Chapter 226 - Damn Reincarnation

Scalia

It felt as though his mind had frozen solid. Eugene strained to keep his eyes open and clenched his fists hard.

Forced Sleep, a dream demon’s power. This ability to forcibly put anyone in sight to sleep was closer to a powerful suggestion than to magic, and every dream demon possessed it.

Its strength depended on the dream demon’s standing.

Low-grade dream demons had to gaze into their victims’ eyes for a long time to implant the suggestion, so they supplemented it with alcohol and drugs, much like the low-grade succubi on Bolero Street.

Dream demons of intermediate grade or higher could induce Forced Sleep simply through eye contact and conversation, without such miscellaneous aids. As their name suggested, dream demons burrowed into dreams. It was no exaggeration to say that when and how quickly they could put their prey to sleep was a measure of their standing.

This power was strong enough to induce Forced Sleep the instant someone entered her gaze. And she had not even used it on just one person.

Their eyes had met for only a fleeting instant. They were also quite far apart, so their gazes had barely connected. Their response had not been inadequate, either. Since Anise had come to dwell within her, Kristina’s divine power had increased explosively, as had the variety and level of the divine magic she could wield.

Even so, she had failed to block Forced Sleep completely. That might partly be because Kristina’s divine magic still fell short of Anise’s at her peak, but it was also because the being now controlling Scalia’s body was on an entirely different level.

Noir Giabella, queen of the dream demons.

‘... Even more than three hundred years ago...’

The insides of his tightly clenched fists throbbed. His fingertips were digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. He had no choice. Without concentrating this fiercely and forcing himself to remain alert, he felt he would fall asleep at any moment.

Noir’s Forced Sleep had not been this powerful three hundred years ago. She had never breached Anise’s barrier with Forced Sleep alone. Instead, she had tried various other methods to torment Hamel and his companions.

Ambushes were the most common. Sometimes she overwhelmed them with sheer numbers of dream demons. At other times, she openly used her Demonic Eyes of Fantasy to switch reality and dreams.

And now? Eugene glared at Scalia—no, Noir—who was staring straight at them.

Her eyes held countless points of starlight. They were practically Noir’s hallmark, but those were not the Demonic Eyes of Fantasy. An insignificant vessel. A low-grade incubus. Recalling her complaints, he knew it was not even Noir’s true self that had taken over Scalia’s body.

Yet her Forced Sleep was this powerful... The answer was obvious. Three hundred years was a long time, and Noir had not spent it idling. The Noir Giabella of this era had surpassed the standing of the queen of the dream demons and reached a level comparable to a Demon King.

‘We should have killed her three hundred years ago.’

That was what Eugene thought.

[‘We should have killed her three hundred years ago.’]

Anise thought exactly the same thing. This demon had already attained a supreme standing three hundred years ago. Who would have thought she would refuse to settle for that and rise even higher? There had hardly been an opportunity to kill her, but Anise regretted not having done so even if it meant pushing themselves beyond their limits.

“You’re on your guard, aren’t you? How cute.”

Her head still tilted, Noir smiled broadly. She continued as she wound Scalia’s red hair around a finger.

“There’s no need to be so frightened. That just now was... hmm, a little prank. You’re considered young even among humans, aren’t you? But to me, you’re mere babies. Babies.”

As Noir continued in a laughing voice, Eugene and Kristina exchanged a silent glance.

The thing before them was not Noir’s true self. That was fortunate. If Noir had come here in person, their current strength would not even allow for a fight.

However many possibilities he considered, killing Noir was impossible at his present level. Even Hamel three hundred years ago had been unable to kill the Noir of that time on his own. How could he possibly kill her now that she had grown stronger?

‘I could kill her if this isn’t her true self... but what’s the point if I can’t kill the real one?’

He considered it coldly and suppressed his killing intent.

[“Do not spread your wings.”]

Anise’s thoughts were the same as Eugene’s.

Fortunately, they were in no danger of being made to dream through Forced Sleep or Dream Within a Dream.

Anise currently dwelled within Kristina. She was thoroughly accustomed to Noir’s attacks. Anise herself was far from an ordinary being, and her mental fortitude vastly exceeded a human’s.

