Chapter 66 - Damn Reincarnation

The Tomb

He had spat out his demand, but the death knight did not comply. Its eyes blazed with a sinister, ominous light, and Eugene radiated fury and murderous intent to match.

He charged forward. Things he did not want to think about circled through his head. Ominous, fucked-up imaginings. No, they were not imaginings. Wasn't the thing right there before his eyes?

This was Hamel's tomb.

Death knights were made from the corpses of dead warriors. Regret, anger, hatred. Souls steeped in such emotions did not leave the mortal world even after death, but lingered in their corpses.

Most undead were created by tempting those souls. I will grant your wish, so surrender your soul and become my slave. Souls unable to depart did not refuse such offers. Their bitter grudges drove them to accept eternal slavery, forfeiting reincarnation.

A lich was a mad mage who turned themselves into an undead being, but a death knight was the corruption of a soul that remained after death. It relinquished every right a living being should enjoy, surrendering everything for something as paltry as revenge.

Naturally, it was powerful. Eugene knew very well how terrible and vicious power bought with a soul could be.

So what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

'Hamel?'

It claimed its name was Hamel.

'You're Hamel?'

Crazy bastard. Had dying completely scrambled its brains?

Eugene did not doubt that he was Hamel. There had never been any need for such doubt. Tempest, the Wind Spirit King, had confirmed that Eugene's soul was Hamel's.

Even without Tempest's confirmation, there would have been no room for doubt. If he wasn't Hamel, then who the hell was he? His memories, his experiences—everything was clear.

But.

Even if his soul was Hamel's, his body wasn't.

'Its build...'

Was the same as Hamel's.

'Habits... There aren't any. I wouldn't have anything like that.'

Having a habit or two in combat was hardly unusual, but Hamel had deliberately erased every one of his in his previous life. Clinging to ingrained habits would keep him from growing. He would not survive in Helmuth. He would not surpass Vermouth. Driven by that obsession, he had eliminated every habit that did not help him.

Simply watching it like this would not reveal its identity. It certainly seemed to be a death knight, but that was not enough. Its face. He had to see its face.

'If someone made an undead out of my corpse and put another soul inside...'

That would not diminish his fury or murderous intent. That was his body. His body from his previous life. The flesh that Senya, Anise, Moron, and Vermouth had laid to rest in a tomb they had painstakingly built.

"What fucking bastard..."

THWUMP!

Eugene sprang into the air, twisting his body.

"...stuffed you..."

His cloak billowed. The space inside opened, and countless weapon handles protruded from it. Eugene seized two sword hilts.

"...into that body?"

SWISH!

He drove both swords downward. Though Eugene had seized the position above its head in an instant, the death knight did not panic. It deftly twisted out of the swords' paths and reached toward him.

The hand encased in a pitch-black gauntlet drew closer. Grinding his teeth, Eugene moved both hands.

BOOM!

The blue flames wrapped around his hands exploded.

'Mana shield.'

Strictly speaking, death knights and black mages used demonic energy rather than mana. But its purpose was no different. That dense demonic energy became a shield enveloping the body.

He was overpowered.

Eugene pulled his aching hands back. He could not compete in sheer power output. However expertly he manipulated mana, however efficiently he amplified it with the Ring Flame Formula, he had only begun learning to use mana six years ago.

It was only natural that he could not match the death knight before him in strength.

'I don't know anything about it.'

How long had this death knight existed?

The first possibility that came to mind was that Amelia Merwin had created it. Six years ago, she had opened the tomb's door and entered... then made a death knight from Hamel's corpse. Since his soul was no longer there, she had inserted another.

If that was truly what had happened, Eugene had even less chance of defeating it. A death knight created by a black mage of Amelia Merwin's caliber might be as strong as Gilead, the Lionheart family head, or one of the Black Lion Knights' commanders.

That was what reason told him. But Eugene had no intention of retreating.

So fucking what?

ROAR!

The flames surrounding Eugene grew fiercer still. He unleashed his mana without restraint and thrust a hand into his cloak. The death knight's hand swept toward him, trying to seize him. Eugene immediately escaped with Blink, appearing behind it.

He drew out a large axe, spinning his body as he pulled it from the cloak.

He failed to send the death knight flying. The instant the axe touched its body, its sword moved.

SWISH!

The huge axe was cleaved precisely in half. Eugene immediately released it and stepped half a pace back.

His hand was already inside his cloak. Next he drew a greatsword even larger than the axe. He raised it overhead and brought it down on the death knight's helmet.

Eugene had retreated, but the death knight did not. Instead, it stepped forward and swung its sword.

CRASH!

The greatsword shattered. Eugene did not watch his attack and weapon being destroyed.

He watched how the death knight swung its sword. He had deliberately eliminated his habits, but the form of his swings, the distribution of his mana, the output of his sword force... Those belonged to the realm of fundamentals, not habits. Things he could not discard even if he wanted to, and should never discard.

