Chapter 91 - Damn Reincarnation

Samar

The fifth-ranked Demon King of Carnage wielded Jigollas, the Crushing Hammer.

The fourth-ranked Demon King of Cruelty possessed Ruinthos, the Demonic Spear.

The third-ranked Demon King of Fury had no particular weapon.

Instead, the Demon King of Fury commanded a vast army. Its ranks contained an unusually high proportion of other races. The giants, led by Kamash, formed the vanguard of Fury’s army. Beastfolk and elves also served in it, as did creatures transformed from humans, such as vampires and lycanthropes.

The four strongest among them were called Fury’s Four Heavenly Kings.

The chieftain of the giants, Kamash the Earthshaker.

The Vampire Lord, Sign of Bloodshed.

The madman of the beastfolk, Oboron the Maleficent.

The dark elf princess, Iris the Rakshasa.

Three hundred years ago, Hamel had killed Kamash alongside Vermouth.

After that, they killed the Demon Kings of Carnage and Cruelty. Riding that momentum, they advanced toward Fury’s castle, only to be ambushed by vampires led by Sign of Bloodshed.

They killed Sign in that battle. Vampires were notoriously difficult to kill, but Anise’s divine power and Vermouth’s Holy Sword eventually burned his body to ashes.

At Fury’s castle, beastfolk and dark elves attacked them.

Oboron and Iris. Rather than dying as Sign had, the two retreated to Fury’s throne room and regrouped.

It was a horrific battle.

Both Oboron and Iris were strong. Needless to say, the Demon King of Fury was strong as well.

But in the end, they brought them down.

While Vermouth fought the Demon King of Fury, Moron faced Oboron.

Hamel’s opponent was Iris.

["Father!"]

That desperate cry still rang vividly in his ears. As Fury fell, the blood-drenched Iris screamed and rushed toward him.

Hamel had no intention of letting Iris go. The dark elf was strong and difficult to fight. Even if she reached Fury, she could not change his death, but regardless, Hamel intended to kill her.

In short, he failed. For some reason, the dying Fury used his remaining strength not to counterattack or revive himself, but to let Oboron and Iris escape.

No one there had expected the Demon King of Fury to do such a thing. Senya’s magic failed to prevent Oboron and Iris from escaping. Even Vermouth had looked momentarily startled by Fury’s actions.

["I’ll kill you. I’ll kill every last one of you. You... all of you...! F-Father...!"]

Space split wide open, forming a doorway, and Fury’s darkness enveloped Iris and Oboron. Iris tried to lunge at them in a frenzy, but Oboron, now missing an arm, held her back.

["Hamel, you... You stopped me...!"]

["Fucking bullshit. So what if I stopped you?"]

Hamel sneered at Iris’s resentment. The situation, in which Iris was slipping away after he had all but killed her, was absurd. So was Iris blaming him more than Vermouth, who had driven a sword into Fury’s chest. Every bit of it was ridiculous.

In any case, that was how the Demon King of Fury died. Iris and Oboron escaped, and the dark elves and beastfolk scattered.

Now, three hundred years later...

The vampires and lycanthropes who had lost their lord had entered the service of Noir Giabella, queen of the dream demons.

The giants had banded together into tribes in Helmuth’s rugged mountains.

Oboron had sought shelter under the Demon King of Destruction, but around a hundred and fifty years ago, his own son had torn out his throat and killed him.

As for Iris...

'I never ran into her after that.'

Despite glaring at him with venomous eyes and spitting curses that she would kill him, she had never crossed his path again.

'I should have killed her then.'

Like elves, dark elves lived long lives. Their lifespans easily exceeded a thousand years. In the first place, elves and dark elves were not different races.

An elf became a dark elf upon being corrupted by a Demon King and accepting demonic energy.

'Father, my ass.'

Even now, after reincarnating, he could not quite understand that moment.

The Demon King of Fury had adopted all Four Heavenly Kings as his children. Kamash, who had been as enormous as a mountain, was Fury’s eldest son. Just before dying, Kamash had called out for his “father.”