The same was true of Kristina, so even Noir could not burrow into her dreams. It was no exaggeration to say that the saint’s presence was what had kept the Hero’s party from succumbing to Noir three hundred years ago.

If they allowed Noir to invade, she would discover that Anise dwelled within Kristina. Naturally, Anise did not want that. That was why she had whispered not to spread her wings. Unfurling all eight would attract far too much of Noir’s attention.

“So you’re not frightened.”

Noir smiled cheerfully.

“Babies these days are so brave. Rather than fearing me, you feel anger and murderous intent. And instead of letting those feelings explode like babies, you’re trying so hard to hold them back.”

“... Well,” Eugene began. “You suddenly drew a sword and attacked us. Am I supposed to feel nothing?”

“Oh, come on. I told you it was a little prank. How should I put this? It’s a cultural difference. Think of it as a difference between demons and humans. Besides, I wasn’t really trying to kill you.”

Chuckling, Noir pointed at Dior, who lay facedown in the snow.

“Take this young knight, for instance. When he got in the way of my surprise, I could have killed him. I still can. He’s fast asleep, utterly oblivious, so I could take this sword and—”

Noir abruptly raised her voice and swung the sword.

“... Kill him! But I’m not doing that, am I? That’s why it’s a prank. A prank. A little extreme for humans, perhaps? But to me, it’s a prank without a speck of malice.”

The sword had stopped just short of Dior’s neck. Laughing loudly, Noir tossed it behind her.

“Did I hurt your feelings?”

Eugene did not answer. Still concentrating, he glared at Noir. She shrugged and shook her head at the brief silence.

“Honestly. Children these days have no sense of humor. In this age of peace, why would I attack and kill the children of Lionheart? That would cause a huge uproar.”

“But Shimuin’s princess is fair game?”

“That’s why I didn’t kill her. This princess has been working far too hard to meet everyone’s expectations. She trains diligently without even sleeping, but honestly, her skills are nothing special. I wouldn’t call her bad, but she isn’t exceptional enough to be put on a pedestal as the Princess Knight.”

She languidly raised a hand and stroked her cheek.

“What a waste of looks and youth. She could simply enjoy life in moderation instead of obsessing over the sword. Do you understand what I mean? I didn’t attack this princess. I helped her. There’s nothing to be done about her nature... but isn’t it pitiful that she can’t even sleep?”

“It wasn’t that she couldn’t sleep. She didn’t want to.”

“That’s because she’s a coward. Or did I take my prank too far? After I showed her a few dreams, she was so terrified she didn’t want to sleep. It’s not as though I showed her particularly terrible nightmares.”

“You’re a nasty piece of work.”

Eugene’s lips twisted into a smile.

“You invaded Princess Scalia’s dreams and took her over because you knew we couldn’t treat Shimuin’s princess carelessly.”

“A prank has to be nasty to be fun. It would have been even more entertaining if your sword had injured this pretty princess... Ahaha, I’m joking. Joking. Don’t glare at me like that.”

Noir waved her hands and continued.

“Do you know who I am?”

“The queen of the dream demons.”

“How did you know? What a bore! I was going to introduce myself with all sorts of gravitas and a solemn expression, but now you’ve ruined it.”

“... I had a rough idea when I saw that Princess Scalia didn’t want to sleep. Though I never imagined the queen of the dream demons had targeted her.”

“Should I call that good intuition? Or a vivid imagination... Or should I simply say, just what I’d expect of a Lionheart?”

Noir gazed at Eugene with sparkling eyes.

“That’s right. I am Noir Giabella, queen of the dream demons. Do you know what that name and my existence mean? I can do anything. Targeting Princess Scalia? A simple prank. Attacking you? Another prank. To me, it hardly even qualifies as an attack. And why didn’t I invade your dreams directly?”

The smile vanished from Noir’s face.

“Because Lionheart deserves more respect than some country like Shimuin across the sea. Lionheart’s founder, Vermouth Lionheart. To me, he was a dreadful man, but he was worthy of awe. So I respect Lionheart, his descendants. Likewise, I respect you, who continue the legacy of Anise Slywood... hehe, the ‘saint.’”

