Chapter 215 - Damn Reincarnation

Darkroom

Vermouth’s figure wavered. It did not vanish completely. The projection of the man named Vermouth Lionheart, as he had been three hundred years ago, scattered. Each drifting particle became one of countless sparks.

Eugene slowly lowered his outstretched hand. He offered no farewell to the disappearing Vermouth. The words would never reach him anyway. Most people would call Hamel headstrong, but to Eugene, no one was more headstrong than Vermouth.

“The biggest difference between you and me is that somehow, whatever you do on a whim gets dressed up to look reasonable.”

It was Vermouth doing it, so there had to be a reason. There must be some explanation. He must have had no other choice. Those were the things people always said about Vermouth. But when Hamel did something unexpected with a carefully thought-out plan of his own behind it...

["Hey, you crazy bastard! What the fuck are you doing now?"]

["Hamel, what exactly are you trying to accomplish?"]

["That’s Hamel for you."]

Those were the sorts of things he heard.

Chuckling at those memories, Eugene reached toward the drifting sparks. Of course, Vermouth must have had some reason for doing this, too. But once again, he had gone ahead and done whatever he pleased without telling anyone first, and Eugene—no, Hamel—had been caught up in it.

He did not resent him.

“For now.”

Hamel trusted Vermouth. Why had the bastard done this? Why did he insist that it had to be Hamel? Nothing was certain, but...

Vermouth’s words were sinking deep into his heart and spreading. The words and the feelings they evoked writhed as though alive, swimming through his veins and flashing through his mind.

["Hamel, if you still wish to kill every Demon King and demon and save the world..."]

Vermouth had reincarnated Hamel to kill the Demon Kings and demons they had failed to kill three hundred years ago. To fulfill, even now, the wish they had all shared back then. That alone was enough for Eugene to forgive Vermouth for reincarnating him.

‘... The Vermouth I just saw... was Vermouth before he blasted a hole through Senya’s chest.’

That made it all the harder to resent the Vermouth he had just seen. Hadn’t Senya herself, the victim, asked him not to resent Vermouth too much?

Vermouth still had many secrets. He had not told Eugene everything about himself. He had said he had no choice, that it could not be helped.

That was why he had looked so lonely. He had smiled several times during their conversation, but those smiles had been far more barren than the ones in Eugene’s memories.

The drifting sparks settled.

A blazing flame remained where Vermouth’s projection had stood. Eugene gazed at it without alarm.

There was nothing remarkable about its shape. It was white, like the flames produced by the White Flame Formula. A flame of mana refined to purity, giving off no heat.

Eugene slowly reached toward it. Was he supposed to activate the White Flame Formula in response? The question briefly crossed his mind, but before he could do so, the flame moved first. It swelled in a rush and wrapped around his hand.

It should not have been hot.

Yet Eugene felt heat from the flame curling around his hand. It burned neither his clothes nor his flesh. Instead, it seeped into his body. That was why it was hot. The flame entering through his fingertips sent heat coursing through his veins and heating his bones, bringing his mana to a boil.

Eugene’s lips twisted into a smile. He closed his eyes and immediately sat down. The flame that had seeped inside him was running wild. The six stars circling his heart accelerated at his command. The Ring Flame Formula amplified his mana and held it in, preventing it from escaping.

As he concentrated, the lightning flame within his body responded to the Ring Flame Formula as well.

Throughout his stay with the main family and his attempts at the Darkroom, Eugene had always practiced the White Flame Formula in the World Tree’s root cavern at the bottom of the lake. Each time, the spirits of the World Tree approached him. Rather than trying to subjugate them, he sought harmony and fusion.

There had been results. The lightning flame dwelling in Eugene’s mana had been born when the spirits of the World Tree met his mana. Like primal spirits and the spirits of the World Tree, it had no self-awareness, but it was undeniably a spirit at its core. He could not train it or make it grow at will.

But at the World Tree’s roots, while practicing the White Flame Formula, he had succeeded in merging the spirits of the World Tree with the lightning flame. Controlling the enlarged lightning flame, however, was an entirely different matter. That damned Lightning Flash was a power somewhat different in nature from mana, making it difficult even for Eugene to control.

So Eugene had sealed the enlarged lightning flame deep within his core. Whenever he needed it, he drew out only as much as he could handle, but...

CRACKLE!

The lightning flame surged out of its own accord. For a moment, his head swam, but Eugene held firmly to his consciousness and guided his mana. As the lightning flame rose, his flames rippled violently. The flame connected to him rippled with them. It had not originally been his, but at that moment, it breathed in unison with him as though it had been born from him.

