Damn Reincarnation

Kill each other until only half of you remain.

The command needed no complex thoughts to decipher.

Half. Meaning, the hundred demons assembled in this hall — reduce that number to fifty. Unless one was contemplating self-destruction, the Demon King of Incarceration was commanding them to kill the demon standing next to them.

It was a straightforward command, yet not a single demon could grasp the sudden decree and act accordingly.

Of course, this was only to be expected. The declaration of the Demon King was shockingly sudden. The Palace of Babel had opened after a hundred years. Today was supposed to be a gathering of the top one hundred ranked demons to celebrate the appointment of the new Staff of the Demon King.

But out of the blue, they were commanded to slay each other. Even for the bloodthirsty and violence-craving demons, comprehending this command was challenging. It deviated too far from the expected edict.

"Aha."

Not everyone was at a loss, though. There was at least one who understood.

However, her actions were delayed not because of misunderstanding but because an eerie exhilaration made her shiver in anticipation. Darkness surged beneath the feet of Noir Giabella, then elongated into a sharp spear and pierced through the forehead of a demon standing at the far end of the room.

It didn't stop there. After piercing through the brain and skull, the spear expanded, opening wide like a gaping mouth. The darkness swallowed the demon whole.

"What are you all doing?" Noir Giabella tasted the sweet blood in her mouth. She laughed as her lips grew redder.

"The Demon King of Incarceration himself permitted it. Don't overthink it, hmm? Three hundred years — no, even before that, this was something our kind used to revel in,” said Noir.

Noir rose to her feet while laughing merrily. Then, she casually sat down midair, crossing her legs in a sensual posture.

"A massacre. A scramble for ranks disregarding all formalities. You may even consider it a territorial war. You get to claim the power, soul, territory, existence, everything of the one you kill,” she continued enticingly.

The scent of the dead demon's blood filled the palace. One by one, the demons rose.

Those who had experienced the era of wars gleamed with nostalgia in their eyes. The younger ones who hadn't experienced the era of wars gritted their teeth with ambition for the higher ranks and the fervor to directly prove their might before the Demon King of Incarceration.

The inhuman beings began to slaughter each other. Enormous and wild surges of Dark Power clashed repeatedly, yet the palace did not shake at all. Even amidst the tempest of Dark Power raging right next to them, neither Noir Giabella nor Gavid Lindman felt so much as a fluttering breeze.

"None of them have any gusto,” Noir said while licking her lips, watching the massacre with disappointment.

Just moments before, she had received the gazes of many filled with desire. Yet, not a single demon dared approach her the moment the massacre was permitted.

This, too, was only natural.

Noir Giabella, the Queen of the Night Demons — was second-ranked among the great demons. Even then, she was considered second only because Noir did not contest with Gavid. In truth, the various demons of Helmuth believed that the Queen of the Night Demons was the strongest of them all. No matter how thirsty for blood the demons were, they weren't foolish enough to throw themselves into a predetermined battle.

"You won't participate?" Noir asked, turning to Gavid with a soft smile.

He remained kneeling, showing no interest in the unfolding battle behind him. His attention was solely on the Demon King of Incarceration.

"What reason is there for me to do so?" he countered.

"Don't you want to kill me?" she asked.

"I cannot say I've never considered it, but not now. Do you desire to kill me?" asked Gavid.

"I am like you. I can't say I've never had such thoughts, but not now," as she spoke, Noir raised her head. Still standing on the stairs was the Demon King of Incarceration. His unreadable eyes calmly looked over the battles of the many demons.

The few words he had spoken had caused the hundred strongest demons to tear into each other, yet his face betrayed no trace of satisfaction or thrill.

Why should he feel thrilled?

If the Demon King of Incarceration wished it, he could command not only a hundred demons to be slaughtered but for blood to spill across the entire continent.

'Why would he suddenly give such an order?'

Noir was curious about his reasoning. The population of Helmuth had grown excessively after the era of wars. While there were strict restrictions in place now, when Helmuth first became an empire, the Demon King of Incarceration had opened its borders and increased the populace of Helmuth through a lenient, friendly, and welfare-based immigration policy.

The Demon King of Incarceration had been able to do such a thing because he was omnipotent.

All the demonfolks were under his control. He provided a home for many demonic beasts returning from across the continent. Using his power, he divided the land. Using his power, he transformed the sea into land. He expanded the territory of Helmuth as the population increased. He laid down dark-power cables across Helmuth with his power and erected black towers to develop Helmuth further.

Under this almighty ruler, Helmuth became the greatest empire in history for three hundred years. It could easily fill its borders with people wanting to immigrate to this prosperous empire. The immigrants weren’t only limited to those from other races, either. Rather, the number of demons also increased at a rapid pace after Helmuth became an empire.

