Chapter 71 - Damn Reincarnation

The Tomb

The companions had gotten along well.

That was what he believed. They came from different backgrounds, but they all shared the same hatred of the Demon Kings.

Hamel had survived the attack on his village by monsters driven into a frenzy by a Demon King. At barely ten years old, he had lost his parents and his home because of a Demon King.

Moron was the son of the great chieftain of the northern Bayar tribe. The tribes there had long shared their lands with demons, but a sudden invasion by a Demon King had sent countless tribespeople back to the earth.

As the great chieftain’s son, Moron had sworn to kill the Demon King with his own hands for the sake of the other tribes.

Anise had been a candidate for sainthood whom the Holy Empire’s cardinals had painstakingly raised. They believed that they, guided by God, were best qualified to dispel the darkness hanging over the world, and that the saint they had raised was fit to serve as God’s representative.

By the time Anise became a saint, demonic armies were running rampant. Following the will of the Holy Empire and God, she resolved to bring salvation.

Senya had been taken in by elves, growing up in their forest and learning magic. Though they did not accept humans, the elves welcomed the naturally gifted Senya as one of their own. As Helmuth’s sinister power grew stronger, the elves began to die in increasing numbers.

Senya did not want the elves to die. To her, they were family, the people who had raised her as a child and taught her magic. She became Akasha’s master as their representative and left the forest.

Vermouth...

He had been one of the slaves being transported to Helmuth. His homeland was the Kingdom of Ashal, which had bordered Helmuth. The first country destroyed by demons and demonic beasts, its territory now belonged to the Kingdom of Ruhar, founded by Moron.

Vermouth had lost his family in the great invasion. The few survivors were captured by demonic beasts, divided into groups, and sent to Helmuth as slaves. Along the way, Vermouth seized a demon’s sword and rescued the slaves.

Leading them across the snowfields, he eventually encountered Moron’s Bayar tribe.

Their reasons differed, but they were all the same. Each had lost something to the demons. They did not want to lose anything more. They wanted revenge for what they had lost. That was why they had resolved to kill the Demon Kings.

And they possessed the strength and potential to attempt it.

Vermouth’s first companion was Moron. Vermouth knew that their still-meager strength was not enough to confront a Demon King. Rather than a great army, he believed they needed powerful individuals who could reliably stand against one.

And so they traveled in search of companions.

The third companion was Anise. The Holy Empire had taken notice of Vermouth after he rescued countless slaves being transported to Helmuth. Seeing his outrageous strength and potential, they decided to lend him the empire’s support.

But first, he needed to be tested. To determine whether his character was upright, the Holy Empire brought him before the Holy Sword, bestowed long ago by the God of Light.

Vermouth drew the Holy Sword without difficulty. The Holy Empire blessed his journey and commanded Anise to lend him her strength.

The fourth companion was Senya. She had been famous even before joining Vermouth. The world was full of chaos and despair, and everyone yearned for a hero.

A young witch who would suddenly appear on battlefields overrun by monsters or demonic beasts and unleash mighty spells. Several nations tried to recruit Senya, but she joined none of them, roaming the world alone and hunting demonic beasts.

Even Senya had not hesitated to become Vermouth’s companion. That was how radiant a presence he had been.

‘I was the last.’

Though not as famous as Senya, Hamel had been reasonably well known himself. Where Senya attracted the attention of nations, Hamel’s fame spread through mercenary circles and battlefields.

A young mercenary who wielded all manner of weapons with skill and returned alive from even the harshest battlefields. He belonged to no mercenary company and led no subordinates. Rather than seeking high pay, he wandered in search of battlefields teeming with demonic beasts—a ghost of the battlefield.

That was who Hamel had been back then.

He remembered their first meeting clearly. Warp technology had not been as advanced then as it was now, so crossing the sea meant taking a ship. After the war in northern Turas ended, Hamel was staying at a port, preparing to head for Helmuth, the stronghold of the Demon Kings and demons.

Then Vermouth and his party suddenly came to see him.

Hamel had picked up all sorts of rumors during his mercenary work, so he knew about Vermouth. The “Hero” who had made a name for himself across the sea over the past few years. He was interested. But become his companion?

