Chapter 208 - Damn Reincarnation

Darkroom

Ciel Lionheart glared toward a corner of the training grounds with gloomy eyes. Auxiliary Bishop Kristina, who had been staying as a guest of the Lionhearts for the past few days, was there.

Ever since the competition against the White Dragon Knights, the White Lion and Black Lion Knights had been fired up, training and sparring almost every day. Holding back too much would defeat the purpose of sparring, so they fought close enough for their sword tips to narrowly graze each other.

As a result, several knights finished each training session with minor injuries. They were all skilled enough to avoid fatal wounds, but light injuries from blades grazing their skin were an everyday occurrence.

Of course, befitting a martial family, the Lionhearts had a variety of treatments at their disposal. Although they had no high-ranking clergy, they supplied their household with various potions without stinting and maintained a medical staff with both formal training and extensive experience. They also regularly sent enormous donations to the capital’s temple in preparation for emergencies.

If an accident serious enough to require divine magic occurred at the main estate, a high-ranking cleric from the capital’s temple would immediately rush over.

... In truth, a small cut required neither a doctor nor a cleric nor a potion. Knights who had reached that level possessed recuperative powers as formidable as their bodies. Unless an injury involved broken bones or damaged organs, it would heal completely within a day or two. The knights themselves knew how resilient their bodies were, so they thought little of such minor injuries.

And yet.

Those knights were lining up in front of Kristina, presenting their trivial wounds. It was not as though Ciel could not understand their feelings. After all, Kristina was no ordinary cleric. Even in the Holy Empire of Yuras, she was special—the only candidate for sainthood of her generation.

‘... If there’s only one candidate, can’t they just call her a saint?’

In any case, she was no ordinary cleric. None of the Lionheart knights were baptized followers of the faith of Light, but that did not mean they doubted the God of Light’s existence. Whatever else might be said, the God of Light was revered by countless people. Moreover, that deity bestowed the power to perform miracles upon countless believers.

Naturally, they wanted to experience a miracle wrought by the candidate for sainthood at least once.

“I don’t like this,” Ciel muttered.

“Neither do I.”

Mer nodded beside her. Licking the lollipop she had received earlier in Anisilla’s room, she glared at Kristina.

What was it they disliked?

Mer knew the truth about Kristina. That was why she knew it could not be helped.

Ciel did not know the truth about Kristina. She did not know that the smile which seemed unshakable under any circumstances was actually a carefully crafted mask, or that all that pretense was Kristina’s own way of navigating life, born from an unhappy past.

She did not know what Eugene had done during his few days in the Holy Empire. She knew nothing of the Spring of Light. Nor did she know that the soul of Anise the Faithful, a hero from three hundred years ago, dwelled within Kristina Rogeris.

What Ciel did know was that Eugene had left for Yuras as soon as he received a letter.

She had no idea what on earth he had done there, but his stay in Yuras had coincided with Anise’s birthday festival, the most splendid and lavish festival in the empire.

And immediately after the festival’s first day ended, Eugene had returned with Auxiliary Bishop Kristina.

Why? To treat demonic sickness, the incurable disease that killed elves. Ciel liked the elves in the forest, too, and genuinely felt sorry for those whose remaining lives were cut short by the disease. So she understood why Kristina Rogeris, Auxiliary Bishop of the Alcarte diocese and candidate for sainthood, had decided to stay at the Lionheart main estate to treat them.

But... but something about it bothered her. After treating the knights following their training like this, Kristina headed straight into the forest around sunset. To treat the elves? That was what it looked like, but...

Strangely enough, Ciel saw Kristina with Eugene more often than she saw her with the elves. It was not as if the two of them were doing anything special alone together. From what Ciel had spied—no, observed—

when Eugene meditated in the middle of the forest, Kristina sat a few steps away, watching him with a faint smile. That was all. Even when Eugene finished meditating and began physically training, Kristina watched him with a smile, keeping enough distance not to get in his way.

Ciel narrowed her eyes at Kristina across the grounds.

Right now, Kristina was faintly smiling as she healed the Lionheart knights with divine magic. That smile was different from the one she showed Eugene in the forest. Different from the smile she wore when she ran into him in the mansion’s corridors, when she casually asked how he was, when she asked, [“Sir Eugene, do you have any special plans today?”] When she suggested, [“Sir Eugene, would you care to dine with me today?”] When she said, [“Sir Eugene, sleep well.”] And when she said, [“Sir Eugene, did you sleep well? What will you be doing for breakfast? Ah... at the family table with the other Lionhearts, you mean? Then I suppose I must sit at another table. Please do join me for a meal next time.”] It was different from the smile she wore then...

