Damn Reincarnation

Eugene slowly straightened his back.
He could feel the throbbing in his head slowly receding, but his eyes still felt quite dry and strained.
If he could, he wanted to pull them out and rinse them in water.

“There are quite a few of them,” Eugene muttered while raising his head.
He could see about 200 figures moving in the distance.
There was no question about it — these were the Paladins and the Inquisitors.
Although the warp-gate had been disconnected, it had now been activated.
They had come to discover Eugene’s presence.

They were coming fast, and Eugene didn’t want any unnecessary confrontation.
However, it was clear that they had no consideration for his wish.
Although they wouldn’t attack immediately, they were sure to make annoying remarks and send him back.

‘Where am I?’ Eugene wondered.

He only knew that he was somewhere in the mountains but was oblivious to his exact location.
However, it didn’t really matter.
The presence of the Paladins and Inquisitors was sufficient to hint at the presence of the Fount of Light in the vicinity.

The projection from the Holy Grail and the jawbone had shown… an old temple.
However, he did not see such a temple in the vicinity.
It was expected.
Since rumors regarding the Fount of Light were unknown to the public, even the temple was hidden.

Eugene raised Akasha into the air.

He could see magic permeating the space around him, though it was impossible to understand most of the spells even with Akasha since they were divine magic.
It was a complex barrier that combined both regular magic and divine magic.
It would be difficult to break through with just magic alone.

Then couldn’t he simply blast through with force? It was an extremely simple, even ignorant way of thinking, but Eugene did not think long.

He had broken down Tressia Cathedral’s pillar of light and exited with the Holy Grail and the jawbone.
Then he reactivated the warp-gate and arrived in this place, a prohibited area.
He had already crossed several lines, so he had no reason to rack his brain over such a simple matter.
He did not need to hesitate just because the method was brutish.

“What is this?” Eugene muttered with confusion as he attempted to unsheathe the Moonlight Sword.
But, contrary to his intention, he found his hands wound around a different sword — the Holy Sword, Altair.
It had moved of its own accord and rested itself in Eugene’s hand.

Eugene frowned as he spoke, “You never showed me anything when I wished for it most, so what are you up to now?”

Who was responsible for moving the sword? Was it the God of Light? If so, Eugene wanted to smash Altair into pieces.
He cared not how valuable the blade was nor what it represented.
He didn’t like it, so he wanted to break it.

The things shown to him by the Holy Grail of Anise and the jawbone of the Saintess had been sufficient.
Images flitted into his mind: the river of blood that started to flow from a distant, unknown past, the expressionless face of Anise, the tears that drenched Kristina’s face, as well as countless girls who would have been there, those whose existences were faint and flitting.

An abominable bond.

“God?” Eugene unsheathed the Holy Sword while gritting his teeth.
In one swift motion, he attempted to break it by smashing it against the ground.
If that wasn’t sufficient to shatter it, then….
Yes, then he wanted to soak the blade with the blood of the fanatics who worshiped the abominable being as their God.

However, just as the blade was about to crash against the ground, a thin light enveloped its body.
Eugene was forced to stop himself in astonishment as the light slowly spread from the blade and wrapped around Eugene.

The Holy Sword wasn’t the sole object of illumination either.
The Holy Grail and the jawbone were also radiating in his other hand.
Each of the two holy relics was emitting light as if in response to the glowing sword.

Eugene stared at the light for a moment, then proceeded forward with a scoff.
There were Paladins and Inquisitors on guard in the warp-gate’s vicinity.
They belonged to different organizations, but they shared the same mission.
However, they were given different orders and different means to execute their mission.

Giovanni, one of the Captains of the Knights of the Blood Cross, had given orders to ‘politely’ persuade Eugene to return.
Atarax of Maleficarum gave different orders.
He had served Cardinal Sergio Rogeris for a long time and knew exactly what the man wanted.
Moreover, unlike Giovanni, he had experienced Eugene in person.

Polite persuasion? There was no way in hell Eugene Lionheart could be persuaded.
Although he was perfect when it came to his qualities as a warrior, he couldn’t have been more lacking in faith.
In addition, he had a rough and violent personality.
It was clear to Atarax that he couldn’t be persuaded to return, no matter how polite they were.

Thus, Atarax ordered the use of force from the outset.
They would either quickly suppress and hold him or send him back through the warp-gate.
It was a rough method, but it was the only method plausible to Atarax.

