Chapter 62 - Damn Reincarnation

Desert

Gale, an intermediate wind spirit. Where a sylph stirred gentle breezes, Gale raised powerful winds. Though not a breath of wind blew in the desert, the moment Eugene summoned Gale, a fierce gust tore up the sandy ground.

No, it did far more than tear it up. Eugene’s capabilities amplified Gale’s power. A deafening boom rang out as though a bomb had exploded. The surrounding sand blasted away all at once, and Raman, who had tried to push Eugene aside, was hurled into the air along with it.

“Huh!”

Raman cried out in alarm, but Eugene, still airborne, stared down. Deep in the blasted ground, a masked man staggered. His mask was pitch-black, with particularly dark patches around his ears. The sudden explosion had made his ears bleed.

‘An assassin.’

He wasn’t alone. Eugene’s eyes swept rapidly over his surroundings. Beyond the wind’s reach, he could see the sand stirring in places.

Eugene’s consciousness reached Gale. The shapeless wind whirled fiercely and roared.

ROOOAR!

All the sand in the area rose, and Eugene followed up with magic.

‘It’s good to have plenty of options.’

The sand, gathered into dozens of clumps, exploded again. The scattered grains struck the assassins lying in ambush. They hastily raised mana shields and flung themselves aside, but it was impossible to dodge every grain blanketing such a wide area.

Blood spattered everywhere. The assassin who had first ambushed Eugene met a gruesome, unfortunate fate. He was too close to the counterattack, and his earlier injuries kept him from responding properly. Hundreds of sand bullets pierced him, leaving him riddled with holes.

Even then, he didn’t utter a single scream. Nahama’s assassins never screamed, no matter the circumstances. But their silence neither made them immune to pain nor kept them from dying. Unable to remain standing, he fell facedown.

The other assassins fared somewhat better. Though pierced in several places and bleeding, they weren’t injured badly enough to collapse. They sprang back and glared at Eugene.

Their eyes, uncovered by their masks, showed no fear despite their companion dying before them. Nor did they hold anger. Assassins had no need for such emotions.

“That was self-defense,” Eugene told them first. “You’re the ones who ambushed me. If I hadn’t dodged, you would’ve split my crotch in half.”

“L-lower your weapons!”

Raman, who had landed some distance away, ran over shouting.

“I am... Raman Shulhob, a warrior in the service of Lord Tairi Al-Madani, the emir of Kajitan. The man you are attacking is my master’s guest!”

The fact that assassins really had been lying in ambush here shook Raman, but he hadn’t forgotten why he had been dragged this far.

“So lower your weapons and withdraw at once. Otherwise, I will consider this a challenge to my master, the emir of Kajitan.”

Despite his declaration, despair crept into Raman’s eyes.

The assassins neither withdrew nor showed any sign of doing so. Instead, they readied themselves for battle, exuding a grim bloodlust.

And they weren’t the only ones. Sand stirred farther away, and more than a dozen assassins rose. In the end, Eugene and Raman found themselves surrounded by nearly twenty assassins.

“What... did you not hear me?”

Raman spoke again, but once more received no answer. The assassins aimed their weapons, their blades tinged a dull black, and exchanged glances.

“Th-this man is the emir of Kajitan’s guest. He is also a young lord of the Lionheart main family in the Kiel Empire.”

“It’s no use.”

Eugene sneered as though he had expected this.

“Raman. All you’re doing is motivating those puppets and making their decision easier.”

“What do you mean...?”

“They’ve already attacked, so they can’t let us leave. Oh, but even if they don’t kill me, they’ll definitely be planning to kill you.”

“Why wouldn’t they kill you, Lord Eugene?”

“Because killing me would be a hassle. But they can’t just send me back, either. Those bastards probably have all sorts of ways to shut people up about things they shouldn’t be talking about.”

Poisons and drugs. Or perhaps magic. There were many methods, but only one objective: to keep a witness from telling anyone what they had experienced. Of course, the simplest method was to kill them.

Dead men told no tales. But when the target belonged to the Lionheart main family, they couldn’t kill him recklessly. They had to silence him without killing him, and to do that, they first had to subdue Eugene.

“They would go that far...? Why...?”

“No idea.”

Eugene grinned as he answered. The assassins weren’t the only ones whose motivation had grown and whose decision had become easier. If that was how they wanted to play it, Eugene could respond in kind.

