< The Tomb >

The death knight rose without revealing who he was. But the menace lurking deep within those pitch-black eyes, and the mere fact that Amelia had dropped to one knee, left little doubt that this death knight was the Demon King of Incarceration.

"Eugene Lionheart."

The death knight's lips parted. The voice that emerged from its maw was as hoarse as before, but it carried a power beyond anything it had possessed earlier. The instant Eugene heard it, his heart, which had been racing as though it might burst, went cold. The cold sweat trickling down his spine felt like shards of ice.

"I have seen you through Balzac Ludbeth's eyes."

The death knight.

The Demon King murmured.

"Have you come to offer flowers to your ancestor's dear friend?"

"..."

"You have seen it yourself, so you must know. The master of this tomb is Hamel Dynas. Known to the world as Hamel the Stupid, yet never stupid at all. Among the companions of my 'dear' Vermouth, he was especially gifted and strong—a man Vermouth kept at his side."

What the hell did you know to be spouting that bullshit? Eugene barely suppressed the shout threatening to burst from his mouth. He bit his lip so hard that it split, blood streaming down. With bloodshot eyes, he glared at the Demon King.

"I understand your hostility."

Murderous intent. Even with Eugene openly radiating it, the Demon King showed no displeasure.

"Vermouth and I truly understood one another and forged a friendship. But it would be absurd to force a bond from three hundred years ago upon his distant descendants. I shall respect the Lionhearts as the descendants of my friend, but I will not demand your respect in return."

"..."

"Though we have never met in person, Eugene Lionheart, I know well how exceptional you are. Three hundred years have passed since Vermouth. I have seen many Lionhearts, but I believe you have inherited his blood more strongly than any of them."

"... Ha."

Eugene let out a laugh of sheer disbelief. Dear Vermouth? Respect? Everything the Demon King had said was absurd, but this latest claim was even more ridiculous.

"... Lionheart. Yes, of course."

Amelia sneered, still kneeling on one knee.

"Gray hair, golden eyes. A Lionheart of Kiel."

She glared at the Demon King through narrowed eyes.

"To think you would grace this wretched place in person, using a mere death knight as your vessel. Demon King of Incarceration, how am I to take this?"

"You are free to take it however you wish."

"But I would have to bear responsibility for that freedom, wouldn't I? Don't tease me, Demon King of Incarceration. Have you come here to protect that wicked lion?"

"He is my friend's descendant."

As he spoke, the Demon King turned his gaze toward her. Amelia's eyes wavered slightly as they met those black eyes. She raised a hand to conceal the veil fluttering with her quickening breaths.

"... For that alone, you would suppress my freedom—the freedom you respect?"

"Amelia Merwin. I hold you dear and respect you, but not as dearly or as deeply as I do Vermouth."

"Vermouth is dead."

"Yet his bloodline has continued unbroken. Eugene Lionheart in particular... In him, I see the Vermouth of long ago."

Those words only inflamed Eugene's emotions further. He imagined how that bastard of a Demon King would react if he unleashed a torrent of curses at him right here. Hadn't he said he wouldn't demand respect? Then surely Eugene was free to swear at him?

"... You respect a ghost who croaked three hundred years ago... more than me, standing here alive?"

Amelia's emotions had been stirred as well. Eyes wide, she tried to rise, but her body refused to obey. It sank back down instead. Surprise crossed her face, but she did not groan. Instead, she glared at the Demon King with even greater venom.

"You... dare do this... to me...!"

"Your freedom must not overstep your reverence for me," the Demon King said.

"Amelia Merwin. Whatever you did in Hamel's tomb, I respected your freedom. But if you intend to harm Vermouth's descendant, I cannot accept that. At least, not now."

"... At least?"

Eugene did not miss those words. He raised his eyes and glared at the Demon King.

"What does that mean?"

"Insolent brat."

Amelia spat the words with a scowl, displeased by Eugene's lack of respect toward the Demon King.

"Vermouth is dead," the Demon King said.

"To me, it does not feel so long ago... but three hundred years is a long time indeed for humans. I believe I have shown his descendants ample goodwill and respect over those three hundred years."

The Demon King's voice deepened. Amelia no longer showed displeasure. Instead, she watched him with eyes full of anticipation.

