Chapter 225 - Damn Reincarnation

Scalia

“My apologies for the late introduction.”

Once Eugene and his companions had settled beneath the tent, Dior let out a deep sigh and opened his helmet. The handsome face he revealed looked just as young as his voice sounded.

“My name is Dior Hyman. I belong to the White Wolf Knights and serve as Princess Scalia’s lieutenant.”

“Hyman?”

Cyan was the first to react to the name. His eyes widened as he stared at Dior’s face.

“... Are you perhaps Sir Ortus Neumann’s...?”

“His son.”

Ortus Neumann. That was the name of the commander of the Raging Wave Knights, the First who stood at the pinnacle of Shimuin’s Twelve Champions.

Dior’s introduction prompted Eugene to search his memory as well. He had heard about him during his education at the Lionheart main family. If he remembered correctly, Dior was two years older than Eugene and the twins— the same age as the late Eward.

The Neumanns were one of Shimuin’s foremost knightly families, and Dior’s father was the First, a man invariably mentioned in discussions of not only Shimuin’s greatest knight, but the continent’s. As a result, the children of the main family had heard Dior’s name many times since childhood, along with warnings to keep an eye on him.

‘I heard he distinguished himself from an early age.’

Like Cyan, Ciel and Eugene studied Dior.

Eugene could tell he was exceptional for his age. In truth, he only seemed that modestly impressive because Eugene’s standards were so high. The presence Dior exuded was certainly impressive enough to qualify him for membership in the Raging Wave Knights.

Still, considering that his father was Shimuin’s First, he felt a little lacking. Alchester’s son, Leo, possessed genius-level aptitude that even Eugene had to acknowledge. And though Cyan and Ciel suffered by comparison with Eugene, didn’t they have enough talent to distinguish themselves in the Lionheart family tree? But Dior? Eugene could tell he was skilled and strong... yet he sensed nothing astonishing about him.

‘Well, there’s probably more to him than meets the eye.’

When Eugene had observed them through his flame, Scalia had failed to notice his gaze, but Dior had detected it. Their eyes had met. That was why Eugene refrained from hastily judging Dior’s abilities.

“Please forgive Princess Scalia’s poor manners.”

Scalia herself had acted belligerently, wielding her royal authority, but her lieutenant made no attempt to assert that authority on her behalf. Nor did he ignore her entirely. Dior turned his head to glance at her condition.

As they had sensed during their earlier conversation, Scalia did not seem to be in a normal state. She was chewing on her dry lips and tugging at a lock of hair wound around her finger. Dior let out a deep sigh at the sight and spoke.

“Your Highness.”

“Enough, Dior. I know what you intend to say, so do not bother saying it. I... I shall not heed your words.”

“But Your Highness, surely you can feel how serious your symptoms have become?”

“Symptoms? I am merely fatigued from a lack of sleep. How can you call that an illness?”

Scalia narrowed her bloodshot eyes and glared at Dior.

“There is nothing wrong with me. This land’s climate is so different from Shimuin’s that I have yet to adjust. Within a few days at most, I shall sleep soundly and be perfectly well again. So, Dior, say no more of what I do not wish to hear.”

“...”

“I shall take a brief walk around the area. You, the lions of Lionheart. If you wish to accompany me on my journey, you may stay. But if you intend to hinder me, leave at once.”

Without waiting for an answer, Scalia sprang to her feet. The helmet she had folded back closed around her face again. Dior hurriedly rose to follow her, but she glared at him, her eyes flashing within her helmet.

“Do not follow me. I shall not go far. My mind is unsettled and dizzy. I merely wish to walk around alone for a while.”

“But...”

“I understand your concern, but I shall not heed your words.”

Scalia snapped the words out and spun away. Dior stood there for a moment, watching her retreating back with worry-filled eyes.

“She seems... very on edge.”

Cyan tentatively spoke up.

Though he was doing his best to control his expression, his tender heart had already suffered a sizable wound. Well over a year had passed since marriage discussions involving him and Princess Scalia had begun. Yet instead of a friendly greeting from her, all he had received were words like filthy, lowborn, sewage, stench, and nauseating.

‘At least the king of Ruhar recognized me and patted me on the shoulder...’

He felt as if he had been rejected before they had even been properly introduced. The more he dwelled on it, the more his heart ached, and his shoulders slumped.

“... Her Highness suffered from mild insomnia even back in Shimuin.”

Dior sat down again with a bitter smile.

“As is often the case with such illnesses, Her Highness’s insomnia is an affliction of the mind. Even so, in Shimuin she used to get some light sleep. Since arriving in these snowfields, she has scarcely slept at all.”

“I can help with that,” Kristina said.

“My apologies for the late introduction. I am Kristina Rogeris of Ruhar.”

“Ah... the candidate for sainthood?”

“Yes.”

“You said you could help. What exactly do you mean?”