He hadn’t started this fight.

“Should I go first?”

Eugene asked as he opened and closed his hands beneath his cloak.

The moment he asked, the assassins kicked off the ground in unison. The first to move was the gravely wounded assassin who had collapsed and lay dying. He shouldn’t have been able to move properly, yet he pushed off the ground with his hands like a beast and lunged at Eugene.

There was no reason to panic. Even after three hundred years, assassins were still assassins. They were relentless bastards who put orders and missions before their own safety. Even with their limbs broken or severed, they would writhe like insects and attack.

He had clashed with them a few times during his mercenary days. Thanks to that, Eugene knew just how tenacious assassins were—and what, besides an order, could stop them.

SLICE.

The sand on the ground became a blade. The assassin charging blindly at him was split in half. Dead. Eugene spared the corpse no further glance.

The assassins came at him. Though they had abandoned concealment, their movements were so swift and stealthy that they hardly needed it. They used one another as cover, obstructing his view while each prepared a different attack. If one fell, the next would press a blade to Eugene’s throat, and if that one fell, another would follow.

Eugene chuckled and lowered his body.

WHOOSH!

His cloak billowed, and six throwing knives shot forward. Three from each hand. Though thrown together, they flew in different directions, each toward an assassin.

Nor were they merely thrown.

CLANG!

The assassins raised mana shields and moved to defend themselves, but their bodies staggered. That was how much weight Eugene’s knives carried. As they reeled, blades of sand shot up beneath their feet. They had already seen that attack, so they tried to counter it—but it wasn’t the only attack coming.

For an instant, the air around the assassins grew heavy. It was no metaphor. The air truly became heavier, pressing down on their shoulders. Their movements slowed, if only briefly. The sand blades rising from the ground sliced their ankles and the backs of their knees.

Again, there were no screams. They gave no battle cries, either. Yet they all threw their daggers together as though they had arranged it beforehand.

Eugene hadn’t remained in place. As he rushed forward, he sent his intent to Gale. Mana-infused wind altered the daggers’ trajectories. He didn’t even need to divert them completely. The slightly twisted paths created an opening, and Eugene didn’t miss it.

CRUNCH!

His empty hands seized two assassins by the head, tipped them backward, and slammed them into the ground. By the time his billowing cloak fell, both his hands held large axes.

CRACK!

He spun his entire body, and the swinging axes cleaved the nearby assassins in two.

Blood sprayed and entrails spilled. Eugene felt no attachment to the axes after that single swing. Once he had finished cleaving through his targets, he let go, and the axes spun through the air to bury themselves in other assassins’ chests.

He had plenty of other weapons. Not knowing what he might encounter in Nahama, he had prepared thoroughly. Enough food and water to last several months. Spare underwear. From such things to all manner of weapons, he had packed everything into his cloak.

Among those weapons alone were more than twenty axes.

["Hamel. Why do you always carry around weapons you won’t even use?"]

["If I have them, I’ll use them eventually."]

["Leave him alone, Anise. The bastard never fucking listens, no matter what you say. Besides... there’s nothing wrong with being prepared."]

["But Senya, Hamel’s behavior is not right. Those unnecessarily numerous weapons all belong to him, so why should Moron pull the cart?"]

["I won at rock-paper-scissors."]

["That wasn’t fair, either. Why are you playing rock-paper-scissors with Moron to decide who carries your baggage?"]

["Are you going to keep making me out to be some thug? Is that cart only carrying my stuff? There’s a shitload of that holy water you love, too! And that bastard Moron’s axe! That’s the heaviest thing in there!"]

["If my holy water were solely for my own use, I would carry it myself. But that isn’t the case, is it? The two bastards who covet my holy water most are you, Senya, and you, Hamel. And doesn’t that idiot Moron always open with rock? Is it fair to play rock-paper-scissors with an idiot like that?"]

["Senya, you bitch. Didn’t I tell you to stop drinking so much of Anise’s holy water? If you’d stored all that stuff with summoning magic in the first place, nobody would have to pull a cart!"]

["You said you wanted to carry it yourself because it would be hard to get it out immediately when you needed it. Why are you giving me shit?"]

["Vermouth! You fucker, don’t just sit there. Say something! Why aren’t you pulling the cart?"]

