Chapter 223 - Damn Reincarnation

Ruhar

Eugene had felt the need for a guide.

Most of the Kingdom of Ruhar consisted of blizzard-swept snowfields. In terms of landmass alone, it was almost as vast as the Kiel Empire.

Most of its population lived in cities, however, leaving those sprawling snowfields to the indigenous people who had not joined urban society. They were not as savage as the natives of the Great Forest of Samar, but Eugene had heard that their refusal to embrace civilization and their insistence on living in the harsh snowfields gave them a certain eccentric streak.

The snowfields were even harsher than the Great Forest. Finding food was difficult enough, and an unwary traveler who fell into a crevasse could die a pointless death. Blizzards struck without warning, and avalanches swept down the mountains. In the Great Forest, the main concerns had been attacks by savage natives and monsters. Out here, the immense forces of nature demanded greater attention.

With white snow stretching in every direction, it was easy to lose all sense of orientation. Even maps, compasses, and enchanted navigation tools could not keep travelers from getting lost. That was why people crossing the snowfields often hired the natives who lived there as guides.

"Woof."

Thanks to the king of Ruhar’s consideration, they no longer needed to hire a guide. Mer emerged from the cloak and approached Evil, her eyes sparkling.

"Woof."

Mer imitated a dog’s bark again, but Evil merely blinked his golden eyes and stared at her. When he failed to give her the reaction she wanted, she pouted and edged closer.

"Paw."

She finally reached Evil and held out her hand.

Just as Aman had said, Evil was clever. Mer beamed at the enormous forepaw resting lightly on her tiny hand.

"I can ride on his back, right?"

"Wouldn’t it be more comfortable inside my cloak than on a wolf’s back...?"

"Either one would be more comfortable than walking on my own feet. Besides, there’s nothing fun inside your cloak, Eugene. I spend so much time in there that I’m tired of it."

With that, Mer promptly climbed onto Evil’s back.

Not only was she a tiny girl, but she was also a familiar and weighed very little. Evil was so large and strong that he bore her without difficulty and looked at Eugene.

"..."

Nothing fun, and she was tired of it? Mer probably hadn’t meant anything by it, but Eugene felt a little sulky. Still, acknowledging that feeling and letting it show would make him feel as though he had lost to that mutt, so he kept his mouth shut.

"He certainly resembles Moron, as you’d expect from his descendant."

"He didn’t look like an idiot like Moron. Then again, an idiot couldn’t manage being king."

"Moron was an idiot, but he handled affairs of state quite well."

"That’s because he was strong. Didn’t he build a kingdom with nothing but his strength in that shitshow three hundred years ago? In this polar wasteland where it never stops snowing, who’s going to object when some strong bastard says he’ll be king?"

"It is true that Moron’s strength helped establish the Kingdom of Ruhar, but he did not build and govern it through strength alone. You know that too, Hamel. Moron was an idiot, but he was kind, and despite his idiocy, he had his wise moments. The fact that people still praise him by the grand title of Brave King after three hundred years means he was a better king than you think."

"Fine, Moron was wonderful. I wasn’t. Fuck, I just had to die first, and now I’m even hearing people say I was weaker than Moron..."

As Eugene grumbled and heaved sigh after sigh, Anise, borrowing Kristina’s body, gave him a mocking smile.

"But you were physically weaker than Moron, weren’t you? Your body was less resilient, too. Hamel, you might boast to others that you were stronger and tougher, but doing it in front of me... Hehe. I find it rather cute."

"What?"

"Am I wrong? After every battle, you had more injuries than Moron. Who healed those wounds?"

"... Senya."

"No, I did. Stop being so cute with your pointless pride. Without me, Hamel, you would have lost all four limbs long ago and been left rolling around like a ball with nothing but your torso."

"Ahem... I wasn’t the only one who lost limbs... Moron had his leg cut off too..."

"He brought that upon himself by constantly charging out like a colt with its tail on fire. Though, come to think of it, the same was true of you."

Eugene could not bring himself to argue with her mockery. Without Anise’s miracles, he probably would have lost at least an arm and a leg, even if he had not lost every limb.

"... What are you two talking about so secretly?"

No one else could hear Eugene and Anise’s conversation. He had concealed their voices with magic so that they could discuss Moron.

Ciel found the sight very, very irritating. When she approached with a glare, Eugene answered with a perfectly composed expression.