'... It's similar.'

He could not deny it. The death knight's movements resembled Hamel's.

Only its movements.

It was not Hamel.

Eugene became certain of that once again.

His cloak billowed wide. Eugene lowered himself at its center. The approaching death knight instinctively pulled back and raised its sword.

THUD!

An attack shot through a gap in the cloak and struck home. Yet the death knight's demonic energy did not waver. Its eyes gleaming, it looked beyond its upright sword.

A spear.

Held in both hands, the spear was aimed at the death knight.

"Boy. You are adept with many weapons."

The death knight spoke. Boy? Eugene gave an incredulous laugh and bent his knees.

"If you're going to impersonate someone, do it properly."

Hamel didn't say shit like that.

"Are you taking that helmet off or not?"

"I have no reason to."

"I think you'd be better off just shutting your fucking mouth."

If it was going to claim its name was Hamel, it needed to start by dropping that manner of speech. Hamel had never talked like that—not as a child, not as an adult, not even right before he croaked.

SWISH!

The spear shot forward. No, it only looked as though it did. The wavering tip, the motions of withdrawing and drawing back. This was not merely a visual trick. Its blatant menace made a feint seem real.

The death knight did not react. It retreated a little farther, keeping its distance from the spear.

As that distance opened up, Eugene accelerated. The flames wrapping the spear shone brilliantly. Embers scattered with every movement, and the Ring Flame Formula transformed every one of them into magic. Chains of flame pierced the air alongside the spear.

WHUMP!

Black light cleaved the chains attempting to coil around its body. It did not touch the spear. At the moment of collision, the spear's trajectory bent. Eugene made its straight shaft move freely and fluidly. The spear became a viper.

Its jaws spread wide. Its venomous fangs tore into the death knight.

BANG!

The death knight's mana shield shuddered. Yet he could not force it back. Even a clean thrust penetrated only shallowly. He lacked the strength to drive it in.

He had done this to make certain. These weapon techniques were Hamel's. If the creature wanted to claim it was Hamel, it should have been able to read and see through them.

"Your skill is remarkable, boy."

"I told you to shut your fucking mouth."

It had not simply taken the blow. It had retreated as the fangs bit, then swept the spear aside to keep it from penetrating farther. Its technique was precise and excellent, too. Just not good enough to justify claiming to be Hamel. Even that simple deflection sent a shiver through Eugene's bones.

Then the spear broke.

Eugene watched it shatter. The death knight's sword. A simple thrust without any finesse to speak of. But powerful and fast. It no longer retreated. Vicious demonic energy filled the space. Shaking off the pressure constricting his entire body, Eugene shoved his hand into his cloak.

"What a pity."

The death knight murmured. It was already right in front of him, driving a pitch-black slash toward him. No emotion could be read in its glowing eyes. But the words its hoarse voice uttered were unmistakable.

Eugene's face no longer twisted. His fury and murderous intent passed far beyond their boiling point and hardened into something cold.

A flash of sword light split the darkness.

For an instant, the death knight seemed unable to comprehend what had happened. Naturally. Its slash had reached Eugene's throat.

Yet it had not cut him. Its sword had been diverted sideways. That should have been impossible. Eugene was not strong enough to knock the death knight's sword aside.

"... What did you do?"

"You don't know?"

There was not a trace of amusement in Eugene's voice.

"That's proof you're not Hamel."

Mana manipulation that had astonished even Senya, an archmage. His affinity was exceptional, but what truly distinguished Hamel was his control over mana. Despite not being versed in magic, Hamel had wielded mana extraordinarily well in his previous life.

His body was not as strong as Moron's. Nor was it as perfect as Vermouth's. He could use neither magic nor divine power.

And yet he had been able to rampage across the battlefield. He had been able to deflect the enormous Kamash's attacks head-on and pierce through him.

"A parry?"

The death knight murmured as it looked at its diverted sword. Of course, this was no ordinary parry. The moment the attacks touched, he synchronized the wavelength of the mana forming his sword force with the opposing attack. He made contact, then redirected it.

'Heavy.'

Eugene ignored the throbbing pain in his arm. He could taste blood in his throat, too. His timing had been perfect, but was he unable to divert an attack that powerful unscathed? Without betraying any of it, Eugene spun the stars dwelling in his heart faster.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Within the circles traced by the stars, countless stars exploded and formed.

BOOM!

The sword wrapped in blue flames collided with darkness. This was not a fight he could afford to prolong. Swallowing his breath as it rose into his throat, Eugene unleashed attack after attack on the death knight. It responded, seeking a chance to counter, but its sword would not move as it wished.

Eugene would not allow it. When it tried to swing, he thrust downward. When it thrust, he struck from above. When it struck downward, he slashed from the side. Eugene read the death knight's attacks and moved first.