The reason was simple. There were no wars, and they didn't kill each other. Those who killed because of hatred, the mere desire to kill, or because they coveted what others had, were disciplined by the Demon King of Incarceration under his strict rule.

Now, demons had to go through strict procedures to engage in ranking and territory disputes, and with just that, the death rate of demonfolks significantly decreased.

'...Too many in numbers? It's not like he didn't know. He was the one who made it so.'

What was he trying to do?

Noir didn't have long to ponder as the massacre gradually settled down.

Amelia Merwin remained silent, doing nothing. She was curious about the sudden slaughter taking place behind her, and it piqued her interest, but that did not mean Amelia should participate in the dance.

—Demons, kill each other until only half of you remain.

Amelia was a black wizard, but she wasn’t a demon. The same was true for the Death Knight. The undead were not demons. Neither was Hemoria, the chimera.

"You held up well,” Amelia murmured in a low voice.

The words were meant for the Death Knight kneeling right behind her.

He was a fraud created from the projection of the body and memories of Hamel, who had died three centuries earlier. Yet, the Death Knight believed himself to be Hamel.

In the war at the Samar Forest — the Death Knight lost his body. Yet, his soul didn't disappear but returned to Amelia and took residence in a new body she crafted. Now that his body — the only real thing about him — had been destroyed, nothing Hamel-like remained in him. Both his soul and memories were counterfeit. Yet, the Death Knight still believed himself to be Hamel, maintained an identity like Hamel, blindly trusted his tainted memories, and harbored a counterfeit fury and hatred born from false memories of revenge.

He wanted to kill the demons. He didn't want to kneel to the Demon King but wanted to kill him.

While he held such desires, his revenge and hatred for his comrades' betrayal, borne from the counterfeit memory, took precedence. When Amelia commanded his wavering, hesitating body, he ended up kneeling as if to console himself that it was an unavoidable choice for revenge.

‘Damn it, damn it, damn it….’

He could not remain calm. The Death Knight was fuming. He felt a great rage inside him, an emotion that felt like it would drive him mad. Yet even in his rage, he found relief in the fury and humiliation of the moment.

The current situation and the fact that he could feel such emotions in front of his past enemies affirmed his existence and identity.

"It's over," The Demon King of Incarceration said after a while. He didn't come down the stairs further as he looked around the battlefield filled with the stench of blood.

One hundred demons became fifty, as ordered by the Demon King. Most of those who survived were the old demons from the war era, but among them stood a few young demons who had not experienced war.

"I will give a gift to those of you who have survived,” the Demon King of Incarceration said as he descended the stairs. "A part of my Dark Power. It's merely a gift, so it won't bind you by contract. There's no need for that. After all, every demon possessing the citizenship of Helmuth will end up in my arms upon death."

"Your Majesty...?!" Gavid could not hide his surprise as he raised his head.

As the Demon King of Incarceration had said, the Demon King did not need to sign a contract with the demons under his rule. That was why there was no need to provide power as “compensation” for a contract. Even Gavid, who possessed the Demoneye of Divine Glory, had not directly contracted with the Demon King of Incarceration. It was merely a gift from the Demon King of Incarceration for one of his subjects.

The Demon King was bestowing his power as a gift to the demons. This would elevate the status of the demons by several levels. Moreover, he was bestowing such a gift on not one but fifty demons. This was a privilege unheard of even during the war era.

"It's not your power,” said the Demon King of Incarceration with a smile. "It's the power that I have gifted you. Just as I freely gave it, I can freely take it back."

The expressions of the demons, who had been lost in glorious joy, changed one by one.

"You will not be able to employ my gifted powers in the clash between demons. It wouldn't be fair, after all. Such battles are meant to prove one's worth through their own strength. That’s how things worked with demons, from a very… very long time ago.”

His slow steps finally reached the floor of the ninety-first level. In that instant, the scenery of the battlefield, strewn with blood-soaked corpses, transformed completely. However, it didn't return to the pristine state of the hall from earlier.

"Ah...!" Gavid trembled, letting out a moan as he took in the new sight. Even Noir licked her lips with sparkling eyes.

A massive door covered with hundreds of padlocks came into view. It was the same door that led to the Demon King's chamber, the palace in the Babel of three centuries ago. The space, which had been filled with the brief, small traces of a massacre, now bore the marks of eons. Each etching and marking harbored an uncountable number of events.

“If you lose, you are stripped of your power, soul, territory, and existence. In other words, the victor gains all that the loser possessed. This law still exists in the present Demon World, but... we shall do away with unnecessary and tedious procedures,” said the Demon King of Incarceration.

"How about handkerchiefs or gloves?" Noir, who had been listening quietly, asked with a bright smile. "Like when humans duel. With a handkerchief in your pocket, wearing gloves…. Hehe, doing this every time might be somewhat bothersome. But any method would be simpler than the current one."