["None of my weapons are in there."]

["Must be nice. Extradimensional magic is so fucking convenient. Shit..."]

["Looks convenient, doesn’t it? That’s why I keep telling you to learn magic from me. I’ve never taught anyone before, but I think I could probably teach you well. If you got on your knees and begged... a-ahem. I could even cut back on sleep and patiently teach you..."]

In his past life, Anise had constantly given him grief for carrying so many weapons.

‘If I’d had a cloak like this back then, I would’ve gotten less shit for it.’

With that thought, Eugene reached into his cloak. Two long spears emerged.

Overwhelming.

Raman had stepped forward to help Eugene, but he couldn’t advance any farther and stood rooted to the spot. Eugene needed no help. The nearly twenty assassins looked like sheep facing a wolf—no, like ants being trampled by a human.

He hadn’t even drawn Wynnyd, the Storm Sword, that treasured blade of Lionheart. Nor was he actively unleashing offensive magic. An occasional Blink, magical support applied in just the right places...

Unable to believe what he was seeing, Raman shook his head vigorously.

Eugene stood amid the assassins’ corpses. He rubbed the blood from his cheek and looked around. Not a single assassin remained alive.

“... Was it really... necessary to kill them all?”

“I don’t have any knack for making assassins open their fucking mouths.”

As he answered, Eugene moved the wind. The weapons he had used and thrown rose into the air and returned to him. The wind stripped them clean of blood and flesh.

“There’s no need to interrogate them, either.”

“...”

“No need to search the bodies, for that matter. Assassins don’t carry anything that could identify them.”

Eugene put the weapons inside his cloak and turned to Raman.

“Are you coming farther?”

“... Pardon?”

“I brought you along to make use of your master’s influence. But these guys don’t give a flying fuck about the emir of Kajitan. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no reason to keep bringing you along.”

“... B-but I cannot turn back.”

“It’s not because you’re worried about me. Why, then? Want to see for yourself what’s happening up ahead?”

“...”

“You’re not much help...”

“... I will make sure I don’t get in your way, my lord...”

“Suit yourself. Just don’t expect me to feel obliged to help—”

Eugene walked past the corpses as he answered.

It happened then.

RUMBLE!

The desert shook. Mana surged through the air. Eugene felt an immense amount of mana being shaped into magic deep underground. He immediately used Blink to leave the spot and rode the wind high into the sky.

The desert below him churned and bubbled. Red light enveloped the assassins’ corpses, and he saw them melt like ice. Sacrifices. Eugene’s eyes widened.

“My lord!”

The desert became a bog. Moments ago, even the blast of wind hadn’t done this, yet now a patch of quicksand formed in an instant. Raman leaped and shouted, resisting the force sucking him down.

“Run!”

Eugene had expected him to cry for help. Instead, that was what Raman shouted. Eugene found it absurd, but he wasn’t in a position to concern himself with Raman.

The wind was in uproar. An artificial wind, different from the spirit’s, swirled below. Before long, it began turning into an enormous whirlwind. Kazani’s sudden sandstorms. However sudden they were supposed to be, a sand tornado forming and swelling that abruptly was unnatural.

“M-magic...!”

Raman’s face twisted. It was just as Eugene had said earlier. Most things you wanted to believe weren’t true were true. Especially the shittiest suspicions—they were almost always fact. Raman had no choice but to admit it.

Kazani’s sandstorms were the work of sandcasters. So was the sandstorm that had swallowed the village where he had lived.

“Raaaagh!”

Raman roared and drew his kukri. He swung it like a madman at the ever-growing tornado. It was futile. With his abilities, he couldn’t cut through that enormous swirl of sand.

The same was true of Eugene. He didn’t bother trying. He had no desire to waste his strength on the impossible. He held himself steady in the air to keep from being dragged into the sandstorm. Gale’s wind couldn’t free him from the tornado’s pull. Holding out like this was the best he could do. Should he escape with Blink, then?

He considered trying, then abandoned the idea. Something was rising beneath the quicksand. Eugene shifted his position little by little in midair. A glance at Raman showed him still swinging his blade repeatedly as he sank into the quicksand. Eugene clicked his tongue and sent wind toward him.

“Haaagh!”