"We’re discussing the signature I developed in Aroth."

"Why talk about that in secret? I’m curious about your signature too."

"Well... These things are more impressive and surprising when you see them without warning."

"You’re hiding it because you want to impress me?"

"More or less."

She did not like the situation, but she liked that answer. With a look of resigned acceptance, Ciel stepped away again.

"Leheinyar. What do you think?"

"Moron’s descendant did not explain himself fully, but wasn’t he quite blatant about encouraging us to go? Surely you don’t think he has laid a trap, Hamel?"

"Couldn’t he have?"

"Would a descendant of Moron possess the cunning to lay a trap...?"

"Even Vermouth’s descendants had a fucking idiot among them."

"Still, if we fell into a trap laid by Moron’s descendant... I would be too ashamed to pass on and would become an evil spirit."

"I’d be so ashamed I’d drown myself in a dish of water."

He was keeping his guard up, but did the Beast King have any reason to lay a trap? As far as Eugene knew, the Lionhearts and Ruhar’s royal family got along quite well. After the war ended three hundred years ago, Vermouth had distanced himself from his companions to a strange degree.

Moron had been no exception. But after Moron abdicated and Vermouth’s official funeral was held, the kings who succeeded Moron had maintained a decent, if not particularly close, relationship with the Lionhearts.

Every year, Ruhar sent a personal letter and gifts for the family head’s birthday. And weren’t they currently discussing a marriage between Cyan, the heir, and Ruhar’s princess?

"Perhaps Moron has secluded himself in this Great Hammer Canyon."

Anise also knew why the Kingdom of Ruhar had been chosen to host the Knight March: to draw out Moron the Brave, who had abruptly withdrawn into seclusion a hundred years ago.

"Hamel, you... Hehe. You do not seem particularly fond of the title, but you are called Lord Vermouth’s second coming, are you not? And Kristina looks exactly like me."

"..."

"We do not know whether Moron has secretly remained in contact with Ruhar’s royal family during his seclusion. But if he is living in the Great Hammer Canyon... and sees us arrive there, even from a distance..."

"That idiot will come charging over in shock."

That was exactly what Moron would do. Eugene chuckled as he pictured it, and Anise gave a small nod.

But her smile was not quite as bright as his.

"If Moron is still the man we remember."

Eugene did not answer immediately. Instead, he gazed at Anise with calm, subdued eyes. The face belonged to Kristina, but even so, he could feel Anise’s sorrowful melancholy.

"That idiot won’t have changed."

His answer came late. He could not be certain, but he spoke with conviction.

They took another warp gate from Hamelon, Ruhar’s capital, arriving in the northern city of Rosruc. From there, no more warp gates were available. They would have to cross the seemingly endless snowfields themselves.

"You’re going all the way to Lehein on foot? You’re mad."

Every merchant they met while buying supplies for the journey clicked their tongue and shook their head. None, however, meddled uninvited or tried to stop them.

That was because of the Lionheart crests emblazoned on Eugene’s, Ciel’s, and Cyan’s chests.

"I’ve heard about it. They’re holding a festival called the Knight March at the training grounds way out in Lehein, aren’t they?"

"I’m not sure I’d call it a festival."

"All sorts of people gathering from different countries to enjoy themselves with plenty of noise and commotion—what is that if not a festival? In any case, thanks to you lot, we merchants are enjoying an unexpected busy season."

"Quite a few have already passed through, then?"

"You have no idea. Three knightly orders and four mercenary companies have passed through Rosruc alone."

Rosruc was not the only route to Lehein. Counting the forces setting out from other cities, an enormous number of companies would be arriving there.

"Since you’ve bought so much, I’ll give you this information free of charge. Two of those knightly orders came from small countries in the Demon-Subjugating Alliance, but the third was a very famous one. Shimuin’s Raging Wave Knights. A young master of the Lionhearts would know them, of course?"

Of course he knew them. They always came up whenever people discussed the finest knightly order on the continent. Shimuin styled itself the Land of Knights, and it had several knightly orders loyal to its royal family.

The Raging Wave Knights were an elite force, carefully selected from the very best of those knights. Their commander was First of the Twelve Champions, Shimuin’s strongest knight. Like the Raging Wave Knights themselves, he was always mentioned whenever people discussed the continent’s greatest knight.