"I'll adopt that,” answered the Demon King.

"Great. Very good. Or how about exchanging messages for a duel? We are doing that now, but preparing the paperwork for a duel is quite bothersome, and it also requires separate approval…. Hmm, since you mentioned abolishing procedures, we should be able to kill each other, even with just a hastily written note,” continued Noir.

"I'll adopt that,” answered the Demon King.

"What should determine victory is indeed life and death, right? Surrendering... umm... how disgraceful, how shameful. Who would do such a thing? Ah, but I believe we need referees. For the ranked battles…. Hehe, to ensure the duels where we kill each other are fair. Your Majesty, if you ever need it, feel free to command me, Noir Giabella. There are plenty of Night Demons under my command. My children can perform the role of a referee without any problem." Noir lifted the hem of her skirt and bowed with a graceful pose.

The Demon King of Incarceration turned his gaze away from Noir towards the demons.

"As I've said, the hierarchy battles will change to be simple. You who remain here have received power from me, but you cannot use my power in your own hierarchy battles or in battles with other demons currently not present. Therefore, do not become complacent. Be aware that what you currently enjoy can be taken away at any moment.”

Ching!

The many chains dragging behind the Demon King of Incarceration coagulated to form a throne.

The Demon King of Incarceration sat on the throne made of chains, supporting his chin with the back of his hand.

"There is bound to be confusion with sudden changes, but I do not wish for great chaos. In particular, I do not wish for the “common” citizens of the Empire to be bewildered and anxious."

"Stripping of existence means taking away the associated contracts as well. Higher-ranked demons are bound to have numerous contracts with common citizens. You are free to carry out ranked battles, but the subsequent tidying up must be done flawlessly,” commanded the Demon King.

"I believe a mediator could handle the arrangement of contracts. If you grant me, Noir Giabella, the exclusive right to mediate, it shall be done,” Noir chimed in.

There was a sudden amendment to the hierarchy battle system. Until now, the role of a mediator in hierarchy battles was taken up by prestigious higher-ranked demons or officials dispatched from Babel.

But in the future, there would be many more hierarchy battles. Moreover, the battles would present many more considerations and consequences. In other words, the role of the mediator would become even more crucial.

For hundreds of years, the most successful businessman in Helmuth had been Noir Giabella.

She smelled immense profit in this new business — the mediation system. It was bound to be so since it wasn’t a private enterprise but a business run directly by the empire, by the Demon King of Incarceration himself. The Demon King of Incarceration was generous in such matters.

"Prepare and submit a plan,” he said.

"Yes, sir!" Noir bowed her head while imagining the suffocating scent of money and gold.

"Let's begin the appointment ceremony."

Finally, the Demon King of Incarceration's gaze landed on Amelia. Amelia knew she wouldn't be the star of this occasion, but she harbored no complaints about that.

Vladmir was a staff possessed by the Staff of Incarceration over the generations. Honestly, Amelia had never coveted Vladmir until now. She was fully confident in her own magic and power even without such a staff.

But now, she desperately wanted Vladmir. More than the power of the Demon King, she was extremely curious about the memories that remained in Vladmir.

Just what had transpired in the Samar Rainforest? ‘How’ had Edmund Codreth failed?

Amelia had a vague idea. Through the testimony of the Death Knight, she learned that Eugene Lionheart had intruded into the Rainforest.

However, the Death Knight had fallen too soon. She had not seen how Edmund had died.

Amelia was curious about the end of the ritual. Balzac Ludbeth was said to have been present. If Balzac had pulled some trick, and Edmund had noticed it, there would be clues left behind in Vladmir.

Vladmir was such a staff. While the souls of all the Staff of Incarceration returned to the Demon King, the memories of their owners stayed with Vladmir. That wicked and ominous staff consumed blood and stored memories.

"Amelia Merwin, come closer,” commanded the Demon King of Incarceration.

"Yes."

Amelia Merwin rose. Behind her, the Death Knight flinched, and Hemoria held her breath. The gleam in the Death Knight's eyes was directed at the Demon King of Incarceration.

Their eyes met momentarily, but the Demon King of Incarceration said nothing to the Death Knight. His eyes revealed no interest or emotion regarding the Death Knight.

The Death Knight, Hamel, had never made it to the Palace of Incarceration in his previous life. He had never seen that door filled with chains and locks. He had never faced the Demon King of Incarceration directly. His decaying, dying body had been brought down not by battle but by the betrayal and ridicule of his comrades.

The indifference and lack of emotion from the Demon King of Incarceration caused a profound sense of humiliation to rise within the Death Knight.

"Amelia Merwin."

The Demon King of Incarceration raised his hand without looking at the Death Knight. Vladmir flew towards Amelia from his side.

"From today, you are the Staff of Incarceration."

"Yes."

Amelia gave a thin smile as she received Vladmir with both hands.