"I accepted their refusal to show me goodwill or respect as their freedom. But it is troublesome when continued goodwill is mistaken for a right. I reign over countless demonic beasts and demons. I am the king of Helmuth."

With every word the Demon King spoke, Eugene's heart constricted. He endured his repeatedly choking breaths and glared at the Demon King. He did not kneel. He had no reason to, nor any desire.

"Freedom must come with responsibility. Freedom without responsibility is merely license. Descendant of Vermouth, convey this to the Lionhearts—to all of them. Do not overstep the goodwill I extend to you. If you will not revere me, I shall no longer respect you."

A warning.

Eugene understood it perfectly. For centuries, the Demon King of Incarceration had refrained from invading the world, extending goodwill and respect to other nations. He had done so even with Eward's case just two years ago.

To the Demon King of Incarceration, Eward's affair had been utterly insignificant. Even so, he had resolved it 'peacefully.' Balzac Ludbeth, who was contracted directly to the Demon King, had bowed his head to the Lionheart family head, and the incubus who had tried to enter into a contract with Eward had been beheaded.

Nor was it limited to the Lionhearts. In the three hundred years since the promise, countless people around the world had remained wary of Helmuth's demons and Demon Kings. The nearby Holy Empire and the allied demon-subjugating nations had repeatedly proclaimed their resolve to conquer Helmuth and kill the Demon Kings.

Of course, they had never actually done so, but there had been repeated shows of force. Even now, the Holy Empire's troops were stationed along Helmuth's borders, and the forces of the demon-subjugating alliance stood with them.

Helmuth—the Demon King of Incarceration—tolerated it. For three hundred years, demons had worked to improve their image, yet they still suffered persecution in parts of the continent.

To Eugene, that was punishment they deserved. He knew how horrific the world had been three hundred years ago.

But Helmuth's demons would not see it that way.

Perhaps neither would the Demon King of Incarceration.

"... Why say this now?"

Eugene forced the words out between labored breaths. Why issue a warning now, after remaining silent for three hundred years?

"Your ancestor made a promise in exchange for freedom, and its end now approaches. The time will come when the wheel that has stood still begins to turn again."

"..."

"Someday... another promise must be made. Who will take Vermouth's place, make that promise, and stop the wheel?"

"... What the hell is that promise?"

Eugene demanded again. The Demon King was silent for a moment, then moved 'Hamel's' lips into a faint smile.

"You have no right to know."

"..."

"For you are not Vermouth."

"... My ancestor died three hundred years ago."

"You seem to resent your ancestor."

"..."

"Stupid lion."

Those words made Eugene's body twitch. Without thinking, he tried to lunge at the Demon King, but his body would not obey. The Demon King watched him twitch and continued.

"Your existence, your soul. All of it could be born in this age, three hundred years later, because Vermouth made that promise."

"... What?"

"Amelia Merwin."

The Demon King no longer looked at Eugene. Eugene desperately tried to force out his voice, but no sound came. The power that had constricted his heart was now squeezing his throat.

"Return to your dungeon."

"... There are still things that brat must tell me."

"You will hear nothing from him."

"That's absurd...! My pet is dead. And that door...!"

"There is nothing beyond it."

As he spoke, the Demon King extended his hand toward the door. The closed door crumbled to dust and vanished.

Raman still lay unconscious on the floor. At the sight of him, Amelia wore an expression of disbelief.

"Nothing happened here," the Demon King said again.

Amelia wanted to protest, but she could not defy the Demon King's gaze.

"... Demon King of Incarceration. Have you taken a liking to that body?"

"I shall return it."

"Are you sure? He is a friend of Vermouth, whom you cherish so dearly, isn't he?"

"I do not hold Hamel dear."

Amelia burst into laughter at his reply. She straightened her bent knee and nodded, then glared at Eugene.

"... You were lucky."

"..."

"Next time, you won't be as lucky as you were today."

Questions about this place remained. Amelia tried reading the mana's memories, just in case, but it was exactly as the Demon King of Incarceration had said. Those memories had been erased, making it as though nothing had happened here. Such a feat would hardly count as an effort for him, but she wondered why he would go to such lengths to protect that young lion.

'Next time...'

