Damn Reincarnation

Eugene, who had left for Lehainjar to take a test, returned after a full day in a state where he couldn’t even control his own body.

His injuries had been completely treated. Only the recoil from Ignition remained. But no matter what, it was just a fact that Eugene had no choice but to receive Molon and Anise’s support to walk because he couldn’t keep himself steady, and seeing Eugene looking like this caused many of the fort’s inhabitants to nod their heads.

Eugene Lionheart had been recognized as one of the heroes of the present age. All the famed warriors who met him acknowledged Eugene’s genius potential. He was still only twenty-one years old, but the strength he had managed to achieve at such a young age didn’t fall short compared to those famed warriors who stood at the forefront of the times.

However, he still couldn’t match up to the great hero from three hundred years ago. This was only natural. Although he had been in seclusion for over a hundred years, Molon Ruhr was still the Brave Molon.

Several people had come looking for Eugene while he was confined to his bed.

“Even if it’s you, it seems that you can only be treated as a child by Sir Molon, huh?” The corners of Cyan’s mouth culled upwards subtly, no, blatantly, as he placed some medicine on a bedside table.

“Well, it can’t be helped, can it?” Cyan continued. “Sir Molon is a great hero who fought alongside our ancestor, and you, well… while it might be true that you’re an amazing genius, it’s not like you were able to fight during that era, right?”

‘I did fight back then, you son of a bitch.’ Eugene barely managed to swallow the reply that rose to his throat.

“Sir Molon has obtained victory after standing on countless battlefields after all, so don’t let it get you down too much,” Cyan encouraged Eugene. “No matter how talented you may be, in Sir Molon’s eyes, you're just a distant descendant of his friend, so it’s only natural for him to treat you like he would a child.”

“Are you really going to keep yapping?” Eugene growled.

Cyan acted innocent as he said, “Can’t you understand my feelings of concern for you as my brother? But you really are quite impressive. What was it again… Ignition? Is that what you called it? Your body is in such pain because you used that technique again. Even without having seen it, it’s clear what happened. Did you stubbornly insist on trying to somehow defeat Sir Molon? Because of your own hurt pride, no?”

Eugene snapped, “Shut up!”

“No, I really am worried about you,” Cyan insisted. “Don’t let it get to you. Just lie down and have a good rest—”

Not willing to listen to him any further, Eugene grabbed an apple from the fruit basket next to his bed. He was intent on throwing it at Cyan, but at that moment, he put too much strength into his grip force, crushing the apple and turning it into juice.

“I think it’s pretty cool that you refused to admit defeat and showed off everything that you had,” Cyan immediately reversed his opinion and rose from his seat.

Ciel was the one who came looking for him next. Having just finished bathing, with a freshly dried appearance, she sat close to Eugene.

“Do you know?” Ciel asked. “The hot springs here are said to relieve fatigue and help with muscle recovery. If the recoil from your barbaric technique is anything close to severe muscle pain, won’t your recovery be faster if you take a dip in the hot springs?”

“It’s hard for me to even control my body, so how do you expect me to get into the hot springs?” Eugene complained.

“Shall I help you with that?” Ciel offered.

Eugene scoffed, “Are you crazy?”

“No way. Could it be that you have some strange thoughts?” Ciel smirked. “There’s also such a thing as a family bath. It’s not like you need to go in there naked, and it’s for the sake of treatment and recovery. It doesn’t really matter to me, but if you say please,I might consider helping you.”

Although Ciel gave this proposal with a grin, she was certain that Eugene wouldn’t really accept her offer. But what would she do if he did accept it? She would need a lot of time to mentally prepare herself, but… Ciel suddenly gulped and glanced down at Eugene.

“Of course, I’m just joking,” Ciel nervously corrected herself. “You know that, right?”

“Do you think I’m crazy enough to take those words seriously?” Eugene asked in offense.

Although she had only asked that question to take a peek at Eugene’s opinion, Ciel was a bit disappointed by his immediate response.

She changed the subject, “You don’t seem to have any wounds, so I can’t really get a clear picture. Just how many times were you beaten by Molon?”

“I didn’t get hit all that much,” Eugene refuted her.

“Really?” Ciel questioned in disbelief.

Eugene reminded her, “You already know the facts. I’m not lying here because I was beaten by Mo… Sir Molon but because of the recoil from my technique.”

One year ago, when Eward had run wild at the Black Lion Castle, Eugene had used Ignition while fighting the Remnants of the Demon Kings, who had used Eward’s body as their host. Back then, Eugene had also needed to stay in bed for several days, like he was doing now, so Ciel was well aware of the reason for Eugene’s convalescence.

“If you used that skill, that means you were backed so far into a corner that you had no choice but to use it,” Ciel surmised.

