Chapter 88 - Damn Reincarnation

Leaving the Castle

“You intend to go without an escort?”

When Eugene told him he was heading south, Genos could only ask about his escort rather than his reasons.

The Great Forest of Samar was the largest jungle on the continent. Its sheer size rivaled the territory of the Kiel Empire, and countless tribes lived within it, forming nations of their own.

The tribes living there did not embrace outside civilization. This tendency was particularly strong among those settled deep within the forest.

For hundreds of years, Kiel had negotiated with the natives to bring Samar into its territory, resorting to military force when necessary.

It had not gone well. Samar was vast, and there were far too many natives. Having lived in the forest for ages, they had developed their own civilization in distinctive ways rather than adopting that of outsiders.

Shamanism and spirits. Methods of fighting in the forest. Beyond that, Samar’s natives even handled monsters like livestock. Though Samar was divided into dozens of tribal nations, when facing Kiel, they united into a massive tribal alliance called Samar and refused to submit to its rule.

But Kiel was an empire. Had it truly wished to, it could have conquered Samar one way or another.

The reason it had been unable to do so was that Helmuth supported the freedom of Samar’s tribes. Freedom was what they called it, but a closer look revealed that various interests had aligned.

For three hundred years, Helmuth had sought the continent’s acceptance. It had supported nations damaged by the war and welcomed immigrants. It had permitted the Holy Empire to establish a diocese within its territory, and even turned a blind eye to the Holy Empire and the Demon-Subjugating Alliance stationing troops along its borders.

Even so, the continent’s nations still did not accept Helmuth. How could they? Demon Kings, demons, and demonic beasts were far too dangerous.

Samar was an enormous forest that rivaled Kiel in size. By protecting Samar, Helmuth had gained the support of its tribespeople. Other nations quietly lent their weight to Helmuth’s support as well. They did not want Kiel adding that immense forest to its territory.

Thus, Kiel could not mobilize its armies on a grand scale to conquer Samar. If it did, Helmuth would intervene.

“It is far too dangerous.”

Genos knew very well how dangerous and savage Samar’s barbarians were. Mount Uklas, where Black Lion Castle stood, connected to Samar’s forest. Though they had been quiet lately, Samar’s barbarians had made numerous attempts to enter Kiel illegally through Mount Uklas.

For that reason, the knights of Black Lion Castle constantly kept watch over Samar. Though the Black Lion Knights belonged to the Lionheart family, Kiel had also officially entrusted them with guarding the border.

“It is inconvenient, too. There are no warp gates there, nor any cities.”

“You’re exaggerating, Junior. People live there, too. Why wouldn’t they have cities?”

“... They have no cities as you know them, Senior. Can you call a place in the middle of the forest, with low buildings crammed together and no proper roads, a city?”

“If enough people live there, it’s a city.”

“Even the toilets will be pit latrines.”

“What’s wrong with that? Nice and environmentally friendly.”

Genos let out a deep sigh at Eugene’s answer.

“... I am saying you should avoid going if possible. Of course I have faith in your abilities, Senior, but surviving in Samar requires luck as well as skill.”

“Then I just need to be good enough not to need luck.”

“... That is...”

“Let’s be honest, Junior. You’ve decided I’m not good enough to survive in Samar. Right?”

Instead of answering, Genos merely furrowed his brow slightly. What else could he do? He did not want to openly wound his young senior’s pride.

But he was worried about Eugene. His young senior was nineteen. There was no questioning his natural talent, and his spar with Carmen had shown that he was highly skilled as well. Even so, Samar was far too dangerous to wander without an escort.

There were many people in the world who enjoyed that danger, calling it a thrill. Wealthy merchants. Nobles seeking an exotic holiday. They spent enormous sums hiring escorts and guides before entering Samar.

And every year, some of them inevitably failed to return. With luck, they could return after paying a massive ransom. Without it, not even their bodies could be recovered.

“I heard more than enough about how dangerous it is and why I shouldn’t go before I came here.”

Gilead had vehemently objected when Eugene said he would go to Samar. Whatever his reasons, Gilead did not want his adopted son entering such a perilous place.

Surprisingly, Doynes had not opposed it as fiercely as Gilead. In a few months, Eugene would be an adult himself. He would no longer be a child for the adults to coddle. Doynes had, however, expressed concern over the weapons Eugene would be borrowing.

In that uncertain situation, it was Kristina who supported Eugene’s wishes. She persuaded Gilead by saying that if she, a saint, accompanied Eugene, God’s protection would surely be with them.

