Chapter 210 - Damn Reincarnation

Darkroom

There was no time to think about the corpse-strewn battlefield or the man. He had already vanished, and another being had abruptly appeared and was staring at Eugene.

A mixture.

That was his first thought. The thing that had suddenly appeared was both Hamel from three hundred years ago and Eugene of the present.

Eugene stood still, glaring at it. Indeed, it felt nothing like an illusion. They were not close, but his razor-sharp senses could feel its presence.

... Quiet breathing.

They were breathing in exactly the same way. Neither was consumed by excitement or tension; it was as though they were observing the entire situation from a few steps removed. Both held swords, but their fingers were loose. So were their entire bodies. They were simply standing there.

He did not know whether the projection had a sense of self—but if it truly reflected him, it must be studying its opponent just as Eugene was.

'... Is Hamel blended into Eugene Lionheart?'

That was how it looked.

Its hair was cropped short, but it was the ash gray that symbolized the Lionhearts. Its golden eyes were as keen as a wild beast's. Its build... Was it a little bigger than him?

'Surely this body isn't going to grow any more... No, that's not it. That isn't my future. It's just a projection of my imagined ideal.'

He had no complaints about this body. It was incomparably better than the one from his previous life. But his life as Hamel had been longer and more turbulent than his life as Eugene, and he still remembered his former body vividly.

Besides, Eugene Lionheart had yet to surpass Hamel Dynas. Given the right conditions, he could overwhelm Hamel in momentary output, but in terms of overall balance, Hamel still had the edge.

Hamel had been a little taller than Eugene. Not enough to make a meaningful difference in reach, but... Looking at the projection's appearance and the scars across its face, Eugene felt both nostalgia and derision.

"I never thought those ugly scars were part of my ideal."

Could it hold a conversation? The question crossed his mind, but the projection did not answer. Well, he hadn't said it expecting an answer anyway.

"If anything, those scars prove how unskilled I was."

CRACK.

His fingers tightened around the hilt. That slight exertion alone changed the air around Eugene. He surveyed the weapons embedded in the ground. Every one was familiar. Ordinary weapons, without the special abilities of Vermouth's weapons. ... His heart throbbed with anticipation.

CRACKLE.

The Ring Flame Formula activated in an instant, sparking lightning flames. His body accelerated at once and leaped across space. He moved so quickly that it almost looked like the Blink spell. Closing the distance to the projection in a flash, Eugene swung the sword he had held at his waist.

There was no collision. Not even a graze. The projection evaded the sword so cleanly and perfectly that even Eugene could only marvel. It almost felt as if he had deliberately swung wide.

The projection swayed. Its presence, so intense during their standoff, was faint up close. That meant it was difficult to read. A chill ran through Eugene, and he pulled back. But the projection's sword was just a little faster than his evasion.

The blade did not cut him directly. The Aura Shield he raised at the last instant blocked the slash. But it wasn't over. The left arm, hidden behind the projection's body—its shoulder shifted, and the arm moved. Another sword was already in its left hand.

"Hah."

The startled sound escaped Eugene before he knew it.

Space was cut, cut, and cut again. The projection uttered no battle cries. The swords in its hands writhed as though alive. That was how it looked. Controlling the distance was impossible. The attacks were so fast that Eugene's thoughts broke into fragments. Blocking and deflecting the slashes, he was gradually driven backward.

Ever since his previous life, Eugene had known how to use most weapons. No, he had wielded them exceptionally well. A sword? Of all his many weapons, that was one he was particularly confident he wielded well.

But.

Wielding one sword and wielding two at once were by no means the same. Eugene had been quite skilled with twin swords in his previous life, and during the upheaval at Black Lion Castle, he had even overwhelmed Hector Lionheart with dual swordsmanship.

But by Eugene's exceedingly high standards, his dual swordsmanship fell short. Not once had he thought he was better with two swords than with one. That was why he had rarely used twin swords in his previous life, and the same held true after his reincarnation.

'This isn't just a little better.'

He could not break through with a single sword. What if he used two as well? He would fail to overcome the disparity in skill and get butchered.

CRACK!

Despite its coating of sword force, his blade was beginning to crack under the repeated collisions. Eugene took a step back, and the projection surged forward, swinging both swords.

The slashes crossed, and Eugene thrust his sword between them as though he had been waiting for that moment. Rather than detonating the sword force around the cracked blade, he compressed it.

BOOOM!

The sword force swallowed back into the blade shattered it. Hundreds of fragments blasted toward the projection. Without checking the result, Eugene released the hilt and leaped backward.

He had already noted its location. A metal whip. The moment he seized it, the mana he poured into it set it dancing. Imbued with the White Flame Formula's mana, the whip became a long tongue of flame.

The dust raised by the explosion drifted silently. The whip piercing through it could advance no farther.

A spear.