“Among the forms of divine magic I practice are spells that calm an unsettled heart and guide a sleepless mind into peaceful slumber. As you said, Sir Dior, most insomnia is an affliction of the mind that is difficult to treat. But my divine magic should allow me to offer Her Highness’s troubled heart at least some care.”

She gave little thought to what she might gain by doing so. Though her education had been coercive, Kristina was a priest, and a priest’s duty was to guide those who suffered into the peaceful light. Even Anise, who shared her body, had disregarded her own well-being to bring salvation to others, despite being so ill-behaved that it was hard to believe she was a saint.

“It didn’t look like insomnia to me,” Eugene said.

“You saw it just now. The princess could have gone to sleep whenever she wanted.”

It had been Scalia who said she wanted to rest. Yet the instant she sat down and felt drowsy, she shook it off. She bit her lips, pulled at her hair, and forced her drooping eyes wide open. Now she had gone out for a walk, but Eugene felt that even this was an attempt to ward off sleep.

“I cannot presume to speak about Her Highness’s circumstances.”

Looking troubled, Dior glanced outside the tent. The snow and wind were growing fiercer, and Scalia was nowhere in sight.

Shimuin’s Princess Knight. That epithet was like a symbol of Shimuin, the so-called land of knights, and its royal family. It was true that her special status had helped Scalia rise to deputy commander of the White Wolf Knights, but her strength was also undeniably worthy of recognition within the order. Perhaps deep within Leheinyar, said to be the most dangerous region in the north, things might be different. But no monster in these snowfields could threaten her.

“... I should go find Her Highness.”

Dior knew Scalia’s abilities well. Even so, he could not simply leave her alone. Scalia had been acting strangely of late. He knew that all too well.

“We’ll be leaving, then.”

Eugene promptly rose as well. His abrupt declaration made everyone except Dior look at him in surprise.

“Yes. I look forward to seeing you in Lehein.”

Dior himself replied as if it were only natural. He went outside without packing up the tent he had erected. Cyan blinked in surprise, then looked at Eugene.

“We’re leaving? Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I should be asking you that, you idiot. What else would we do if we stayed?”

“Well... Sir Dior looked like he was in a bit of a bind. We could at least help—”

“Help with what? Princess Scalia isn’t a child. She said she was going out for a short walk. Why should we help look for a princess who has nothing to do with us?”

“That’s true, but...”

“Might Princess Scalia want my help?”

Cyan muttered with his shoulders still slumped, while Kristina posed a different question.

“I told you earlier. Princess Scalia’s insomnia isn’t an inability to sleep. She’s deliberately staying awake. I don’t know why, but she isn’t in her right mind.”

“Eugene’s right.”

Ciel nodded in agreement.

“Princess Scalia isn’t in her right mind. She nearly attacked us, didn’t she? Her mind is so clouded she can’t even make out what’s right in front of her. The annoying part is that she’s a princess of Shimuin. Even if we’re Lionhearts, we can’t just lay hands on a princess.”

With both of them saying so, Kristina and Cyan offered no further objections.

[“Can I come out now?”]

Mer asked from inside the cloak. But instead of opening it for her, Eugene gripped it even more tightly shut. It was not a petty act of spite. Mer read his mind and let out a quiet sound of surprise.

“... Ah.”

Kristina also gave a small exclamation of surprise. She could not read Eugene’s mind, but Anise had told her something inside her head. Her expression stiffened as she ran a hand over the flail at her waist.

When they left the tent, the blizzard had already grown fiercer. Evil took the lead again, and the party began moving through the storm.

“Don’t stray far.”

This was not their first time pushing through a blizzard. But unusually, Cyan and Ciel received a warning. Neither asked why. His voice, as cold and subdued as the swirling snow, seemed to permit no questions.

The silence heightened their tension. Though Cyan did not know the exact reason, he took Gedon’s Shield from his back and strapped it to his left forearm. Ciel also grasped the hilt of Javel, the Flying Sword, concealed inside her cloak.

Naturally, Eugene was the first to sense it. Rather than speak, he summoned the White Flame Formula. The sudden release of mana brought Cyan and Ciel to a halt.

The light Kristina summoned surged outward, driving back the blizzard. Her fully spread Wings of Light enclosed the surrounding area, and a large cross-shaped sacred formation appeared beneath her feet.

Eugene turned to look behind them.

The blizzard did not intrude upon the sacred formation. Outside it, beyond a storm so fierce they could barely see, someone stood.

It was Princess Scalia, whom they had parted with just moments earlier.

“... Something’s...”

Cyan muttered as he raised Gedon’s Shield and stared at Scalia. Though the blizzard had intensified, he could make out her face when he focused his vision.

Something was wrong.

He had felt it earlier, but Scalia’s face looked even stranger now.

Her eyes, previously unfocused, now had no focus at all. Her eyelids were raised, yet it was as if the eyes beneath them had not opened. Sunken and utterly devoid of light, they looked dead.

“Where did Sir Dior—”

“Pay for your sins with death!”

Before Cyan could finish his muttered question, Scalia roared. Her open helmet closed around her face, and deep blue mana erupted around her body.