An absurd game of playing family. He had thought it was merely a tool to inspire a pathetic sense of attachment and loyalty by binding people who shared no blood under the label of “family.”

Yet at the moment of his death, Fury had allowed his “daughter” Iris and his “son” Oboron to escape.

Why? If he had that much strength left, he could have blown himself up instead. Even that would not have killed Vermouth, but wasn’t that a more fitting way for a Demon King to act?

'At least Oboron’s dead... But the son who bit him to death must be one hell of a lunatic, too.'

The beastfolk themselves were divided into several races. Three hundred years ago, Oboron had been so deranged that even the beastfolk called him a madman. Apparently, the son he had sired was just as crazy as his father.

Eugene had no choice but to remain wary of Oboron’s son and Iris.

The Great Forest of Samar. In some ways, this place was more dangerous than Helmuth. It did not teem with as many demons as Helmuth, nor was a Demon King nearby, but Samar had plenty of rotten scum.

Unlike other countries, identification documents were not accepted here.

Vicious criminals who could no longer live in countries or cities. Those who had not been left to rot in prison or executed. Whether they had escaped prison or evaded capture, those sorts ultimately drifted into either Helmuth or Samar.

Of course, Samar had “laws” of its own. But those laws were so far removed from those of an ordinary nation that Samar was called a lawless land.

Its natives were savage, and every tribe followed different laws. In an ordinary country, murder was a “crime.” That was not necessarily true in Samar. Murder could be forgiven for the most trivial reasons, and some savage tribes even recognized motiveless murder as an act of valor.

“Missionary work in Samar? I’d say that’s a fairly popular way to commit suicide.”

A brown-skinned man surveyed Eugene and Kristina through narrowed eyes.

As Kristina had said, they had no trouble passing through Kiel’s southern gateway with their forged identification.

The problem came afterward. Despite being larger than Kiel’s territory, Samar had no publicly accessible warp gates.

Apparently, they had been installed, but only a select few recognized by the great tribes could use them. Foreign nobles could offer all the money they wanted and still would not be allowed to use Samar’s warp gates.

In other words, once past the gateway, they had no choice but to travel by carriage or horseback. After several days of travel, they reached the trading town nearest the gateway.

It might have been called a trading town, but it could not compare to the cities of Kiel or Aroth. There were no tall buildings, and the roads were filthy.

“Surely our reason isn’t what matters?”

Kristina smiled brightly and offered her identification. The man, however, let out a hearty laugh and turned it over.

“Let’s see... A D-rank adventurer. So what?”

“... Isn’t this inn affiliated with the Adventurers’ Guild? I would like to be treated appropriately for my rank.”

“Hah! Sister, are you pretending to be naive, or are you genuinely naive? We may be close to Kiel, but this is still a town in Samar. Identification, adventurer ranks—none of that means a thing here.”

The innkeeper chuckled and pushed her identification back.

“Treated appropriately for your rank? That’s the funniest joke I’ve heard lately. Sister, listen... This is Samar. Yes, this inn is affiliated with the Adventurers’ Guild, but it’s the same no matter which guild you visit. The identification of the bastards who drift all the way here isn’t trustworthy... Ah, stop. That’s not it.”

“What’s not it?”

Eugene frowned as he asked.

“Money. Money isn’t it. Don’t take any out. It’s no use. Do you two really know nothing about Samar? We don’t use the common currency here. What we use here is...”

“I know, too, so don’t interrupt me for no reason. Unless you want to die.”

Smiling, Eugene leaned close against the table. Sitting across from him, the innkeeper was briefly taken aback by the sudden change in his attitude.

“You ill-mannered little shit...”

The innkeeper’s expression twisted as he placed a finger on the buzzer beneath the table. A light press would bring the mercenaries upstairs down to him. But he could not press it.

A dagger thrust beneath the table touched his finger.

“Now, now. No need to rush.”

“... You little bastard... What do you think you’re doing?”

“Why don’t you hear me out first?”

