Chapter 380: The Abyss (4)

Eugene hadn’t had many occasions to see the face of the Demon King of Incarceration. During his time as Agaroth, he hadn’t seen him at all. Though, as Hamel, he had caught a distant glimpse of the Demon King during the battle on the crimson plains. When he finally entered Babel, Hamel had died before getting a chance to come face-to-face with the Demon King.

In this life, however, he had been entangled with the Demon King of Incarceration from early on.

Their initial encounter had occurred in Hamel’s tomb beneath the desert, although at that time, the Demon King of Incarceration had manifested within the body of a Death Knight.

But from that moment, Eugene found himself directly involved with the Demon King of Incarceration, even meeting him in person during the Knight March.

Yet, it was the first time he had seen the Demon King of Incarceration look this flustered.

“Am I Vermouth?” the Demon King repeated. The previously indifferent expressions that often adorned the Demon King’s visage, rarely disrupted but by a thin smile, were replaced by a vivid mosaic of reactions — eyebrows drawing uneven arches and lips twitching.

“Hmm… I didn’t think it was entirely implausible…” Eugene murmured, unyielding and contemplative.

The question might have been blurted out suddenly, yet it was not without a foundation of suspicion. There were indeed considerable similarities between the Demon King of Incarceration and Vermouth: both were suspicious, enigmatic, and fundamentally inscrutable in their intents.

“Are you sincerely asking that?” The Demon King managed to query again with a hollow chuckle. It was a response that seemed tinged with even a hint of offense.

“Why would you think so?” asked the Demon King of Incarceration.

“Because if you were Vermouth, many of my questions would be answered. Why Vermouth would have agreed to make a pact with you, why you agreed to a seemingly disadvantageous promise, why you spared and returned Sienna, Anise, and Molon three hundred years ago. Your involvement in my reincarnation and the time you intervened to save me when I was almost… annihilated.”

“Hmm.” The Demon King’s face once again donned a mask of impassivity. He tilted his head slightly, fixing a piercing gaze upon Eugene. “Indeed. Your suspicions are not entirely baseless. So, Eugene Lionheart, what will you do if I tell you that I am Vermouth?”

The question came with a heavy undertone. It was not an entertaining thought. Yet, since it was Eugene who initiated this, he didn’t need much time or reflection to respond.

“I’d first listen to what you have to say, then decide whether or not to kill you. Though, being honest, I would likely choose to kill you,” answered Eugene directly.

“You would kill me?” the Demon King asked.

“That’s right.” Eugene’s answer harbored no doubt.

Regardless of the circumstances, the Demon King of Incarceration was still a Demon King; he was responsible for initiating the war three hundred years ago, a war that ravaged lands and caused innumerable losses.

“You started the war,” Eugene said, his voice cold.

It was an incontrovertible truth. The Demon King of Incarceration had been the first among the five Demon Kings to invade the continent, unleashing a horde of demonic beasts that obliterated neighboring small nations bordering the Devildom.

That marked the inception of a domino effect, ushering in the brutal invasion of the other Demon Kings — the Demon King of Carnage, Cruelty, and Fury — upon the continent.

Although the Demon King of Incarceration became less engrossed in the invasion afterward, the fact that he set the catastrophic events in motion remained unaltered. It was also the reason why all the dragons united and launched an offensive against him.

‘But then, the dragons were slaughtered when the Demon King of Destruction made an appearance,’ Eugene thought.

What was it like during the Age of the Myths? Did the Demon King of Incarceration start it all then, too?

He could not remember. But he wasn’t particularly curious either. It was a past life too far away, belonging to a completely different era.

“I see.” After a moment of silence, the Demon King of Incarceration nodded slowly. “I did not think there was a… reason to answer, but still, I will give you an answer. I am not Vermouth.”

Hearing those words, Eugene felt relieved.

“Eugene Lionheart. You do not need to hesitate at all to kill me,” the Demon King of Incarceration declared.

“If so, I am glad,” Eugene replied without smiling.

The Demon King of Incarceration gazed at Eugene’s face for a while before turning away. This time, Eugene didn’t hold back the Demon King of Incarceration when he started walking into the circle formed by chains.

‘He refused to kill Sienna and Anise, and formed a pact with Vermouth. He knew me in my past life, aided in my reincarnation, and watched over me in this life….’ Eugene’s thoughts were complex.

He had made a pact with Vermouth. It wasn’t necessarily because of that. In the end, Eugene, Sienna, Anise, and Molon were enemies of the Demon King of Incarceration.

…Had they been spared because they were too insignificant? It might have been the case. Indeed, the power of the Demon King of Incarceration was overwhelmingly massive. He was allowed to think that way.

But… it seemed like there was a different reason for the Demon King of Incarceration to go to these lengths.

—If you were there with us, there would have been no need to fight the Demon King of Incarceration upon reaching the pinnacle of the Demon King’s castle.

—The highest priority for me was that. Reaching the pinnacle of the Demon King of Incarceration’s castle, climbing to the top of Babel. If I could meet the true form of the Demon King of Incarceration there, it would have been accomplished. If I had defeated him, the terms of the promise would have significantly changed.

—Just like I did, stand in the palace of the Demon King of Incarceration and arrange to meet his true form. The Demon King of Incarceration won’t let you climb Babel easily. He is such an existence.

—What happens afterward, you’ll have to experience it yourself.

Eugene recalled Vermouth’s words. He had already met the true form of the Demon King of Incarceration. But this place wasn’t the peak of Babel. To know the truth, as the Demon King of Incarceration had said, one had to climb Babel.

‘There was no need to fight,’ Eugene recalled.