["I don’t mind that, but I don’t want to take orders from some weak-ass fucker who’s worse than me."]

“Oh, fuck.”

Remembering his previous life, Eugene slapped his own cheek. Crazy bastard. He thought he had been a little over twenty at the time. He had been that old and still said something like that? Eugene could not bring himself to acknowledge it...

["He’s just some mercenary bastard you could find anywhere. Is there a reason we have to take him?"]

Senya had been prickly from their very first meeting.

["He appears utterly devoid of dignity, Lord Vermouth. There must be countless warriors better than a stray-dog mercenary like him. I hear that the only son of the Kiel Empire’s knight commander possesses not only skill, but excellent looks and character. Why not visit Kiel instead?"]

Anise had openly called Eugene a son of a bitch. She had couched it in terms of a stray dog, but there was no denying she had called him a dog.

["I hear the warriors of the maritime kingdom are exceptionally brave men. I would like to compete with them."]

Moron had been an idiot even then.

["No."]

Vermouth was an odd fellow. Rather than taking offense at Hamel’s sneering, he smiled faintly and dismissed the other three’s opinions.

["It has to be you."]

To be honest, Hamel had not been all that impressive back then. He had made a name for himself among mercenaries, but a mercenary was still only a mercenary. The Hamel of those days had been insignificant compared with his companions.

Yet Vermouth had said that. Eugene did not know what Vermouth had seen or sensed to make him say it. In any case, Vermouth drew his sword as Hamel demanded and sparred with him.

When he first took up a sword and began working as a mercenary, Hamel had thought he was a genius. The mercenaries around him had said so too.

["I’ve never seen a kid handle a blade as well as you."]

["You can already sense mana?"]

["Sword aura? Impossible!"]

Hamel was accustomed to the astonishment of those around him and to being called a genius. Nor had he let arrogance consume him. He never missed a day of effort or training. He had taken pride in his abilities.

And then he lost.

He had not merely lost. He had gotten his ass demolished. It was not quite like the fairy tale, where he failed to so much as graze Vermouth’s clothes—he had managed to cut only the edge of them. He had not buried his face in the ground and bawled, either. His face had still ended up in the dirt, though.

It was the first time he had lost so overwhelmingly.

["It seems I’m stronger than you."]

["Shut up... Fuck, again. Let’s do it again. I haven’t lost!"]

Vermouth fought him again as Hamel wished. They sparred three more times, and Hamel lost three more times. In the first bout, he had cut Vermouth’s clothes. In the next three, he could not even manage that.

["... I’m much weaker than you. Why do you want me as a companion?"]

["Because I need you."]

["I’m asking why the fuck you need me. You’re stronger than I am!"]

["If I won, you would join us. Wasn’t that our agreement?"]

["... I just don’t understand. There must be plenty of bastards who’d jump at the chance if you asked them to join you."]

["You’re the last."]

As Hamel sat slumped on the ground, covered in dirt, Vermouth reached out his hand.

["Come with us, Hamel."]

Hamel...

Eugene knew Vermouth. He knew his companions, too. That was why he did not want to accept his suspicions: that Vermouth had faked his death and done something, that he had fought Senya here.

‘... Why would you?’

If you’re still that full of life, couldn’t you fight the Demon Kings yourself? Why drag out a corpse, pull out its soul... and even... join hands with a Demon King?

‘You could at least have put my body back in the coffin, you son of a bitch.’

Eugene thought with his shoulders sagging.

‘Or... at least... left a proper explanation.’

Vermouth was probably the one who had left the necklace in the Lionheart Treasury, too. He could have placed it there without any trouble.

Found you.

‘... Senya.’

What complicated matters was how Senya had been able to send that phantom. If Senya had arranged his reincarnation and the necklace, that would be one thing. But if Vermouth had arranged them...

‘... No. Assuming Vermouth acted alone is jumping to conclusions.’

May we meet someday in the world you wished for.

He had thought that meant meeting again in heaven. But viewed in light of his reincarnation, it took on a different meaning. Had Vermouth... betrayed Senya? He did not know. Eugene stroked the leaf of the World Tree tucked inside his cloak.

He had to find Senya.

“... My lord, do you urgently need the toilet?”

