Chapter 211 - Damn Reincarnation

Darkroom

“However remarkable the boy is, he won't come back victorious from his first encounter.”

CLICK, CLICK.

Carmen muttered as she opened and closed her lighter's lid. Gilead and Gion had heard that sound so many times it was making their heads spin, but neither said anything to her. Carmen might look the youngest of the three, but to the brothers, she was their aunt.

“No one in Lionheart history has ever cleared the Darkroom on their first attempt, have they?”

“There haven't been many people in Lionheart history who've reached the sixth star of the White Flame Formula in the first place.”

Carmen gave a slight shrug.

“And those who've reached the seventh star are rarer still. In that sense, this generation has been greatly blessed. It would be no exaggeration to say the founder has bestowed his grace upon us.”

“... I agree.”

Gilead nodded with a faint smile. This truly was a blessed generation. The previous head of the Council of Elders, who had reached the seventh star of the White Flame Formula, had died, but Carmen was still alive. And Gilead and Gion, both at the sixth star, were active warriors in their prime. There was every possibility that they would one day surmount the barrier to the seventh star.

More than anything else, Eugene reaching the sixth star at only twenty could be called a miracle for the family. Cyan and Ciel had also reached the fourth star, making the main family's current fighting strength among the greatest in Lionheart history.

“... Hmm.”

Carmen sensed it first. She stopped opening and closing her lighter and rose. Before long, Gilead and Gion sensed it too. Their expressions hardened as they stood and looked ahead.

The door to the Darkroom was firmly shut. Yet all three could feel a presence approaching from beyond it. Gion let out a deep sigh and murmured.

“Was leaving our swords behind really the right decision...?”

Gilead murmured with a bitter smile. Carmen did not use a sword, but Gilead and Gion did. Masters of their caliber could fight perfectly well without swords in their hands, but given the situation and their opponent, they regretted not having them.

“It would be a disaster if a misplaced swing cut off one of his limbs or killed him.”

Subduing someone was harder than killing them. Especially now, when their aim was to restrain him with as little injury as possible. That was why Carmen, Gilead, and Gion were all here together.

“We'd be better off worrying about ourselves than about him.”

Carmen spat out the cigar she had been holding between her lips. She knew just how well Eugene fought. They would have to pull their blows to avoid hurting Eugene, while the thing on the other side would rampage without the slightest restraint.

“... Would it be better to hold out for half a day, or subdue him quickly...?”

“Either way, we won't know until we try.”

Carmen tugged her gloves snug. Gilead tied back his shoulder-length hair. Gion unbuttoned his cuffs.

The Darkroom's door opened.

What walked out was Eugene, yet not Eugene. There was no self-awareness in those clouded eyes. The moment Eugene's consciousness had been severed by death, the projection had coiled itself into his mind. Normally, the projection merely tested the lion who entered the Darkroom. In this state, however, it no longer attempted to test anything. It simply ran wild, driven by its instinct to destroy.

“... I see.”

The instant Eugene took one step out of the Darkroom, enormous flames surged up beneath his feet and wrapped around his body. Their size and ferocity made Carmen's expression turn cold. Clicking her tongue, she removed the coat draped over her shoulders.

“Subduing him quickly won't be easy.”

* * *

How long had he been asleep?

Eugene stared at the ceiling without sitting up. His left arm, which he had torn off himself, was now attached and intact.

But his body wasn't entirely fine. He tried twitching his fingers, feeling the aches in his joints and muscles.

'This isn't Ignition's backlash.'

Nor was his intact left arm something Anise had regrown for him. Eugene's lips twisted into a smile.

It was just as he had thought. The Darkroom's projection was a form of powerful mind-affecting magic. The moment he stepped into the magic circle on the floor, an insidious spell must have infiltrated his mind without even him noticing.

'So in the end, everything happened inside my mind.'

The space had retained its shape despite the collisions of all the flames he had recklessly unleashed. The projection had unquestionably exerted physical force in that fight. Those things had raised his suspicions and led him to his conclusion. And he had been right.

That it was mind-affecting magic didn't make it any less astonishing. On the contrary, Eugene was amazed that all of it had been accomplished through such magic. He vividly remembered suffering under Noir Giabella's Demonic Eyes of Fantasy in his past life. Thanks to those experiences, his mental fortitude rendered him immune to most mind-affecting magic.

Yet he hadn't noticed the Darkroom's magic penetrating his mind.

'And it wasn't as though I'd let my guard down.'

Eugene turned his stiff neck from side to side. Even if it had happened inside his mind, the sensation of his neck being severed remained vivid. He clearly remembered even the moment of his death in his past life, which had made the death he met at the projection's blade feel all the more real.