It felt as though his bones were being torn apart and his muscles ripped open. Couldn't even this magnificent body withstand this much abuse? It didn't matter. He had fought well with a far inferior body. As long as his mind remained intact, he could move. He could fight.

He would remove the helmet and see its face. If it would not take the helmet off, he would smash it. Even if the face revealed beneath it was not Hamel's.

He would kill it. That would not change. The mere fact that it was a death knight was reason enough. And besides, here, in this tomb, daring to hole up as though it owned the place, sitting before the door in the passage, claiming its name was Hamel—you?

The likes of you?

"Ngh...!"

It was being pushed back.

The death knight's body, its feet, were gradually driven backward. A sword it could not swing as it wished was nothing but a hindrance. Its movements were completely under Eugene's control. However much stronger it was, Eugene's technique surpassed its strength, manipulating it so that it could not display that power.

He was dancing on a blade's edge. He poured out attack after attack, but could not inflict a fatal wound on the death knight. Injuries were meaningless to the undead in the first place. With its reserves of demonic energy, it would heal most wounds instantly.

'Make it count.'

He stopped paying attention to his breathing. He devoted his entire awareness to attacking. A counterattack. A sword. He leaned his upper body back. The mana shield surrounding him was faint. He poured all the mana unleashed by the Ring Flame Formula into his sword.

Wynnyd, the Storm Sword.

Wind entwined with flame.

SCREECH!

The sword scraped against armor. The death knight recoiled in alarm.

You are not Hamel. Your technique is poor, and your combat instincts are lacking. You flaunt your bloated power, yet cannot control it perfectly.

'You aren't even... '

Eugene's body slid aside. A simple, straightforward thrust. Nothing more than a stab in a straight line. Sufficient speed gave it tremendous force, but that was all. The demonic energy dwelling in the sword exploded, enveloping Eugene.

Blink. Just before casting it, he stamped his foot against the ground.

WHUMP!

The floor melted, and sticky glue coiled around the death knight's feet. It only appeared to do so—the moment it touched its demonic energy, the glue dispersed. That was enough. He only needed to distract it for a moment.

'...a swordsman.'

It wielded its sword fairly well, but its swordsmanship was so crude that he could hardly believe it belonged to someone skilled enough to become a death knight. He would acknowledge that such swordsmanship would earn respect anywhere. But there was no way someone could stand beside Vermouth with this paltry skill. Three hundred years ago, not a single knight who followed that man had been less skilled with a sword than this death knight.

It corrected its stance with every swing. As it swung with its right hand, its left hand, shoulder, and knee twitched. Its gaze followed a little later than the swing.

It was not a swordsman.

An attack.

The death knight twisted its body.

ROAR!

Demonic energy poured from its swinging sword and filled the corridor. Something shattered and fell to the floor.

Countless weapons.

'He cast Blink... repeatedly in that brief span?'

The light in the death knight's eyes wavered. Behind it. Releasing demonic energy was faster than turning around. Flames entwined with the demonic energy and exploded. An intentional explosion. High-density mana overwhelmed its senses. One point appeared within it, then two, then dozens, hundreds. Every one was an attack, and they fired indiscriminately.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

Hundreds of Magic Missiles pierced the wavering demonic energy. In their midst, Eugene twisted his body.

"Let's see that mug of yours."

He spoke through ragged breaths.

Wynnyd's sword light split the darkness.

The death knight's helmet split in half.

THUD.

Only one sound of something falling. Eugene landed behind the death knight and turned his head.

The death knight stood motionless, holding its split helmet in both hands. Eugene steadied his panting breaths and glared at the back of its head.

Short hair. A severed left earlobe. Scars crisscrossing the nape.

"Look at me."

Eugene spoke, calming his heart as it threatened to burst.

The death knight turned its head.

A scar running from the right tip of its jaw across its eye and forehead. He knew that scar well. Before his actual death, it had been the closest he had ever come to dying. Not long after entering Helmuth.

The scar he had received fighting Incarceration's Sword.

'My ear... The Demon King of Cruelty pierced it.'

Ruinthos, the Demonic Spear.

Though hidden beneath the armor, his right shoulder would still bear the scar he had received fighting the Demon King of Carnage. Its weapon, Jigollas, the Crushing Hammer. Had he retreated even a little later, his body would have been torn in half.

But having his face sliced by Incarceration's Sword had brought him closer to death than that. Looking at that scar made his current, spotless face seem to throb.

"... Handsome bastard."

Eugene sneered as he looked at Hamel's face. Even after hundreds of years, it had not rotted. It was exactly as it had been in his previous life.

Except there was no life in it. Its skin was pale and bloodless, its eyes a dull red like rotten blood.

"Your soul's ugly as fuck, but your face is handsome."

The death knight did not answer. It stared blankly down at the helmet in its hands.

"... Grr... Uhh..."

Its body trembled.

CRUNCH!

The helmet shattered in its grip.

"GRAAAH!"

The death knight let out a monstrous scream and hurled its sword away.