Though her expression had vanished, Noir’s eyes still glittered as if a starry sky had been embedded in them. When that gaze turned toward Kristina, she unconsciously gripped the flail at her waist.

“Well, to me, this really is nothing more than a prank and a greeting. Why did I target Princess Scalia? Unfortunately, my true self is in Helmuth. For now, I’m here using a low-grade incubus’s body... but it would be embarrassing to show you such a lowly form, wouldn’t it? So I invaded the princess’s dream. A queen and a princess. If I lower myself considerably, wouldn’t our standing more or less match?”

“A greeting?”

As Eugene stiffly tilted his head and asked, Noir beamed again and clapped her hands.

“That’s right, a greeting! Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Whatever your intentions, you tried to force us to sleep and toy with us in our dreams. That’s a fact.”

“My, toy with you? Look around. There’s nothing but snow, and the wind is howling. Wouldn’t it be more enjoyable to play in a wonderful place made inside a dream than somewhere like this? That’s what I wanted.”

“You attacked Shimuin’s princess, Lionheart, and Yuras’s candidate for sainthood.”

“Aha, you intend to make this a political issue? Don’t be so rigid. Do you think you can threaten me, a duke of Helmuth, over something this trivial? There’s nothing for you to gain by upsetting me.”

Noir’s smile never faltered. Nothing to gain. It was true. Eugene did not want to make an enemy of Noir Giabella—not yet. The same was true of Anise, who was watching the situation through Kristina.

“You’re right.”

It felt as though thorns were sprouting inside his mouth, as though he were swallowing a blade. Even so, Eugene nodded and admitted it.

“I have no intention of making this a political issue. I can’t speak for Shimuin’s princess.”

“Ahaha, you needn’t worry about that. This princess and that knight will think it was all a dream. As long as you convince those cute babies sleeping behind you, there won’t be any trouble. But are you going to keep disappointing me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you really not know? Do you have any idea how deeply your coldness wounds me?”

Noir’s expression changed again. Tears welled in her eyes as if she were genuinely sorrowful. After she blinked a few times, tears streamed down Scalia’s cheeks.

“Why won’t you tell me your name?”

“...”

“Oh, of course I know who you are. But even though I already know, I want to hear it from you. I told you my name, didn’t I?”

Without answering, Eugene moved the hand inside his cloak slightly. That was all; he did not pull it out.

This was one of the Cloak of Darkness’s great advantages. Until he withdrew his hand, even the queen of the dream demons could not know which weapon he would draw.

“Are you going to draw Altair?” Noir asked, making a guess.

“Don’t try to hide it. I know you’re the master acknowledged by Altair, the Holy Sword. That’s one of the reasons I came all the way to this cold land.”

“So? Is there any reason to keep talking to me?”

“You really are cold. Is it because you’re Vermouth’s descendant? You certainly resemble him in that respect. A reason to talk? Of course there is! I still haven’t heard your name from your own—”

“Eugene Lionheart.”

Eugene blurted it out before Noir could finish. She did not immediately respond, instead blinking twice. Then she burst into high-pitched laughter.

“Do you dislike me that much? I don’t think I’ve done much to deserve your hatred... Hehe, do you know that such resolute loathing actually excites me?”

Noir began walking toward Eugene at a leisurely pace.

“I’ve always been drawn to strong-willed humans who consistently loathe me. I want to burrow into their dreams and see them at their lowest. I want to intoxicate them and drive them mad with pleasures only I can give, somewhere outside reality. Of course, I can do that in reality too, but I am a dream demon.”

“Stop spouting that disgusting crap.”

“Ahaha, I like that reaction. It has such a fresh, adorable charm. They call you Vermouth’s second coming... but the man who loathed me this much was Hamel, not Vermouth. Oh, you know him too, don’t you? Hamel the Stupid.”

Of course he knew. Eugene quietly circulated the White Flame Formula. As purple flames rose, Noir stopped walking.

“... Hmm, I see. This is more than I imagined. I don’t think I can even have a little fun with this low-grade body and vessel.”

