Damn Reincarnation

The memory of their first meeting surfaced in Eugene’s mind. After Vermouth had abruptly asked him to become comrades, Eugene had challenged him to test his skills — and lost miserably. He was defeated so thoroughly that he could find no excuses to make. It was an overwhelming loss. Barely, just barely, he had managed to nick Vermouth's collar, and for that, he had ended up face-first in the dirt.

“I have….”

It wasn't just that one time, either.

“I’ve never beaten Vermouth. Not even once,” Eugene said.

After becoming Vermouth's comrade, in the beginning, Eugene would pick fights and challenge him to duels whenever he got the chance.

He didn’t ask to duel with Vermouth because he could win. Rather, he asked for a duel simply because he wanted to duel. Logically, he knew he would lose. He had come to a realization after becoming Vermouth’s comrade and fighting together with him. Even if he didn’t want to, he couldn’t help but realize it: that Vermouth was strong.

Vermouth was so strong that Eugene, who had never considered himself inferior to anyone in combat, had to admit that the difference between them was like night and day. No matter how much he trained or gained experience, the gap between him and Vermouth did not seem to narrow.

“Looking back, it makes sense that I never won. That bastard Vermouth had too many tricks up his sleeve,” Eugene grumbled.

“The way you are complaining, everyone might think you had nothing up yours,” Sienna said while raising a finger. A sparkling light enveloped her, cleaning her tattered robe and washing the blood and sweat from her body.

Sienna cleared her throat and waggled her finger as Eugene shot her a pointed look.

“That's right. Molon and I were the only ones who could boldly say that we had nothing hidden in our back pockets,” Anise said with a smirk. Now clean and fresh, she felt content.

“What? Why me!? I had nothing either,” Sienna complained.

“Nothing? Really? The Sage of the World Tree said it, Sienna. You were favored by mana and magic, which is how you were led to the great forest,” Anise responded.

“That doesn’t mean I was some fool who had a dazzling past life!” retorted Sienna.

“Yes, you are different from an idiot who lived a brilliant previous life yet died a fool. But coming back to the topic, it’s true that your back pockets were always full, right?” Anise said as she casually lay down.

“That…. What about you? You’re the same!” Sienna shot back.

“My goodness!” Anise exclaimed. Still lying down, she gasped and threw her arms up toward the ceiling. “You really are cruel, Sienna! You know the terrible tragedy of my birth. How could you say that?”

“Ah…. No.… That’s not what I meant,” Sienna mumbled, sounding flustered.

Anise wailed, “You know I didn’t choose to be born this way! My goodness, my goodness…. Unlike you, who was born under the grace of magic, my birth was marred with hideous fanaticism and blood….”

She flailed her arms toward the ceiling, her voice filled with distress. As her cries continued, sweat began to bead on Sienna's forehead.

“I’m… sorry… I misspoke…” Sienna whispered.

“Your voice is too quiet,” Anise commented.

Once again, Sienna lost to Anise. She timidly approached Anise, gently took her shoulders, and shook her softly.

"I'm sorry...! It was my fault…," she apologized sincerely.

"Well, since you apologize like that, I guess I have no choice but to find forgiveness in my generous heart,” Anise replied with a small smile.

Obviously, Anise wasn't really angry or sad. She was just exploiting Sienna's guilt. Anise had always been adept at leveraging her unfortunate past to her advantage. And despite knowing full well she would do such a thing, there was no way to win an argument with her.

"I had nothing either,” Molon declared in a firm voice.

He had been lying prone, listening to the conversation. He slowly lifted his head, saying, "I was truly born with nothing. And my homeland, the snowy plains, was a harsh land that truly had nothing."

"The great forest was the same,” Sienna retorted.

"It's different. Sienna, didn’t you grow up with the kind elves?" questioned Molon.

"Do you think the great forest had only elves? There were plenty of monsters and natives, too. Do you know how many cannibals were there three hundred years ago...?!" Sienna snapped back.

"So, Sienna, did you grow up with monsters and cannibals?" Molon's question was sharp despite having just come back from the brink of death.

"That's... well, no, but," Sienna faltered.

"Not all wilds are the same, Sienna. I grew up braving blizzards every day, hunting monsters." Molon reminisced about the past while slowly nodding.

Tired of watching this pointless conversation, Eugene flopped down on Molon's back and grumbled, "What are you guys even arguing about?"

"You were raised in an inland city. You wouldn’t understand,” Anise responded.

"You’re from the inland too,” Eugene pointed out.

"I spent most of my youth confined to a monastery, and I had no parents,” Anise replied calmly.

