Chapter 353: The Door (3)

Chapter 353: The Door (3)

Eugene made several more attempts afterward, but he did not come to see another phantom. Even after making several changes to his attempts, he bore no fruit. He increased the intensity with which he knocked against his Core and made a purposeful attempt to be conscious of Agaroth’s Ring. Nothing happened.

“Revelations are strictly the will of the gods. No matter how fervently a human prays, the gods do not always respond,” Anise explained.

“Doesn’t the God of Light offer any advice?” Eugene asked, exasperated.

“Do you really think that stoic deity would offer counsel on such matters? Three hundred years ago, even in my most desperate moment in the battle against the Demon King of Incarceration, the God of Light offered no guidance.” Anise grinned while staring intently at Eugene’s face.

The most desperate moment — was it truly the battle against the Demon King of Incarceration? Or was it perhaps…? Eugene had two possibilities in mind, but he refrained from asking Anise.

Given Anise’s smirk, the answer was quite obvious. And that apparent answer invoked fear and guilt within Eugene.

“Ahem….” He cleared his throat before continuing, “Isn’t it a bit harsh that even an angel like you can’t communicate with the gods?”

“I might be called an angel, but I’m no different from a ghost. The only distinction might be that I can spread my wings and emit light,” Anise retorted with a bitter laugh.

It was true she had become an angel in death. But that didn’t mean she had met the God of Light directly. Yet, she certainly felt the presence of a god. The revelations Kristina received, as well as the appointment of Eugene Lionheart as the Hero, were definitely aligned with the will of the God of Light.

‘So that’s when it started,’ Eugene thought, his face scrunched in contemplation as he settled into his seat.

If Kristina hadn’t claimed it was a revelation and taken Eugene with her back then, if he hadn’t ventured into Vermouth’s tomb with Doynes and Gilead to open the coffin, and if the God of Light hadn’t sent that revelation, would they have really checked Vermouth’s coffin?

‘We would have eventually,’ Eugene surmised.

He had always harbored strong doubts about Vermouth’s death. No matter how much he contemplated, he couldn’t imagine that Vermouth simply died of old age.

But though he was curious, he wouldn’t have checked any time soon. After all, Eugene had not been in a place to act freely within the Black Lion Castle at the time.

“Are you still at it?” Ciel asked while entering the underground chamber. She shuddered involuntarily after glancing at Eugene sitting in the room’s center.

Flames.

Violet flames enveloped Eugene’s body. These silent, burning flames of mana rose past Eugene’s head and danced toward the ceiling. There was no heat, but the sheer force the flames emitted was overwhelming.

‘What is that?’ Ciel wondered.

She knew what was happening in this room. She hadn’t visited daily, not wanting to disturb his meditation, but a few days prior, she had come down to listen to Eugene’s request.

The flames had certainly been intense at that time but not nearly as overwhelmingly powerful as now. Ciel caught sight of Eugene with her mouth half-open but quickly composed her expression before taking a step forward.

“Has your White Flame Formula reached Seven Stars?” she inquired.

“Not yet,” Eugene answered.

“Not… yet?” Ciel was baffled even further by his response. The quality of the mana he emitted had risen glaringly compared to a few days before, and the force of his flames had magnified. Yet, he still wasn’t at Seven Stars?

“I’ve almost broken through, but it hasn’t formed a new Star yet,” Eugene explained.

He was certain he would have Seven Stars by tonight or tomorrow at the latest.

‘Still, I’ll have it done before we set sail,’ Eugene thought, relieved.

The only reason he could use such a method now was due to the complexity of Eugene’s White Flame Formula. This was the last time he’d be able to boost the White Flame Formula in such a way. There wouldn’t be another shortcut in the future.

“For now… I checked the library, but there’s scarce literature on the ancient gods. The few that exist scarcely mention Agaroth.” Saying so, Ciel took a seat in front of Eugene before continuing with her report, “I met with an expert in the field. One of the most renowned scholars who studies the folk religions of Shimuin.”

