Chapter 80 - Damn Reincarnation

Genos Lionheart

After taking Eugene downstairs, Genos told him to wait a moment and disappeared somewhere.

He returned shortly afterward carrying a bouquet of wildflowers and a bottle of liquor. Unable to fathom what the man was trying to do, Eugene stared at him in bewilderment.

"The statue?"

"... Ah, yes."

Eugene took the statue and memorial stone out of his cloak for the time being. A tear rolled down from Genos's reddened eyes. No matter how Eugene looked at it, that was not a tear caused by conjunctivitis.

Genos gazed at the statue and memorial stone for a long while, then bowed his head. With careful hands, he placed the flowers and bottle in front of the memorial stone.

He set a cup filled to the brim with liquor before the stone, then began gulping down the liquor himself. Watching this, Eugene could not help seriously wondering.

'Is that bastard a descendant of mine, by any chance?'

That was impossible. Genos Lionheart. He was the captain of the Black Lion Knights' Second Division and a descendant of Vermouth.

'A descendant I never knew about... married one of Vermouth's descendants and had a child... No, that's impossible. I've never had any children.'

He was not without experience with women, but he had never fathered a child. In fact, after becoming Vermouth's companion, he had never even slept with a woman. Senya and Anise were right beside him, watching like hawks; Vermouth and Moron showed no interest in nighttime pleasures, and Hamel himself was not the sort to go out of his way to enjoy such entertainment.

However he thought about it, there was simply no chance he had produced a descendant. Then who did this bastard think he was, blubbering in front of Hamel's statue and memorial stone while offering flowers and liquor?

"... Ahem."

After watching Genos for a while, Eugene quietly cleared his throat. In that short time, Genos had emptied the entire large bottle.

'Rude bastard. He offers me one measly cup, then drinks every last drop himself?'

Despite that thought, he honestly did not feel bad about it. Eugene tensed his cheeks to keep them from twitching and stared at the back of Genos's head.

"Sir Genos... do you, um... have some connection to Lord Hamel?"

"..."

Genos, who had been silently shedding tears without a sob, turned his head. Wiping the tears running down his cheeks with the back of his hand, he let out a long sigh.

"... I am Lord Hamel's disciple."

What kind of crazy bullshit was that?

Eugene barely swallowed the shout rising to his lips, then searched through every memory of his previous life.

A disciple? He had never taught anyone in his past life. Back when he was making a name for himself as a mercenary, quite a few people had sought him out to learn how to wield a sword or survive on a battlefield. But Hamel had been so intoxicated with his own brilliance that he would neither keep anyone inferior to him by his side nor try to teach them.

"... Hmm... I'm not sure what you mean, Sir Genos. Lord Hamel lived three hundred years ago, didn't he? As far as I know, he left no descendants and took no disciples."

"Strictly speaking, I did not learn from Lord Hamel himself."

Then why the hell was he calling himself a disciple?

"... As is true of every collateral branch, my family split off from the main family. My distant ancestor was Lord Vermouth's second son."

Three hundred years ago.

Vermouth the Great had taken more than ten wives and fathered many children. That was the beginning of the Lionheart family. For whatever reason, Vermouth had begun placing great importance on bloodline and the direct line at that point. Fortunately, his eldest son was the most gifted of his many children.

In truth, it would not have mattered even if he had not been gifted. If Vermouth put his mind to teaching his eldest son, even someone born an idiot could have grown skilled enough to leave all his siblings far behind.

In any case, the eldest son succeeded Vermouth as family head, while his many siblings left the main family to found the collateral branches.

"My ancestor did not become family head, but our great founder seems to have been fond of him. Tradition meant that the White Flame Formula was not passed down to me, but I inherited something else instead."

"... What does that have to do with calling yourself Lord Hamel's disciple?"

"The founder taught my ancestor Lord Hamel's techniques."

Genos wiped his damp eyes and raised his head.

Eugene's lips moved, but no words came out.

"... Lord Hamel's techniques?"

"... There is something I want to ask you."

Genos rose, holding the empty bottle.

"Did you happen to find his secret manual in Lord Hamel's tomb?"

"... Pardon?"

"Earlier, I watched your fight with Lady Carmen. It could hardly be called a fight, really, but it was enough to give me a glimpse of your peculiar techniques."