Raman spoke cautiously. He was worried because Eugene, whom he was carrying on his back, had been squirming and groaning for some time.

“There are no toilets in the desert. If it’s truly urgent, I can dig a hole for you to relieve yourself—”

“Shut up and keep walking.”

Grinding his teeth, Eugene kicked Raman’s thigh.

They had escaped the underground tomb and labyrinth.

Eugene had pushed himself too hard with broken bones. That was why he was riding on Raman’s back. It was better to concentrate on healing while being carried than to walk on his own.

‘I miss elixirs.’

Eugene ground his teeth. Elixirs had been precious treasures even three hundred years ago, but the Hero’s party had always had them on hand. He had brought plenty of potions, but injuries this severe could not be healed immediately with potions alone.

‘Healing magic is divine magic, so I couldn’t learn it... Damn it. Should I learn divine magic too? It depends on faith, though, so I doubt I’d get very far.’

Senya had been adept at high-level healing magic despite never having studied divine magic. But hers was magic unique to the elves, and it had not been passed down to later generations.

“My lord, please bear with it a little longer. We can reach Kajitan in a few days. Then you can visit a doctor or a healing priest...”

“It’s not that bad.”

“If you leave them untreated, your bones may heal crooked.”

Raman had survived several times thanks to Eugene and was sincerely concerned for him.

“I’ll handle that myself. What are you going to do?”

“... Pardon?”

“About the emir of Kajitan.”

“Are you worried about me?”

“No. If you lose your head and chop off your master’s, it’ll make things troublesome for me. If you’re going to do it, wait until I leave.”

Eugene answered with a snort. The emir of Kajitan knew nothing about the tomb or Amelia Merwin. He had merely restricted entry into the Kazani Desert at the sandcasters’ request.

“... That...”

Raman hesitated, unable to answer immediately. His master had known that the sandstorms in the Kazani Desert were artificial. But that tacit acceptance had probably been handed down for many years. Nahama was gradually eating away at Turas’s territory through desertification, and sudden sandstorms had to claim victims befitting that purpose.

The settlers had become sacrifices for Nahama’s glory.

But Raman did not want to accept that. Who would? A sandstorm had suddenly descended and swallowed their friends and families. And they were told that it had been unavoidable, for the nation’s glory. What survivor could nod and agree that it was right?

“... I don’t want to resent my master.”

Raman lowered his head and murmured.

“This desert was created over a hundred years ago, and sandstorms have continued to appear here ever since. The emir before my master also turned a blind eye for Nahama’s sake.”

“So?”

“... I will leave the guard. I don’t want to resent my master, but I don’t want to give my life for him either.”

“Whether you quit is none of my business. Do you have a way to make a living?”

“... I would like to follow you, my lord.”

Raman turned his head to look at Eugene. Eugene grimaced in disgust and shoved his cheek away.

“Don’t turn your head. Your beard smells like a dog.”

“Pardon?”

“And why would you follow me? I’m not even from Nahama.”

“I will follow wherever you go, my lord.”

“Shave your beard first.”

“... Pardon?”

“You don’t have to follow me everywhere. I still have business in Nahama, and I need a local guide. Raman, have you ever been to Hogani?”

“Hogani... Do you mean the holy site of Light? I visited a few years ago.”

A holy site.

That was what Hogani was called. A place Saint Anise had visited on her pilgrimage. Whether it had been the pilgrimage’s final destination was unknown, but Hogani was where Anise had last been seen two hundred years ago.

Hogani was a city very close to Kajitan.

‘... Maybe she really did come to mourn me...’

Would any trace of Anise remain in Hogani?

Somewhere in that vast desert?

* * *

“...”

Tairi Al-Madani, the emir of Kajitan, narrowed his eyes and stared ahead.

Eugene sat before him, with Raman standing behind Eugene. Tairi pondered the situation. Should he accept what he saw and heard at face value, or be wary of some hidden intention?

“... You do realize you’re being unreasonable?”

Tairi asked in disbelief.

“I’ve heard everything you told my men.”

Raman’s men, including his lieutenant, had been thoroughly beaten and injured by Eugene. To explain those injuries, they had no choice but to report honestly to Tairi.

