Mer didn’t know what she was supposed to say in response to such words. Could Eugene usually be described as quite a joker? Although he didn’t joke all the time, it also wasn’t like he had never told a joke.
If that were the case, should she just treat these words as Eugene having made a rare joke?
Alright, I understand. So you were the Stupid Hamel in a previous life. Since you have been honest with me, allow me to tell you my secret as well.
I’m actually the Wise Sienna. Hamel, you son of a bitch.
Just when she was about to say all this, Mer changed her mind and asked, “Are you being serious when you say that?”
Although his words were hard to believe, and it would probably be best to think that he was joking, as far as Mer knew, Eugene wasn’t a person to tell such a nonsensical joke at a time like this.
Eugene hadn’t just said something like this out of the blue. He had already revealed that he might say something that sounded absurd to her several months ago, and just before that, he had persistently asked her if she was able to keep his secrets.
“Are you afraid that I’m lying?” Eugene asked with an amused smirk.
Seeing this expression, Mer avoided his gaze and muttered, “...Your claim is hard to believe after all.”
Actually, there was nothing that special about being ‘reincarnated.’ While this might not apply to an artificial intelligence like Mer, most people in this world were reincarnations of someone.
However, it was near impossible to find someone who still had memories from their previous life before they had been reincarnated. Occasionally, you could meet people in this world who would tell you about their past lives, but most of them had some form of mental illness.
Could Eugene be such a mentally ill person?
Mer shook her head, “...Hmph. Although it’s hard to believe, if what you’re saying is true, then… I can suddenly understand many confusing things about you, Sir Eugene.”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt“Such as?” Eugene asked curiously.
“The speed with which Sir Eugene has grown.”
It had only been a little over two years since Eugene started learning magic. Was it really possible for someone like him to have comprehended Witch Craft in such a short time? Someone who wasn’t an Archwizard who practically lived and breathed magic, but instead a young chick who had just started practicing magic?
No.
The truth was that Eugene hadn’t comprehended Witch Craft in terms of ‘magic.’ Instead, he had simply understood the form that mana took in order to form the Eternal Hole of Witch Craft.
With his innate mana sensitivity, Eugene had merely imitated it and then adapted his imitation to better suit himself. From Mer’s point of view, she couldn’t believe such an act was really possible, even if Eugene was so talented that he was called a ‘genius.’ Among the wizards who had been allowed entry into Akron, where could you find one who hadn’t been called a genius at one time or another?
However, if Eugene could remember his past life and if he truly had been the Stupid Hamel, the companion of the Great Vermouth, in his previous life….
“...Stupid Hamel was a unique individual in many ways,” while staring at Eugene, Mer continued speaking. “The Wise Sienna grew up in the forest of the elves, where humans were not allowed to enter, and personally learned magic from the elves. The Brave Molon was the son of the tribal chief of the Bayar tribe, a tribe of the indigenous people who live in the frigid lands of the north, and his tribe was one that was especially recognized for its skill in battle. The Faithful Anise was a saintess candidate who had been carefully nurtured by the cardinals of the Holy Empire of Yuras.”
Mer was trying to say that they had all come from amazing backgrounds.
As Mer was just saying, “The Great Vermouth—”
“He was a slave,” Eugene interrupted her as he drew on the memories of his previous life. “Vermouth was one of a group of slaves who had been abducted by the demonfolk to be used as sacrifices. In order to somehow survive, he stole a sword from a demonfolk, and even though it was his first time even wielding a sword, he managed to cut his way through dozens of demonfolks and black wizards responsible for transporting the slaves. Then, as he was leading the slaves to escape Helmuth, he managed to kill hundreds of demonic beasts along the way.”
“Honestly, I always thought of that story as an exaggeration,” Mer confessed. “Because that’s what ‘myths’ are usually made up of.”
“Although I didn’t see it happen myself, it was probably the truth. That guy was a real monster,” Eugene said with a grin.
Vermouth hadn’t enjoyed talking about his past. But Hamel had heard this same story dozens of times from Molon.
The snowfield where the Bayar tribe had been living bordered Helmuth. Vermouth had led the slaves across that snowfield to escape Helmuth, and that was where he had first met Molon.
Mer hesitantly resumed, “...The Stupid Hamel was particularly unique even among that party of heroes. He… like Vermouth, didn’t really stand out from the ‘start.’ And he didn’t even come from a special background.”