The wind pulled Raman out as he was being sucked under. His feet flailed in the air as he looked up at Eugene. With part of the wind diverted toward Raman, Eugene was gradually being dragged closer to the tornado.

“M-my lord!”

“Get the fuck out of here, idiot!”

Eugene barked at him and looked away. He wouldn’t need the wind’s help for what he was about to do anyway. Gathering the remaining wind at a single point, he held out against the tornado’s pull. At the same time, he slowly fell.

‘One, two, three, four... now.’

ROOOAR!

Something burst from the center of the quicksand. It was a sandworm with its mouth gaping wide. Not an ordinary sandworm, but a giant sandworm measuring dozens of meters. A scavenger that devoured everything walking across the desert.

“My lord!” Raman howled.

“Quit calling me, asshole.”

Grumbling, Eugene peered into the sandworm’s maw. He could see what must have been thousands of tiny teeth. Beyond them, red flesh stretched away like a winding passage.

“Ugh.”

Eugene let out a deep sigh and pulled up the hood of the Cloak of Darkness. Then he slipped both hands inside the cloak.

“I never wanted to do this again.”

He recalled horrible memories from his past life that he would rather not revisit. The desert of Helmuth. Its sandworms had been larger and fiercer than Nahama’s.

["Moron, you fucking idiot!"]

That bastard really had been an idiot. When a sandworm swallowed the entire cart he had been pulling, he jumped straight into its mouth to retrieve it.

While everyone else hesitated in stunned disbelief, Hamel had jumped into the sandworm’s mouth after him to save the idiot.

What happened afterward...

He didn’t particularly want to think about it. Eugene shuddered, sighing repeatedly.

‘Still, this is better than that time. I’m not going in to save that idiot Moron.’

Gale’s wind vanished.

Thrown clear of the quicksand, Raman stared with wide eyes.

The sandworm had risen from deep underground, its maw gaping.

Eugene was swallowed by that maw. No, he had jumped in. That was how it looked to Raman.

“My loooord!”

To save me! Great tears streamed down Raman’s face.

The tears of a warrior whose life had been saved! Letting out a roar of determination, Raman kicked off the sand.

Despite Eugene going to the trouble of throwing him out of the quicksand, Raman charged at the sandworm with his kukri in hand.

The sandstorm was no longer his enemy. He had resolved to devote himself to cutting open the sandworm’s body and rescuing Eugene.

Eugene knew nothing of that resolve.

“That fucking stench.”

It was worse than Gargis’s armpits. Eugene stopped breathing through his nose and curled up. His sturdy mana shield and the Cloak of Darkness carried him past the sandworm’s teeth and into its winding esophagus. Only then did he summon Gale again, shifting the direction of his falling body this way and that.

The enormous, elongated sandworm served as a living passage, leading Eugene far below. Fortunately, Nahama’s sandworms had the same anatomy as Helmuth’s.

Sandworms ate most things that crossed the desert. First, the rings of teeth inside their mouths wriggled, chewing their prey into small pieces.

Then it passed through the esophagus, broke down further in the innards, and entered the intestines, twisting and turning and twisting and turning... Along that disgusting route, it was broken down without even becoming shit. This damned monster had no anus, so it didn’t shit, either. It was a highly efficient monster that completely broke down whatever it stuffed into its mouth and turned it into energy.

In other words, once you went in, there was no way out.

The mana shield and Cloak of Darkness resisted the digestive fluids. Still refusing to breathe through his nose, Eugene gauged his position. This revolting passage was finally nearing its end.

“Damn it.”

Cursing, Eugene drew Wynnyd and gripped it.

FWOOSH!

Driven to its limits, the White Flame Formula revolved and became the Ring Flame Formula. Within the circles traced by stars, countless new stars were born and exploded. The mana amplified in this way intensified the flames surrounding Eugene. Pure white fire. The symbol of the White Flame Formula. The mana’s density continued to rise.

As it did, the flames around him approached a color other than white. A pale blue. Their appearance could no longer be called the White Flame Formula.

His eyes bloodshot, Eugene raised Wynnyd. Flames of mana coiled around the sword. Fire mingled with the wind it summoned. Eugene pointed the blue-wreathed Wynnyd downward.

PFFT!

There was no loud sound.

The sandworm’s enormous body merely convulsed.

Eugene had personally provided the unfortunate, anus-less monster with an anus.