“... You're not angry, are you?”

Eugene cleared his throat and looked to the side.

Quite a few people were seated beside his bed. Mer sat on a chair with her lips jutting out, swinging her legs. Beside her, Kristina was glaring at Eugene through narrowed eyes. Ciel had her head tilted and her arms crossed.

... Cyan and Gerhard were wedged between them, their shoulders slumped. Gratifyingly—and sadly—they were the only two showing him pure concern rather than anger.

“Why would we be angry?”

Mer snapped. Beside her, the corners of Kristina's mouth twitched as she answered.

“Mer is quite right. What reason would we have to be angry? All you did was go off and do something without a word, then lose consciousness, Sir Eugene.”

Hearing that, Ciel couldn't let herself be outdone. She nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Exactly. Why would we be angry?”

Cyan couldn't quite let his sister's words pass. He cleared his throat quietly and tapped her shoulder.

“No... we should be angry. The adults got hurt because that bastard Eugene dragged them into this.”

“Cyan, so what if Father and Uncle got hurt because of Eugene?”

“We should be angry...”

“No, I'm not going to be angry. I have no reason to be. Father and Uncle wouldn't want me getting angry over this either. Lady Carmen certainly wouldn't. Besides, you're not actually angry yourself.”

“That's... true, but...”

“Their injuries weren't minor, but they were only exhausted. They all remained conscious. And Auxiliary Bishop Kristina healed their wounds. But what about Eugene? He was unconscious for an entire night.”

“Uh... uhh...”

“Just look at us. We're here right now. Why? Because we're worried about Eugene. Do you understand? I'm not angry. I'm worried about him. I'm angry because I'm worried.”

Cyan really, truly couldn't understand what his sister was saying. The words came so quickly that his head seemed to spin. Why was she saying she was angry immediately after claiming she wasn't? Was being angry out of worry different from simply being angry?

“Are you feeling all right?”

Despite having been scowling just moments ago, Ciel stood with a face full of concern as though nothing had happened. Then, making a show of it, she picked up a damp cloth and wiped Eugene's cheek.

“Do you know how worried I was about you? You lay there all night with your eyes shut like you were dead, without even tossing or turning.”

“... I was the one who healed him.”

Kristina opened her narrowed eyes a little wider and glared at Ciel. Faced with that sharp gaze, Ciel snorted and patted Eugene's cheek with the cloth.

“Thank you, Sister. I've lived in the same house as him and seen him every day for nearly ten years, so whenever he gets hurt, I'm so distressed it feels as though I'm in pain myself.”

Strictly speaking, Ciel and Eugene had not spent ten years seeing each other in the same house. Eugene had joined Lionheart at thirteen and left to study in Aroth at seventeen. Ciel had gone to Black Lion Castle around the same time, so even a generous estimate put their time seeing each other every day at only four years.

“Eugene and I have a special relationship. We don't share a single drop of blood, but our bond is as deep as that of siblings—no, deeper. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him my other half.”

But that detail didn't matter to Ciel. From childhood, she had been adept at using whatever she had at her disposal. In that regard, being siblings who shared not a drop of blood made a perfectly serviceable weapon.

[“What a paltry little brat.”]

Listening to Ciel's boasting, Anise muttered inside Kristina's head.

She dared speak of a bond built over a mere ten years? Kristina didn't say it aloud, but her thoughts were much the same as Anise's. Wasn't a bond newly forged between two individuals deeper and truer than the ties of siblings who shared no blood?

“... Ahem.”

Gerhard cleared his throat as he listened to the exchange. He no longer understood why he was sitting here. Concern for his only son? That went without saying, but this sharp-edged atmosphere and the covert war of words and glances were far too much for him to bear.

“... Son.”

“Yes, Father?”

“I won't voice my concern for your health or scold you for your recklessness. You wouldn't listen even if I did...”

“It's not as though I wanted to get hurt...”

“But I'm very proud of the man you've become. When you were little, I was afraid to imagine you grown up...”

“What was there to be afraid of?”

“Try to understand the feelings of a parent whose son beat up every child in the neighborhood...”

Gerhard himself was easygoing, and the children in that backwater of Gidol paid no heed to the authority of the Lionheart name. So, as a child, Eugene had personally taught those little troublemakers that authority came more forcefully from fists than from a family name.

“But you've grown up so well. To think so many people besides me would come out of concern for you...”

“Just what did you think of your own son, Father?”

“Something resembling a hooligan. Only when you were little, of course.”

Gerhard rose as he spoke.