“Lady Ciel?”

Returning from her individual training in the forest, Dezra spotted Ciel and Mer. What on earth were those two doing behind a pillar when they usually did not seem to get along? What could have happened to put sparks in both their eyes? Dezra approached Ciel purely out of curiosity.

“Hey, hey, Dezra. Don’t. Just go...!”

At a third-floor window of the mansion, Cyan was crouched low, watching the training grounds. He called to Dezra in alarm. He kept his voice as low as he could while trying to stop her, but he could not halt her steps.

Because she had not heard him? No. She had heard him, but Dezra did not understand why she should stop. She was only approaching because she was curious. What was wrong with that?

“Lady Ciel, what are you doing there? Are you spying on Auxiliary Bishop Kristina?”

At that blunt question, Cyan’s face went pale. Unable to bear watching any longer, he shut the window and even drew the curtains.

“You pig...!”

Ciel’s tirade began.

* * *

The family head’s office.

Four people sat in the spacious room.

Gilead Lionheart.

Gion Lionheart.

Carmen Lionheart.

And Eugene Lionheart.

Of the three people sitting across from Eugene, Gion looked the most bewildered. He blinked his wide eyes several times before belatedly realizing that his mouth was open so far his jaw ached. First, he closed it.

Then he thought over what he had just heard. The words were not difficult enough to mishear. He simply had trouble comprehending them.

“... Hahaha!”

So Gion laughed. After several short bursts of laughter, he shrugged with a sigh.

“I feel rather pathetic now.”

Gion Lionheart.

He had been born the youngest of three brothers.

His eldest brother had cherished his younger siblings since childhood, blessed with the temperament and qualities befitting the eldest son.

His second brother was affable and had little ambition. He lacked the talent to compete with their eldest brother, and harbored no overblown aspirations.

Gion, the youngest, had both his brothers’ strengths and weaknesses. He had been born talented enough to compete with the eldest, and possessed an agreeable temperament. At the same time, like his second brother, he had little ambition.

A genius.

Like Gilead, Gion had heard that description many times since childhood. He had never behaved arrogantly. Having given up any claim to becoming family head early on, he had been free to live as he pleased. He swung his sword as he wished and wandered through various countries.

He had first taken up a sword at seven, then wielded it for thirty years.

Only then had he finally managed to reach the sixth star of the White Flame Formula. Gilead and Carmen had devoted just as much time to their swords.

“... When you summoned me so suddenly, I naturally thought this was to celebrate my becoming captain of the Fifth Division.”

“That certainly deserves celebration, too. But Gion, your appointment as captain was a certainty. It was hardly surprising.”

Carmen answered with an unlit cigar in her mouth. The thick cigar rested between her lips at an exquisite angle, neither drooping nor interfering with her pronunciation. To Eugene, that was a remarkable feat in itself.

“But that brat reaching the sixth star of the White Flame Formula at twenty is more than enough to surprise anyone.”

“Twenty hardly tells the whole story.”

Gion shook his head with a hollow laugh.

“Eugene has only been practicing the White Flame Formula for seven years.”

He could still recall that moment vividly. After the Bloodline Succession Ceremony ended and Eugene was adopted into the main family, Gion had taken him to the spirit vein deep in the forest. He had intended to help Eugene sense mana for the first time and guide him through the White Flame Formula.

Who would believe it? Thirteen years old. A little late to begin learning mana. Even allowing for the spirit vein’s dense mana, thirteen-year-old Eugene had sensed and manipulated it as soon as he sat down. Then, immediately after Gion taught him the White Flame Formula, he had circulated it on his own, without any further assistance.

“Don’t we all know perfectly well what an absurd genius he is?”

Carmen snorted and set down the cigar. She and Gilead had already heard about Eugene’s achievement with the White Flame Formula a few days earlier. Having had ample opportunity to be astonished then, they could now remain composed.

“... I know, but it’s still hard to believe.”

Gion reined in his astonishment and cleared his throat.

At present, only three Lionhearts had reached the sixth star of the White Flame Formula: Gilead, the family head; Gion, captain of the Black Lion Knights’ Fifth Division; and Eugene.

And Carmen alone had surpassed the sixth star and reached the seventh.

The barrier to the White Flame Formula’s sixth star was formidable. Even Klein, Carmen’s younger brother and head of the Council of Elders, remained at the fifth star.

“... Have you already explained the changes that come with reaching the sixth star?”

“Yes.”

Gilead answered calmly and raised his hand. White flames flared around his body. Circulating the White Flame Formula, he guided them to his fingertips.

