark circles beneath his eyes. His beard was neatly trimmed, but Eugene noticed cuts on his cheeks and chin.

'... Someone of his skill cut himself shaving?'

His frame seemed to have shrunk in those few months, too. Apparently, the affair with Eward had shattered him mentally.

“... Family head.”

“I am sorry.”

Klein approached with a deep sigh, and Gilead immediately dropped to his knees. Startled, Klein pulled him to his feet.

“Now, now... don't do this.”

“... How could I not? All of this happened because of my foolishness. H-how... am I to take responsibility for this...?”

“... We will discuss that later. Please, stand up. ... Your children are watching.”

Sighing repeatedly, Klein patted Gilead's shoulder. Only then did a light return to Gilead's dulled eyes. He turned to look at Ciel and Eugene.

Normally, Ciel would have welcomed her father with a smile, but she simply could not do that now. Holding back the tears rising within her, she bowed her head to him.

“... Ah...!”

With a sorrowful sigh, Gilead approached them. He drew both Ciel and Eugene into his arms and bowed his head deeply.

“... I heard what happened. Thank goodness... you're safe.”

“... Father...”

Ciel buried her face in her father's chest and cried a little. Eugene shed no tears, instead glancing at Gilead's arm around his shoulders. His impression that Gilead had grown smaller was no illusion. His arms really were thinner than they had been a few months earlier. Only five days had passed since Eward's rampage. In that short time, Gilead had suffered enough anguish to hollow his cheeks and shrink the muscles of his arms.

“... Thank you, Eugene.”

“... I only did what I should have.”

“Without you, it would have been too late for everything.”

“... I was fortunate. And it wasn't my strength alone.”

As he spoke, Eugene glanced at the two inquisitors from Maleficarum. Atarax and Hemoria were openly staring at his empty waist.

“... The Holy Sword is safe.”

“That is a relief.”

Atarax smiled and replaced the military cap he had removed.

“Now, then... please lead the way. To the place where Eward Lionheart—that devil—performed his forbidden, kin-defiling ritual of calamity.”

Devil.

Gilead's eyes wavered at the word. Yet he was in no position to protest. With a brief sigh, he released Eugene and Ciel from his embrace.

“Follow me.”

Genos disliked Maleficarum itself, but even among its members, Atarax's name was notorious for sordid reasons, and he knew it well.

'... Atarax the Punisher... and Hemoria the Guillotine.'

Given the incident, he had expected someone important to come. But never had he imagined it would be the Punisher himself. His disciple Hemoria had a fearsome reputation every bit as great as Atarax's.

“What of the survivors?”

“They are all safe.”

“Have they suffered no mental corruption?”

“Fortunately not.”

“Corruption can spread from even the smallest speck. Once we have inspected the ritual site, we will interview each survivor individually.”

“You don't sound as though you're asking permission.”

“This is something that must be done. Surely you don't want any more members of your family falling into corruption?”

Klein's expression hardened at Atarax's words. With uncharacteristic hostility in his eyes, he glared at the inquisitor. Hemoria reacted to that look, placing a finger on the mask covering her mouth and glaring back at Klein.

“We did not come to mourn Lionheart's unfortunate incident or to assist in determining the truth.”

Atarax raised a hand and grasped Hemoria's shoulder.

“This is a bizarre, unprecedented incident in which remnants of Demon Kings defeated three hundred years ago ran amok. Maleficarum can no longer hunt black mages or demons... but if someone violates a taboo—specifically, commits the sin of ‘using’ humans—then no matter who the perpetrator may be, Maleficarum will not hesitate to hunt them down.”

“... And?”

“We came here to do what must be done. That is why we are not asking permission. Head of the Council, I understand your wish to shield your family's disgrace... but what if seeds of demonic corruption remain in the sacrifices' minds? What if the resulting madness someday drives them to attempt a diabolical ritual like Eward's?”

“Very well.”

Klein sighed deeply and shook his head.

“... But let me correct one thing. I have no wish to shield my family's disgrace. Blindly concealing it will only let it fester and rot. I was merely concerned that your interviews might be too rough.”

“The interviews will be civil and courteous.”

“I will observe them.”

“Of course. You are most welcome.”

They ventured deep into the forest. Finding the ritual site was not difficult. Several Black Lions were standing guard in the forest to keep demonic beasts from disturbing it.

“... Hmm.”

Melkith had been concentrating in silence ever since they entered the forest. She stopped for a moment, bent down, and stroked the soil with her hand.

“... Hmm.”

Her eyes narrowed. The soil she had brushed stirred, and tiny earthen people, each the size of a finger, wriggled upright.

“... Indeed, the spirit of darkness... seems to have been real... but this is quite unusual.”

