Damn Reincarnation

Eugene’s assertion wasn’t baseless. It was true that he didn’t have sufficient evidence for absolute certainty, yet he could not sense “Vermouth” in the Vermouth he saw portrayed in the projection.

The relentless pressure Vermouth put on Sienna, his attacks, his movements, all of it had overwhelmed Sienna, yet Eugene could not sense the Vermouth he remembered from three hundred years ago.

And Eugene couldn't help but put great trust in his own perception. Hamel, who had fought closest to Vermouth three centuries ago, was the only one among his companions who had repeatedly engaged Vermouth in combat.

“Right?” said Sienna, turning to Eugene with a bright expression.

“I believe it was Sir Vermouth at the end….” Anise gave a slight nod in agreement.

“Initially, he intended to kill her,” said Eugene.

The battle had been one-sided from the moment Vermouth lured Sienna and confronted her in the corridor. He had manipulated Sienna’s actions by throwing Hamel’s corpse and persistently aiming for her neck.

When Sienna made the decision to flee with the corpse and returned to the corridor, Vermouth had been lurking behind her and could have easily killed Sienna if he wanted to. He could have chosen to crush her skull or slit her throat.

However, Vermouth did not do any of those things. During the battle, he persistently aimed for her vital points. However, when he was presented with the opportunity to kill her with certainty, he merely pierced through her body.

“Well…. Technically speaking, a person usually dies when their chest is pierced,” muttered Sienna.

“Yes. If the heart bursts, one dies,” Anise concurred.

Eugene nodded as well while coughing awkwardly.

“Well, that is true, but if he truly wanted to kill her, he had other surefire methods. Look at the end. Vermouth reached out to your neck, Sienna, but… he didn’t snap it or strangle you. He just tore off your necklace,” said Eugene.

Vermouth’s following actions also seemed strange. Vermouth had flung Sienna’s body into the room. There had been no reason he could not move, but he had left Sienna to escape using the World Tree's leaf.

He had trembling shoulders, a twisted expression, and quivering eyes.

Eugene had seen Vermouth when he wore that expression. After seeing Vermouth's final expression, Eugene understood Sienna’s words — that it had felt like Vermouth, but also not Vermouth.

“Did he grow old and get dementia?” grumbled Eugene with a scowl.

Anise scoffed and shook her head before saying, “People older than him have not developed dementia, so there’s no way Sir Vermouth would have.”

“Oi, are you referring to me?” Sienna immediately reacted, turning her head.

But Anise shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t project your baseless speculations onto me and bare your fangs, Sienna. Why would I talk about you in such a way?”

“Don’t lie! You were talking about me!” shouted Sienna.

“No, I wasn’t. What? Did it hit a nerve?” mocked Anise.

“Why are you two fighting again?” asked Eugene after releasing a deep sigh.

“Because Sienna keeps picking fights with me,” Anise complained immediately.

“When did I ever!?”

"Engaging in needless dispute then denying the act is not a display of maturity.”

Eugene grappled with his growing headache. To his sides sat Sienna and Anise, locked in a petty squabble. Eugene steadied himself, standing tall as a barrier to prevent them from tugging each other's hair.

"As for certain, we don't know much, but it's clear that Vermouth has not died," he said, recounting his encounter with Molon to Sienna. The fact that Molon still lived did not seem to surprise Sienna. She nodded in acceptance right away.

“That imbecile would never die of old age,” she muttered.

Though her expression progressively worsened as the story unfolded.

Though he was pushed to the brink of insanity, Molon was heeding the request of Vermouth from his dream. Even at this moment, Molon stood at the chilly frontier of the North, warding off an indescribable beast known as the Nur. He had done so every day for one hundred and fifty relentless years.

“…I wondered why he had not returned if he wasn’t dead,” Sienna mumbled under her breath while sniffling.