The sight was a little different from the commonly known White Flame Formula. The tips of the fiercely burning flames sharpened like awls, then curved like bent blades.

The White Flame Formula underwent a major change upon reaching the sixth star. As Eugene had surmised, the experience accumulated through training and combat—or rather, the very self wielding the White Flame Formula—became one with it.

Gilead’s White Flame Formula looked less like flames than countless blades surrounding his body. Ultimately, they were flames of mana refined to the utmost, but the instant Gilead willed it, those sharp flames would become literal blades and unleash a barrage of white-flame slashes.

“... These flames are mine and mine alone,” Gilead murmured with a bitter smile.

Come to think of it, Eugene had never been taught any grand secret technique or ultimate art by Gilead, the family head. The same was true of Cyan and Ciel. Carmen also constantly took Ciel along with her, putting her through various kinds of training and overseeing her practice, but she had never taught Ciel any special technique either.

Taken to an extreme, the White Flame Formula was the only distinctly Lionheart teaching the main family’s adults passed on to the children. They taught them how to wield weapons, how to fight, and many other things, but honestly, those lessons could be learned outside the Lionheart family, too.

Eugene himself had learned the secret technique called the Empty Sword from Alchester. Yet the Lionhearts, supposedly the greatest martial family on the continent, possessed no secret technique like it...

“It can’t be helped.”

Gion let out a deep sigh and activated his White Flame Formula as well.

His flames had a temperament utterly opposite to Gilead’s. If Gilead’s flames were sharp blades, Gion’s felt like leisurely flowing waves. His inclinations and habits were woven into them, making them flames optimized for him alone.

Put very simply, it changed the nature of the mana that formed the flames. Eugene, at least, could imitate flames like those. But imitation could not reproduce the possibilities inherent in their flames. That was why the Lionhearts could not possess a special secret technique like the Empty Sword.

“In the end, your innate nature is bound to be reflected in your sword. The White Flame Formula infuses that nature into its flames. If we told you beforehand about the changes that come at the sixth star, you would become conscious of them from childhood.”

“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but one wrong step could leave you chasing an illusion, insisting on wearing clothes that don’t fit.”

Carmen extended her gloved fist in demonstration. The flames of her White Flame Formula were not particularly large. But the mana comprising them was packed densely together, concentrating far more power than their appearance suggested.

“So we deliberately kept it hidden. The idea is for you to reach that level by pursuing your own martial path, without being conscious of this.”

After watching the three sets of flames, Eugene circulated his White Flame Formula. The stars in his heart spun, and flames blazed fiercely. His flames were far larger and brighter than those of the other three. They were also so menacing that merely approaching them felt as though it would mean being devoured and burned to death.

“... I see.”

Gion gave a wry smile as he studied Eugene’s flames. With a flare, he extinguished his own flowing flames and shook his head.

“Now I understand why you summoned me as well, Brother.”

“Holding back won’t be possible,” Carmen muttered.

Listening to their exchange, Eugene extinguished his flames and tilted his head.

“I’m the one who hasn’t heard any details, though.”

He had thought they might throw him a congratulatory party for reaching the sixth star of the White Flame Formula. But when Gilead and Carmen first heard about it yesterday and saw his flames, instead of simply celebrating, they had displayed an inexplicable tension.

“... Do you know what lies beneath the main estate?”

“Of course. There’s a food storehouse underground, isn’t there? The servants’ quarters, too... and farther down, the Treasury.”

“Deeper than that.”

That left him even more baffled. Rather than ask another question, Eugene silently watched Gilead.

“... Far beneath the main estate lies a chamber called the Darkroom.”

“The Darkroom?”

“Like the spirit vein in the forest, it is a legacy our great founder left for future generations. One of the reasons the main estate has had to remain in the same place for three hundred years...”

“To put it simply.”

Carmen cut Gilead off.

“Eugene Lionheart.”

“Yes.”

“Today, you must shatter a world.”

“Pardon?”

“So that you may be born anew.”

Did he really have to participate in this conversation? Eugene seriously considered the question. Wasn’t Carmen simply spouting whatever she pleased? Yet Gion and Gilead looked far too grave and serious for that.

“... Um... am I supposed to break a mirror... or an egg?”

“... What on earth are you talking about? This is no time for jokes.”

‘You fcking...’ *

Eugene’s brows furrowed sharply when Carmen rebuked him with a stern expression.

“There’s no need to overthink it.”

Carmen raised a finger and pointed at Eugene.

“You will enter the Darkroom, look back upon yourself, kill yourself, and be born anew.”

So much for not overthinking it...

Eugene could not make the slightest sense of what Carmen was saying.