It was seeping in.

There was no longer any point in looking at what was before him. Eugene closed his eyes and observed what was happening within him. He had not used Ignition, yet his core’s movements were extraordinary. Its rotation accelerated without any discernible limit, and mana continually exploded within that rotation. The flame seeping in and joining him caressed his core. As it joined the core, the nature of the explosions changed.

It hurt enough to kill him.

The flame that had seeped in and the explosions stimulated his six cores. The lightning flame that had burst free of its own accord crackled noisily, trying to encroach upon the White Flame Formula’s flames. Was this really going as it should? Even he could not tell. Would these wild flames and lightning damage his body?

The unease and doubt lasted only a moment. Ultimately, all of this was happening within Eugene. If his body was damaged, it would mean he himself had failed at something. In this sudden, incomprehensible situation, he placed an additional burden on himself by thinking that way. It was easier for him that way.

Trite as it sounded, Eugene believed in himself.

CRACK.

At some point, that sound came from within his body. When he heard the unfamiliar noise, his consciousness, wholly absorbed in concentration, gently stirred.

‘How long have I been like this?’

He had stared wide-eyed at the flame, then closed his eyes when he decided there was no need to keep looking. He had worked to control the flame seeping into and joining his body, then sat down when he decided there was no reason to remain standing.

That was as far as Eugene’s thoughts had gone. After that, there had been no need to think of anything else.

Only concentration. For what purpose? ... Had he been trying to control the flame? Or had he been enduring it to keep himself from burning up?

‘Well, that’s not important.’

He did not know exactly how long it had been, but he had been concentrating intensely.

He had heard a sound that broke his concentration. A crack. The sound of joints being twisted... No, that wasn’t it. It had been the sound of something being crushed and broken.

‘What broke?’

His cores.

The six cores that had been accelerating and rotating at his heart had shattered. A core was the source of mana formed within the body. For it to shatter meant losing all the mana one had accumulated and becoming unable to wield mana ever again.

Yet not a trace of Eugene’s mana had dispersed. His cores had shattered, then formed anew. Their shapes were not as distinct as those of the cores that had just broken, but precisely because of that, they responded swiftly to the mana’s intensity and rotation, shining brightly.

The Lionheart White Flame Formula.

Just as this mana-training method had the unique manifestation of flames, its stages were classified differently from those of other methods. The Lionheart White Flame Formula measured its stages in “stars.” The core that appeared at the heart, and the cores that gradually split from it, were counted as stars.

Now, six actual stars floated at Eugene’s heart. His old cores had broken, and stars had risen anew.

The flames subsided.

“... Haaaah...”

Eugene opened his eyes with a long exhalation. Something smelled strange... He sniffed and looked down at his body.

Then he recoiled in horror. His entire body was damp. Sweat? No, it wasn’t just sweat. Some dark impurities were mixed into it... Appalled, Eugene sprang to his feet.

‘Don’t tell me... Did it get so bad that I pissed myself?’

... Fortunately, it wasn’t that bad. Eugene heaved a deep sigh and began stripping off his clothes. Every movement sent flakes like dead skin falling from his body.

“... Well, look at that.”

He stopped undressing and rubbed his skin with his hand. The pale skin peeled away beneath his strokes like a shed skin. The newly exposed skin was clear and full of vitality, like a child’s.

“Physical reconstruction... I didn’t intend for that to happen. I don’t need it at my age, either. But if it happened on its own anyway, did my body decide that the me of ‘now’ needed it?”

He did not know the exact reason, but Eugene laughed happily.

His skin was not the only thing that had been cleansed. Impurities had been expelled from his entire body. No matter how adept he was at manipulating mana, impurities that he could not burn away completely remained deep inside him. And the place where those impurities accumulated most heavily was the core.

‘All my old cores shattered. Did that process expel every impurity?’

Eugene stood there and moved his body in various ways. It had always been light and brimming with strength. Now, however, it felt unfamiliar. He was no longer sure whether, before this change, his body had truly been light and full of strength at all. That sense of strangeness was proof that his body had changed.

“... Nice.”

Murmuring quietly, Eugene focused on his cores. The sixth star of the White Flame Formula. The change that had allowed them to rotate without conscious effort. That remained true now. His White Flame Formula was still rotating.

The instant Eugene willed it, the six “stars” shone brilliantly, linking their tails, while new stars exploded within their rotation to form a nebula.