It was Raman who had claimed they were “bandits” to carry out Tairi’s orders covertly, and the lieutenant had a loose tongue. He pinned their failure to properly carry out their master’s orders on their captain, Raman.

“Eugene Lionheart. Do you... truly believe I secretly sent my men to commit banditry?”

“Whatever your intentions in sending them, Your Excellency, isn’t it true that they caused me harm?”

For Eugene, Tairi was easier to deal with when he knew the facts.

“It was to protect you.”

“Why would protecting me require lying about being bandits?”

“Because you are a Lionheart of the Kiel Empire, and I am an emir of Nahama.”

Tairi spat the words out with a frown.

“I don’t know whether you’re aware, but relations between Nahama and Kiel are not particularly friendly. Kiel’s emperor is wary of Nahama’s strength, and the Sultan is restraining his anger over Kiel’s faultfinding.”

“What does that have to do with your lie, Your Excellency?”

“Why would you think it has nothing to do with it? Sudden sandstorms are frequent in Kazani.”

Tairi was wary of what Eugene might know. The Kazani Desert’s sandcasters. Deliberately created sandstorms. Invasion. Of course, other countries probably suspected that the sandstorms were a form of invasion... But if that boy had actually clashed with the sandcasters, this would not be something he could easily suppress.

‘... No message has arrived.’

The sandcasters were holed up at the far end of the desert. They periodically raised sandstorms, gradually expanding it. Unless Eugene Lionheart had wings, reaching the edge of the desert in these few days would have been impossible.

“Protecting you openly could be seen as Nahama bowing its head to Kiel. Besides, I needed to ascertain your intentions. Why were you heading into the uninhabited Kazani Desert?”

“I did not sit down here to be interrogated.”

“Precisely. I cannot interrogate you. So I ordered my men to follow you and protect you should anything happen. Had Raman Shulhob, standing behind you, carried out his orders properly, you and I would not be in this uncomfortable situation.”

Tairi glanced at Raman as he spoke.

“I understand your displeasure, but I had no choice. And no actual banditry took place, did it? According to my men, they merely followed you at a sufficient distance. Then you suddenly attacked them.”

Eugene chuckled and sipped his tea. The old emir was making no mention of assassins or sandcasters. He did not know that Eugene had been attacked by assassins and wiped out the sandcasters beneath the desert.

Of course he didn’t. The labyrinth Eugene had fallen into was a dungeon under Amelia Merwin’s control. Even the Sultan did not know that Hamel’s tomb was there. Besides, hadn’t Amelia said it herself? Only the sandcasters stationed there had known about the dungeon.

Those dead sandcasters had obeyed Amelia Merwin and feared her. Tairi Al-Madani had tried to keep Eugene out of the desert because he was wary of the sandstorms, not Amelia Merwin.

‘There’s no need to stir things up for nothing.’

Doing so would put Eugene in a difficult position, too. He intended to settle things here reasonably and withdraw.

“Whatever you say, Your Excellency, it doesn’t change the fact that you threatened my safety, does it?”

“My incompetent subordinates failed to understand my orders properly. There were misunderstandings on both sides.”

“I’m wondering how I should explain that misunderstanding to my family.”

“... I don’t quite understand what you’re—”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to make you understand. If I do, however, you’ll find yourself in a very difficult position. It isn’t something I can speak of lightly, either.”

Eugene stroked the elegant teacup with his heavily bandaged hand.

“Once I say it, I’ll have to take responsibility for my words. Unfortunately, I’m still young, so to do that, I’ll have no choice but to borrow my family’s strength.”

“... Lord Eugene.”

“I don’t want that either. It could become a matter between nations... and I don’t want to put my family in a difficult position. Can you take responsibility, Your Excellency?”

Tairi released a long sigh and stroked his beard. Eugene grinned at the old emir before him.

“... My lord. What do you want?”

“Five hundred million sals.”

Eugene spoke as he sipped his tea.

“I think that’s not merely an appropriate price for smoothing over the strain caused by this misunderstanding, but a bargain.”

“... Ha ha.”

“Well, it wasn’t something you intended... Let’s call it an unfortunate incident neither of us could avoid. I’ll keep my mouth shut, so all you need to do is open your wallet.”

“I hear you’re only nineteen. Quite audacious.”