Just when Eugene resumed his steps with the Holy Sword in hand, six figures jumped out of the bushes — three Paladins in blood cross uniforms and three Inquisitors in red robes and shakos.
None of the faces were familiar to Eugene, but the six naturally recognized him.

One of the Paladins initiated the conversation, “Sir Eugene Lionheart.” He paused for a moment, feeling a sense of awe towards the glowing sword in Eugene’s hand.

The Paladin felt somewhat puzzled when he noticed that the bowl held in Eugene’s other hand was emitting light as well.
It wasn’t only him, either.
None of the six people imagined that the bowl was, in fact, the Holy Grail of Anise.

“Even if it’s you, this is not a place anyone can just stroll into.”

“Please return….”

The Paladins were never given a chance to finish their words.
The Inquisitors kicked off the ground, and something reflected the light from inside their fluttering red cloaks.
Their ambush wasn’t discussed previously and came as a surprise to their associates.
Moreover, their movements were far too sharp for their purpose to be considered subjugation.

But Eugene did not panic.
Instead, he was glad that they had initiated the attack.
He did not brandish his sword nor stop in his tracks, even when the Inquisitors were almost on him.
He had no regard for what abilities they possessed and what they were capable of.
Such things meant absolutely nothing to Eugene.

Thwack!

The Paladins could only call it simple, brute force.
There was no technique involved.
Eugene wielded extremely dense mana and simply bore down on the attackers.
That was all.

It was such a simple, straightforward attack, but none of the Inquisitors succeeded in resisting.
One was swatted to the ground like a fly, another was thrown to the side and helplessly rolled to the ground after smashing against a tree, while the third was hurled back to where they came from.

The Paladins shifted their stance as they felt a shiver run down their spines.
The prayers they recited in their minds gave rise to divine power.
The surroundings were quite dark as midnight approached, but the sacred light emitting from the Paladins drove the darkness away.

However, the light they emitted was tiny and insignificant compared to the light worn by Eugene.

The Paladins could not move.
Was it because their light shone with less intensity? No, such wasn’t the reason for the phenomenon.
Rather, they could not dare to move.
The very thought, the mere idea of moving, had been wiped clean from their minds.

The divine power that filled their bodies bestowed them with courage and allowed them to overcome fear, but all was nil when they saw Eugene’s face.

His face wasn’t warped or distorted.
On the contrary, he looked frighteningly calm and subdued.
However, although his face betrayed no emotions, the Paladins felt terrible anger and murderous intent from Eugene.
They could not believe that such emotions were coming from the Hero.

The curtain of light surrounding their bodies failed to inhibit their basic instincts as humans, instincts that were desperately crying out, warning them not to move even an inch.
Simply put, they were lacking in determination.

The Paladins prioritized persuading Eugene through conversation rather than subduing him by force.
They had been too soft.
So when they came to face him, their minds and determinations bent like reeds in the wind.

Eugene’s murderous intent was truly ferocious and explosive that the Paladins of the Blood Cross Knights, renowned for their unwavering faith, had been forced down and their instincts trampled upon.

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…Gulp.

The three Paladins did not dare move a muscle as if they were prey before their hunter.
They gulped, twitched, and felt cold sweat trickle past the pores on their bodies… until Eugene finally passed them.

He made his way through the barrier-protected forest.
He had intended to blow the barrier away using the Moonlight Sword but had been dissuaded by the light of the Holy Sword paving the way.

The two relics in his left hand were still glowing.

What blocked his path was an incredibly complex amalgamation of various barriers, and even Eugene’s senses were ineffective.
He could not tell what was right in front of him.
It was as if he was wandering through a thick fog….
Well, it wasn’t just a feeling.
In fact, Eugene was truly walking through a dense fog.
He could not tell whether he was walking uphill or downhill nor whether he was really on the right track.
Eugene had encountered various types of magic and barriers until now, but never a barrier so powerful.

“It really would’ve been the right choice to smash the whole thing,” muttered Eugene.
However, he did not reach for the Moonlight Sword.
He would not have hesitated if the Holy Sword had been alone in its efforts to light the path.
However, it wasn’t just the Holy Sword that guided him.

The Holy Grail….
It….
Something felt strange.
If the Holy Sword was the torch guiding his path forward, the Holy Grail and the jawbone in his left hand were….
It was as if they were pulling his hand forward; as if they were guiding the way.