Eugene attempted to deny it, “...Not really? Why would I be cornered? I just used it because I wanted to use it, so what?”

Ciel silently narrowed her eyes and stared at Eugene. Eugene couldn’t bear to meet her gaze, so he awkwardly looked elsewhere.

“Well, even so, it’s not like you’re the only one going through this,” Ciel generously conceded.

“What do you mean by that?” Eugene asked.

Ciel informed him, “Sir Molon has said that if anyone wishes to challenge him or engage in a spar, they can feel free to find him at any time. Just today, my father, Lady Carmen, and the other Captains from the Black Lion Castle have said that they will be challenging Sir Molon.”

To be honest, Eugene had nothing to be ashamed of. For now, at least, he thought that it was only natural that he would lose to Molon.

However… however, wasn’t it a much different matter when it came to Eugene accepting it himself compared to others bringing it up in front of him? So you lost to Sir Molon? For Eugene, who was both Eugene and, at the same time, Hamel, upon hearing these words from other people, he would inevitably get angry.

‘If I had known it would be like this, I would have only returned after the recoil was over,’ Eugene thought regretfully.

But it was too late for such regrets. Hopefully, Molon wouldn’t hold back just because they were his juniors and would instead beat them up with all his strength. So that they knew they had absolutely no chance of winning. Eugene hoped that Molon showed there was enough of a difference between him and them that they couldn’t help but feel that way….

“As expected, Sir Molon really is Sir Molon.”

“Is that so?” Eugene responded

“Yes. I gave it my all while fighting him, but I couldn’t even leave a single wound on Sir Molon.”

“How about the others?” Eugene asked.

“Even Sir Molon expressed admiration for Lord Carmen’s skills. However, Lord Carmen’s Deadliest Combination was only able to make Sir Molon take a few steps back. Sir Molon wasn’t injured in the slightest. The same goes for the Patriarch’s sword.”

Eugene held firmly onto the corners of his lips that were about to start twitching on their own.

Genos Lionheart, the Captain of the First Division of the Black Lion Knights and the successor to the Hamel style passed down by Vermouth, was someone who knew the truth that Eugene was Hamel’s reincarnation.

He was currently sitting in front of Eugene with bandages wrapped around all four of his limbs. The fact that he only needed bandages was all thanks to being treated with divine magic, as originally, all his limbs had been broken.

“However, Molon was weaker than me,” Eugene declared proudly.

“As expected of Sir Hamel,” Genos complimented.

“Now that I’ve barely reached the peak of my current life, it’s only natural that I would lose….” Eugene trailed off, only to quickly make his excuses, “Ah, don’t get me wrong. Three hundred years ago, when we were both in our prime, I was stronger than Molon, but unlike me, Molon didn’t die and continued training. So it’s only natural for Molon to be stronger than the current me.”

“I felt Sir Molon’s transcendent strength with my own body,” Genos said in agreement, his sincere respect for Hamel shining through. “Sir Molon is worthy of being a great hero not just because of his strength but also because of his character. After all my limbs were broken, he personally carried me—”

“Are you saying that my strength and character aren’t worthy of being a great hero?” Eugene accused defensively.

Genos gave a startled, “Huh?”

“If Molon really had a character worthy of a great hero, he wouldn’t have broken your limbs in the first place, now would he?” Eugene pointed out triumphantly.

Genos hesitated, “Yes… now that you say that, it does seem so.”

“Instead, I recognized you as my successor and supplemented your understanding of the Hamel style, even though I didn’t really want to recall it. I also improved your Red Flame Formula to suit the Hamel Style. I am definitely in possession of a character worthy of a great hero, don’t you think so?”

“Indeed, Sir Hamel truly is a great hero.”

Because of his respect for Hamel, Genos didn’t refute Eugene’s words. Also, it was true that he had received a lot of help from Eugene. Following the death of the previous Council Head, Doynes, the Lionhearts went through many changes.

However, the White Flame Formula was still the sole property of the main family, while the collateral lines could only learn the Red Flame Formula. This was the basis for maintaining the balance of the huge Lionheart clan, so it wasn’t something that could hastily be changed. No matter how impulsive Eugene could be, he couldn’t just teach Genos, who was from a collateral line, the White Flame Formula.

As such, besides the White Flame Formula, Eugene had taught Genos various other things. The Hamel style and the version of the Red Flame Formula that had been passed down through Genos’s family had been harmonized, and the insufficient aspects of the Red Flame Formula had been supplemented by Eugene. So having received such favor, it was only natural for Genos to respect Hamel even more than he already did.

Getting back to the point, Eugene asked, “So what, after breaking your limbs, what did Molon say to you?”

“He said that he could feel Sir Hamel from the fighting spirit and swordsmanship incorporated into my fighting style,” Genos said with a proud expression.