The projection now held a long spear, and its silent thrust had wound the whip around it like a skein of thread. The mana Eugene poured in could advance no farther. Just as Eugene could freely control his mana, so could the projection.

A contest of strength.

BOOOM!

Their mana collided midway between them, and the ground caved in. Feeling a tingling in his hand, Eugene jerked the whip toward himself. In a simple contest of strength, the projection would probably win. He knew that too. He had intended to look for an opening during their tug-of-war...

But instead of pulling back, the projection kicked off the ground the moment Eugene exerted the slightest force. In an instant, the distance between them vanished. Eugene immediately dropped the whip and leaped backward, but the spear struck the ground a fraction sooner.

An explosion.

Eugene's body soared higher than his jump would have carried him. He took no damage. Rather than resisting the blast, he let it propel him.

Eyes wide, Eugene looked down. A huge crater had opened in the ground. Releasing the spear, the projection raised its head to look up at him.

Dull golden eyes.

Its face was entirely different, but the color and emptiness of those eyes reminded him of Vermouth.

The instant he recognized that, a chill ran down Eugene's spine, and an eerie, destructive urge to kill welled up deep in his chest. The sixth star of the White Flame Formula. Six stars rotated. The flames Eugene summoned spread across the Darkroom's sky.

The projection did not leap up to intercept him. The lingering mana from the explosion that had swept the ground rushed back into it all at once, forming a vast, surging blaze.

Eugene compared the flames around himself to those billowing below. Something felt wrong.

'So that's it.'

He needed no verification. Eugene committed himself to that certainty without a trace of hesitation. Wreathed in flames, he plunged straight down.

Their flames intertwined. Mana unleashed without restraint ate into space. The Darkroom, created through a power unlike magic, could withstand even forces this immense arising and colliding within it.

BOOOM!

No weapon was swung. It was just an ordinary, simple kick. But with an absurd amount of mana behind the blow, even a simple kick could crush space itself.

Eugene went flying backward. The attack struck with such weight that his defense was meaningless. Was his arm crushed? Had he worn Agaroth's Ring, he could have tried to heal himself, but the ring was not on his hand now.

'My left arm... '

Crushed or not, he could still use it if he wanted to. Holding the dangling arm together with mana, Eugene landed. When he raised his head to look ahead, the projection was already close.

He was confident in unarmed combat too. But he could gain no advantage in a fistfight against the projection. He punched, kicked, tried to grab it and throw it down... He attempted all manner of approaches, but each was blocked or diverted before it could take shape.

'I'm starting to understand.'

In the process, he suffered four counterattacks. Now he was limping on one leg, blood rose in his throat with every breath, and his crushed left arm had been severed at the forearm.

'It's matching me.'

Now he understood why they had called it a mirror.

Eugene had chosen to fight barehanded, but the projection had no reason to do so. Yet it had fought him barehanded all the same. It had been the same at the beginning. When Eugene attacked with a sword, the projection had met him with weapons as well.

'The difference... is just a little more.'

It was a little faster than Eugene was now. A little stronger. The same held true of its mana. Its flames were a little stronger than Eugene's, so he could never surpass it by fighting normally.

Then should he mix in unconventional moves and seek an opening? No. That wasn't working either. He had already tried several times, only to be toyed with each time.

'To overcome that little more... '

The Darkroom.

Eugene understood this space more clearly now. It was that certainty that had led him to tear off his arm.

Could he win with magic? No, he couldn't. Eugene readily admitted it. If that projection truly remained a little stronger than Eugene, the same would apply to magic. And a difference in the level of magic was difficult to overturn. If the magic itself was elevated to a higher level, victory would be far out of reach no matter how skillfully Eugene used his spells.

He had to choose a direction. Weapon techniques? Honestly, he wasn't confident he could surpass their utmost limits. No, he didn't need to outstrip it in technique. Given what that projection was, a more certain way to defeat it than perfecting his skills would be—

'Creating something I don't have right now.'

Rather than blindly trying to surpass himself, he had to add something to himself. That was what this Darkroom was for. An opponent a little stronger than him. And if that opponent was a projection of himself, the answer was to add something new, something he did not yet know.

"Easier said than done."

Eugene glanced at his mangled left arm. ... It hurt. It had been a long time since he had taken this much punishment. But even after so long, pain was familiar, and his body did not freeze for fear of suffering more.

The dangling arm was in the way. With his own hand, Eugene tore off the left arm he could no longer use. Pain turned his mind blank, but he bit his lip and swallowed his groan. Then he summoned flames and burned away the entire bleeding wound.

'Are you telling me to invent a finishing move?'

Eugene spat out the blood pooling in his mouth. ... He didn't particularly want to think about it, but...

He considered the Hamel Style. Embarrassing as it was to say aloud, the closest things Eugene had to finishing moves were, after all, the Hamel Style techniques.