The Molon she remembered was a fool of a man, never screaming in pain, charging forward even when his limbs flew. He may have been simpler and more obtuse than Hamel, but it was because Molon always blazed the trail that everyone else could follow.

She could not believe that such a man was driven to madness by unending solitude and burden, that he'd been self-flagellating in a world void of all but his thoughts.

“It’s not so bad that you should cry. A good thrashing straightened him out,” Eugene interjected.

“Wasn’t it the opposite? Hamel, weren’t you the one who was given a proper beating,” said Anise.

“To be precise, both Molon and I were merrily beating each other,” Eugene corrected in all seriousness.

“Molon did not even shed a single drop of blood,” retorted Anise.

“If I had a proper weapon with me, then what do you think would have happened? If I had even a worthless iron sword, Molon wouldn’t simply have gotten a nosebleed. He would have lost an arm,” Eugene stubbornly replied while folding his arms. “I simply didn’t want to make my old comrade a cripple. And at that time, I needed to take some hits from Molon. By getting the opportunity to exchange blows with me, Molon could shed some of his madness, relieve some stress—”

“Yes, yes. I understand. Please, Hamel, stop there,” Anise interrupted with a sigh while glancing at Eugene with ridicule.

Sienna had been listening to the conversation. She chuckled in response as she wiped away her tears.

“So he is no longer alone then,” said Sienna.

Eugene and Anise stopped their bickering and focused on Sienna.

“I can understand how Molon was feeling. Hamel, you died like an idiot. Vermouth was dead, Anise was dead, and I, the only one who was somewhat alive, disappeared into seclusion. While Molon was left alone in the world,” continued Sienna.

The only thing that kept Molon standing had been Vermouth’s request. Sienna wiped away all her tears before closing her eyes.

“I don’t know what the Nur is. A legend from the northern tribes? There’s no way I could know. So I’ll have to see it for myself next time. I’ll say hi to Molon as well,” said Sienna.

“I told Molon that I would bring Vermouth with me,” Eugene murmured with a smirk. “We’ll drag that bastard by the scruff of his neck when the time comes. But we should meet Molon together before that, Sienna. It’s quite a distance, though.”

It was impossible to ascertain why Vermouth ended up the way he did. All Eugene, Sienna, and Anise could do was make vague guesses.

“We don’t even know the contents of the Oath — the promise Vermouth made with Incarceration.”

Five became four after Hamel’s death. However, retreating had not been an option. Once inside, escaping the Demon King of Incarceration’s castle was impossible.

So they had vanquished the demonic monsters and the demonfolks blocking their way. Vermouth’s sword had been imbued with an intensity not seen in any of their previous battles. Molon rampaged while roaring in his grief, a wailing echo that shook the halls of the castle. Anise’s back had been drenched with sweat as she fervently chanted prayers. Sienna had raised her staff while crying, her voice so hoarse with sorrow that she could barely speak.

Higher and higher they climbed until they reached the zenith of the castle of the Demon King of Incarceration, the highest floor of Babel.

They had swiftly defeated the Blade, who blocked the entrance. Afterward, they busted down the door before charging into the court.

Sienna grumbled with a scowl, “It’s impossible to extract the memories from then like we just did.”

They had already tried multiple times in the past, aiming to understand who the Demon King of Incarceration was, how he had dominated the battlefield, and why they had been doomed to defeat. They wished to scrutinize everything from the start to the end, but it had proven impossible.

They had an inkling of the cause. When they had engaged in battle, the Demon King of Incarceration’s iron chains had occupied the space. The chains had interfered with Sienna’s magic and Anise’s divine power. The chains, like the moniker of the Demon King, had claimed the entire battlefield and disrupted their powers.

Even now, hundreds of years later, the chains bound Sienna’s memory, preventing her from visualizing what they had witnessed and experienced with magic.

“The battle was one-sided,” she continued, her voice barely a whisper. “With the Demon King’s chains binding us, Anise and I could not fight properly. The space, which was sealed off by the chains, seemed to exist solely for the Demon King. I couldn’t unleash my magic freely, and Anise’s divine power was robbed of its usual radiant light.”

