Chapter 153 - Damn Reincarnation

Interrogation

Though its color had faded, the magic circle itself remained on the ground. The two tower masters, Lovellian and Melkith, approached it with gleaming eyes.

“This is ancient script, right?”

“At first glance, it looks like the Gels language.”

“The squiggles do look similar.”

“There are structural similarities, but...”

“There are so many ancient scripts...”

“It could be an ancient demonic script.”

“True. You said this knowledge came from a remnant of a Demon King, right? Shouldn't... Balzac have come for this?”

“We couldn't invite that suspicious fellow. I am quite well versed in ancient scripts myself, so let us examine it a little further first.”

Lovellian and Melkith carefully examined the magic circle, engrossed in their own conversation. Eugene watched them for a moment before raising Akasha in his left hand.

“This is the rest of what I remember.”

The magic circle preserved in his memory took shape in the air. Since he had not fed it any mana, it did not function. But Hemoria immediately reacted to what he had done.

She stepped in front of the magic circle drawn in the air and glared at Eugene. Her eyes were narrowed, her irises ruby-red. Eugene could feel hostility seething in their depths.

“... What is it?”

She was a strange woman. The black metal mask covering her entire mouth resembled a muzzle strapped onto a vicious dog. Wasn't wearing something like that uncomfortable? Of course it was. She would have to remove it every time she ate or drank.

“If you have something to say, say it yourself.”

Hemoria said nothing. Instead, a grinding sound came from inside her metal mask. Was she grinding her teeth? Or was there an actual gag inside it? Come to think of it, Hemoria had not spoken once since stepping through the warp gate.

“My apologies.”

Atarax took Hemoria by the shoulder and pulled her back. Eugene saw his fingers briefly tighten around her shoulder, but her expression did not change. She merely continued glaring at Eugene.

“My disciple is stricter than I am in certain respects.”

Atarax smiled and patted her shoulder.

“The Hero chosen by the Holy Sword...”

“I'd prefer you didn't call me that.”

“Yes, I was thinking it would be rather cumbersome to say all that every time.”

Atarax turned to look at the magic circle.

“... I understand that this cannot be helped, but... sharing this horrific magic circle with two tower masters of Aroth, and the fact that it exists in your mind, Lord Eugene... these are all difficult things for us to accept.”

“Did you hear that, Red Tower Master? His Lordship the Inquisitor seems to think you and I will study this shitty magic circle and plot something wicked.”

“It is hardly implausible. The mages I know do not hesitate to do insane things to satisfy their interests and thirst for knowledge.”

“I can't deny that, but a mage who's become a tower master went insane long ago. My madness doesn't have the time to get distracted by this paltry, perverse magic.”

Melkith snorted and waved a hand.

“The same goes for the Red Tower Master standing silently beside me. Hmm? Don't you feel something? Mmmm...! Every hair on my body is twitching, ready to stand on end from killing intent and terror...! Do you know why?”

Melkith shook with wildly exaggerated shudders, but she was not lying. Eugene felt that killing intent too. It emanated from Lovellian, who was clenching his teeth hard enough to crush his molars.

“Because the Red Tower Master is angry! Do you have any idea how much hatred for black magic writhes behind that handsome, gentlemanly facade? Lovellian Sophis, the Red Tower Master! He's mellowed with age, but until about thirty years ago, he was known as the Red Tower's Mad Dog. His temper was atrocious.”

“Let us not dredge up our embarrassing pasts, Spirit Princess of the White Tower.”

“Aaaaargh!”

It was a nickname from her youth that she never wanted to hear again. Melkith covered both ears and squawked like a crow.

“... But it is true that I am furious. Inquisitor Atarax, I will never study or use this magic circle for personal gain. If you wish, I will even swear it on my mana.”

“The Holy Empire is an ally of Aroth.”

Atarax smiled and shook his head.

“I merely issued a warning in my capacity as an inquisitor. I have no intention of demanding an oath. I already know why you hate black magic, Red Tower Master...”

GRIND.

The sound came from inside Hemoria's mask once again.

“... Lionheart. The descendants of Vermouth the Great... After an incident like this, it would be foolish to place faith in the purity and righteousness of that blood... But surely Lord Eugene, who has been acknowledged by the Holy Sword, will not be corrupted by black magic.”

The fingers still resting on Hemoria's shoulder tapped it twice. The grinding inside her mask stopped, and the hostility vanished from her red eyes. She bowed her head to Eugene and stepped back with Atarax.

“Hemoria. Say nothing and do nothing. Stand here and watch the tower masters decipher the magic circle.”

Hemoria nodded. Was he leaving her to keep watch on them? Thinking this, Eugene glanced at Gilead. Since arriving here, Gilead had grown even paler. He had bitten his trembling lips so much that beads of blood dotted them.

“... Family Head.”

Klein approached, looking at him with pity.

“... This diary was found in Eward's room at Count Bosar's mansion.”

He took an expensive leather-bound diary from inside his clothes.

