Damn Reincarnation

Chapter 614: Vermouth Lionheart (6)

The Nur had been pouring forth without an end, but suddenly, they all froze in place before beginning to disappear in unison. It didn't take long for all the Nur to vanish without a trace, despite having filled the plains and the snowy mountains with heaps of corpses.

Those who had desperately held the front lines, facing death, and those who had supported them from behind to prevent the lines from being pushed back — all who had dominated the skies, the land, and the snowy fields — needed a moment to grasp the reason behind the sudden disappearance of the Nur.

"Is it over?" someone muttered belatedly.

Similar murmurs emerged from various parts of the battlefield. Soon, these murmurs turned into a great shout, and all the survivors cheered in delight.

It was over.

It was truly over. The army of the Demon King of Destruction, which had emerged as if to bring about the end of the world, had completely disappeared. As they cheered, everyone looked toward the Demon King of Destruction. The figure of the Demon King of Destruction no longer seemed grotesque or ominous. The dizzying colors had faded, and the dark power that had instilled fear in their hearts was no longer perceptible.

Carmen was gasping and huffing laboriously and barely clung to consciousness. Her heart felt as though it might burst, and her breathing would not settle.

Heaven Genocide, which could be called Carmen's trademark, had long since been shattered. The armor that had earned her the epithet of the Dragon Lion was the same. With her weapon in such a state, her bare hands fared no better. She could no longer even clench her blood-soaked hands. They hung limply at her sides as she looked at the Demon King of Destruction.

Vague figures appeared in the fading colors. Five... no, six? Carmen strained her eyes to discern the figures but to no avail.

"Why are there six of them?" Gilead asked while barely holding onto a broken sword.

Alchester lifted his head to look ahead, even as blood kept dripping from his mouth.

"The Demon King of Incarceration was in there, wasn't he?" he said.

Four heroes had gone in to kill the Demon King of Destruction: Eugene Lionheart, Sienna Merdein, Molon Ruhr, and Kristina Rogeris. If they had succeeded in their mission to rescue the Great Vermouth, as hoped, there should have been five.... If counting the Demon King of Incarceration, then perhaps... six. Though, the Demon King of Incarceration could hardly be called a hero. Still, he had sacrificed himself a week ago to temporarily seal the Demon King of Destruction.

Gion attempted to count the numbers in his head but suddenly felt dizzy and collapsed to the ground. His mental state was so poor that he couldn’t even count simple numbers correctly.

"It must have ended, right?" Gion asked with desperate hope. It was a sentiment shared by everyone.

"Why is the Demon King of Incarceration standing so close to them?" Lovellian expressed his doubt after descending from the sky.

It was a valid question. The veil of colors was still fading, and the figures of the heroes were still not clearly visible beyond it. Yet, even if they were just wavering shadows, it was evident how they were standing together.

"Arms around each other’s shoulders?" Ivatar muttered under his breath. He had already collapsed a while ago.

Arms around each other’s shoulders? Raphael leaped down from Apollo upon hearing those words.

"God has subdued the Demon King!" Raphael could not help but shout. He was feeling overwhelmed by surging faith.

Subdued? Everyone squinted and stared at the shadows after hearing Raphael’s sudden exclamation. It was a hard thing to believe unless one of them was kneeling. But none of the six visible shadows appeared to be on their knees. Perhaps Raphael’s pain and fatigue had clouded his judgment.

'That wing must belong to Saint Kristina... and that large figure must be Lord Molon....'

'But who is the other one?'

Those unaware of Anise's existence began speculating amongst themselves.

"Perhaps they become friends with the Demon King of Incarceration inside...?” Melkith suggested.

"Stop talking nonsense," Hiridus, the Blue Tower Master, quickly reproached her.

"What’s so nonsensical about it? After fighting like this, camaraderie could sprout..." Melkith scoffed in response while lying sprawled on the ground.

"I see it now..."

There was no longer any need for guesswork as the figures became clearer.

"Clap, clap, clap," Carmen uttered without a hint of embarrassment.

She had opened her mouth to mimic the sound of clapping when she realized she could not produce a loud enough clap with her tattered hands. Right beside her, Gilead stared at her while she demonstrated her unique ability to produce a sound with mouth claps but could not think of it as strange behavior.

Instead, Gilead was deeply touched and overwhelmed and called out, "Lady Carmen...!"

