Damn Reincarnation

The blade of the Moonlight Sword had been shattered.

Long ago, after Vermouth had completely destroyed it, the specifics of the sword had remained a mystery... but this ominous blade had been passed down to Eugene knowingly or unknowingly. A few years ago, Eugene ventured into the mines of Kazard Hills to gather the blade’s scattered shards.

However, even with all the fragments combined, it was still only half the blade it once was.

‘The blade….’ Eugene looked at the sword with awe.

The noxious miasma exuded by countless corpses of the Nur had accumulated over a century. This malevolent mist mixed with the moonlight, bonding with the blade. Eugene gazed at the ever-elongating blade.

Rampage. That word suddenly popped into Eugene’s mind.

This transformation wasn't taking place by Eugene's intent. In that sense, what was happening with the Moonlight Sword was indeed a rampage. Yet, oddly enough, he felt no imminent danger from this anomaly.

‘They've already merged,’ Eugene thought in amazement.

Eugene's flames and the moonlight had combined. In simple terms, the pervasive, toxic miasma of this world was empowering the Moonlight Sword, restoring its blade without needing any more of its missing fragments.

Yet, with the Moonlight Sword already merged with Eugene’s power, the sword remained under control despite becoming increasingly powerful and complete.

Fwoosh!

The swirling moonlight dissipated. At its core stood Eugene, who slowly lowered the Moonlight Sword he held aloft.

The tip of the elongated blade was unsharpened. It was blunt like a club. However, the Moonlight Sword was never intended to slice or pierce its use.

It didn’t… quite feel the same as before.

What he felt from the Moonlight Sword was even different from when Vermouth had wielded it three hundred years ago. Eugene couldn’t exactly pinpoint the difference, but the blade now just felt different from back then. However, the elongated blade of the sword felt reminiscent of its old self.

"How strange,” Eugene muttered as he tested the Moonlight Sword.

He tried swinging it in different directions. Its dim, ash-gray blade remained unchanged, but a soft moonlight illuminated it when he infused a bit of power.

This was already different from before. The original Moonlight Sword would emit a ferocious moonlight when charged with mana. Now, instead of releasing a fierce, expansive light, it only created a thin layer of coating on the blade, similar to a condensed blade aura.

‘But it's not weaker,’ Eugene realized.

He felt a chill run down his back as he maneuvered the Moonlight Sword. The blade moved very slowly, with the moonlight following its movement. As it moved, the light distorted the space around it. The once erratic moonlight now seemed fully fused and harmonized.

But what was even more surprising was that it wasn’t being fully utilized.

This realization sent shivers down Eugene's arm. Even at this very moment, it felt more daunting and powerful than it was in his battle with Iris, and this wasn't even its maximum output….

Moreover, the current Moonlight Sword harmonized with Eugene's mana.

In a realm of what-ifs, what would happen if one were to overlay the Moonlight Sword with the Empty Sword? What if he forged Eclipse by merging the light of the Moonlight Sword with his flames?

"Ha…." Eugene exhaled loudly.

Truth be told, the extent of its potential power was beyond any measure. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how powerful it might be. Moreover, he dared not test it now for fear of unforeseen consequences.

Eugene sheathed the Moonlight Sword and let out a cough to clear his throat, "Ehem...."

The surroundings were eerily silent. Such was the shock that even breathing seemed too loud. Eugene turned to face Molon while tucking the sheathed Moonlight Sword inside his cloak.

"You should be grateful,” Eugene said.

Molon wasn’t sure what Eugene was talking about.

"Look, I've cleansed… this place. I made it… pristine again,” stammered Eugene.

He spoke the truth. Once warped by Nur's poison, the landscapes had returned to their natural state. Molon blinked in disbelief while taking in the transformed world around him. The land was smooth, mountains no longer sprouted whimsically, the foul stench that filled the air with every breath was gone, and even the bodies of the Nur, strewn everywhere, had vanished.

This change felt nothing short of miraculous to Molon.

The battles with the Nur had raged on for over a century. However, Molon’s madness had not been borne solely from combat.

Many other things had contributed to it as well. Molon had experienced bitter solitude after the battles, and the landscape had been filled only with the corpses of the Nur, a sight he never grew accustomed to. The environment had caused his head to spin and stomach to churn simply by being present. All these things combined had exacerbated Molon’s madness.

The poisonous miasma had been immune to even the most powerful divine magic, and Molon had been left with no choice but to simply endure.

"Heh... Haha…," Molon laughed, a bit unsure.

Disbelief was evident in his eyes as Sienna and Anise quickly approached.

"What did you just do?" asked Sienna.

"Hamel, how did you accomplish this?" Anise chimed in as well.

Questions poured forth, one after another.

From what could be inferred, Eugene had reconstructed the Moonlight Sword. The original Moonlight Sword had been destroyed. The scattered fragments had been imbued with Eugene's flame and, by his will, came together once more to form the blade. This act strengthened his dominion over the Moonlight Sword.