“... According to the Black Lions who searched the mansion... it was in the top drawer of Eward's desk, almost as though he wanted it found.”

“Isn't that adorable?”

Atarax burst out laughing.

“He must have imagined quite a glorious future. Completing the ritual here... sacrificing those who mocked and dismissed him... gaining power and making a leisurely escape. But if he did that, no one would know why he'd done all this, so he left a diary behind himself.”

He had left a diary he had no reason to leave. Eugene thought exactly as Atarax did. That imbecile Eward had wanted to brag about why and how he had been able to do all this.

Gilead silently accepted the diary and opened it. Eugene expected Atarax to interfere with his reading it, but surprisingly, the inquisitor let him read without any interference.

“... Ah...”

It did not take Gilead long to finish the diary. He let out a long, sorrowful sigh and shook his head several times before raising his chin to gaze at the sky.

“... Father...”

Ciel spoke in a despondent voice and hugged his arm. Gilead wept for a while, then handed the diary to Eugene.

“Is it all right for me to read this?”

“... You were there at the end of his life. I think you have the right to read it too.”

There was no reason to refuse. Eugene was quite curious about the circumstances behind this incident himself.

'... Well, would you look at that...'

The first half or so of the diary was not worth reading. Lamentation, hatred, and self-loathing. They did not even form rambling sentences, merely stumbling lists of words describing how much scorn he had suffered in Count Bosar's household and how often his mother, Theonis, had berated him.

As Eward's father, Gilead could not help being plunged into profound grief by such contents, but Eugene felt nothing. He had no interest in this. He continued turning the pages.

The contents changed abruptly at this entry:

'Dominic Lionheart came to see me.'

That was where it began.

Even Dominic himself had been unable to explain exactly why he had visited Eward. An impulse—that was all it had been to Dominic. But Eward understood the reason more precisely.

A remnant of a Demon King, a spirit of darkness, had spoken to him. It dwelled within the Crushing Hammer that Dominic possessed, and it had taken an interest in the blood of the main family flowing through Eward's body.

'The spirit said I was special. It said many people had held it since it became a spirit, but I was the first to hear its voice.'

'When I asked how long it had existed, it said it had been a spirit for a hundred years. Spirit of darkness. Are you a Demon King? The lingering thoughts of a Demon King that was destroyed... That is all. It is not a Demon King. It is not an insignificant being. The spirit said I was special, and the spirit is special too, a fitting match for me.'

'I want to become a great mage, not a spirit mage.'

'The spirit said it did not want to remain a spirit. Then what must I do? The spirit said it would show me how.'

'The ritual requires the blood of an enemy. Ciel and Cyan? Those twins will make excellent sacrifices. So much time has passed that the blood must have thinned, but the spirit said it would still hold great significance if I, who am special, became its vessel and offered my siblings' blood in sacrifice. Magic truly is marvelous.'

'The more sacrifices, the better.'

'Tomorrow, I leave this house. Mother, Grandfather, everyone blesses my future. Once the ritual is complete, I will become an archmage whom no one can dismiss.'

'I haven't decided where to go when everything is over. Pride wants to hold me up as a symbol of the main family's downfall and create a new Lionheart... But Dominic doesn't seem interested in that. Neither am I. I hate Lionheart.'

That was where the diary ended. Eugene closed it and handed it to the waiting Atarax.

“... I knew he wasn't in his right mind when we fought, but it seems he was already insane when he wrote that diary.”

The day before Eward left the mansion, he had been the only person there still alive. Count Bosar, Theonis, the entire household—Eward had already murdered them all.

“The power of a black magic ritual is amplified according to the nature of the taboo it violates.”

Atarax continued as he leafed through the diary.

“Vermouth the Great. The enemy of the Demon Kings slain three hundred years ago. The main family that inherited his blood... A legitimate son of that family... offering his own siblings as sacrifices. There could hardly be finer conditions for a black magic ritual. And it seems Eward's blood truly was rather special as well.”

The blood of an enemy.

Instead of forcing the ritual through, Eward had fixated on Eugene.

'It seems Eward wasn't the only one insisting on that.'

Vermouth was not the Demon Kings' only enemy. To the spirit of darkness, Eugene must have been an exceptional sacrifice it could never relinquish.

“This ‘Pride’ mentioned haphazardly throughout the diary. Is it a cancer within Lionheart?”

“Immediately after this incident, four of the Lionheart collateral families scattered across the continent disappeared. Several members of other families have vanished as well,” Klein replied.

“They must be the cancer within Lionheart that recruited Dominic and sought to use Eward.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“Not at all.”

Klein answered without a moment's hesitation.

“If Dominic had made off with the Demonic Spear and Crushing Hammer, they would have become dangerous. If Eward... had completed the ritual, they would have become something horrific. But neither happened. They parade the grandiose name of Pride, but they are nothing more than losers who abandoned everything they had and fled to save their own lives.”

“But if they become citizens of Helmuth, Lionheart's prestige will fall to the ground.”