Eugene took a small gemstone from his cloak and placed it on the table. It was one of the gems he had received from the emir of Kajitan. The innkeeper’s eyes widened at the sight.

“You don’t use the common currency, but you do use gems, don’t you? Everyone likes things that sparkle.”

“...”

“Now, mister. From here on, don’t interrupt me. Just answer my questions. And don’t judge what I say by how I look. You’ve spent a fair amount of time making your living with a blade, haven’t you? Right?”

The innkeeper’s face gradually stiffened. He felt the sharpness of the dagger against his finger, and the way it had thrust in without any warning put him on his guard. That was not all. The killing intent coming from the boy before him, who had yet to lose all traces of childishness, was anything but ordinary.

'Only at me...'

The killing intent was focused solely on the innkeeper, with none wasted elsewhere. A former mercenary, he recognized that Eugene was far more dangerous than he looked.

“One gem this size pays for a room.”

“...”

“There are two of us, so two rooms.”

Eugene took out another gemstone and placed it on the table.

“I’m sure there are better inns, but, well, I chose this one for convenience. Know what I mean?”

“... Information?”

“You catch on fast. The Adventurers’ Guild must have ties to the Mercenaries’ Guild and the Information Guild, right? And you also run lodging for adventurers.”

“... Are you bounty hunters?”

The innkeeper asked hesitantly. As far as he knew, only bounty hunters demanded information while giving off such finely honed killing intent.

“Maybe we are. Like my stupid companion said, our purpose isn’t what matters, is it? I have lots of gems, and you like gems. Right?”

“... Hmm...”

“Let me warn you now. If you try robbing me because I look like an easy mark... you’ll all fucking die. Really. I hope all those years you’ve spent living and fighting have taught you some sense. What do you think, mister? Think you can kill me and search my pockets?”

“... I... don’t think I can.”

The killing intent grew steadily stronger. The innkeeper’s breathing quickened, and cold sweat streamed down his body.

“I’m looking for an elf.”

Eugene reached inside his cloak again. This time, he brought out a gemstone several times larger than the first. Greed surfaced in the innkeeper’s eyes at the sight. The desire that enormous gem inspired outweighed his fear of the killing intent.

“Not a dark elf. An ordinary elf. From what I hear, elves come through this town now and then... Any one of them will do.”

“... You don’t seem to know much about the going rate.”

The innkeeper cleared his throat and continued.

“Information on elves costs at least three gems that size. I don’t know why you’re looking for an elf... but surely you know how many wealthy people and nobles want to keep one?”

“The way you’re talking, you must have information on elves, then?”

“... I’ll take that gem as payment for connecting you with an information broker. You can settle the rest directly with the broker...”

Eugene grinned, baring his teeth.

“You fucking bastard. Trying to split the take, are you?”

Eugene’s hand shot out and seized the innkeeper by the throat.

“Ghk!”

“You can scream louder than that.”

Eugene pressed the buzzer beneath the table for him. Immediately, burly mercenaries came charging down the stairs.

“Sir Eugene?”

Kristina looked at Eugene in bewilderment. He responded with an incredulous laugh.

“What are you waiting for? Draw your wand. Aren’t you going to stop those bastards?”

“What are you two?!”

“A man and a woman, you son of a bitch.”

CRACK!

Eugene caught the innkeeper’s finger and bent it backward. For a moment, the mercenaries looked dumbfounded by his brazen answer. Then they drew their weapons and charged. Rather than dealing with them himself, Eugene glared at Kristina.

Kristina let out a short sigh and raised a hand before her chest. Light burst from her, becoming a long whip that swept through the area.

“Ah!”

The mercenaries cried out in surprise. Instead of lashing them, the whip of light tightly bound their arms and legs. Only then did Eugene grin and turn back to the innkeeper.

“Kristina. What did you say this bastard’s name was?”

“... Jackson.”

“What a painfully common name. Hey, Jackson. I just told you, didn’t I? Why I came to this inn instead of another one. Convenience.”

CRACK...!

Jackson’s finger bent a little farther. He writhed and tried to scream, but Eugene’s hand did not release his throat.