Hamel had been a mercenary.
Before that, he had lived in a small village. After the village was destroyed by a monster attack, he picked up a sword to survive. He had also nursed a desire to get his revenge on these monsters and harbored a hatred for the Demon Kings who had caused these monsters to go crazy in the first place.
Like that, Hamel had lurked in the depths of the mercenary life for many years.
He hadn’t learned magic from the elves like Sienna, nor had he received a staff made from a Dragon Heart.
He didn’t receive the support and guidance an empire could provide like Anise.
He wasn’t born as the son of a tribal chief like Molon, nor was he made to confront nature with his own body as soon as he could walk.
He wasn’t born with an absurd amount of talent like Vermouth, nor did he kill dozens of black wizards and demonfolk the first time he swung his sword.
Before becoming a mercenary, Hamel was just the type of kid you could find anywhere. If he hadn't become a mercenary, he would have gone his whole life without knowing he had a talent for fighting.
This was the Stupid Hamel.
Although he came from the most ordinary background in this party of heroes, he grew to the point where he could stand shoulder to shoulder with the others in just a few short years.
“Did Sienna talk about me?” Eugene asked.
“No. However, I’ve… also read the fairy tale several times.” Mer took a deep breath and looked up at Eugene, “If you really are the reincarnation of Hamel, then I can understand your inexplicable growth rate. Because Hamel was also like that. Hamel, who appears in the fairy tale…. Although he was an extremely unpleasant person, he stands out the most among all the heroes when it comes to how much he grew over the journey.”
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm“Not necessarily,” Eugene replied with a smirk. “What I mean by that is, I was only good at improving rapidly when I first turned my hand to something. But even with that, I was unable to surpass my own limits.
“Vermouth was the God of War. He could wield all kinds of weapons and was even skilled with magic, to the point where he was called the Master-of-All. Although Sienna always insisted that their fields of specialty were different, Vermouth’s magic was definitely superior to Sienna’s in some ways.”
“...,” Mer wasn’t sure how to respond.
Eugene continued, “I was always trying to surpass Vermouth. Since I didn’t even have the chance to learn magic, I gave up on it at the very start, and from then on, I turned my attention to becoming proficient with swords and spears. I wanted to defeat Vermouth so badly that I even went and trained my fists as well. However, I was never once able to beat Vermouth.”
Hamel had once thought that he was a genius.
While he was deluding himself like this, getting drunk on his own sense of superiority within the confines of his small well, Vermouth was already flying high in the sky. Hamel had done everything he could to catch up to him, but he had still been left in the dust.
During their journey, Hamel had sparred with Vermouth several times, but it was always Hamel who ended up kneeling on the ground, his head bent in defeat.
“...Was that the case?” Mer asked doubtfully.
Had Eugene just said all this because he wanted her to comfort him? Mer honestly couldn’t quite understand Eugene’s feelings. Although the shadow Hamel had cast couldn’t help but fall short when compared to Vermouth, from an ordinary person’s point of view, hadn’t Hamel still been quite the absurd monster himself?
“What’s the point of being called a genius by others?” Eugene asked after he noticed the sullen look in her young eyes. “I’m saying that Vermouth was such a motherfucker that I couldn’t help but want to defeat that bastard at least once in my life. But until I died, I never managed to get one over on him. And on several occasions, while we were journeying together, he would rub my own shortcomings in my face. He was both a genius and a son of a bitch.”
“Why are you calling him a son of a bitch?” Mer asked curiously. “Did he do something evil that didn’t end up recorded in history?”
“That’s… not the case. He was quite… a good person. He didn’t do any bad deeds. He always helped those in need… he truly deserved to be called a hero. It’s just that he was annoying, and it’s only natural for an overly talented bastard like him to attract jealousy,” Eugene said with a snort. “But since he was so amazing, don’t I at least have the right to envy him? That’s all this is, really.”
“So what you’re saying is that you were jealous of Sir Vermouth because he was way, way better than you, Sir Hamel?”
“If I had to admit it then… yep, that’s it. In the end, it seems like you’ve decided to believe me? But there’s no need to call me by the name Hamel.”
“I just said that it was hard to believe. I didn’t say that I don’t believe you,” Mer grumbled as she pouted her lips. “When I start looking back at everything, it seems there were quite a few perplexing things that have now been cleared up. Like how you would often praise Hamel, Sir Eugene.”
“...,” Eugene went silent in embarrassment.