“I have no intention of playing with you.”

“How cute.”

The light abruptly died in her eyes. Her unfocused gaze wavered before her eyes closed, and Scalia fell facedown in the snow. Eugene did not look at her as she fell. A haze like black mist drifted out of her body.

The mist gathered together, and the dream demon that had invaded Scalia rose to her feet.

Her face was little different from what Eugene remembered three hundred years ago. Thick black hair reached her ankles. Red horns grew from her head. Her eyes glittered like a starry sky.

“I like you.”

Smiling, Noir raised a finger.

“The same goes for you, Kristina Rogeris. With that robe and that rosary around your neck, you truly look like Anise Slywood from three hundred years ago.”

“... Hearing such an assessment from you is a pleasure.”

“Isn’t it? My assessment is a guarantee you can trust. I knew Anise three hundred years ago. Consider it an honor and rejoice.”

Her finger traced a small circle. Black mana gathered, forming two coins.

“A gift.”

The coins flew toward Eugene and Kristina. Naturally, neither reached for them.

“Giabella Park will soon be completed in Helmuth. With those coins...”

“I don’t need them.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. Come and have fun just once. It’ll be wonderful. No, never mind. Begging too much hurts my pride. Hmph. If you don’t want to come, don’t.”

The coins floating in the air dropped into the snow.

“I really am leaving now, but I’ll give you one last chance. If you ask me to stay...”

“Go.”

“Fine, I’ll go. I really will. I was about to leave, but it feels like a shame. Would you like to sleep with me for a little while?”

Eugene’s face twisted at the sudden remark. Kristina glared at Noir, all color drained from her face.

[“That crazy bitch.”]

Anise, too, let loose a curse without hiding her fury. Despite their piercing gazes and murderous intent, Noir casually shrugged.

“Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s a strictly professional offer from a dream demon. I’m saying I’ll show you whatever dream you want.”

“Fuck off.”

“All right, all right. I really will go. Oh, but... my prank and greeting seem to have offended you, so I’ll offer an apology of sorts before leaving.”

Her nails lengthened into sharp blades. Chuckling, Noir brought them to her own throat.

“This head won’t be sufficient as an apology, but sincerity is what matters in an apology, isn’t it?”

A light sweep of her fingertips cut her throat.

SPLURT!

Scarlet blood gushed out, and her half-severed head tilted to one side.

Noir smiled even as blood poured between her lips. Then she grasped her head with her other hand and violently wrenched it aside.

“May we meet in Helmuth someday.”

Noir whispered those words the instant her head was torn off completely. Her headless body fell to the ground. Soon, the “corpse” began to change. With Noir gone, it reverted to its original form—that of an incubus.

Eugene stared at the corpse without a word. A short while later, it dispersed into mist and vanished. In the silence, Kristina’s lips moved. A brilliant light swept through their surroundings.

“... She’s gone.”

No trace of Noir’s presence remained. Letting out a long sigh, Kristina sank to the ground. Her heart was racing as though it would burst. The fear she had not entirely overcome belatedly set her body trembling.

“... You held back well.”

After a brief silence, Anise spoke in Kristina’s place. She raised her head to look at Eugene’s back.

“In many ways, it was fortunate that Noir Giabella did not come in her true form. Thanks to that, we learned how strong she is in this era.”

“That’s right.”

“I was anxious, to be honest. I thought you might fly into a rage and attack Noir Giabella.”

“I know when I should do that and when I shouldn’t. I knew three hundred years ago, too.”

“Not at first. Hamel, the fact that you developed such self-restraint is entirely thanks to my instruction.”

“I’ll give you some credit.”

As he spoke, Eugene looked down. A black casino chip lay half-buried in the snow. Noir’s broadly smiling face was engraved in its center.

“... You’re right, Anise. It was fortunate that we could measure the gap between us and Noir Giabella.”

Eugene reached toward the chip.

Flames of the White Flame Formula left his fingertips and burned it away without a trace.

In the end, it was only a matter of sooner or later.

One day, Eugene would kill Noir Giabella.

“That’s enough.”

Eugene smiled as he shook the blood pooled in his palms from his hands.