"... What are you trying to say?"

"The technique you used to deflect Lady Carmen's punches."

Genos drew a deep breath before continuing.

"That... is Lord Hamel's technique, which our founder taught my family's ancestor. Of all the Lionheart families, ours alone has inherited Lord Hamel's techniques."

"..."

"It is a technique that cannot be imitated without a deep understanding of mana, mastery over it, and a genius's instinct for combat. I could scarcely believe what I saw earlier, but if you have been to Lord Hamel's tomb... it is not entirely inexplicable. If you obtained Lord Hamel's secret manual there, that is."

Eugene's mind spun. In other words, that bastard Vermouth had taken it upon himself to teach Hamel's techniques to his own descendant three hundred years ago.

'Motherfucker. If you were going to teach them, you should've taught the main family. Why teach them to the second son, who didn't even become family head?'

It was too late now to take him to task for teaching them without permission. Eugene smoothed his contorting expression and stared straight at Genos.

"... It isn't difficult to answer you, but there is something I don't understand. Why did the founder teach Lord Hamel's techniques to his second son, who did not become family head?"

He did not simply bury his dissatisfaction and questions. He had no idea whether Genos, a descendant so many generations removed, could answer, but he asked anyway.

"Because they were techniques the main family did not need."

"Because Lord Hamel's techniques were crappier than the White Flame Formula?"

"Just as I thought. You did obtain Lord Hamel's secret manual."

How had he arrived at that conclusion? Eugene glared at Genos without answering, but Genos nodded, certain of his theory.

"Otherwise, you would have no reason to be angry about this, would you?"

That was because he was Hamel himself, you son of a bitch. Eugene barely swallowed the shout rising in his throat. Since he could not say that outright, he decided to let Genos misunderstand as he pleased.

"... The Black Lion Knights exist today, but who do you think filled that role three hundred years ago?"

"... Pardon?"

"As the family's influence grew and its members increased, there were bound to be more undesirable elements among them. People unworthy of being descendants of our great founder. My ancestor was the first Black Lion, who punished such people."

Eugene understood.

In other words, Vermouth had raised his second son, who had not become family head... as a hunting dog to keep the main family and the other branches in check.

Whatever they called themselves, the Black Lion Knights were hunting dogs at their core. Eugene could not help spending a moment wondering how he should feel about that.

'That means he decided my techniques could take on the main family's White Flame Formula and the collateral branches.'

That was the positive interpretation. Viewed negatively, however, he had passed his friend's techniques down to a mere hunting dog.

'Rotten bastard. If you were going to do that, you could've at least put up a statue of me at that guy's family estate.'

Eugene quelled the anger boiling inside him. Genos said nothing further, merely gazing at Eugene's face.

"... About Lord Hamel's techniques that were passed down in your family. Is parrying all there is?"

"Ignition."

Genos said it abruptly, presumably to gauge Eugene's reaction. But Eugene did not let his surprise show.

'Vermouth, you son of a bitch.'

Though he showed no reaction, Eugene cursed Vermouth in his head.

"... What is that?"

"A technique that deliberately sends the mana in one's core out of control. It has almost never been used because of the danger involved."

"... Why are you asking about the secret manual?"

"If you have it, please hand it over to me."

"What would you do with it?"

"As I said earlier, Lord Hamel's techniques are extremely difficult to learn. Even if you understand the theory, they are difficult to reproduce physically. Nor are they easy to teach. But if there were a secret manual..."

"First, let's straighten out our lineage."

Eugene said it without warning.

"Technically, you could call me Lord Hamel's direct successor. Doesn't that put me above you in our line of succession?"

"... What?"

"I'm the senior disciple, and you're the junior disciple. You may have been born decades before me, but if you claim to be Lord Hamel's disciple, you must honor me as your senior."

"What are you suddenly... Wait. Does that mean there really was a secret manual in Lord Hamel's tomb?"

"I memorized it and burned it."

"Why!"

"Why would I keep carrying it around? Didn't you hear what I said earlier? I nearly died in that tomb. Finding the hidden secret manual... was all well and good, but a death knight attacked me!"

Genos's eyes quivered at those words.

"... Wait. Are you saying you became able to use that parrying technique within mere days of finding Lord Hamel's secret manual?"

"I've always been good at parrying."