Amelia slowly turned away. The Demon King of Incarceration had made his intentions clear. She, too, knew nothing of the promise's terms, but she chose to attach greater significance to his warning than to the promise itself.

For now, she could do nothing to that brat. But someday... the promise would end, and the time would come when matters would no longer end with a warning.

Amelia Merwin departed. The Demon King of Incarceration, who had briefly descended into the death knight's body, left as well.

Even so, Eugene remained there for a long time. He had never knelt to the Demon King of Incarceration, not even at the end. He still refused. Though the Demon King was gone, Eugene forced himself to remain upright. He wanted neither to collapse nor to sit.

"... Aaaaargh!"

He stood like that for a long time, trying to bring his emotions under control.

In the end, he could not contain himself and screamed. He stamped the ground over and over, then slammed his fist into the cracked wall. He paid no heed to his exhausted body or his injuries. Again and again, he screamed in rage and lashed out.

"Fucking bastard."

After raging for a while, his anger subsided a little. Panting heavily, Eugene sank to the ground.

'He knows who I am.'

Stupid lion.

He could not have said that casually.

'My existence and soul... All of it exists because of Vermouth's promise? What does that mean?'

Could it be that Vermouth had made a promise to the Demon King in exchange for his reincarnation? That was absurd. Perhaps even that cold bastard had some tender feeling buried deep in his heart and could not abandon a dead companion. But if he had truly acted for Hamel's sake, killing the Demon King should have taken priority over reincarnation.

'That promise was a peace treaty to begin with. It wasn't centered on my reincarnation.'

Hadn't the Demon King of Incarceration said it himself? What Vermouth had gained in exchange for the promise was 'freedom.'

'The end of the promise... the stopped wheel. That fucking Incarceration bastard. Trying to sound profound just because he's a Demon King?'

The more he thought about it, the more his blood boiled. Should he have charged in without considering the consequences? He had dozens, hundreds of curses to hurl at the bastard. Should he have just let them fly?

["I do not hold Hamel dear."]

"I hate you too, you son of a bitch."

Eugene spat the words and ground his teeth. In the end, he had failed to destroy the corpse of his past life, now a death knight. Well, yes. There was nothing he could do about that. Surely his reincarnated body mattered more than the already-dead corpse of his former life.

'Lucky, was I? So were you. Next time, I'll kill you.'

The Demon King of Incarceration had not killed Eugene.

He had spared him despite presumably knowing he was Hamel. He had not even asked what lay beyond that door.

["Who will take Vermouth's place, make that promise, and stop the wheel?"]

'I have no intention of making any damned promise.'

With that thought, Eugene reached into his cloak.

'Why stop the wheel? If it's rolling somewhere shitty, you don't stop it. You smash it.'

If Vermouth, rather than Senya or Anise, had been involved in this reincarnation...

'You, of all people, wouldn't expect that bullshit from me.'

Eugene withdrew his hand from his cloak. In it lay a dried leaf—the leaf he had found in the room where the Moonlight Sword had been sealed.

Why would a fallen leaf be lying so deep underground, where there could be neither a tree nor even a single weed?

"... I'm having a really shitty thought."

Muttering those words, Eugene raised himself.

Two hundred years ago, after Vermouth's death, someone had broken into this tomb.

Senya had sensed something wrong with the tomb and come here from Akron. She had fought the intruder, then disappeared.

'A leaf of the World Tree.'

Eugene knew what this leaf was. A treasure Senya had prized more highly than Akasha. A leaf of the World Tree, the object of the elves' faith. It allowed its user to warp to the elven forest from anywhere.

If Senya had been cornered and used the World Tree's leaf to warp to the elven forest, then who could possibly have broken into this tomb and driven Senya of all people into such a desperate position?

'A lich's curse annihilates both body and soul.'

Eugene staggered to his feet.

'Anise? Or perhaps it was the Holy Sword's power. Either way, I wasn't annihilated.'

His corpse and soul.

They had been laid to rest in the tomb.

'Taking my corpse out of the coffin in that room... and moving it outside... The one who could have done that...'

Vermouth.

'... Faking your death... What reason did you have to go that far?'

Eugene believed it was Vermouth who had fought Senya here.

And he could not bear to believe it.