“I came here because I knew you were an information broker. But what’s this? You’ll charge me a referral fee and connect me with a broker? I have to pay the broker separately? You fucker, who do you think you’re trying to rip off?”

“Ghh... Ghrr...!”

“I didn’t want to make a scene, so I was going to pay and keep this transaction nice and clean. But you’re too much of a rotten bastard for that. Let’s see... Right. The Information Guild has its own laws, doesn’t it? I doubt those laws are different just because we’re in Samar. Pull a dirty trick and you lose a finger, right?”

“Th-that law was abolished a long time ago...”

“When, you fucker? Three hundred years ago? What’s the law now, then? Pulling out fingernails? I’m not a member of the Information Guild, so I don’t have to follow it, right? Since you’ve been a shithead, I can be a shithead too, can’t I?”

Eugene glared at Jackson with wide eyes. He released the finger he had been holding beneath the table and drove his dagger into the tabletop.

“Choose, you son of a bitch. Which finger should I cut off? Right hand? Left hand? I’ll compromise a little and spare the hand you use most. You’re right-handed, aren’t you? So, the left. Losing your index finger would make everyday life difficult, right? Then I’ll cut off your middle finger. Probably better than the index finger. You’ll never be able to flip anyone off with your left hand again, but that’s a cheap price for trying to pull that shit.”

Kristina had told him that the innkeeper’s name was Jackson and that he was an information broker belonging to the Information Guild.

Originally, Eugene had intended to pay a reasonable price for the information he needed, but plans inevitably changed with circumstances. Kristina did not understand his sudden actions, but by Eugene’s reckoning, making a scene and putting someone in their place was better than being treated like a sucker.

“Now, relax. Spread your left hand wide so I can cut it easily. Don’t want to? Then I’ll add another. How about your middle and ring fingers?”

“I-if you threaten me, the Information Guild...”

“Now this bastard’s threatening me, too.”

Eugene brought the dagger down hard, severing Jackson’s middle finger. Jackson tried to scream, but Eugene clamped a hand over his mouth to stop him.

“If I were scared of that, would I be holding you by the throat and telling you I’m going to cut off your fingers?”

Eugene spat the words as he stared into Jackson’s trembling eyes.

“Think carefully. Losing one finger is inconvenient, but you can live with it. For now, I’ll let you off with just one. Oh, don’t worry. If your information is reliable, I’ll give you the gem, too.”

How had it come to this? Pain and terror muddled Jackson’s thoughts. Only moments ago, things had not been like this. Just two nobodies who had wandered in knowing nothing. Their talk of the Information Guild and elves had surprised him, but whatever had brought them to Samar was none of his concern.

He had merely planned to pocket a referral fee and connect them with a suitable information broker. Yet now, out of nowhere, his innocent finger had been cut off...

“And if you don’t like that? Nothing I can do, then. The Information Guild is one thing, but first I’ll have to kill you here for treating me like shit and making this a hassle. I’ll kill all those tied-up mercenaries, too. What happens afterward? That’s not something your dead ass needs to worry about. Right?”

As he spoke, Eugene removed the hand covering Jackson’s mouth.

“But listen. I really hope you’ll think this through. If I’ve come all the way here and I’m acting this recklessly... doesn’t that suggest I have something I can count on?”

“... Wh-who... exactly are you, sir?”

“None of your business. Tell me what you know about elves.”

Eugene nudged the dagger, pushing aside the finger lying on the table.

“A-at least stop the bleeding... Please...”

Jackson stammered, and Kristina started toward him. But Eugene moved first, his hand closing around Jackson’s finger stump.

“Ghh...!”

“Stay still. I’ll stop the bleeding.”

Eugene’s method of stopping the bleeding was brutally crude. He simply squeezed the severed finger stump hard enough to make the blood stop. Trembling, Jackson stared at his own hand. He feared that Eugene’s blood-soaked hand might break or tear off another finger.

“Talk.”

Eugene sat down in his chair with a perfectly calm expression.