"First was... how should I put it...? Such a sharp-edged man that he almost had an eerie aura about him. That made him contrast all the more with the Princess Knight. She was so pure and lovely, like a single flower..."

At the merchant’s muttering, Cyan cleared his throat quietly.

Shimuin’s Princess Knight. Princess Scalia, whose talent for the sword was exceptional even among the king of Shimuin’s children.

"You sly bastard."

"W-what?"

Along with Princess Ayla of Ruhar, Princess Scalia was being considered as a potential fiancée for Cyan.

"The mercenary companies were... well, they were large ones too... Ah. I doubt anything will happen, but you never know with people. I ought to warn you."

"Warn us?"

"One of the companies that passed through Rosruc a few days ago calls itself the Black Dogs. They say they’re mercenaries, but they drag merchant caravans around the other snowfields, extorting them under the pretense of providing an escort. They’re bandits disguised as a mercenary company."

It was hardly a surprising story to Eugene, who had been a mercenary three hundred years ago. Merchant caravans were common clients of mercenary companies. Anyone with sufficient ability and no conscience could kill or cripple a caravan’s hired guards, then force a contract upon the merchants by declaring that they would provide protection from then on. Naturally, those were rarely legitimate contracts. In most cases, the caravan was forced to pay additional fees for as long as it was dragged around.

"I doubt the Black Dogs would try anything against young masters of the Lionheart family... But the snowfields are vast, and anything could happen. Best not to get involved. If you see a flag with a black dog in the distance, don’t bother engaging them. Just keep going."

"Thank you for the advice."

"But aren’t you going to rent more wolves? There aren’t many of you. For five people or so, a wolf sled would be a good choice..."

"We’ll be fine."

Eugene had considered taking a sled, but after thinking it over several times, he had decided there was no particular need.

"... Wouldn’t using magic be easier?"

"For you, it would."

Magic that prevented their feet from sinking into the snow was not particularly advanced, nor would maintaining it for a long time consume much mana. But Eugene had no intention of casting spells merely for their convenience.

"You two are still at the fourth star of the White Flame Formula."

"... Fourth star is high for our age."

"I’m the same age as you, and I’m at the sixth star."

"That’s because you’re a monster, you bastard."

Cyan answered with a deep scowl, his pride apparently wounded.

"You weren’t waiting for me just so you could have an easy, comfortable journey, were you?"

Cyan knew he was inferior to Eugene. He would probably never surpass him in his lifetime. He had realized that early on, and he understood perfectly well that no amount of jealousy or envy would change reality.

Ever since Cyan was young, Anisilla had taught him how to make use of his brother Eugene.

Be jealous, but do not resent him. Even if you cannot surpass him, aspire to do so. Though you are not brothers by blood, treat him as one and make him someone you can rely on. Build a bond of brotherly affection so that neither of you will betray the other.

"... Will this help?"

"Have I ever made you do something that wouldn’t help you?"

Eugene grinned and patted Cyan’s shoulder.

That was true. The reason Cyan’s White Flame Formula had already reached the fourth star was the advice Eugene had given him about training it. And that advice had benefited Ciel just as much.

"All right."

Steeling himself, Cyan abruptly took off his shoes. Standing barefoot on the snow sent a shiver down his spine at the dreadful cold. He operated the White Flame Formula with precision, warming his body with the bare minimum of mana. Then he began to walk, cautiously extending one foot at a time.

Merely keeping his feet from sinking into the snow was not enough. He had to leave no footprints at all. It seemed simple at first glance, but it required delicate, continuous manipulation of mana.

Using excessive power would defeat the purpose. Eugene wanted Ciel and Cyan to walk on the snow using as little mana as possible, without summoning the White Flame Formula’s flames.

"Ugh..."

Despite her disgust, Ciel did as Eugene said. Clutching her removed boots protectively, she crept across the snow. When Eugene casually approached and tried to take the boots from her, she jumped back in alarm.

"W-what?"

"Well... You looked rather pitiful carrying your shoes like that... I was going to put them in my cloak."

"No. Absolutely not. I’ll carry them myself, so leave me alone."

"Are you worried they’ll smell?"

Ciel’s face went pale at his question.

"You’ve been like that since you were little. I’ve never thought you smelled strange, but a few years ago, you wouldn’t even train outside because you didn’t want to smell sweaty."

"How far back are you going?!"

"It wasn’t that long ago... Four years, maybe...? Anyway, you don’t smell strange, so stop carrying them for no reason and give me your shoes."