“I’ve heard that plenty of times. If I run wild like a colt with its tail on fire, aren’t you the one who’ll be in trouble?”

“I feel rather wronged. I sent my men for your sake. Why should I pay money as though I committed a crime? There seem to be plenty of other ways.”

“Other ways? Your words frighten someone as young as me, Your Excellency. Surely you don’t intend to kill me here? Or will you send assassins? Neither would be the Sultan’s wish. The responsibility that decision would bring upon you would amount to dozens of times five hundred million sals.”

Tairi fell silent for a moment. Five hundred million sals? As Eugene said, it was not an excessive sum.

But as Tairi had said, he felt wronged. Banditry? Utter nonsense.

‘... If five hundred million sals will settle this...’

What if Eugene had encountered sandcasters in the desert? No, he thought that was impossible. He would have to send someone to check, but a mere nineteen-year-old boy could not have encountered the desert’s sandcasters and assassins and returned alive.

Even if he had been lucky enough to survive, Tairi could not understand someone going through that and then talking about a “misunderstanding” and five hundred million sals.

“... I will pay.”

Tairi slowly nodded.

“If that will soothe your anger.”

“I’m not so ill-mannered that I’d throw a tantrum after taking the money.”

“I understand that the Lionheart main family is among the richest on the continent. Do you not benefit from that?”

It was a subtle—no, blatant—jab.

“My family does have a lot of money, but it isn’t all mine, is it?”

“... Ha ha.”

Tairi gave a hollow laugh and crooked a finger. The attendant waiting behind him bowed deeply and left the room.

“... Now that we’ve resolved our misunderstanding, let me ask one question. I’m terribly curious. Why did you enter Kazani?”

“I wanted to behold the vast desert, feel nature’s grandeur, and build my courage.”

“...”

“It was also the closest desert.”

“If that is truly what you seek, I will personally introduce you to Nahama’s expansive deserts.”

“No, thank you. I’ve already experienced quite enough.”

“What did you see in Kazani?”

“A desert.”

Eugene answered with a smile. It was obvious that Tairi wanted to ask outright but could not bring himself to, so he was asking indirectly.

‘There’s nothing there anymore.’

Hamel’s tomb.

The statue, the coffin, the memorial stone, a few pillars... He had stuffed everything he did not want to leave buried into his cloak.

Eugene had collapsed the labyrinth connected to the tomb with his own hands.

‘Go rummage around and dig up some corpses, then.’

It had been Amelia Merwin, not the Sultan, who controlled that dungeon. Neither the Sultan nor the other sandcasters knew about the tomb.

Unless Amelia Merwin spoke up, no one would learn what Eugene had experienced there.

“Oh, and I’ll be taking Raman Shulhob with me.”

“... Why?”

“He threatened me, so shouldn’t he pay the price? It’s not as though I can make you pay it, Your Excellency.”

“... Ha ha!”

Tairi let out a dry laugh and glanced at Raman. For a moment, Raman hoped his master might defend him.

“If you insist on recompense, I will have Raman executed before your eyes.”

“Oh, come now. I’m not so ruthless that I’d chop off someone’s head over something like this.”

“...”

“I’ll just take him to the main family and have him shovel shit in the stables.”

Tairi considered Raman’s worth for a moment. Captain of the Second Division of his warriors. Raman was a warrior of recognized ability, but having failed to carry out his orders properly, he was no longer worth keeping. The First Division, which served as Tairi’s personal guard, already had plenty of warriors better than Raman.

‘A fool who doesn’t even suspect the sandcasters.’

He would be executed anyway. Even if Tairi gave him to Eugene...

“Do as you wish, my lord.”

Tairi sneered, twisting his lips.

Before long, the attendant returned carrying a large box. When Tairi opened it, beautiful jewels glittered inside.

“Wait a moment while I select the jewels.”

Eugene had expected a stack of cash, but apparently Tairi meant to pay in jewels. Looking at the sparkling gems, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

‘Five hundred million sals only buys one giant’s ball.’

Should he have asked for more while he was at it?

Though he was not short of money, Eugene suddenly felt a pang of regret.

“Let’s make it a billion sals instead of five hundred million.”

“... What?”