Anise’s weakened divine power meant that she could not heal Molon as she typically would. Thus, Molon had been unable to fight as recklessly as he had against the other Demon Kings.

“In the natural course of things, all of us should have perished inside Babel,” said Sienna.

“That is, had Vermouth not made his pact,” Anise interjected.

The specifics of the promise remained a mystery, but the Demon King of Incarceration had withdrawn as a result. This allowed Sienna, Anise, and Molon to escape Babel with their lives while even reclaiming Hamel’s body and soul.

With that, peace was restored. The Demon King of Incarceration no longer encroached on the continent, and the demons, monsters, and dark wizards that once ravaged the lands retreated to Helmuth. Even the Demon King of Destruction, who had roamed Helmuth, returned to his domain, Ravesta, and thus stayed silent for hundreds of years.

“Judging by that, the Demon King of Incarceration only suffered losses. He spared those he could have killed and returned your body and soul, which he had captured. He even ended a war that had spanned decades. His act of transforming Helmuth into an empire? Had he simply continued the war, the entire continent would have been his territory,” said Sienna.

“Vermouth,” Eugene uttered the name softly. “Perhaps Vermouth offered himself as the price for the Oath.”

“That’s the only explanation that comes to mind right away. If Vermouth became a slave to the Demon King of Incarceration…. Well, that would somewhat explain everything,” Sienna answered.

“Somewhat, indeed,” commented Anise.

Then they all fell silent. Even if their speculation were true, there were still many questions that were left unanswered.

The Demon King of Incarceration knew many things. He knew that Eugene was Hamel’s reincarnation and that Anise resided within Kristina. In addition, he was seemingly aware of Molon’s current situation as well. It was also possible that he knew Sienna had been kept alive, sealed away in the World Tree.

Despite knowing all this, the Demon King of Incarceration remained inactive. Was it possible that he had only pretended to be a pacifist on the surface while sabotaging them from behind the scenes? Had he used Vermouth? There was no need for him to do so.

After all, Vermouth had planned to resurrect Hamel from the start.

Yet, Vermouth had “died” before he could implement his plan. At least, that’s what the world was told.

Afterward, the Demon King of Incarceration manipulated Vermouth into inflicting a fatal blow to Sienna. It was clear that her death had been intended, but Vermouth had regained control of himself and stopped himself from delivering the killing blow.

Before striking Sienna, Vermouth had sealed the Moonlight Sword’s hilt in Hamel’s grave. After wounding Sienna, he stole the necklace in which Hamel’s soul was sealed before hiding it in the Lionheart’s treasure vault to prepare for Hamel’s reincarnation.

Decades later, he appeared in Molon’s dreams to deliver a warning about the Nur.

It was all extremely puzzling. Vermouth’s actions were mysterious and chaotic, even if the Demon King of Incarceration was actually involved.

“There’s no doubt. That bastard Vermouth’s lost his marbles,” Eugene declared stubbornly.

No sane person would do such things. Vermouth was likely, or rather, undoubtedly alive, but his mind seemed to be swinging wildly. Whether this was due to his pact with the Demon King of Incarceration or something else, one thing was clear — Vermouth was still alive.

“We just need to give him a good beating,” said Anise.

As long as he was alive, there were things they could try. If he was dead, there would be nothing they could do, but since he was alive, they could at least make an attempt.

“If we punch a hole in his chest, he might regain his senses from the pain,” Eugene suggested.

There was no way Vermouth could be of sound mind if he was pulling stunts like this. Eugene, Sienna, and Anise all believed so. Vermouth from their memories would never do things without reason. The man that the world revered as the Great Vermouth was just Vermouth to them.

“Once we reach the Demon King’s castle, Babel, we might find some answers,” Eugene said with a bitter laugh.