“Junior, I’m not an idiot. I’m not going somewhere dangerous enough to get me killed for no reason. I’m going because I have a reason to go, and I’m confident I can protect myself.”

“... I have heard that your White Flame Formula is at four stars, Senior,” Genos said.

“I have not trained in the White Flame Formula myself, but I do know that no one in the main family’s history has reached four stars at your age.”

“I am pretty amazing. And I’ve learned magic on top of that.”

“May I test your abilities, Senior?”

“And if you think I’m not good enough?”

“I will stop you from going somewhere dangerous.”

Eugene burst out laughing and stood up.

“Well, now. If I refuse, I get the feeling you won’t respect me as your senior anymore... So I suppose I have no choice. Shall we do it right now?”

“Please go down to the training grounds first. It may only be a light spar, but since the outcome will bind us to each other’s demands, we need a witness. I will bring one.”

He intended to leave Eugene no way out. Eugene chuckled and nodded.

“I’m not going to disregard your wishes just because I’m your senior, you know.”

“It is better to be certain.”

And so, people gathered at the training grounds. The elders, led by Doynes. Gilead, the family head. Even the captains of the Black Lion Knights. Eugene looked around at the people standing outside the grounds and whistled.

“Isn’t this a little excessive for witnesses?”

With so many people watching, he could no longer speak to Genos as an inferior. Genos took off his uniform jacket and set it aside before answering.

“I only asked the family head to act as a witness. But when they heard you and I were sparring, Eugene, a great many people took an interest.”

That was only natural. Genos Lionheart was one of the three strongest fighters in the Black Lion Knights, alongside Dominic and Carmen.

And Eugene Lionheart, despite coming from a collateral branch, had been adopted into the main family on the strength of his talent alone. In many ways, he was a boy without precedent in Lionheart history.

“Let us use wooden swords rather than real ones.”

“What about sword force?”

“That would defeat the purpose of using wooden swords. It will be safer for both of us to limit our use of mana to our bodies.”

With that, Genos picked up a wooden sword. Eugene picked one up as well. Even without real blades or sword force, a wooden sword swung with enough strength could shatter bones. With mana added, that went without saying.

They would therefore protect their bodies with mana shields. If a shield was breached and its owner injured, that person would lose. Simple rules.

“And magic?”

“Use it if you need to.”

“Magic isn’t what you want to see from me, Sir Genos, so I won’t use it.”

Eugene grinned as he spoke. Without responding, Genos gripped his wooden sword and stepped back.

“Lady Carmen.”

Watching the two face each other, Dominic spoke up. He stroked his chin and glanced at Carmen.

“You have sparred with both Sir Genos and Eugene. What do you think of this match?”

“... Those two are alike.”

Carmen had an unlit cigar between her lips. She took it between her fingers and folded her arms.

“Without magic as a variable, that little brat Eugene can’t possibly take on Genos. That should be obvious... But honestly, I’m not sure.”

“... You’re not sure?”

“Sir Genos can’t use his full strength either. You can’t cripple or kill your opponent in a spar, especially a child of the main family.”

Carmen could not be certain how this spar would end. It was because of a strange premonition she found difficult to explain. Parrying to deflect attacks was a technique that could be called Genos’s specialty.

Eugene used the same kind of technique. Their skills were so similar that one might have thought he was Genos’s disciple, or had received instruction from him.

‘... But... in terms of refinement...’

It was an absurd thought, but having faced him herself, she had felt Eugene’s technique was more refined than Genos’s. Carmen had not used her full strength when sparring with Eugene. Yet the attacks she had rained down were so heavy and powerful that a nineteen-year-old boy should never have been able to handle them.

She had declared that she would defeat him within a minute. Forget a minute—she had failed to knock him down even after three. No, she had not even breached his defenses... Nor had she been going easy on him. He had deflected her attacks while manipulating mana with an absurd degree of efficiency.

That technique was superior to Genos’s.

“You may attack first.”

Genos yielded the first move. Since he was Eugene’s senior by a vast margin, the concession was appropriate. Eugene gave a little chuckle and took his stance.

‘This works out nicely. I wanted to see it for myself.’

That damned Hamel Style. That bastard Vermouth. Through Genos, Eugene had read how the Hamel Style Vermouth had systematized and taught was structured, so he knew it well.

He would have known even without reading it. All ten forms of the Hamel Style were techniques Hamel had used.

Back when he had been young and immature.

‘My technique is superior. I reworked the Hamel Style for him, but Genos can’t have immediately internalized the changes to techniques he’s practiced for decades.’