'I used Parry, Lightning Counter, and Divine Aura of Destruction in every fight... '

He had frequently used Ten Thousand Thunderbolts, Asura's Frenzied Slaughter, Dragon Burst, and Cyclone too. But the particularly powerful Hamel Style techniques, the ones Eugene himself had regarded as true finishing moves, were...

The Hamel Style's secret art, Ignition.

The Hamel Style's Seventh Form, Dead End.

The Hamel Style's Ninth Form, Infinite Purgatory.

'I use Lightning Flash all the time, so it isn't a finishing move... At this point, the only thing to add would be the Empty Sword.'

Should he try them first? Eugene was thankful he wasn't wearing the Cloak of Darkness right now, and that Mer wasn't here to mock him mercilessly afterward.

He placed his right hand on his chest. He was full of openings, but the projection did not attack. His fingers dug into his chest, and his heartbeat quickened.

Ignition activated. The dwindling flames surged high. With a deep sigh, Eugene kicked a fallen sword up from the floor. Catching it in his only remaining hand, he lowered himself into a stance.

The projection took up a sword too. It showed no sign of using Ignition, but if it was literally a projection, it would have no need to imitate even that. Eugene focused his mind, condensed his sword force, and began layering it.

One layer.

Two layers.

Then three.

That was Eugene's current limit. Black spots spread through the flames, staining them a dark blue. Simply maintaining a triple-layered Empty Sword made him feel as though he were suffocating and his heart would burst. So he stopped trying to maintain it any longer and swung the Empty Sword as he stepped forward.

Dark blue flames slashed across the world. Eugene's projection stood at their center. Before the Empty Sword's slash could engulf it, it raised its sword. The motion looked exceedingly simple. In truth, it was neither difficult nor complicated.

Just as Eugene had used the Empty Sword, so did the projection.

It raised its sword high.

Then slashed downward.

The Empty Sword's slash vanished. It was a disheartening, astonishing sight, but Eugene was not surprised. Rather, all of it confirmed his understanding of the Darkroom and the projection. He also understood why Carmen, Gilead, and Gion had not explained it in detail. Knowing beforehand might make someone complacent, and that could diminish the meaning of the trial.

'Not that I would be.'

Merely swinging the triple-layered Empty Sword strained his body. Eugene forced his creaking body forward. The projection hurled itself toward him as though in response.

His lowered sword swept just above the ground. As it rose, the compressed sword force burst with the slash. Dragon Burst. It achieved little. Before he could detonate the sword force, the projection brought its sword down and suppressed the explosion.

Eugene reacted immediately. He pulled his sword out sideways to keep it from being pinned as well. His shoulder and arm felt beyond creaking, as though they were breaking, but the sword paths he envisioned instantly unfolded in reality.

Asura's Frenzied Slaughter.

Lines of slashes hacked space to pieces. And the projection? It stepped back several paces and whittled away the slashes from outside rather than getting caught in the flurry.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

Swords scraped together, and sword force shattered. Sparks scattered. Beyond them, Eugene's eyes flashed.

Dead End.

The lines of slashes created by Asura's Frenzied Slaughter were all thinly extended strands of sword force.

When Eugene pulled his sword back, those strands moved in unison and bound the projection. Normally, mere contact should have sliced its Aura Shield and body into chunks of meat, but the Aura Shield around the projection—no, its Divine Aura of Destruction—was devouring Eugene's Dead End instead.

Even so.

Eugene did not hesitate to chain his techniques together. It was a combination he had favored in his previous life. Press the opponent with Asura's Frenzied Slaughter, trap them with Dead End, and finally...

He stepped forward and drew his sword back.

With another step, he thrust.

It was not a simple thrust. At the sword's tip, sword force compressed to its utmost limit had formed a tiny bead. As he thrust, the compressed sword force swelled—and exploded at its destination.

Infinite Purgatory. A bomb of slashes, created by controlling sword force to its absolute limit. Slashes coiling through the air converged on a single point, burst, and converged again. When he had shown it to Genos at Black Lion Castle, it had fallen short of his expectations in many respects. But unleashed with the sixth star of the White Flame Formula and Ignition, Infinite Purgatory would sweep away everything in the space it captured.

Or it should have.

"Ha."

Eugene gave a hollow laugh and drew his sword back.

He watched how the projection broke through Infinite Purgatory. The Hamel Style's Parry and Lightning Counter. Within that confined space, it swept aside every slash raining down indiscriminately. But it did not emerge unscathed. Of course not. Being just a little stronger and faster than Eugene was not enough to respond perfectly to that many slashes.

But.

Even covered in blood, the projection was in far better shape than Eugene. He could barely move a finger now. He had torn off his left arm, and he was limping. The pain in his lungs with every breath had worsened beyond control, until now he could scarcely breathe at all.

"All right."

Without hesitation, Eugene let go of his sword. The blood-soaked projection strode toward him.

"I'll come back another time."

The projection swung its sword and severed Eugene's neck.