He wanted to cry. It would be none other than Carmen who must be feeling the most sorrow at the moment. She would have wanted to applaud loudly enough to shake the world, but she couldn’t. Thus, Gilead raised his arms high for all to see in her stead.

Clap, clap, clap!

He spread his arms wide and thundered applause across the battlefield. Soon after, Gion, Gilford, and all the Lionhearts began clapping. The applause began with them but quickly spread across the entire battlefield. Everyone approached the vanishing form of the Demon King of Destruction while clapping and cheering.

"Uwaaaaaah!"

The names echoed in the cheers were not unified. Some shouted for Eugene Lionheart, others for Sienna Merdein, some for Molon Ruhr, and still some others for Kristina Rogeris. Among the names shouted was also that of Vermouth Lionheart. Amid the applause and cheers, the heroes’ forms became visible.

Uwaaaah....

Clap, clap, clap, clap....

The applause and cheers gradually died down. It had to. The sight of the emerging heroes was truly shocking. Even a child would look at the heroes now and wonder: Why are they like that?

Wow....

Clap, clap, clap....

But no one could ask about it. The overwhelming emotion of awe far exceeded any confusion or dismay. The slowly fading applause and cheers regained strength and momentum and grew in volume once more.

"En-enough."

It was Eugene who found it too much to bear. He dropped his stiff smile and lowered his arms from around his companions. Vermouth stepped aside as if he had been waiting for this cue.

But Sienna did not step back. She stubbornly embraced Eugene's shoulder, and so did Kristina and Anise from either side of Sienna. The three wanted to affirm their relationship in a photo that would surely be recounted for a thousand years in front of everyone.

"Oh, come on,” Eugene complained.

"Why are you complaining after you asked for this?" retorted Sienna.

"When did I ever ask for this?" Eugene questioned.

"Do you perhaps feel ashamed of us?” Anise shot back.

"No, what nonsense are you talking about? Can't you see their expressions?" Eugene countered.

"I only see Sir Eugene's face,” Kristina whispered, her cheeks blushing slightly.

They were sweet words, but why did they send a chill down his spine? Eugene shivered and stepped sideways with a cough.

"Ahem..."

His call to stop had silenced the cheers and applause. But now, instead of the sounds, he was left with the burden of everyone's weighty stares. None of the general staff in the vicinity was unscathed. Yet, they did not think of tending to their wounds and instead stared intently at Eugene and his companions. Many more people crowded around while also gazing earnestly in the direction from where the heroes emerged.

They were undoubtedly filled with many questions. Was the Demon King of Destruction truly dead? Would it never appear again? Eugene could sense even more questions, but he shifted his gaze.

All of the Lionhearts looked as though they might burst into tears at any moment — no, more than half were already shedding them. They swallowed the sobs that threatened to burst forth as they looked at Eugene and Vermouth.

"Hey," Eugene said, glancing sideways.

He intended to encourage Vermouth to say something — but there was no need. Vermouth’s expression spoke volumes more than words. His golden eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and a gentle smile played on his lips.

What must he be feeling?

For Vermouth, the Lionheart family was something he created out of necessity. He had never enjoyed being called the Hero or the Great Vermouth. But the reason Vermouth had not lost himself within the dark heart of Destruction wasn't just the talk he had with his companions. It was because they, his descendants, had all called out his name.

"I am Vermouth Lionheart,” Vermouth spoke aloud after a bit.

Three hundred years ago, after ending the war with the Oath and returning to the Kiehl Empire, like his companions, the Great Vermouth did not indulge in banquets or social gatherings.

Despite a swift marriage and numerous concubines, there was never a scandal outside the family. He expanded his family, almost like an obsession, built the Black Lion Castle in the Uklas Mountains, and watched over the empire’s borders as the Grand Duke of Kiehl. There were hardly any stories passed down about the man known not as the Great Vermouth but as Vermouth Lionheart. He was a man suited to the word iron-blooded.

That was how he was known to the world, and to the Lionhearts. But there he was — Vermouth Lionheart — his voice trembling as he spoke his name in front of his distant descendants.

"Thank you,” Vermouth said, struggling to continue. He closed his eyes as tears streaked down his cheeks and sobbed, “For not forgetting me."

How could they forget? Yet no one dared to ask. With dripping tears, Carmen placed her hand over her left chest atop the emblem that symbolized the Lionheart family. And all followed suit, placing their hands over their chests in respect to Vermouth. Should he do the same? Eugene pondered briefly before placing his hand on Vermouth's shoulder instead.