The God of War — no matter how one worded it, war was ultimately about killing and conquest. In that regard, Agaroth was an excellent slayer and conqueror. His very existence was war, and even his name embodied it. Why Agaroth waged such wars and obsessed over them was beyond understanding in this age. But one thing was clear — even amidst the tumultuous ancient times, Agaroth was among the few gods known for his brutality, always enveloped in the scent of blood. He had been a deity filled with madness.

“According to the scholar, Agaroth was a great conqueror. He never settled in one place and spent most of his life wandering,” continued Ciel.

Whenever one war ended, he ignited another. Eugene recalled the visions of battlefields filled with corpses he had seen in the Dark Room. The more he heard and learned, the more he became convinced that the scenes he witnessed were related to Agaroth.

“Did you hear anything about Agaroth’s sacred ground somewhere in the South Seas?” asked Eugene.

“There’s talk of it being ‘somewhere across the distant sea’… but its exact location remains unknown. There are rare archaeological discoveries on the uninhabited islands there, but nothing of significant value,” responded Ciel.

Eugene stared intently at the Ring of Agaroth on his left ring finger. If only he could receive another revelation like before. But unfortunately, Agaroth gave no further visions.

He pondered over the nature of Agaroth’s Ring. The first time the ring acted on its own was at the Fount of Light. The next had been in Ruhr when it lunged at Gavid Lindman. It was when he used the Holy Sword. Eugene reflected on the emotions he felt at that moment. Rage, hatred, murderous intent — all were forms of madness that raged in wartime. Eugene did not despise those emotions. Rather, he was all too familiar with such feelings.

‘They’re necessary,’ Eugene concluded.

He had pondered casting the ring aside entirely, but… there was no denying the boon it had granted him in dire times. Nor was there any guarantee that there wouldn’t be more of such moments to come.

‘I gained the ring by chance…’ Eugene contemplated everything he knew about the ring.

The reason Ariartel had gifted him the Ring of Agaroth was in hopes that it would aid in Eugene’s journey. Eugene had not found any need for any other armament, having already possessed various weapons from the Lionheart clan, those that had previously belonged to Vermouth. Thus, he had opted for the Ring of Agaroth.

Even Eugene had to agree it had been an impeccable choice.

He found greater allure in this ring. It could potentially stave off death, and it was infinitely better than some cumbersome armor that would only hamper his movement.

It was definitely possible that he had acquired the ring by chance.

‘But perhaps it was destined,’ Eugene thought.

The vast, distant seas, or Raguyaran — both represented the same enigma: a realm beyond human reach. What truly lay beyond, no one knew.

Would they be filled with monsters like the Nur, who gave off the same enigmatic feeling as the Demon King of Destruction?

Why were these countless creatures seeking to leave their domain, transcending boundaries to lay waste to this world?

Eugene clenched his hand.

Legends spoke of Agaroth’s sacred ground at the end of the southern seas. Eugene possessed Agaroth’s relic, and he had received visions…. Perhaps he could journey there one day.

No, he would need to head there one day.

***

Days before setting sail, a line of colossal ships docked at the shores of Shedor.

Even with the swiftest winds, a journey to the waters of Solgalta would take months.

Advanced magic had revolutionized trade, negating the need for large vessels for cargo. But magic couldn’t entirely defy the laws of nature, especially when it concerned living beings. Supplies for months-long journey could be magically compacted into smaller spaces.

However, such wasn’t the case for humans. Recklessly expanding space for habitation and encountering an issue mid-journey? Spatial magic concerning living beings always held the potential for catastrophe, demanding cautious and stringent handling.

Thus, the ships were vast, a necessity when ferrying hundreds of lives.

Most ships flew the same banner: an eagle spreading its wings above the waves, a symbol of the Shimuin royal family.

“The kingdom sure loves their eagles,” a voice murmured nearby.

“Look, the banner of Aroth is similar.”

“Not all eagles are the same. Aroth’s emblem has the eagle clutching a staff in its talons,” Sienna countered.

“Still, all just eagles at the end of the day.”

“The symbol of Kiehl is a dragon,” Ciel interjected with a smirk.

“Are you trying to boast about it being an empire? Well, I guess a dragon would be stronger than an eagle. It’s bigger. They can fly higher and wield magic as well,” Sienna grumbled, turning her gaze upwards.