“This…” whispered Eugene while looking ahead.
“Is it a miracle?”

Eugene hated the word ‘miracle.’ He had hated it for a long time.
People used the word miracle to describe any unconventional, mysterious, and impossible events, things that could not be accomplished by human power.

Most miracles experienced on the battlefields tended to be similar occurrences — seemingly impossible battles won, defeating an enemy much stronger than oneself, or surviving in impossible situations.
Such were the miracles that Eugene, or rather Hamel, experienced in his previous life.

However, it irked Hamel to call such events miracles.
Winning an impossible battle? A result of fighting with one’s life on the line.
Knocking down a stronger opponent? Product of a well-fought battle.
Surviving a situation where death was inevitable? Either gratitude was warranted to the enemy for being a meathead who failed to confirm the death, or someone had struggled to save your life.

—In a sense, couldn’t they all be classified as miracles?

—No.

—Hamel, I am treating you now because I have the power to treat you.
The power I have was given to me by the God of Light, so my existence itself could be proof of miracles.

—You are free to think as you’d like, but I don’t think that way.
Fucking hell.
We’re the ones who struggle, the ones who fight, and you are the one who treats.
Why should we have to take it as a God-given miracle?

—I do not want to argue with you about faith.
Hamel, I know you are a persistent, single-minded, stubborn brat, like a worm.

—Did you just call me a brat?

—All you’re saying is that you don’t want to admit the miracles of the gracious God of Light, right? You think your achievements are a result of your talent and hard work.
That is truly an arrogant—

—Not me, but us.

—What?

—We are talented, hard-working, and victorious.
We won impossible battles because we fought well, and you are treating me here and now because you’re here.
Proof of a miracle? You? What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not a miracle, but a normal, living, breathing human, aren’t you?

—…Ha…!

—What, you got a problem? If you think I’m wrong, go fucking fetch that wonderful almighty god of yours.
Hmm? You can’t, right? So why do you keep ranting about some damned miracle and—

—Then let’s put it like this.

He could clearly recall Anise’s expression from that time.

—All of this, everything here, is not a miracle of God.
Hamel, as you say….
You, no, we….
Haha.
No, even that is pretentious.
Just….
All of us….
Right.
It’s something that everyone achieved together with a… sprinkle, just a little bit of God’s will… just a small miracle.

Anise had said this with a smile.
Come to think of it, that was the first time Anise had conceded in any matter regarding faith and miracles.
It was the first time she had backed down and acknowledged even a little bit without pushing her own view.

A small miracle.

Eugene came to a stop.
He couldn’t walk anymore.
Anise had always spoken about God, Light, and miracles.
She had always prayed to her god with an imperishable smile.

Anise had truly believed in the existence of God.
At least, that’s how it always looked.
Anise had been more desperate than anyone else for the existence of God.
She had to be.

Three hundred years ago, Anise desired to lead everyone who died to heaven.
She declared that she would shed blood on behalf of God and light the darkness on behalf of God.
She had declared that she would shine as the most brilliant light after God to bring light to the damned and to lead them to heaven.

…Sometimes, she questioned the existence of God and heaven.
Countless people died.
The days were filled with suffering and deaths.
Far too many people were buried, and lands were laid to waste.
It was impossible to find anything other than battlefields and the grim smell of death.
It was an era where demonic creatures killed humans, monsters killed humans, demons killed humans, and humans killed humans.

So Anise doubted the existence of God.
The omniscient, omnipotent God was nowhere to be found when the world needed his presence the most.
God did not shed blood on behalf of his lambs.
God, the so-called light to drive away all darkness, did not drive away the everlasting night of the dark era.

Every day, the sun gave way to twilight, then once again brought light at dawn, but the world greeting the new ray of sun was absolutely no different from the night before.

Despair filled the unchanging days, and just when he was at the brink of collapse when he no longer had the will to overcome his drunkenness, Hamel acknowledged a miracle of God for the first time in his life.

Vermouth — his existence was a miracle of God.
God wasn’t uncaring and absent.
Instead, he was trying to save the world by sending Vermouth.

That was how Eugene had convinced himself.

“Anise,” Eugene called out.

The long, intense battles were always decorated with a drink at the end.
When the hellish, torturous battles were over, Anise’s back was always soaked with blood.
Fortunately, the smell of her blood had been masked by the overwhelming stench of blood from their surroundings.