"So... let's see...." Eugene trailed off as he organized his thoughts.

What should he say first? What he truly desired now was a clean wash, a locked door, and a long sleep in bed. But first, the story needed a conclusion.

"As you can see, the Demon King of Destruction is dead,” Eugene declared.

A roar of inevitable cheers erupted. Eugene allowed the cheers to wash over him for several minutes.

"The Demon King of Incarceration is also dead," he continued.

Where did the Demon King of Incarceration go?

Eugene prevented any questions by declaring, "By the time we stormed in, the Demon King of Incarceration had exhausted all his strength in holding the Demon King of Destruction. He was already dying. He thanked us before he died."

The Demon King of Incarceration had reigned as the Greater Demon King and the emperor of the Helmuth Empire for a long time. Even though he had surrendered his empire and pledged allegiance to the victors after losing in the war, the actual death of the Demon King of Incarceration left everyone speechless.

"And here... uh... some of you might have noticed," Eugene said hesitatingly.

The enigmatic sixth member of the group had forced guesses about her identity. Eugene pointed at Anise, who was floating behind Kristina.

"This is Anise. Anise Slywood,” he said.

"The Light sent me,” answered Anise.

In the now silent battlefield where cheers and applause had halted, Anise spread her wings wide for all to see. Conscious of the stunned expressions of Raphael and the priests, she continued, "I have been watching over the world for a long time. And only today have I come down to join you in a miracle."

"Ahhh...."

"I was able to descend as an angel long after my death because your prayers were fervent and because of the faithful belief of Saint Kristina Rogeris, who I consider a sister in spirit. It was also because, after three hundred years, my friends wished for a miracle,” she explained.

Anise smiled benevolently as she spun her tale. She had no intention of ever letting the world know that she had been with Kristina all along. Kristina had always conducted herself with a fervent zeal, such as during the Knight March, and the scandals involving Eugene were well-known. She wanted nothing to do with these memories.

Thus, Anise maintained her smile without changing her expression and shifted all blame onto Kristina.

"Ah, indeed...! The voice echoing in my head was Lady Anise’s all along!" Kristina shouted.

If she allowed Anise to continue, she would be left to take the sole blame like a scapegoat. But Kristina was now a fully grown serpent. She had no intention of dying alone.

"I have heard Lady Anise's voice so many times! Ah, indeed, indeed it was true. The reason I acted out of character was that I was enchanted by Lady Anise's voice...!" continued Kristina.

"Enchanted...?! I have never bestowed upon you any divine revelation to bewitch you,” Anise retorted.

"Lady Anise! Do not put me to the test. Do not let my lips part unwittingly to utter your revelations,” Kristina said with a smile.

"What are you trying to say...?" Anise muttered.

"Which bed Lady Anise has lain in, whose warmth she has sought.... Ah, ahah!" Kristina stopped midway and raised her hands in prayer. Anise disappeared inside Kristina’s body while screaming.

"This is the end,” Eugene said, trying to take control of the speech once more.

The murmuring was growing uncontrollably. Eugene felt the inevitable chaos and stepped back.

"It’s tough for everyone but... uh...," he trailed off.

He was hit with a sudden thought.

It was natural for everyone who fought against Destruction to feel weary. But surely the ones who had endured the most were the ones inside the Demon King of Destruction, the ones responsible for killing it. They were the ones most weary.

Eugene glanced at the sky. The sun he had created earlier was still there, and beside it was Raimira. She was unable to descend to the ground due to the crowd. Eugene exchanged glances with Sienna, and their thoughts aligned. Then, he whispered to Raimira, "Drop them."

He was referring to the wizards and priests on her back. Raimira’s eyes widened in shock, but she quickly obeyed Eugene’s command. With a scream of surprise, the wizards and priests fell, but not to the ground, as spells of Draconic gently caught them. Simultaneously, Eugene unleashed his divine power.

"Let the emperor, the pope, and other high-ranking officials take care of the aftermath," he ordered.

The divine power flowing through the sun worked miracles of healing. Simultaneously, Sienna’s magic transported Eugene and his companions onto Raimira’s back.

"Wait, just a moment! Eugene!" Gilead reached out in shock, but Eugene ignored him.

"Let’s go,” he declared.

"Wh-where are we going?" Raimira asked.

"Anywhere but here,” Eugene answered.

He thought they could slip back in about a month when things had settled and sprawled himself out on Raimira’s back.