"Who among us did? And what city! My hometown was a backwater village in Turas. Do you know how many monsters were in the forest right next to the village? Kids getting eaten by goblins or orcs was just a part of daily life there,” Eugene responded, then slapped Molon on the shoulder. "Hey, are you feeling alright?"

"It hurts, but I can bear it," said Molon.

"Bastard, why did you do something that nobody asked for? I would have dodged it myself,” Eugene rebuked.

"Hamel. Even if you hadn’t intervened, Vermouth would have dodged it himself,” Molon retorted.

Eugene was at a loss for words. Had Molon become smarter after coming back from the brink of death?

"Uh... well... anyway, thanks," Eugene mumbled.

Knowing that getting angry would only lead to more teasing, Eugene ended the conversation with words of gratitude.

"Though I was lying down, I heard everything,” said Molon.

"You’re lying. You were knocked out. How could you have heard anything?" questioned Eugene.

"I wasn't knocked out. I was just resting with my eyes closed,” Molon explained.

"Oh, is that so?" Eugene said, sounding unconvinced.

"Vermouth. Can we beat him?" Molon asked.

At that question, Sienna and Anise looked at Eugene. He didn't answer immediately but scratched his chin and pondered for a moment.

"If it were the Vermouth from three hundred years ago, I think I could beat him with just one finger," muttered Eugene.

"The Vermouth we know now is not the same,” Molon reminded Eugene.

"That's right. It seems even the Demon King of Incarceration had trouble with the nature he’s revealed now," Eugene acknowledged.

"Does the current Vermouth even have any sanity left?" Sienna questioned, feeling a twinge of pain from the part of her chest where she was wounded, even though it had long since healed.

She frowned and placed a hand on her chest before continuing, "He looked even stranger than when I saw him in the tomb. At least back then, Vermouth had a face."

"He's being manipulated by the Demon King of Destruction,” Eugene said while climbing down from Molon’s back. "It's clear that Vermouth has no intention of attacking us. If that’s the case, then it wasn't Vermouth who attacked us."

"Hamel, but—" said Molon.

"I know. It’s possible that Vermouth's sense of self has completely disappeared,” Eugene answered.

When they saw Vermouth earlier, he had possessed a strange appearance. His face and form were barely visible and shrouded in ominous colors. But it was undoubtedly Vermouth's body. Eugene had felt his gaze. Eugene had stared straight at him but couldn’t feel Vermouth’s ego in those eyes.

"We haven’t checked yet,” Eugene grumbled, dismissively waving his hands. "If we can clear away that chaotic mess, maybe Vermouth will come to his senses. If he doesn’t, well, we’ll think about that when the time comes."

"We’ll just have to beat him into consciousness,” Molon chuckled in response.

"If we punch a hole in his chest, he'll come to his senses whether he likes it or not,” commented Sienna.

"And if he still doesn’t wake up, I'll perform the rites for the dead. It might finally be time for a real funeral,” Anise chimed in.

Sienna and Anise laughed simultaneously. In the end, none of them intended to give up on Vermouth. The Demon King of Incarceration called it excessive ambition, but since when was it wrong to have excessive ambition? Now that they had set their minds on saving him, that was all they were thinking about. And it wasn’t just because it was Vermouth. No matter who it was, they wouldn’t abandon a comrade.

"You all rest,” Eugene said, staggering to his feet. "I'll go and briefly discuss the situation with the Patriarch."

"Shouldn’t you be the one resting most, Hamel?" said Anise.

"It’s not as bad as when I was in Giabella City,” Eugene reassured her.

While everyone needed rest, Sienna had to keep an eye on the barrier in Lehainjar, and Molon and Anise were still unable to move. Of them all, Eugene was in the best condition, and regardless of anything else, he held the title of the Commander-in-Chief of the Divine Army.

"If you go looking like that, you’ll only bring the morale down,” Sienna said while pointing at Eugene.

In the blink of an eye, his ragged clothes were washed clean, his matted hair soaked and then dried to a fluffy state. The cloak that had been crumpled and thrown aside rose up and returned to its original form, draping over Eugene’s shoulders.

"Just talk briefly and come back. The quicker you rest, the quicker you’ll recover,” said Sienna.

"But the more we delay things, the more the Demon King of Incarceration will suffer, right? Thinking about that makes me want to delay even longer,” Eugene joked.

"Stop talking nonsense, and just go and come back quickly!" Sienna chided as she shoved him towards the door.

Urged by the smacks on his back, Eugene was pushed out of the room. However, he could not help but stop after only a short walk down the corridor.

"I’m heaving... struggling... groaning…."

In the corridor sat Melkith, conspicuously positioned. She was leaning against the wall. She had slumped down and, with effort, turned to look at Eugene, offering a faint smile.

