Damn Reincarnation-Novel

“…..”

After hearing the tale, Eugene was left unable to manage his expression, a task he had thought himself immune to by now, especially when it came to Melkith. He shook his head with a heavy sigh. Kristina raised her head and peered at Eugene’s face while carefully aligning his twisted limbs.

"Oh, it's okay, I'm not in pain," he assured. However, his appearance suggested anything but.

Both his arms were cleanly broken, and his right ankle and left knee were twisted in unnatural directions. The sight alone was enough to send shivers down one's spine. In fact, Raimira had already created some distance from Eugene while rubbing her own limbs. She was clearly affected by the sight.

Eugene composed his features and emotions. With a crunch and snap, Kristina corrected the alignment of his leg. With a twist, the joint was fixed back into its place with a gruesome noise.

“Hieeeek….” Raimira let out a pained gasp while clutching her knees. Mer had been observing the situation with her eyes half-squinted. She suddenly felt a surge of mischief and began to shake Raimira’s knee.

"Crack! Crack-crack!"

"Kyaaah! Kyaaahh!”

Mer imitated the sound of breaking bones while Raimira screamed in terror. Amidst the chaos, Kristina continued her meticulous work on Eugene's bones.

Kristina wasn’t just relying on her miracles to heal Eugene. Instead, she paid attention to Eugene’s every shattered bone fragment and torn muscle fiber. She knew that this delicate adjustment would aid in improving her skills.

[Are you even listening? Huh? That bastard... what's his name... right, Harpeuron! Rank fifty-seven! That bastard said he's coming to kill me!] A voice was heard in Eugene’s head.

“…..” Eugene didn’t have the capacity to reply at this point.

“Lady Melkith,” said Eugene. He wiggled his toes, testing the sensation in his now properly aligned leg. "You're... you're remarkable." That was all he could manage to say.

The matter of collapsing dungeons or burying black wizards alive wasn't a concern for him. He wasn’t worried about Melkith regarding such matters. Apart from her being half-crazy, Melkith's prowess was beyond question. In all honesty, if Melkith summoned all three Spirit Kings to battle, Eugene felt he might need to draw the Moonlight Sword.

As such, he didn’t think Melkith would face any peril in the desert, especially in Amelia Merwin’s absence.

The fact that Melkith had confronted and defeated a black wizard contracted with a demon of the fifty-seventh rank wasn't surprising, considering her abilities.

He couldn’t help but marvel at Melkith’s audacity. She had provoked the spirit form of the summoned demon as a… weak piece of shit and a piglet. It wasn’t anything short of remarkable. In this era, only Melkith could dare to use such brash and vulgar taunts.

[Right? I’m impressive, aren’t I?] Melkith said.

“Yes. Even Tempest is impressed,” answered Eugene.

[Of course! So, Eugene, can I return to Aroth now, huh?] inquired Melkith.

“No, you can’t,” came the answer.

[Whyyyyy?!] Melkith’s outcry made it evident about the injustice she was suffering.

“If Harpeuron has said he's coming to kill you, what will we do if you're in Aroth?” Eugene asked.

[What’s the issue with that!?] questioned Melkith.

“Lady Sienna is currently in Aroth. No matter how furious Harpeuron gets, he won’t attack Aroth,” stated Eugene.

Eugene recalled Harpeuron's name from memories long past. Even then, the demon had been well-known, and it was a surprise he had survived to this age.

Eugene wasn't worried. Rank fifty-seven? High in objective terms, but, as Melkith said, was it something to boast about when there were fifty-six others above you?

Eugene also believed that most high-ranking demons of this era survived only because they had never encountered ‘Hamel of Extermination’ three centuries ago.

Sometimes, enemies offered more precise and reliable evaluations than allies. Eugene preferred the chillingly cool moniker ‘Hamel of Extermination' to 'the Stupid Hamel.' It was much more accurate.

[Don’t you care? Aren’t you worried about your big sis? Those monstrous demons said they're coming to kill me!] shouted Melkith indignantly.

“Even if they come determined, it would be difficult, probably impossible, to kill you, Lady Melkith. After all, you're the most extraordinary master of spirit magic, the greatest in history. There is no one who can compare to you,” said Eugene.

Now was the time to lavish praise upon Melkith. And it wasn't exactly a lie either.

[That is absolutely, completely true. But you know, Eugene, I'm a bit worried,] admitted Melkith.

“What’s worrying you?” asked Eugene.