“Since you have so many people to worry about you, I'll be going now. The family head must need someone to talk to while he's confined to bed.”

“We'll come with you.”

Ciel, who had been patting Eugene's cheek, promptly stood. Keenly aware of Kristina's gaze, she took Gerhard's hand. Kristina's eyebrow twitched at the provocative glance Ciel casually sent her way.

“Dear Fa-ther.”

“... Y-yes?”

“Let's go, dear Fa-ther.”

Gerhard had never once heard Ciel call him Father. Until now, she had only ever addressed him as Lord Gerhard.

Cyan glanced at his sister as she dragged Gerhard away, then heaved a sigh.

“You look fine, so I'm leaving too.”

“Are you sure you can just leave? Aren't you curious how I ended up like this?”

Eugene asked with a mischievous smile. Cyan knew all too well what that smile meant. He furrowed his brows and glared at Eugene.

“I'm curious, but I'm not. I want to ask, but I won't. I'm going to reach the sixth star of the White Flame Formula like you and find out what you went through myself.”

“Reaching the sixth star at around forty would be respectable, wouldn't it?”

“You son of a bitch. Just you wait. I'll reach the sixth star at thirty—no! Twenty-five... uh... years old.”

“You can do it.”

Eugene made a conspicuous show of clenching his fist in encouragement, and Cyan responded by raising his middle finger.

After Cyan, Ciel, and Gerhard left the room, Mer hopped onto Eugene's bed.

“Why did you leave me behind?”

“They said I couldn't bring you there.”

“You're not lying, are you?”

“Why would I lie?”

Pouting, Mer settled beside Eugene. Kristina gave her an odd look, then picked up the damp cloth Ciel had put down and tossed it behind her.

“What happened to you?”

“I'm more worried about what happened to the others than about what happened to me. Are they all right?”

“... Hmm... They were reasonably all right.”

Last night, Gilead, Gion, and Carmen had knocked on Kristina's door, covered in blood. Broken bones, torn skin, damaged internal organs. Every one of them had injuries that could hardly be ignored.

“Your injuries, on the other hand, weren't serious, Sir Eugene, even though they had to carry you on their backs.”

“My body's awfully sore for that.”

“I was told you rampaged to your heart's content, so you may well have strained some muscles. I intended to heal everything completely, but Lady Anise told me not to.”

“Why?”

“She said healing every little injury would spoil you.”

Spoil him, my ass... Eugene grumbled as he massaged his stiff shoulder. Then he told them what he had experienced in the Darkroom.

“... In the end, doesn't that mean you failed the trial, Sir Eugene?”

“That's right.”

“Then won't the same thing happen again next time?”

“If it really does, Lady Anisilla will try to poison you.”

Mer recalled Anisilla sobbing as she clung to Gilead, who was swathed in bandages. Eugene felt uneasy too. Even if it was unavoidable and against his wishes, he didn't want this body to hurt Carmen, Gion, and Gilead.

“... Do you know where they all are?”

“Lord Gilead and Lord Gion are resting in their rooms. Lady Carmen is...”

“Taking a walk in the garden.”

“A walk?”

Why on earth would she be taking a walk?

That was what he thought when he heard it. Once he actually saw her, however, he understood. Carmen had one arm swathed in bandages and secured in a sling, while her other hand held a crutch. There was even a large bandage on her cheek.

It was difficult to describe precisely, but her appearance was the ostentatious realization of a man's... no, a fifteen-year-old adolescent's secret yearning.

In truth, Carmen's leg injury wasn't bad enough to require a crutch, her arm injury didn't warrant bandages and a sling, and the wound on her cheek hardly needed a bandage. She had merely scraped her leg, sprained her wrist, and scratched her cheek.

But Carmen insisted on that look. She wandered aimlessly through the Lionheart garden with a gaze that seemed both rebellious and suggestive of some hidden story.

“You're awake?”

Walking with her crutch, Carmen turned toward Eugene. He stared at her, unable to find anything to say, then bowed his head.

“Uh... um... I'm sorry.”

“What is there to apologize for?”

Carmen tilted her head, genuinely puzzled.

“Your resistance was fiercer than expected, but it was an enjoyable experience. A nasty fight balanced on a knife's edge makes the warrior in me feel alive.”

“Right...”

“Gilead and Gion haven't fought like active warriors in recent years either, so this will have been a good experience for them. Surely you're not feeling guilty about hurting us, boy?”

“A little.”

“That's pointless. We were injured because we were inadequate. Of course, if I'd decided to kill you, I wouldn't have suffered any injuries.”

Carmen, too, had a warrior's fierce pride. She looked Eugene up and down with an easy smile.