Though Eugene had arrived at a plausible conclusion, he lacked confidence in conveying this intangible process to Sienna and Anise.

Thus, he took on a serious expression and said, "I don't know."

Is that something to boast about? What do you even know? Do you think it’s normal not to know something you’re responsible for? Sienna and Anise took turns playfully smacking Eugene's back. The strikes were fierce to the point of numbing his back, but the two of them refrained from probing further after realizing it wasn’t a grave matter.

"Hahaha! Hahahahaha!"

All the while, Molon was laughing heartily and darting around the snow-covered mountains. He raced to the peak and leaped off a cliff, only to return in the blink of an eye. Then suddenly, he hoisted Eugene up, crying, "Thank you. Thank you, Hamel!"

With that, Eugene found himself tossed into the air and then plummeting down repeatedly.

***

That night, they conversed till the early dawn about Iris' demise, the relics of the Age of Myth they witnessed in the depths of the abyss, the conversation shared with the Demon King of Incarceration, and the Demoneye that now dwelled within Ciel.

"I, too…," Molon began, as his expression from before, which was filled with mirth as he drank like a madman, underwent a transformation.

The pinnacle of Babel, three hundred years ago.

The confrontation with the Demon King of Incarceration.

The battle where Hamel was absent.

They had given it their all. But the result had not been satisfactory. Everyone must have felt so. If only they had fought truly contentedly, without any regrets….

A lingering thought surfaced in Molon's mind, and he gave a bitter smile. Even then, they might not have triumphed over the Demon King of Incarceration. Perhaps they would have poured out everything they had... and still not survived.

"Are you saying that I will be able to fight?" Molon asked after organizing his thoughts.

He was confident. Now, he was far stronger than he had been three hundred years ago. Even if he couldn't beat the Demon King of Incarceration, he wanted to pit his strength, earned through long years of survival, against the enemy. He clenched his fist at the thought of fighting alongside Hamel, unlike the battle three centuries ago.

"What then, were you thinking of just watching from behind, even though you're in full health?" Eugene grumbled as he took another swig of his drink.

To be precise, Molon couldn't have fought in that situation, no matter how much he wanted to. Knowing this, Eugene still teased him. Perhaps he didn't want Molon to be moved to tears so easily.

"I’m going to tell you this beforehand. I might not be able to call you when the time comes,” said Eugene.

"If it's Ciel, she'll be able to do it," countered Molon.

"I told her to do her best but don't put too much pressure on her. If she can't bring you, don't blame Ciel…," Eugene said.

"Blame her? Hamel, even if I can't join that battle, I would never resent her!" Molon responded with a completely serious expression. Eugene had said that in jest, but seeing Molon’s solemn look, Eugene felt somewhat awkward after seeing his response.

"Hamel, I trust you. I trust Sienna. I trust Anise and Kristina. And I believe in the world we have now, thanks to the Oath Vermouth secured. Even if I can't assist you, the world will. Especially my descendants. The warriors of Ruhr will take the lead and assist in your battle,” assured Molon.

"Um... that's what they promised,” responded Eugene.

"I'm certain, Hamel. The people of this era are stronger than those from three hundred years ago. Hence, against the Demon King of Incarceration—" Molon started.

"The demons are also stronger than they were three hundred years ago,” interjected Eugene.

"Even so... I believe in your victory. Of course... if I can join the battle, the chances of victory would rise even more…," Molon stammered, even though it wasn’t as if Ciel was present.

This was because he knew how notoriously wicked and cruel Hamel was. If he gave the wrong answer now, Hamel might just share that reply with Ciel later. Molon didn't want to be despised by a descendant of Vermouth.

"Anyway…." After dawn broke, Eugene rose from his seat. Although he had been drinking till just moments ago, any trace of inebriation vanished with a flick of his mana. After magically cleaning the lingering taste of alcohol from his mouth, he turned to look at Sienna and Anise before saying, “I’ll be back.”

“…Are you really alright venturing alone?” Sienna asked, her lips jutted in concern. “What if something happens to you?”

“More reason for me to go alone. If something happens to me and I can’t return, you can always come looking for me,” said Eugene.

“You saying that makes me want to let you go even less,” complained Sienna.

“I’m not going to venture far. At the latest, I'll return by midday,” Eugene promised.

Eugene had made all preparations. He tucked the tracker device that Sienna had made into his cloak and wore the blessings he got from Anise and Kristina.

He exited Molon’s cave and ascended to the peak of Lehainjar. He had shared the view from that vantage point once before with Molon.

From this summit, the expanse of Raguyaran lay before him.

Nothing seemed different from his previous encounter. That place remained devoid of any special allure or mysterious sentiment. The weather was bleak, sunlight never descended, and life did not thrive. The ground, void of any touch of life, had a thin presence of mana, making magic scarcely effective. It was a land saturated with factors preventing life from flourishing.