[You know, the Black Tower Master, that guy is so sly. I told him to leave once he was done, and he just took off, suspiciously fast. He’s so dubious,] responded Melkith.

“He left because you told him to, so how is that suspicious?” asked Eugene.

[You shouldn’t think he just went away! He must be lurking somewhere. I’m sure he’s spying on me,] said Melkith.

“You're being too harsh on the Black Tower Master…,” Eugene said.

Yet, he agreed that Balzac was suspicious. Sure, even if Eugene could let it slide, the reason he left Aroth…. What was he researching in the desert?

Balzac had been helpful in many ways. Despite his suspicious nature, based on past experiences, Eugene judged Balzac to be a decent person.

But ultimately, he was a black wizard contracted with the Demon King of Incarceration. Even if Balzac wasn’t a black wizard who needed to be killed by Eugene's standards, Eugene opposing the Demon King of Incarceration meant that someday he would have to fight Balzac.

Considering that, disrupting his deep-seated research now might help diminish Balzac's strength in the future.

"You didn’t just send him off, I gather?” Eugene inquired with an undertone of doubt.

[Haah. What do you take me for?] came Melkith's smug voice. [Naturally, I sent a spirit to tail Balzac. I’m not naive.]

"Then keep an eye on the Black Tower Master. But go easy on the dungeon raids,” advised Eugene.

[Go easy?] Melkith asked.

"Let’s tone it down. Maybe one raid every fortnight? That should suffice,” suggested Eugene.

[And what am I to do in the meantime!? Sunbathe and tan in the desert?!] screamed Melkith in a shrill voice.

"Surely that country has more than just deserts. I’ve been there a few times in the past myself. The cities are quite lively if I remember correctly,” responded Eugene.

[Hey, excuse me, Eugene? Did you not hear anything I said earlier? The Sultan's after me! He's already sent assassins! Several times!] shouted Melkith, now sounding angry.

"Aren’t you a master of spirit magic? Are you scared of mere assassins, Lady Melkith? When I was nineteen, I took care of those very assassins with ease. And with your magical prowess, you could easily alter your appearance,” countered Eugene.

Eugene’s limbs were mended to perfection as the conversation went on. Eugene continued to persuade Melkith as he moved each finger to test their function.

"Please, Lady Melkith, you're the only one I can ask for this favor. You wouldn't go back on your word now, would you?" he said.

He added a subtle nudge of pressure to the plea, and Melkith sighed deeply in response.

[I must have gone crazy. Why did I agree to this?] she pondered out loud.

"It wasn't all loss, was it?" countered Eugene.

[Fine, fine. I get it,] Melkith said in a resigned tone.

As her voice faded, Eugene glanced at the receding wind and asked, "Tempest, you weren’t lying because you didn’t want to form a contract with Lady Melkith, right?”

[What do you take me for, Hamel? While I do find Melkith El-Hayah troublesome, I would never forsake the dignity of a Spirit King by lying.]

Though Tempest's response was firm, internally, the Spirit King harbored growing unease. Melkith El-Hayah — as much as it pained him to admit — had an almost devilish talent for spirit magic. In just a few months, her capacity as a spiritist had expanded remarkably. The harsh yet pure desert played a pivotal part in stretching the bounds of her vessel.

Eugene stood up while ignoring Tempest’s sullen mood. He tested his healed body with a few jumps and stretches. "Moving well, I see,” he commented.

Satisfied with his smoothly functioning body prompted him to smile broadly at Kristina.

"I think you might be on par with Anise now,” he praised wholeheartedly.

"Not at all, Sir Eugene. I still have a long way to go,” Kristina said modestly while caressing the Stigmata on her palm. Thanks to Eugene and Molon's relentless sparring, her healing magic had made incredible strides during their time in the cave.

Strangely, the more familiar they became with each other's fighting styles, the more severe their injuries grew. Their attacks became sharper and more lethal with each passing as they refrained from holding back.

"Hamel, are you planning to head out again?" Anise asked while squinting at Eugene.

Eugene flinched instinctively at her words. He naturally stopped in the midst of his natural stride towards the cave's exit.

"Um... I feel I'm on the verge of a breakthrough…," said Eugene.

"I understand that you are training to grow stronger and that it’s necessary. I know I shouldn’t stop you. However, don’t you think resting a bit more today might be prudent, especially after almost dying?” suggested Anise.