"I’m glad… you’re safe…."

Blood trickled from Melkith’s nose. Eugene glanced at the bundle of tissues that had fallen near her hand. It seemed she had just pulled the tissues that had been plugging her nose.

"Eugene… if you are… safe, then hope continues into the future… For that, I am… cough."

Melkith struggled to continue. She turned her head and coughed a few times. Unfortunately, blood did not come out as she might have hoped. Should she bite her lip or tongue? Melkith seriously considered it but decided against it. She feared the pain.

"Hah… hah… I… I don’t regret… stepping up for you…."

Watching Melkith gasping for air, her voice dying, Eugene stood still for a moment before walking towards her.

"You are… the light of the world… a flame. And to keep the flame burning… someone must be the kindling."

She was pleased with this line. Melkith shivered at her own words.

Eugene was getting closer. As he did, Melkith mixed emotion into her breath and slowly tilted her head.

"Ah, how dazzling… I am… fortunate… to have served you.…"

He passed her by.

He didn’t stop, not even for a moment. He didn’t spare her another glance. Eugene simply walked past Melkith without saying a word.

"Hey!"

Stung by his indifferent demeanor, Melkith dropped her act. She screamed and grabbed Eugene’s ankle.

"How could you do that?!"

"If you’re hurt, go see a priest. Don’t lie here; go lie in a bed,” said Eugene.

"You didn’t feel anything from my touching last words?" Melkith shouted.

"What last words? You’re not dead,” Eugene pointed out.

"I was ready to die for you!" she screamed.

"That would have been very touching, but doing this here kind of ruins it,” Eugene responded as he helped Melkith to her feet. "Now, go plug your nose again."

"Did you really find it touching?" Melkith asked expectantly.

"Of course,” answered Eugene.

"If you really were moved, then do that for me, too,” Melkith said, gritting her teeth.

It wasn’t her original intention to make such an open demand, but since her act hadn’t worked, she had no choice.

"What are you asking me to do?" questioned Eugene.

"You did that thing with Tempest, right? The light! Can't you do that with the other Spirit Kings besides Tempest?" Melkith asked excitedly.

"What nonsense are you talking about...?" Eugene asked.

"You just have to bestow your grace and baptize them! Isn’t that how it works? Spirit King of Light...!" Melkith said dreamily.

"That’s not a spirit. It's divine power,” Eugene pointed out.

"I know. There's no such thing as a spirit of light in the world. But if I, the Grand Spirit Master, say it’s the spirit of light, doesn’t it become one? I’ve decided that's how it is,” Melkith stated proudly.

"Are you sure you haven’t hit your head?" Eugene asked in concern.

"I’m perfectly fine,” answered Melkith.

"Yes, you seem as usual. Anyway, it’s not something I can do just because I want to. The Light used Tempest as a vessel..." Eugene started to explain.

"More vessels are better.” Undeterred, Melkith followed Eugene, pestering him.

"But I mean, even if I want to do it for you, I can’t. If you really want it, why don’t you join the Church of Light and pray fervently?" Eugene suggested.

"The only deity I serve as a god is the Goddess of Magic, Lady Sienna,” responded Melkith.

"Then ask Sienna to do it,” Eugene suggested.

"I’m asking you because Lady Sienna can’t...!" Melkith whined.

"As much as I’d like to oblige because I'm grateful, I can’t do what’s impossible. No matter how much you plead, I really can’t,” Eugene stated.

"Really?" asked Melkith.

"Why would I lie to you?" Eugene asked.

Only after hearing the same response several times did Melkith’s shoulders slump. She chewed her lip, filled with deep disappointment and reluctance.

"How are Tempest and the other Spirit Kings?" Eugene asked.

"They're recovering,” answered Melkith.

"So everyone needs time. Lady Melkith, you should also rest instead of wandering around,” Eugene suggested.

"Of course..."

Melkith wore a look of exasperation. Many thoughts had passed through her mind in the face of Destruction. She hadn’t simply acted without thinking. However, at that moment, she just felt it was necessary. So, without considering the consequences, she had intercepted Destruction.

Thinking about it now... frankly, it was frightening. Could she do it again next time? Did she have to fight? Was it even possible to win against such an enemy?

"Can you win if you fight?" she asked cautiously.

Eugene chuckled dryly in response, “Did I fight the Demon King of Incarceration because it seemed winnable? We fought and just happened to win."

"So? Do you think we might win if we fight this time?" Melkith probed again.

"We’ll only know if we try,” answered Eugene.

"Can I run away?" asked Melkith.

"You can go if you want,” responded Eugene.

"Now that you're not trying to stop me, I don't really want to go,” Melkith sighed heavily.

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