When Anise took off her uniform and showed her blood-soaked back, Hamel saw how her stigmata had spread compared to before.
Anise drank when he wiped the blood from her back and applied ointment.

“Should I have brought alcohol?” whispered Eugene.
But there was no answer.

The small, pale hand led Eugene.
He could not smell blood from the girl.
The once bloodstained clothes were now white and spotless.
So Eugene wanted to cry.
He could not deny that there was no warmth radiating from the hand that led him.
He couldn’t even feel its weight.

Although he could see the fluttering blonde hair and the girl’s back as clear as day, he knew well that she wasn’t of the living.
He did not want to believe that this… cruel little miracle was a gift from God.

“…You…” Eugene called out, but the little girl never turned back.
She continued forward and guided Eugene to the right path.
Though the fog slowly cleared, Eugene did not want to turn his eyes away.
He saw the small hands, arms, back, and hair of the little girl pulling on his left hand.

“…Would have… gone to heaven, right?”

Please turn a blind eye to this immorality.
If you cannot, please bestow the duties to enter heaven upon the shoulders of your servant.
Then, let us reunite one day in the same place.

“You….
You’ve become an angel in heaven, right?”

Before he knew it, Eugene was no longer walking through the forest.

The dream shown to him by the Holy Sword and the prayer of Anise….

—If not us, who could go to heaven?

It had to be true.
More than anyone else, Anise, you deserved to go to heaven.
Eugene honestly thought so.
He knew exactly the type of life Anise led in his previous life.

If not for anything else, heaven had to exist for the sake of Anise.
Just as she hoped, she had to have become the second most brilliant light after God to illuminate heaven.

—We will definitely be able to reunite in paradise.
If we do not….

Clack.

The Holy Grail fell from his hand.
Both the chalice and the jawbone contained inside rolled across the ground.

—Then God does not exist.

He found himself somewhere underground following the little girl’s guidance.

What welcomed him wasn’t a hallucination created by the barrier.

But Eugene did not want to look straight at the sight before his eyes.
He didn’t know what to think, what to feel, and what expression to make.

Plop.

He heard a drop of water, and Eugene clenched his teeth.
He wanted to avoid the smell of blood.
Fortunately, the stench of blood that permeated his sense of smell was his own blood.
Blood was trickling down from his peering eyes and pursed lips.

I have to look.

A voice resonated in his head — his own voice.
Eugene slowly raised his head and peered straight ahead.
Many pipes that lined the wall were… in contact with a spring of water.
The water was drawn into a pipe, traveled through its innards, through the filter… then fell back into the puddle.
The last step of the purification was responsible for the sound of water that filled the space.

There were many filters.

There were many pipes.

The whole process was repeated, over and over and over again.
The central pipe drew water from the spring and then directed it elsewhere.
The scene was truly horrible and reminded Eugene of a pipe organ — a sick, abhorrent mischief of an organ.

Eugene raised his head and looked up.
He saw the ‘filters’ connected to the pipes, the white spheres hanging like ripe fruits in the air.

Inside the spheres were….

“…..”

‘What am I doing here?’

‘What am I holding in my hand?’

‘The objects rolling at my feet, the things in front of me, the things hanging above me….’

Plop.

Somewhere from the pipes, the sound of water resonated once more, and Eugene closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes, countless girls were hanging above the spring.
It was still difficult to make out the faces of the girls, and… he still couldn’t understand why.
However, he could see Anise standing upright and Kristina crying.

“Pity,” Anise parted her lips.
That awful woman — even now, she didn’t tell Eugene everything.
But Eugene did not crave an answer from her either.

The answer didn’t matter.

“It must have been difficult and painful.
Even now,” said Anise while slowly approaching Kristina.
Countless girls walked by her side, and one by one, they began to disappear.
The girls melted away like the snow and became a part of the spring.
However, Anise and Kristina still remained.

“Hamel,” Anise called out after taking her place behind Kristina, who continued to cry.
She opened her arms and embraced Kristina from behind, “What will you do?”

Leaving behind the dreadful question, the two finally disappeared.
Eugene lowered his head….
The Holy Grail and jawbone had already crumbled beyond recognition.

“…..”

What was he going to do?

It was definitely something Anise would ask.
Although she was the one who wanted something, she would never say it directly.

However, right now, she did not even need to ask.

Eugene slowly raised his head, and a deadly flame engulfed his eye sockets.