Though most ships sported the royal banners, a few had different ensigns. Especially notable was a ship flying a banner with the depiction of a sword, spear, and arrow — a vessel that stood just as imposingly as the royal warships.

“That belongs to the Mercenary King, Ivic Slad,” Carmen informed. She cocked her head, eyes following the figurehead of a ship adorned with a dragon.

Upon it stood a man.

“That man there is Ivic.” Carmen pointed him out.

He had short golden locks and a dewy complexion. He wasn’t an immense hulk of a man like Molon, Ivatar, or Gargith. But slung across Ivic’s back was a bow as large as any weapon carried by the bulkier warriors.

“Sword, spear, and bow. Those are Ivic’s weapons of choice. I once crossed blades with him briefly. He’s not one to be taken lightly,” said Carmen.

“Well, isn’t he considered the second-best warrior in Shimuin?” Eugene mused, eyes narrowing as he observed Ivic from a distance.

The honor of being Shimuin’s strongest belonged to Ortus, the Commander of the Violent Tide Knights. The runner-up, or the second strongest, was Ivic.

“He is the second-ranked, but… in some ways, he’s even trickier to deal with than Ortus. The title of the first-ranked in Shimuin is typically reserved for direct descendants of the royal line, so Ivic, being a mercenary, could never attain it,” Carmen explained.

“So, you’re suggesting Ivic might be more skilled than Lord Ortus?” Eugene inquired.

“It’s hard to say. They’ve never truly fought with the intent to kill one another. But from my experience fighting both…. Well, if Ivic were to put some distance between us and start firing that bow with lethal intent, I’d find him a tad more challenging.” After a brief pause, Carmen hastily added, “That’s not to say he’s stronger than me, just trickier. The Blood Lion—”

“Lady Carmen, you shouldn’t refer to him that way now,” interjected Dezra, cutting off Carmen’s words.

Carmen hesitated, emitting a slight groan. To think that she, Carmen Lionheart, one of the three who had reached Seven Stars of the White Flame Formula, would have to see the Blood Lion as such was….

“E… Eu…Ri,” Carmen sounded almost strangled.

Eugene’s expression shifted to one of discomfort. Every twitch of his cheek made him more aware of the thick layer of makeup applied to his face, further igniting his agitation.

What on earth was this spectacle?

“Hush, Yuri, don’t clench your fists so hard. The muscles you’ve worked so hard to build might just burst.”

“Lady Yuri, please restrain your anger. Many eyes are upon this place. Though they are distant, some might have keen enough senses to detect your fury and grow suspicious.”

Sienna and Kristina whispered at his side.

“You must be aware of your current state, Yuri. You’re wearing women’s makeup and dressed in a woman’s attire. What if you can’t contain yourself and explode here? All these people might realize you’re in disguise,” Ciel whispered with a grin that suggested she found the situation vastly amusing.

“This is all your fault…!” Eugene shot back.

“I might’ve asked, but you chose to comply, Yuri. If you were a tad less kind-hearted, you wouldn’t have agreed to such a ridiculous request.” Ciel turned away, her smile still in place. “Well, it’s too late to back out now, right? Just keep it together until we board the ship, okay? Once we’re aboard, you won’t have to go out.”

Yuri took deep breaths, trying to calm “herself.” Right, just until they boarded the ship. And indeed, there were so many onlookers right now.

The mere news of a mission to subdue the troublesome Pirate Empress was enough to excite the townspeople. Add to that a grand send-off for the task force and a crowd was inevitable.

‘They’re all staring so intently.’

The gazes of those who had already boarded the ship were especially intense, much like Ivic’s. And why wouldn’t they be? There was Ciel, who had achieved so much at such a young age, and Carmen, known to be the strongest in Lionheart. Even though their numbers were few, just the names Carmen, Ciel, and ‘Lionheart’ were enough to draw all eyes to them.

Such intense scrutiny called for caution..

Yuri was careful with every step, every gesture. She intentionally avoided making eye contact with anyone. Thankfully, she was allowed to keep her head down. For now, Yuri, Sienna, and Kristina were in disguise as servants of the Lionheart family.

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