"... You... You’re an asshole. You couldn’t be less considerate if you tried. Do you think I’m doing this because I actually stink? It’s just embarrassing and awkward! Fuck off!"

Ciel shouted almost hysterically, swinging her boots around. Faced with such fierce resistance, Eugene stopped offering and backed away.

"You are the one at fault, Eugene."

Kristina, wearing a thick fur coat, murmured the words. Eugene looked up indignantly.

"What did I do wrong?"

"You lack consideration for a young lady’s feelings."

Kristina clicked her tongue and shook her head. Mer narrowed her eyes at Eugene and joined in the tongue-clicking. She seemed quite taken with Evil’s back; she had even put a saddle on him and was sitting atop it.

A girl wearing a soft-looking fur hat sat on the back of a wolf as large as a bull. The wolf led the way, choosing their direction. A pair of twins followed barefoot, while a man in a large cloak watched them with stern eyes. A woman in a coat stayed right beside him.

Many groups were leaving Rosruc’s gates, but none were as unusual as Eugene’s party. Ciel’s face flushed scarlet under the stares that treated them like a spectacle.

"When do you expect to get there, creeping along like that? Run!"

"Giddyup!"

Eugene shouted, and Mer cried out as she patted Evil’s neck. Evil began running across the snowfields, leaving Cyan and Ciel no choice but to run hard after him on their bare feet.

"We... We don’t have to run like this!"

"Running will get us there faster."

"You didn’t run in Samar!"

Ciel shouted, overwhelmed by her sense of grievance.

Why had she split off from the main Lionheart contingent to wait for Eugene? Because she couldn’t bear to watch Kristina and Eugene travel together, just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company—like they had in Samar! The increased training ahead of the Knight March had kept her from following him to Aroth, but this time she had finally been able to come along.

And what was this? She had wanted to rent a big sled, keep the air warm with magic... chat about all sorts of things, and make memories gazing at the stars around a campfire at night! Why was she running barefoot after that enormous fucking wolf’s ass?

"Didn’t we run in Samar?"

"You ran, Eugene. I flew."

Unable to understand Ciel’s outburst, Eugene tilted his head. Kristina then spread her wings as if to show them off.

Of course, she did not spread all eight. She used Wings of Light, the divine magic she had favored while traveling through Samar. As she was now, she could fly with Wings of Light for days on end without running short of divine power.

"You seem to be mistaken about something, Lady Ciel. In Samar, Eugene and I remained faithful to the mission that brought us there. We were constantly on the move and prepared for attacks every day. Compared with that, this journey is actually quite leisurely."

Flying low, Kristina approached Ciel and whispered to her.

But Ciel had no breath to spare for an answer. Walking at a leisurely pace would have been fine, but now she was running while limiting the White Flame Formula’s output, protecting her feet from frostbite, and manipulating her mana to keep them from sinking into the snow. She glared at Kristina, consciously regulating even her breathing.

Naturally, Kristina was neither as strained nor as occupied as Ciel. She ostentatiously fluttered her wings and reclined in midair. Annoyed by the windblown snow striking her, she leisurely waved a hand to block it.

"Though you do not seem to be enjoying much leisure, Lady Ciel."

Ciel swallowed the curses rising in her throat and glared straight ahead.

The sight of Mer sitting on the wolf’s back and laughing merrily was unbearably irritating.

* * *

Above Rosruc.

A handsome man, so beautiful that one might not have thought him a man at all, drew his coat closed. Watching Eugene’s party as they receded into the distance, he moved his lips.

"My queen."

His whisper traveled not through this place, but toward his queen’s territory far, far away.

"Eugene Lionheart has departed."

The demon lands of Helmuth.

Black Shadow Forest.

Until only a year ago, this had been the Rakshasa Princess’s territory and the home of the dark elves who followed her: a vast woodland that retained its primordial form.

Now, however, almost nothing of the old Black Shadow Forest remained. Trees had been felled en masse, and neat roads laid over the compacted earth. Buildings like those in the capital, Pandemonium, were rising one after another through the labor of undead, humans, and lesser demonic creatures employed by Dreaming Construction.

At its very center stood a statue of Noir Giabella, sculpted in a bewitching pose.

"Aha!"

Seated atop the enormous statue’s head, Noir Giabella laughed, baring her teeth.