Even if he had, it would not be a problem. Those changes had come from Eugene’s mind, too. In other words, this spar should never have been a viable contest.

Genos could not possibly be unaware of that. Yet he had proposed a spar to assess Eugene’s capabilities beyond technique. And if Genos could overwhelm Eugene even using the same techniques... the spectators might not understand, but Eugene could no longer insist on having his way.

‘You worry too much, Junior.’

Eugene extended his wooden sword straight ahead.

‘To start... Yes. Hamel Style, Second Form... No, fuck. Why am I thinking of that goddamned name?’

His face twisted into a scowl as he pushed off the ground.

Ten Thousand Thunderbolts. For all its grand name, it was merely a thrust that split the sword into dozens of images. With sword force added, it could create hundreds of sword trajectories, though not ten thousand.

‘Ten Thousand Thunderbolts...!’

Genos’s eyes flew wide. Though Eugene had not shouted the technique’s name, there was no way Genos would fail to recognize it.

‘No, it’s different. This isn’t the Ten Thousand Thunderbolts I know. Improved through Master Hamel’s secret manual... The true Ten Thousand Thunderbolts...!’

He had underestimated his young senior somewhat. He called him Senior only because their places in the lineage left him no choice; in pure ability, he had believed himself overwhelmingly superior.

But after seeing Eugene unleash the true Ten Thousand Thunderbolts, Genos could no longer believe that. Eugene had perfectly internalized the true technique and was executing it before his eyes.

Even without sword force, the wooden sword’s path split into dozens of trajectories. Each followed a different course, pressing in without a gap. Genos immediately drew his wooden sword back.

Hamel Style, Third Form.

Lightning Counter.

CRACKLE!

Genos’s wooden sword became a swift bolt of lightning. It pierced the center of the shower of sword trajectories.

CLANG!

Both wooden swords sprang back. A failure. Lightning Counter was a counterattack that avoided contact with the opponent’s attack. But Genos drew his sword back without hesitation.

‘The lightning of the Hamel Style never stops.’

The mana he channeled controlled his body. His arm, driven back by the recoil, was forced into motion by the flow of mana. The essence of the Hamel Style was complete control of every bodily movement through mana. That was why it was fast and powerful. In any situation, in any condition, it could link into another attack.

Genos’s Ten Thousand Thunderbolts descended upon Eugene. Eugene’s eyes missed none of the sword trajectories splitting into dozens. As expected, a technique depended on how it was used. By Eugene’s standards, Genos’s Ten Thousand Thunderbolts was inferior, but Genos’s skill and experience compensated for that inferior technique.

Even so, Eugene could see it. He could see everything. His body slipped backward. For an instant, the wooden sword’s trajectories hung in empty air.

‘Lightning Counter strikes without warning.’

For an instant, Eugene thought just that.

‘No, fuck, not Lightning Counter... That son of a bitch Vermouth has these technique names stuck in my head...!’

Lightning shot forth. Eugene’s counterattack was smoother and subtler than Genos’s had been. Genos judged that he could not deflect the attack driving toward his chest.

‘This is the true Lightning Counter...!’

Genos decided it was wiser to retreat than attempt a forced parry. After narrowly escaping, he sent his wooden sword into a frenzy.

Hamel Style, Fourth Form: Asura’s Frenzied Slaughter. The bewildering sword strikes Moron had likened to an asura swept through the space before him. Eugene tucked his sword arm close to his body and entered the flurry.

A parry. Wooden sword struck wooden sword and slid away. After deflecting a nearby strike, Eugene spun his wooden sword within his hand. Now holding it in a reverse grip, he scraped it along the ground and swung upward.

‘Dragon Burst!’

The Dragon Burst Genos knew involved tightly compressing sword force and detonating it with a slash. Though sword force was not being used in this spar, that form was unmistakably Dragon Burst.

He chose Dead End to counter it. His wooden sword soared high into the air, then fell like a guillotine blade.

BOOM!

It was a sound almost impossible to believe had come from two wooden swords colliding. The mana surrounding them clashed, shaking the ground. Shock spread across the spectators’ faces.

However much Genos was holding back, nineteen-year-old Eugene was meeting him on equal terms.

‘That little monster...!’

Cyan’s mouth fell open. On hearing that Eugene would spar with Genos, he had secretly hoped Eugene would get thoroughly beaten. He had come to watch because he wanted to see it with his own eyes. What on earth was this?