"Impossible. Lord Hamel's parrying is a completely different technique from ordinary parrying..."

"You don't seem to know much about me, but I'm talented enough to have been adopted into the main family, and I'm a genius among geniuses—the youngest person ever granted entry to Akron."

It was embarrassing to say it himself, but every word was true.

"So. What will you do? If you agree to honor me as your senior disciple, I'll compare the techniques of Lord Hamel passed down in your family with the secret manual in my head and fill in whatever you're missing."

Genos's lips opened and closed, but he could not form a reply.

Here was a man calling himself a disciple Hamel had never taken. Even so, Eugene could not hate Genos. Wasn't he the only person in the world who had carried on Hamel's legacy?

'He offered me flowers and shed tears for me, too.'

He did seem to genuinely respect Hamel as his teacher. Thanks to that damned fairy tale, Hamel was called Hamel the Stupid and looked down on. The fact that Genos nevertheless called himself Hamel's disciple was endearing.

"... Do you really have the secret manual in that head of yours, sir?"

"Pick one: either speak respectfully or don't."

Amelia Merwin. Being reminded of that damned bitch's manner of speaking sent a sharp surge of irritation through him.

"... Must I address you as my senior in front of other people as well?"

Genos asked hesitantly. This was a matter of great importance to him. Even among the Black Lion Knights, he was known for being stern and unapproachable, and he was also a family head responsible for an entire household.

"That would make things troublesome for me too, and we'd have to explain our relationship... so I'll let you reserve that for when we're alone."

"... Hmm..."

Genos sank into thought with a low groan. After deliberating for a while, he finally nodded and spoke in a small voice.

"... Senior."

"Yes, Junior. How long do you intend to leave me standing here? You said you'd show me to my room. When exactly are you going to do that?"

Eugene answered immediately, putting the statue and memorial stone back inside his cloak. Genos's cheek twitched at the lightning-fast change in attitude. But he could not snap at Eugene; he could only grind his teeth.

"Did you just grind your teeth? Are you unhappy with my attitude? Don't you think you're showing too little respect for your senior?"

"... I'm sorry..."

"I understand that you're confused and having trouble adjusting, Junior. But I'd appreciate it if you got used to this quickly."

"..."

"So, when are you taking me to my room?"

Eugene's quarters comprised an entire keep some distance from where the Black Lion Knights and the Council of Elders stayed. Cyan would take several more days to reach Black Lion Castle, so until then, Eugene and the servants assigned there would be its only occupants.

"First, list the techniques passed down in your family, Junior."

Seated in a soft chair in a room within the keep, Eugene abruptly made that request.

"... The founder passed down ten techniques in total."

Ten whole techniques? Eugene was inwardly surprised, but nodded with a composed expression.

"What are they?"

"... As you know from reading the secret manual, Senior, Lord Hamel's techniques are based on the use of mana rather than weapon skills. They can be used without restriction, regardless of the weapon you wield..."

"I know. I'm asking you what the ten techniques are."

Had he really had ten techniques? However hard Eugene thought, he could not figure it out. Ignition was the only technique he had given a grandiose name in his previous life. For everything else, he had simply fought as the situation demanded, letting his hands do their work. How the hell had ten techniques been passed down?

"... Hamel Style Secret Art: Ignition."

"Hamel Style...? What the hell is that?"

"You don't know? The teachings our great founder imparted to our ancestor are the Hamel Style."

"That name... did the founder come up with it himself?"

"I'm not sure, but they have been passed down in our family under the name Hamel Style."

Eugene covered his face with both hands.

'Vermouth... Vermouth, you son of a bitch. If you were going to name it, you could've at least picked a good one. Hamel Style...? Are you out of your fucking mind?'

"Hamel Style, First Technique: Mana Parrying."

"..."

"Hamel Style, Second Technique: Ten Thousand Thunderbolts."

"Fucking hell."

Unable to listen to any more, Eugene clamped his hands over his ears. Genos tilted his head in puzzlement.

"... Senior? What's wrong?"

"No... this... fuck... ah... g-go on."

Ten Thousand Thunderbolts? Teeenn Thousand Thunderbolts?

'When did I ever use a technique like that?'

No matter how he searched his memories, he had never once swung a weapon while shouting, "Ten Thousand Thunderbolts."