That was Raguyaran. Looking further beyond the ground, he could see an imposing glacier. It felt the same to Eugene. It did not seem like a grotesque, scary terrain to be wary of as Vermouth might.

The flames of Prominence surged from behind Eugene. These wings of flame were entirely influenced by Eugene, and as such, they were now composed of black flames.

He hadn't given it much thought when he first conjured it… but seeing the wings transformed into black fire, he couldn’t help but contemplate.

“Would it be better if I changed its appearance…?” Eugene muttered to himself.

No sooner had he murmured this than Kristina shot him a stern look. “No, Sir Eugene, the current look is perfect,” she said.

“What?” asked Eugene.

“It is perfect as it is,” Kristina repeated.

Though their wings bore no resemblance, Kristina cherished the commonality they both held in having wings.

Eugene gave a hesitant nod in response to her assertive words before soaring toward the sky.

“Don’t wait for me here. Go back to the cave,” he said.

But his words were in vain, for no one showed any intention of leaving the peak. He signaled them not to worry with a reassuring wave of his hand, then advanced towards Raguyaran.

—Climb Lehainjar.

—See Raguyaran.

—Beware the End that comes from beyond it.

Although the ambient mana was thin, Eugene could sustain Prominence while flying due to the ample amount of mana he possessed. As the once-distant glacier neared, Eugene took a moment to look back.

The vast expanse of Lehainjar filled the horizon. But though it was visibly close, it felt eerily distant. The silhouettes of the companions he'd left behind were barely discernible. The connection with Sienna, tethered by the tracking device, grew faint, and the protective light of the Saints seemed to dim as well.

"It seems so far," Eugene commented to himself.

He hadn't even reached what one could call the End, and yet the world already felt far away.

With a rueful smile, Eugene drew the Moonlight Sword from his cloak. Perhaps as he approached Raguyaran, the sword might show some response... but nothing happened. The blade neither vibrated of its own accord nor shimmered with moonlight.

‘Should I be disappointed?’ Eugene wasn’t sure.

Instead of sheathing the Moonlight Sword, he slung it on his hip and drew out the Holy Sword Altair. At his will, it illuminated. Eugene hoped for a sign as he held the radiant sword aloft. However, once again, nothing happened.

The land came to an end.

Below him stretched a frozen sea. Around this point, Eugene ceased to fly and descended. The ice, thick as the earth's crust, seemed sturdy enough to hold even a giant.

Might there be something beneath the ice? Perhaps the bottom concealed the cradle of the Nur? These thoughts prompted Eugene to peer intently into the ice's depths.

But there was no sign of the Nur or anything else. Breaking the ice to dive deeper might reveal some unknown world, but he didn't attempt it.

‘Why would I invite trouble? Who knows what might happen.’ Eugene continued with his internal monologue.

How far did one have to go before the sea felt like an actual sea? How much further could he venture?

But he had not come to ascertain such things. His journey to Raguyaran and this distant sea was not to prove that the world was round and that the north and south were connected.

That was a task for future explorers. Eugene's reason for being here was to reflect upon his past lives, particularly the moment when he fell to the Demon King of Destruction.

‘Perhaps…,’ Eugene thought.

In the lost Age of Myths, when all life perished, and seas surged, the Demon King of Incarceration had submerged an entire city into the depths of the sea because of a pact he had with the Demon King of Fury. That stood as a unique incident, while everything else faced complete annihilation.

As the world vanished and the seas rose, he wondered if any land remained afterward. Maybe, perhaps, after the waters claimed everything and new lands formed? Regardless of the specifics, the world had begun anew.

The vast ocean beyond Raguyaran, a realm untouched by the humans of this age, stood as a remnant of the mythical epoch. With this realization, a shadow crept into Eugene's eyes.

Why did such a place remain? Was it intentional or an inevitable consequence? This place was the wreckage of a ruined age. Then, what of Eugene?

He was a phantom of a bygone era. In fact, he now yearned for that era and its knowledge. His consciousness remained narrow, and craving for more. Be it Eugene, Hamel, or Agaroth, distinguishing his true self among them wasn’t of much importance to him. Because his sole aim never changed. And that was to slay the Demon Kings.

Because it was necessary to end the Demon Kings.

And so, his desire to recall Agaroth's final moments was purely for that reason and that reason alone.

‘There's no need to differentiate them,’ Eugene told himself.

Chuckling softly, he placed a hand over his left chest. A sizzle. The moment his fingers made contact, a crimson current sparked.

‘We're connected this way,’ Eugene thought.

Despite having been reborn twice, his divinity hadn't faded.

The Divine Sword emerged from his left chest. This blade, formed from his crimson divine power, shone brighter than when it ended Iris. The reverence and faith towards Eugene, forged by the tales of his epics throughout the continent, lent the blade its brilliance.

Eugene held the Divine Sword upright and grasped it with both hands. He stared intently at the blade's undulating divine power.

Miracles were the deeds of gods.

Then Eugene spoke, "I wish…."

The desires of a god.

The sounds of war echoed in his ears.