‘If that were me... I’d have hit the ground ages ago. This is impossible... He’s sparring with a captain of the Black Lion Knights, and he isn’t being pushed back at all?’

His throat kept going dry. His fingers twitched of their own accord. Cyan felt an urge to grab a wooden sword right then, jump between them, and fight. Of course, he would not last a moment before collapsing on the ground and retching, but he felt as though he might gain something from it.

‘I’m... weak. I have a long way to go. So what?’

Cyan watched the spar, forgetting even to blink. He could not join their fight, but merely watching with such concentration allowed his mind to absorb Eugene’s and Genos’s techniques little by little.

‘I can’t break through.’

Genos’s shock had given way to admiration. With his strength so heavily restrained, overwhelming Eugene was impossible. Far from overwhelming him, he felt himself being pushed back little by little. Mana Parrying and Lightning Counter had made that abundantly clear. Genos was not confident he could execute those techniques as perfectly as Eugene while limiting his mana.

That proved Eugene’s control over his mana was far superior. Hamel Style, Sixth Form: Cyclone. The rotation woven into the sword twisted Genos’s sword path aside, immediately linking into Asura’s Frenzied Slaughter. Genos retreated step by step, watching for a chance to use Lightning Counter.

He fired his lightning, but the answering bolt was faster than his own.

WHACK!

Though he twisted his body at once, Eugene’s wooden sword skimmed his shoulder as it passed.

“... Incredible...!”

Genos stepped back several paces and shook his head. His mana shield had not been breached. Nevertheless, he acknowledged that continuing would be pointless.

Admitting defeat before so many people was humiliating, both as a knight and as a senior. Yet Genos felt not the slightest shame in conceding. Instead, he admired Eugene and acknowledged him all the more.

He felt that acknowledging Eugene was the same as acknowledging Hamel, the grandmaster he revered. Eugene Lionheart was his senior disciple, and the true inheritor of the Hamel Style.

“I have lost. You truly are extraordinary...!”

He wanted to cry out “Senior!” at the top of his lungs, but with so many eyes upon them, he could not. Genos put down his wooden sword and approached Eugene, then gripped his shoulders tightly, his eyes brimming with tears.

“... Why are you crying?”

“I... have conjunctivitis. Sometimes my eyes water like this.”

Genos looked up at the sky and pulled Eugene into an embrace. It was an uncomfortable gesture... But Genos’s tears seemed so heartfelt that Eugene simply could not push him away.

“... Magnificent.”

Carmen admired the two men’s heartfelt embrace, and Genos’s chivalry in acknowledging defeat at the hands of someone so much his junior. She placed the cigar she held between her lips, even removed her leather gloves, and clapped.

CLAP, CLAP... CLAP, CLAP, CLAP.

As Carmen applauded, everyone watching began to join in. Cyan, who had been staring wide-eyed, clapped fiercely as well, feeling a fervent heat burn in his chest.

‘Eugene... Though you are my adopted son, you will be the pride of Lionheart.’

Gilead was moved as well. When Eugene had said he would go to Samar, Gilead had thought he could never allow it. Thus, when he heard Eugene would spar with Genos over the matter, he had gladly agreed to act as witness and come here.

Deep down, he had hoped Eugene would lose. If necessary, he had resolved to intervene midway and declare Eugene’s defeat. He had intended to protect his son from going somewhere dangerous, even if that was what it took.

But he had not. He could not. Though he had seen Eugene spar with Carmen, this was his first proper look at Eugene’s abilities in years. The Eugene of today was no longer a young lion to be kept close and protected. He had become a fully grown lion, more than ready to leave the pride and strike out on his own.

‘As I thought... I wasn’t wrong.’

Gion, too, was overwhelmed with emotion. He had sparred with Eugene many times, starting back at the main estate. He had taught swordsmanship to Cyan and Ciel, but he had never actually taught Eugene anything.

The boy had already known how to do everything before Gion could teach him. No, that was not all. In spars of this kind, Gion had never once felt that he was overwhelming Eugene.

Now he had no choice but to acknowledge that it had been fact, not merely a feeling. That boy possessed an unbelievable natural instinct for combat. In any situation, he made the right judgment and carried it out with his body.

‘I don’t like her.’

Ciel was clapping, too, but her eyes were directed elsewhere, not at Eugene. Kristina Rogeris. Instead of applauding, she had clasped both hands before her chest and was staring intently at Eugene.

Her eyes held an emotion entirely different from admiration or astonishment at him. Ciel could not work out what that emotion was.

And that was why she did not like Kristina.