She appeared pretty displeased, yet as she admitted, she had no intention of hindering Eugene's progress. Still, the fact that he had narrowly escaped death made her wish he would opt for some respite.

"It's fine," Eugene assured her with a shake of his head. "It's been a while since I've danced so close to death. That's exactly why I need this sharpened sense."

Indeed, he had come close to death. Molon had long since stopped sparring with bare hands. Since Eugene's arrival in the cave, Molon had consistently wielded his axe in their battles.

It was sparring only in words. The mere brush of Molon's axe brought the whisper of death each time. Eugene knew that a moment's lapse could lead to a fatal blow.

Eugene sought this intensity, and Molon obliged. Only such peril held meaning. If he could not completely surpass Molon’s axes, anything less was insufficient for Eugene to reach the next level.

If Eugene remained weaker than Molon, he could not hope to surpass the challenges ahead.

Eugene could open the boundary of Lehainjar with his Moonlight Sword. Although it was impossible for him to immediately sense the emergence of the Nur, he could respond somewhat similarly if he scattered feathers of Prominence throughout the mountain.

It was an idle, useless thought. While Molon's strength was undeniable, his power was too straightforward. It possessed clear weaknesses.

Even if he could handle Gavid, facing Noir’s determined assault of mental attacks through unleashing the power of the Demoneye of Fantasy would leave Molon helpless. Moreover, Molon's mind had once been pushed to the brink of sanity by the Nur's poison. He was particularly vulnerable to such mental onslaughts.

In the end, it was up to Eugene to become stronger. The several months of dancing on the edge of life and death with Molon's axe were not for naught. Eugene knew this better than anyone.

It wasn't that he hadn't faced formidable enemies before. But the opponents Eugene had encountered — whether it was Barang, the demon who had compelled him to first unleash Ignition, or Jagon, the Beast of Ravesta — neither had been stronger than Hamel.

Even Eward, when possessed by the shadow spirit, and Edmund, who had been completely nullified by the Moonlight Sword, hadn't outmatched him.

There had been only two beings who could be deemed stronger than Hamel, than Eugene himself.

One was Raizakia, the Demon Dragon.

The other was the newly birthed Demon King of Fury, Iris. However, his battles with both of them had ended in a single encounter.

Battles with Molon did not end with a single encounter. As long as Eugene or Molon didn’t die, they could repeat their clash over and over again. Even if it took them to the brink of death, they could always rely on the healing of Kristina and Anise.

He had thought there was nothing left to add to his combat senses. Now, he knew it had been absurd arrogance. Although Hamel had indeed survived many battles in the past, what Eugene considered the extreme was not the absolute limit.

He saw it not as engraving a known sensation but as discovering anew. It was a new discovery.

He recalled Agaroth’s divinity and intuition and blended both Hamel and Eugene’s experiences into one. Then, he poured Hamel and Eugene into Agaroth’s combat techniques. He fused everything in his mind to a sublime unity.

Through this process, over months, he now was certain.

He emerged from the cave.

Molon greeted him with a grin as he rose from the ground and swung his left arm.

"That was close, Hamel,” said Molon.

Eugene had sustained broken limbs, but Molon had only injured his left arm.

However, comparatively, Eugene felt the wounds he had inflicted were far graver. Although his limbs had been broken, they had still been attached. On the other hand, Eugene's blade had nearly severed Molon's arm.

"Since it's nearly evening, let's keep this session short," Eugene said.

"Agreed." Molon laughed heartily while hefting his axe.

Kristina, who had followed Eugene out, could hardly understand the emotion that allowed them to laugh off such brutal sparring once it was over.

[There's no need to understand, Kristina. I too cannot fathom their madness, and Sienna wouldn't be able to either,] said Anise.

[You don’t need to be concerned about that girl. Too many wizards follow Sienna, so she's probably sitting comfortably among her disciples in Aroth. What matters now is us, not Sienna,] said Anise.

But Anise interrupted her with a shout, [Kristina! That is not what I am referring to. Three months have passed since Sienna went to Aroth, and we've done nothing with Hamel!]

She crossed herself to banish the insidious desires clouding her mind while Anise heaved frustrated sighs.ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ ɴovel(ꜰ)ɪre.nᴇt

***

Meanwhile, in Aroth.

"I want to become a goddess."

The Wise Sienna, a figure who could be considered the mother of all wizards of this era, sat alone in the high seat. Her chin was propped on her hand as she murmured to herself.