For someone like him, who deeply respected Hamel, Molon saying such words to him was the highest praise and evaluation.

However, Eugene couldn’t help but feel a subtle sense of incongruity…. Even though Eugene himself acknowledged that Genos’s skills were quite excellent, no matter how much he rolled the idea through his head, he didn’t feel like Genos really resembled Hamel all that much.

Being tactful enough to notice that he shouldn’t let such thoughts escape his mouth, Eugene didn’t express his opinions and just kept his mouth shut.

* * *

It was only after five days had passed that Eugene’s body felt better.

Just in case, he had been worried that the likes of Amelia Merwin or Hemoria might take advantage of the opening left by the weakening of his body to attack him. While it was something that couldn’t be done if you thought about it rationally, among all the idiots that Eugene had met in his entire life, those two ranked quite highly on the list of the most idiotic.

Fortunately, nothing like that had happened.

“Vermouth’s descendants are strong,” up in the fort’s tower, Molon spoke up as the winds blew against him.

“But as descendants of Vermouth, they’re still too weak,” Eugene, who was wrapped up in a cloak beside Molon, replied with a snort.

It wasn’t that the Lionhearts were all that weak. On the contrary, they were strong enough that they could easily claim to be the best martial clan on the continent.

In Eugene’s opinion, Carmen, who represented the highest tier of elders, could even boast about being the best in the continent. With her skills, except for the Three Dukes, she would be able to fight single-handedly against any of the highest-ranking demonfolks in Helmuth. That alone was already impressive enough. Usually, high-ranking demonfolks weren’t opponents that humans could face all on their own.

Then there was the Patriarch, Gilead, and his youngest brother, Gion. Since the second brother, Gilford, had already laid down the sword, following Carmen, the next strongest master from the main family portion of the Lionheart clan needed to be picked from those two. To put things bluntly, both of their skills were several steps behind Carmen’s. However, like Carmen, there was plenty of room for growth.

Eugene justified his position, “As I recall, Vermouth was much younger than those three when he reached his prime. Yet even so, he was overwhelmingly stronger than they are now.”

The Queen of the Night Demons, Noir Giabella, and the Blade of Incarceration, Gavid Lindman; even back three hundred years ago, those two were considered the strongest of the demonfolks, apart from the Demon Kings. In that era, Vermouth was the only one who could stand against those two demonfolks all on his own.

Molon defended them, “Just because they’re Vermouth’s descendants, that doesn’t mean they have to be just as strong as Vermouth, Hamel. After all, the same goes for my descendants as well.”

“They resemble you in how big they are,” Eugene pointed out.

“However, there’s a big difference in their strength. I consider Aman as the descendant who has most strongly inherited my blood, but even his strength is much weaker than I was when you first met me,” Molon said as he puffed out his chest proudly. “However, Aman does have the potential to grow stronger. I think that goes for all who have inherited my blood, no, for everyone who is living in this era. And all of Vermouth’s Lionheart clan have the same gray hair and golden eyes that Vermouth had.”

It was the only genetic trait that hadn’t thinned over time. Even after being passed down through dozens of generations and mixing with other bloodlines, all the Lionhearts still inherited the same gray hair and golden eyes. Even the most distant collateral lines were born with the golden eyes and gray hair that served as Vermouth’s symbols.

It was as if a strong will had been dissolved into the blood. No matter how much it was mixed and diluted, it felt like this blood seemed to insist on maintaining its identity as the Lionheart’s, no, as Vermouth’s blood.

Was it because Vermouth’s blood was special? Or perhaps, Vermouth had made his bloodline special?

But for what purpose?

Eugene silently pondered these questions.

He felt that this had something to do with Hamel’s reincarnation. Of course, it was only a hunch, but Eugene shook his head as he felt a slightly creepy sensation running down his back.

“There’s also you, isn’t there, Hamel?” Molon spoke up, his large fist approaching Eugene.

Molon seemed to have developed a liking for greeting people with fist bumps. Last time, Eugene was being supported by Anise, but this time a healthy Eugene was standing on his own two feet. So he proudly spread his shoulders wide and held his fist up to Molon’s.

Molon continued, “You were born as Vermouth’s descendant and have become a member of the Lionhearts. If that’s the case, doesn’t that guarantee that one of Vermouth’s descendants will be as strong as Vermouth?”

At these words, Eugene couldn’t help but feel a subtle sense of joy. Honestly speaking, he was embarrassed to have been born a descendant of Vermouth as part of that bastard’s plan. However, when Molon said, will be as strong as Vermouth, Eugene’s cheeks couldn’t help but twitch in an aborted smile.

In the end, didn’t those words mean that, in Molon’s opinion, Hamel was just as strong as Vermouth?