“So, boy. What did you think of the Darkroom?”

“It's an interesting place.”

“It seems defeat hasn't driven you to despair.”

“It's interesting enough that I'd like to enjoy it as much as possible. I'm just not sure you and the others will enjoy it as much as I do...”

“... What are you talking about?”

This was Eugene's thinking. The Darkroom was a special place, and he couldn't yet clearly envision a way to overcome the projection. So he wanted to throw himself at it repeatedly, using the fights themselves as training.

But if he did, he would need people to stop the projection each time he lost, just as they had now. Naturally, Carmen, Gilead, and Gion would have to shoulder that role.

“If you or the others find it too difficult and don't want to, I won't enter the Darkroom until I'm certain I can win.”

Eugene mixed in a suitable amount of provocation.

“Do not underestimate Lionheart's Silver Lion.”

And Carmen readily took the bait. No, perhaps taking the bait wasn't quite the right description... It would be more accurate to say that her pride as a warrior had been set ablaze.

“If you challenge the Darkroom again and again, it will provide rare and valuable training for me, Gilead, and Gion as well. All three of us had to attack you to subdue you this time, but we were all the more clumsy because we aren't accustomed to fighting together. Next time, we'll coordinate properly before stopping you, so it shouldn't be as difficult. Once I grow accustomed to it, I alone will be enough.”

“I knew I could count on you, Lady Carmen.”

Eugene even clapped, glancing at Kristina. She had been standing there blankly and failed to immediately grasp what his gaze was trying to tell her, so she simply joined him in applauding.

“... Why is Auxiliary Bishop Kristina clapping?”

“I don't know either.”

“Pardon?”

“No, I mean... I thought it might be a good idea for you to wait with them next time and support Lady Carmen and the others with divine magic.”

“Ah, ahh, oh... I see.”

“Though I'm not sure that's allowed...”

Eugene asked while stealing a look at Carmen's expression. Rather than answering immediately, she thought for a moment.

Lionheart's Darkroom was a closely guarded secret even within the main family. But Carmen understood that Kristina was special, so she had not hesitated to discuss it in front of her.

“... The saint of Yuras has shared a deep bond with Lionheart for three hundred years. It would be no exaggeration to say that the saint is practically a member of Lionheart.”

Calling her a member was going a bit far, wasn't it? Eugene thought.

“Normally, allowing an outsider into the Darkroom would be unthinkable, but Lionheart is casting off its tiresome, useless traditions. Therefore, the saint, who can practically be considered a member of Lionheart...”

“I'm still a candidate for sainthood.”

Kristina pointed that out to Carmen.

“... I think allowing a candidate for sainthood into the Darkroom is acceptable as well. There will be no further need to heal me, but it would be a disaster if I failed to hold back and seriously injured you. Having a candidate for sainthood on standby who can heal injuries immediately would serve the family by preparing for that possibility.”

“I knew I could count on you, Lady Carmen.”

“I'll persuade the family head and Gion.”

With a smug little chuckle, Carmen swept back the hair at the side of her head with her bandaged hand.

“... By the way, Lady Carmen. About the life flashing before your eyes before the projection appears in the Darkroom.”

“Have we decided to call it that? Wouldn't 'Event Horizon' sound cooler?”

“... Can you see past lives there too?”

Eugene tried not to react to Carmen's words. The moment she heard 'past lives,' her expression changed.

“Eugene Lionheart. Do you believe in past lives?”

“Well, I don't think there's any reason not to believe—”

“You're young after all. I don't believe in past lives. To me, I am only the self who lives and breathes here and now. I exist and prove myself as myself alone.”

Hearing none other than Carmen deny the existence of past lives and call him young for believing in them put him in an exceedingly foul mood.

“I thought you were mature for your age, but perhaps you're still a boy who has yet to attain enlightenment.”

“...”

“I don't know what you're trying to say, but I've never seen anything like a past life in the Darkroom. I've never heard of it from Gilead or Gion, nor from the late Sir Doynes.”

Clicking her tongue, Carmen approached Eugene and patted his shoulder.

“So, Eugene, don't be disappointed that you didn't see a past life in the Darkroom. I understand how it feels to have your belief in a past life disproved, but past lives never existed to begin with.”

Eugene barely restrained his rising anger. He recalled once more the 'past life' he had seen in the Darkroom.

The life of Hamel, who had died in the Demon King of Incarceration's castle.

And what had appeared afterward.

'... What was that?'

The battlefield, thick with the stench of blood but difficult to make out.

The man walking unsteadily.

The mountain of corpses.

The man seated atop it.

Eugene clutched his necklace.