The lightning flame rose with his mana. It no longer moved separately. The flames embraced the lightning. Eugene gazed at the flames he had summoned.

The White Flame Formula.

It was named for the pure white flames of mana it produced. If the flames it generated absolutely had to be white, what Eugene was using now could not be called the White Flame Formula.

“... I don’t like this...”

He meant every word. The flames he had summoned were closer to a dark purple. They certainly were not white...

In truth, Eugene did not care much about such changes. The color of his flames? What did that matter? They were unquestionably stronger than his previous White Flame Formula, so shouldn’t he be pleased instead?

The problem was...

Carmen Lionheart. She would undoubtedly be thrilled to see that his flames had turned this distinctive purple. She might even give him some dreadful nickname based on those purple flames, then try to rename the White Flame Formula on her own...

‘What if she changes it to the Purple Flame Formula because the flames are purple? I... I don’t want that...’

Shuddering, Eugene finished undressing. His clothes stank too badly to wear outside as they were, so he intended to wash them with magic before leaving.

Once he had put on his magically cleaned clothes, he looked around one last time. Naturally, all the flames had entered him and were no longer there. Vermouth’s projection was nowhere to be seen, either.

“Take care.”

He had not intended to say any words of farewell.

Yet that was what Eugene said. It was a goodbye to Vermouth’s projection, which would have waited here for Hamel for three hundred years. Even if it had been prerecorded, and even if conversation had been impossible.

He recalled that barren smile. He had offered no farewell when the projection actually disappeared. Eugene turned with a faint chuckle.

“This place has looked after me for over half a year, too.”

He crossed the magic circle. A door stood not far away. How much time had passed? The thought came to him again. It had felt like quite a long time, but judging by the emptiness of his stomach, about a day seemed to have passed.

‘I feel bad. They’re all stuck waiting at the Darkroom entrance for me to come out.’

Lately, he had already been feeling unspoken pressure in Anisilla’s gaze. Cyan had told him a number of things recently, too. With only half a year left until the Knight March, Gilead, as family head, would have to take the elite of the White Lion Knights to Black Lion Castle. There, they would devote themselves to joint training with the Black Lion Knights in preparation for the Knight March.

Anisilla understood, but as his wife, she seemed dejected at the prospect of being separated from her husband again. She would want to spend time by his side while he was still at the estate, at least, yet Eugene was making Gilead descend to the Darkroom almost every day.

["Mother might poison you."]

Of course, most poisons would not kill Eugene even if he drank them. But a poison deliberately procured by the lady of Lionheart would hardly be ordinary, would it?

‘Maybe I should send them on a trip to some scenic resort.’

Just Anisilla and Gilead. She might not show her delight openly, but if he offered the trip as a gift, she would accept while pretending to give in. He was not their biological son, so he felt no particular filial devotion toward them, but he did consider Gilead and Anisilla something like close relatives. Eugene opened the Darkroom’s door.

‘So I can at least give them a pre—’

Before he could finish that thought, something rushed toward him. It was Carmen Lionheart. Without the slightest hesitation, she threw a punch at his face.

She was not alone. Gilead and Gion closed in from either side, perfectly restricting Eugene’s movements. Their coordination could hardly be anything but practiced. For nearly half a year, these three had been subduing Eugene whenever the projection took him over.

Their reason for attacking was simple. Eugene had spent too long in the Darkroom. He thought it had been a day, but it was already the third day since he had entered. Throughout those three days, they had taken turns guarding the entrance.

Physical and mental fatigue meant little to them. What worried them was that Eugene had not emerged for three days.

He had said he would overcome the Darkroom that day, yet had failed to come out for three days... They were certain something had gone wrong, but only one person could enter the Darkroom at a time, so they could not go inside to check.

Then, today, the door had suddenly opened. Better to subdue him first than try to assess the situation accurately. That was what all three thought. No one had ever emerged from the Darkroom after three days before, so they judged there was ample chance that Eugene’s body would rampage in some dangerous fashion.

Eugene did not know those circumstances in detail. He only knew that their coordinated attack was fierce, there was almost no opening to escape through, and the attacks were too close for him to stop them by speaking.

So he had no choice but to summon his flames. When he stamped his foot, purple flames surged upward. Lightning Flash accelerated his body, sending him through a tiny opening that seemed impossible to pass through.

“It’s me. It’s really me. Not the projection, Eugene...”

“These flames...?!”

Carmen’s eyes flew wide open, and Eugene’s face contorted.