—Just as I did, stand before the Demon King of Incarceration and meet with his true body. The Demon King of Incarceration will not let you climb Babel in peace since that’s the kind of being he is.

It was what Vermouth had said in the Dark Room.

—What will happen after that are things you will have to experience yourself.

‘Although I still think it’s nonsense.’

Regardless, they had to climb Babel to kill the Demon King of Incarceration and to learn more about Vermouth.

Sienna nodded after hearing Eugene’s story about the Dark Room.

“Vermouth was obsessed with you,” she said with a bitter smile. “Hamel Dynas. Three hundred years ago, before we met you…. You were just a somewhat famous mercenary. That time, I didn’t understand when Vermouth insisted on having you join us.”

“I’m sure. I didn’t understand it either,” responded Eugene.

“But eventually, I started to think that Vermouth was right. You, who were the weakest among us, became strong enough to stand by Vermouth’s side within a few years…. If Vermouth decided to resurrect you, there must have been a reason for it,” continued Sienna.

“Truth be told, I was the only viable option,” Eugene grumbled with a snort. “Sienna, you were still alive, and so was Molon. Anise turned into an angel. I was the only one who died quietly and had my soul sealed….”

“Are you trying to brag about that?” questioned Anise.

“That’s right, you bastard. Are you proud that you died like a stupid fool?” Sienna chimed in as well.

“Can we not talk about the time I died, please? After being reincarnated, I did come to realize that my death was rather idiotic,” Eugene mumbled.

“It would have been nice if you had realized that when you were still alive,” said Sienna.

“But I suppose we should be relieved. If Hamel’s soul had fully ascended, reincarnation would have been much more difficult,” Anise interjected, a sly smile playing on her lips as she glanced at Sienna. “Now that we’re on the subject, Sienna, when you decided to seal Hamel’s soul in a necklace instead of allowing him to ascend to heaven… I honestly thought, despite our grief, that it was a bit too much.”

“What, what, what about it!? Huh? Anise, you agreed to it, too! I-it wasn’t just me! Huh? None of you wanted Eugene to be reborn in a world with the Demon Kings, did you?” retorted Sienna.

“Well, yes, but after thinking it over several times, I felt that you wearing the necklace containing his sealed soul constantly was a bit… excessive. Especially as a woman of faith—”

“What, what then! What else would I do with a necklace except hang it around my neck?” Sienna questioned.

“There were other methods, surely. The soul could have been sealed anywhere.”

“My neck was the safest place.”

“You really only kept it around your neck?”

“You hang a necklace around your neck. What else would I have done with it?” Sienna asked while turning her head.

Anise peered at Sienna’s face, her eyes narrowing into a questioning gaze. “For example, rubbing it against your face and calling out Hamel’s name when you felt overwhelmed by your emotions….”

“W-what are you saying!?”

“My ears really hurt from the two of you screaming like this,” Eugene, no longer able to bear the racket, slowly rose from his seat. “Weren’t you going to drink together? Shouldn’t you get to it?”

“This is my room,” answered Anise.

“Ah…. Right. Well, have fun. I’m off to my room to sleep.” With those words, Eugene turned his gaze towards Mer, who was sitting on the bed.

Mer gave a firm shake of her head. “I will be attending to Lady Sienna with drinks here.”

Raimira quickly jumped down from the bed at Mer’s words. She was somewhat scared of Sienna from the earlier fight when she had been fighting and pulling out Eugene’s hair.

“I guess I have no choice. This Lady will go with the benefactor—”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Anise called out before Raimira could finish her sentence.

“That one there, she’s Raizakia’s daughter, right? I have a bit of a score to settle with your dad. Ah, but don’t worry. It’s nothing to be scared of.”

Raimira began to tremble after being singled out by Sienna. She looked at Eugene with pleading eyes, but he was already halfway out of the room.

‘If I stay in there any longer, I’m really going to lose all my hair.’

Even if his hair would regrow one day, he had no desire to go bald either.