“Do we have any prestige left to lose?”

Klein chuckled and shook his head.

“I would be grateful if they became citizens of Helmuth. Helmuth would want to boast that a great hero's family had walked into its embrace of their own accord... If they do that, the Black Lions will handle the rest.”

“Perhaps they'll become citizens of Nahama instead, or hide in the Great Forest of Samar.”

Atarax murmured as he closed the diary.

“... We have more or less finished deciphering the magic circle.”

Lovellian straightened from his crouch.

“Without the assistance of a black mage or a high-ranking demon from Helmuth, this is the best interpretation we can offer.”

“Please share your findings.”

“Reconstruction of the soul. Creation of a physical body.”

Lovellian's expression twisted.

“The spell's basic framework resembles summoning magic, though it is a jumbled mess.”

“You said creation of a physical body?”

“If the sacrifices had been offered properly, this magic circle would have summoned a vast number of demonic beasts from Helmuth. It would then have combined them to construct a new body.”

“... And reconstruction of the soul?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. What existed here was a spirit of darkness harboring a remnant of a Demon King, not a Demon King. But if the ritual had been completed... it would have become a Spirit King, a being of a higher order.”

Melkith paused and burst out laughing.

“Incredible, isn't it? That spirit of darkness tried to raise its own rank through independent, artificial means. Perhaps that's only to be expected of a Demon King's remnant. It attempted something no ordinary spirit could ever do.”

“... A Spirit King with a physical body...”

“It would not have attained the standing of a Demon King immediately, but we nearly saw the birth of a being that could become one at any time.”

Lovellian looked at Eugene as he spoke.

“Fortunately, that did not happen.”

“Blessings upon the Holy Sword and the Hero.”

Atarax laughed heartily and clapped.

“However.”

His applause stopped abruptly.

GRIND.

A metallic sound came from Hemoria's mask.

“It appears not everyone here died.”

THUD!

Atarax stamped his foot against the ground. A faint radiance enveloped his body, and the blackened, dead soil rose all at once.

CRUMBLE!

The floating soil trembled. Slowly, slowly, it moved toward the mouth of the enormous hole left by the fierce battle. Once it reached that spot, it swirled.

“... Hmm...!”

Lovellian let out a low groan too. No traces of magic remained there. Even Eugene, holding Akasha, could see none.

But the inquisitors of Maleficarum, the Holy Empire's bureau of inquisition, were hunters who had spent centuries training solely to pursue black magic and demons.

Atarax was among Maleficarum's most skilled members. Tracing the demonic energy lingering in this place, he uncovered the traces of black magic cast five days earlier.

“Reproducing the spell itself is impossible, but...”

Atarax continued as he grasped the soil wavering in the air.

“... This is... spatial transportation. Not Blink, but long-range... teleportation without a gate...”

“Hector.”

Eugene's face twisted.

“It seems that bastard escaped.”

“You didn't let him escape?”

Atarax smiled at Eugene. Eugene glared into those affable eyes and shrugged.

“What reason would I have to let him escape?”

“Perhaps you have a reason unknown to anyone else.”

“Me? Someone acknowledged by the Holy Sword?”

“I simply wish to examine every possibility. The Holy Sword does not constitute absolute proof of innocence.”

“I thought he was dead. If he escaped, he was far more capable than I gave him credit for.”

“Why didn't you check?”

“Do you think I didn't check because I couldn't be bothered?”

“Your carelessness allowed a rat to escape, Lord Eugene. There's no telling which granary that rat will creep into, devouring grain and spreading disease...”

“What the fuck? You've got to be kidding me.”

Eugene started to reply, then lost his temper.

“You think I fucking let him escape on purpose? That bastard who tried to fuck me over? I didn't fucking know! I had the Demonic Spear stabbing at me right in front of my eyes, the Crushing Hammer trying to smash my skull, and my so-called brother losing his fucking mind and joining forces with a spirit of darkness to make me a living sacrifice! How the fuck was I supposed to stop and check whether some bastard lying on the ground had escaped or gotten caught in the fighting and died?”

“Please calm down.”

“I'm perfectly calm. I'm just pissed off. Thinking about it is fucking ridiculous, and it makes me angry. Is the Holy Sword a fucking joke to you? Can you wield it?”

GRIND.

“Is she mute or what? Why has she been making that grinding noise all this time instead of speaking? If you don't like what I'm saying and you think I'm a piece of shit, stop grinding and fucking say so. Don't pretend you have no complaints while grinding away!”

At Eugene's roar, Atarax closed his mouth. Hemoria stopped making that grinding sound too and blinked.

“That's all.”

Eugene exhaled heavily and planted the Holy Sword in the ground.

“If you have any more complaints, or you want to give me shit, come pull this Holy Sword out first. Then you can talk.”

He folded his arms and stepped away from the sword.

“I don't want to take any fucking abuse from some loser who can't even draw the Holy Sword but pretends to be devout.”