BOOM!

The snow beneath her feet scattered in all directions and evaporated. Scalia charged through the blizzard in an instant.

“Your Highness!”

Before the party could respond, Dior came racing out of the blizzard and blocked Scalia’s path. Shouting in a voice full of alarm, he spread both arms wide before her.

“S-stop! They are Lionhearts—”

“You dare bar my path?! You have no right!”

Roaring, Scalia brought her sword down on Dior’s head. It was no mere threat. The blade carried enough force to cleave his body in two with a single stroke. Horrified, Dior drew the sword at his waist.

CLANG!

Though he drew far later, his sword caught Scalia’s without difficulty. Even as he blocked the blow from below, his body did not buckle in the slightest.

“You...!”

Startled, Cyan tried to step forward to help, but Eugene extended an arm to block him. Bewildered, Cyan turned to him.

“What? Why?!”

“Wait.”

Eugene offered no precise explanation.

BOOM!

Another clash sounded ahead. Her face twisted, Scalia hacked downward with her sword as if it were an axe. Dior held his ground and blocked the blow.

His skill was quite impressive. Eugene had suspected that he was hiding abilities beyond what he had shown earlier, but the skill with which Dior weathered Scalia’s ferocious onslaught befitted the son of Shimuin’s First—no, it went beyond that. Eugene could not accurately gauge his mana output, but in swordsmanship alone, he clearly seemed superior to Scalia, the deputy commander of the Raging Wave Knights.

Scalia was not in her right mind. Yet her mental state had not dulled her blade. If anything, it was precisely because she was not herself that she swung with all her strength. Even so, her sword could not overcome Dior.

“Ngh...!”

Though he had hurriedly intervened to stop her, Dior was genuinely at a loss. He did not know why Princess Scalia was rampaging like a madwoman. What was clear was that she now recognized neither the Lionheart children nor even Dior himself.

“Filthy pirate scum. Have you left the sea to kill me even on this pure white land? You, aren’t you the mercenary I killed earlier? Why are you still alive instead of dead? Aha, I see! You sold your soul to an evil demon!”

Every time Scalia’s lips moved, incomprehensible words spilled out.

That was not his only problem. Dior did not want to reveal himself to the Lionheart children. But neither could he allow the rampaging princess’s sword to turn on them.

‘I need to subdue her first...’

He was concentrating on defense, but this would never end that way. With no other choice, Dior compromised and resolved to properly restrain Scalia. Having made up his mind, he tightened his grip on his sword.

He met her eyes in a final attempt to appeal to her with his gaze. Through the eyeholes of her helmet, he could see her dull eyes. Eyes that did not seem alive...

“Princess Sca—”

Dior could not finish.

There had been ample distance for their gazes to meet. Suddenly, it seemed to shrink. Had the gap narrowed? No. Only the gaze had drawn closer.

Those eyes.

Dior’s body turned rigid as stone. He could not even control it, much less swing his sword.

“This body is far too weak.”

A voice drifted from inside the helmet. It was Scalia’s voice, but the speaker was not Princess Scalia.

“Or is the vessel too pitiful? There’s just no helping these low-grade incubi.”

Exceed’s helmet opened wide. Amid the spilling red hair, Scalia raised her head. Countless points of starlight filled her previously lightless eyes.

Forced sleep: Dream Within a Dream.

There was no warning. Not even a fluctuation in mana. The instant she caught someone in her sight and willed it, she forced them to sleep. Any high-ranking dream demon could wield this power, but she could compel her targets to sleep more powerfully and irresistibly than any other.

Once they fell asleep, nothing else was necessary. Dream Within a Dream. True to its name, the instant sleep took them, it dragged them into an endlessly recurring world of dreams.

“... Oh my.”

Scalia blinked.

She had intended to put them all to sleep. But she had failed. Only two had fallen asleep. Dream Within a Dream had been blocked before it could even manifest. The two kneeling figures were simply asleep.

“A divine barrier... Impressive, certainly, but I wouldn’t have thought a hastily erected barrier could stop it.”

Noir Giabella, queen of the dream demons, painted a smile on Scalia’s face and tilted her head. Though her smile was utterly relaxed, thoughts raced ceaselessly through her mind.

Noir’s true self was in the Black Shadow Forest of Helmuth, far from here. She had been able to come here by using the body of a servant active in Rosruc—a low-grade incubus—as her vessel.

As a result, she could use neither the mighty power of her true self nor her Demonic Eyes of Fantasy. She had not thought either necessary. Tormenting and toying with Scalia in her dreams had merely been a mischievous prank. Ultimately, she had put Scalia to sleep, induced a sleepwalking state, and seized control of her body.

‘I was going to draw them into a dream and give them a little lick...’

Noir’s smile deepened as she spoke.

“How interesting.”

Even now, Noir was continuously casting her forced-sleep technique.

Yet Eugene and Kristina did not fall asleep.

“What exactly are you two?”

Noir asked, tilting her head.