Muttering, Melkith stroked the earthen figures with her finger.

“The earth spirits here... haven't properly blended with this land. They were driven here from other land. And... hmm... there are far too few primal spirits, too.”

Melkith scooped up a generous handful of soil. When she spread her fingers, it cascaded down like grains of sand.

“By the time the season changes, there probably won't be a single blade of grass left around here. How fascinating... This isn't so much that the land has died... Hmm, yes... I see. Were the land's primal spirits transformed into spirits of darkness?”

“Is that possible?”

“Possible? It's impossible. I haven't contracted with a spirit of darkness, and I don't want to, either, but I still know quite a lot about them. No spirit can interfere with or block spirits of an entirely different element. Not even a Spirit King.”

Melkith rose, chuckling.

“An ordinary spirit of darkness has no power to forcibly assimilate primal spirits of another element. And... you say it blocked the eyes and ears of the renowned Black Lion Knights? Haha! Now that is impossible.”

“It wasn't merely a spirit.”

“Yes, which makes it mysterious... and utterly fascinating. Remnants of Demon Kings defeated three hundred years ago inhabited weapons... I can understand that much. But for those remnants to become a spirit? There are already numerous papers on the close relationship between mana and spirits, but a Demon King becoming a spirit...”

“Perhaps that means spirits are heretical beings.”

Atarax muttered the words.

“What bullshit.”

Melkith snorted and raised a hand. The earthen figures returned to soil, and the ground writhed and rose. It was the wave of earth Eugene had seen in the Lionheart forest.

“Anyone spouting bullshit like that doesn't deserve to ride this magnificent wave of earth.”

“Stop embarrassing yourself and just walk.”

Lovellian scolded her.

“Here it is.”

They had arrived at the ritual site.

“Over there... that's where the ritual took place. I wonder if anything's left? He drew magic circles on the ground... and in the air as well, but those are gone.”

“...”

“And over there was... a pitch-black tree. I'm not sure you could call it a tree, but, well, it looked like one. The sacrifices hung from branches that writhed like tentacles. They were swallowed up in black darkness.”

Eugene glanced at Ciel as he spoke.

“I wasn't captured as a sacrifice, so if you want to know what that felt like, ask Ciel, not me. She remained fairly conscious even in that situation.”

“... Good heavens...”

Looking around, Lovellian gave a disbelieving laugh.

“This was more violent than I imagined.”

“It was a pretty gruesome ritual.”

“No, I don't mean the ritual.”

Lovellian pointed ahead.

“That only one innocent person was killed or injured seems like a miracle.”

The traces of battle. Lovellian looked down into a huge hole that seemed to pierce the very bottom of the earth. Melkith whistled as she surveyed the surroundings.

“Incredible. There aren't any spirits in the ground at all!”

“Vile.”

Atarax narrowed his eyes and raised a hand. With his white-gloved fingers, he ‘grasped’ the empty air and rubbed it. His glove instantly turned black.

“... To think I would encounter such potent, ominous demonic energy somewhere outside the demon lands...”

“It was worse five days ago.”

Eugene spoke casually, then gave a startled twitch and lifted his cloak.

“... Without the power of the Holy Sword and Akasha, I wouldn't have survived here either.”

He was already drawing plenty of attention. He did not want to attract even more and invite suspicion.

So he brought out the Holy Sword and Akasha. Akasha drew little interest, but everyone's eyes lit up at the sight of the Holy Sword in Eugene's hand. It was inevitable. That legendary sword had shared in the myths of Vermouth the Great and slain three Demon Kings. Since Vermouth, the Lionheart family heads had worn it only for family ceremonies; not a single person had been recognized as its master.

“... Oh...”

Atarax gazed at the Holy Sword with deeply moved eyes. Even Hemoria, who had not uttered a single word so far, stared at it in astonishment.

“... Altair...!”

“Yes.”

“At first, I thought the report was mistaken... To think a master of Altair has truly appeared...!”

“I'm sorry for keeping it secre—”

“You need not say that.”

Atarax shook his head, cutting Eugene off.

“There must have been good reason you could not publicly announce yourself as the Holy Sword's master. Besides, Kristina, the candidate for sainthood, and His Holiness the Pope already knew, did they not?”

Atarax threw both hands up.

“Hemoria! Applause for the master of the Holy Sword!”

Without a word, Hemoria raised her hands and clapped. Atarax's applause was far louder than hers.

“Enough.”

Atarax's clapping stopped abruptly.

“Now, master of the Holy Sword. Tell us the heroic tale of your battle against the devil that sought to descend here!”

“I swung the Holy Sword, and he died?”

“...”

“Went ‘Aaargh,’ too.”

Muttering that, Eugene walked toward the altar where the magic circles remained.