“I’m guessing he means, ‘might be as strong as Vermouth,’” said Anise, who had been sitting on the balcony railing while gulping down beer.

Although her expression wasn’t visible as her head was turned away, Eugene could easily imagine Anise's expression. She would definitely have on a sullen look with pouting lips. It couldn’t be helped.

She had been recognized as a Saint after flapping her wings and shouting that she had received a divine revelation. Because of that, Anise kept receiving envious glances from Yuras’ priests, and her busy days were spent providing instructions on miracles and conducting worship services.

Of course, all of that had been conducted by Kristina, not Anise. Anise would only give a few words of advice from a corner of their shared consciousness while grumbling about when all this would end.

Even so, it was true that she wasn’t able to hang out with Eugene or Molon because she was so busy during the day, making it only natural that Anise was upset.

Molon was also just as busy. In these past few days, he had already finished sparring with most of the knights in the fort and had even taken up the role of serving as the knights’ training partner. When Nur would occasionally appear, Molon would quickly return to the Lehainjar.

In two days, the Knight March would be coming to an end.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Anise said in a sulky voice. “But I’m a little worried about Molon. Currently, we’ve all been able to reunite like this, and you, Molon, have also gotten acquainted with your descendants and the other knights here, but… in the end, you’ll just be returning to the Lehainjar, won’t you?”

“That’s right,” Molon confirmed. “Going there and back while staying here is just cumbersome, and it will only feel dull to me in the long run.”

“I’m not worried about you going crazy again, but…,” Anise trailed off.

Would Molon really be okay?

As this thought came to her mind, Anise stopped speaking for a few moments.

She didn’t really want to express her concerns. It was just that the feelings buried deep within her heart were drawing her attention to them of their own accord. Anise was all too familiar with the feelings of loss. That might be the case, but Molon knew loss even better than Anise. After all, the only one who had survived until the present day was Molon.

“Are you worried that we won’t be able to meet each other once more?” Molon asked with a laugh.

Anise couldn’t bear to easily admit to those words. She just didn’t want to. Although she had tried to twist her words this way and that, Anise’s true feelings were just as Molon had described.

She was afraid that this meeting might just be their last. She was afraid that next time, they wouldn’t be able to meet like this. The reason she had been so groundlessly irritated ever since earlier, and why she wasn’t able to enjoy the alcohol that she was drinking, was all due to her inability to accept that she was upset and afraid of their upcoming parting. The moment she accepted her true feelings, she was afraid and concerned that she would be unable to ignore these feelings from then on.

“Haven’t we already made a promise regarding that?” Molon reminded her.

“A promise?” Anise repeated.

Molon replied, “If I turn strange, Hamel said he would come back to beat me up.”

Anise gasped in realization, “...Ah.”

“Hamel, Anise, the both of you have requested something from me: that I should keep a watch over this place for just a little longer. I will never forget your request for the rest of my life. Until you two return with Vermouth and Sienna, I won’t change, and I will keep guarding this place,” Molon promised.

“This idiot. When did I ever make such a request? I just casually agreed with Hamel when he started persuading you all on his own,” Anise said as she put down her drink and turned her head away from them.

She had always been strong. She strived to never show a weak appearance. This was because Anise Slywood was the Saint. Because she existed to protect and heal all those who were weak, she couldn’t afford to reveal her own weakness to anyone else.

That was what she was like at first. But after becoming Vermouth’s comrade and meeting Molon, Sienna, and Hamel, the Saint had become a human being named Anise. She gained comrades to whom she wasn’t afraid to show her weaknesses. Even so, Anise didn’t always reveal her true feelings. She hid those behind a smiling expression, with sarcasm and teasing.

Only on a very few occasions, when she felt like she had to cry a little, would Anise honestly let her tears fall. Because she knew that it would be alright if she did.

“It will be over much sooner than the one hundred years you have already been waiting for,” Anise promised in return.

Anise didn’t shed too many tears. Only a single streak of tears trickled down her cheek. However, those tears were enough to make Eugene and Molon flustered. What Anise had told him of her own demise just a few days ago was still clearly at the forefront of Eugene’s memories.

“Y-you’ll definitely also be with us at that time, Anise,” Eugene said as he leaped out of his seat to stand beside Anise.

“Anise, if you aren’t there, I won’t leave the Great Hammer Canyon,” Molon said, spreading his thick arms wide.

His intention was to hold her in his arms and allow Anise to cry to her heart’s content, but Anise had no desire to do so. She couldn’t understand why Eugene and Molon were making a fuss all of a sudden.

Anise asked Kristina for help, ‘Kristina, why are these two idiots acting up all of a sudden?’

[Because that’s how much they love you, Sister,] Kristina replied in a happy tone.