But that was a story from three hundred years ago. Whether it would be the same even if he climbed Babel now, he didn’t know. And even if the Demon King of Incarceration had no intention of fighting, Eugene was determined to fight and kill the Demon King of Incarceration.

—The only reason I had to have you reincarnated was that of all the people I know… you were the most like the Hero.

Vermouth had spoken these words in the Dark Room.

Now, those words invoked various thoughts.

“Did you know too?”

Muttering to himself, Eugene turned his head to see the mountain built from the corpses of monsters. Sitting atop it was a statue of Agaroth. Eugene stared intensely at a distant past version of himself.

***

Even though he knew that showing them everything in the abyss would be quicker than telling them, going down into the abyss again with Sienna and Kristina was not an option. It was because, except for Iris, who had the qualifications because of a promise, and Eugene, who was fatefully connected to the ruins, no one could pass through the gate of the abyss.

“So….”

The sea that was split with the Divine Sword had come back together once again. Eugene stared silently at the quiet sea, anticipating what Sienna, who had heard the whole story, would say.

“You are claiming to be a god?” Sienna asked incredulously.

Eugene just stayed silent at this question.

“A God of War?”

Sienna’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Have you lost your mind?” she questioned.

Eugene still didn’t offer a response.

“No… no, really, Eugene. It’s not that I don’t believe you, but it’s just too absurd. You, a God of War?” Sienna questioned once more.

“Tch…”

Eugene had somewhat anticipated her reaction. He, too, would have doubted Sienna’s sanity as well if she abruptly claimed, ‘I am actually a God of Magic.’

“I see…” said Kristina.

Contrary to Sienna, who was skeptical, Kristina nodded slowly with her hands gathered. She spoke with a gaze filled with genuine admiration and worship towards Eugene.

“Indeed, Sir Eugene, you were a possessor of an extraordinary destiny,” Kristina commented.

“Do you believe me?” asked Eugene.

“Absolutely. Not only me, but Lady Anise also believes that in your previous life, you were an ancient God of War,” Kristina said while staring fixedly at Eugene.

“…In fact, we witnessed your ‘miracle’ today,” she continued.

“Miracle….” Sienna murmured, shifting her perception of him being… an ignorant and barbaric Hamel. She recalled Eugene when he had cornered Iris earlier.

“Indeed,” Sienna muttered..𝒎

A miracle — most wizards did not blindly believe in such uncertainties. However, it seemed ludicrous to doubt and deny it after witnessing it first-hand.

The quality of his mana had changed in an instant. His flames burned pitch-black, contrary to the name of the White Flame Formula. The Moonlight Sword had rampaged. And finally — the red light that split Iris and the sea into two.

“That wasn’t… mana. It wasn’t magic, nor was it the light of the Moonlight Sword,” commented Sienna.

It was undoubtedly an alien power. Sienna felt the nature of the power that light held.

Kristina and Anise felt the same, especially Anise, who had some idea of the identity of that power since the first time Eugene’s flame changed.

“Divine power,” said Anise.

The belief in a deity — the manifestation of divine magic and even miracles beyond it — all occurred through faith. That was precisely divine power. How the divine power manifested varied according to the deity who was worshiped. For the priests who worshiped the God of Light, it appeared as a dazzling light.

That light was bestowed by a deity; one could also say it was borrowed from the deity.

“Hamel, the light within you wasn’t granted by the God of Light. It was a light sparked from within yourself, a divine power intrinsic to the deity themselves,” Anise declared.

Anise was no longer a human being. The human version of Anise had died three hundred years ago. Anise of now was an ethereal entity, a celestial, closer to a deity than any human could ever be.

Because of this, Anise had sensed the divine power ever since Eugene’s flame had transformed.

“Especially, Hamel, the last one you drew… the Sword of Light. That bore the force deserving to be called a Divine Sword in the truest sense,” Anise explained.

The Holy Sword Altair, said to be crafted by the God of Light, was wrought from the flesh and blood of the avatar the deity had assumed when descending to the earthly realm.

Even after the God of Light ascended back to the heavens, Altair remained in this world, regarded by the Church of Light as the first offspring of the deity, a torch left for the world, infused with a potent Light.

Yet, the Holy Sword was different from a Divine Sword. It merely borrowed its sanctity from a deity, while a Divine Sword was forged purely of divine power.

Eugene wore a complicated expression while touching his chest, where he had drawn the Divine Sword.

“It cannot be drawn frequently,” he commented.

“Indeed.” Anise nodded, a given in her expression. “Hamel. You, being Agaroth yourself, would know best, but the name ‘Agaroth’ dates back thousands of years… or perhaps even longer. According to your words, didn’t all the devotees worshiping Agaroth perish along with the end of the Age of Myths? While there might be few who know the name ‘Agaroth’ in this era, none would worship Agaroth as a god.”

“I suppose so,” said Eugene.

“A god not worshiped by anyone, a deity of war vanished with antiquity. Hamel, even if you are the reincarnation of that war god, there would be hardly any divine might or divinity left in you. Yet according to your own realization… you’ve awakened the divine power,” explained Anise.

He could wield it only once. That was Eugene’s current assessment. While dissecting it finely could allow for several more uses, utilizing the Holy Sword with the Empty Sword would be more convenient and better.

But even if wielded just once, the Divine Sword swung with all his might had annihilated the Demon King’s dark power and split the sea.

“I cannot be certain, but being able to draw the Divine Sword seems to be limited to once a day.” Though he couldn’t do it at the moment. Eugene murmured, caressing his chest, “It feels… like it’s gradually replenishing.”

“The name, the God of War Agaroth, isn’t what’s important,” said Anise while stepping closer to Eugene. “Only the name has changed. The soul remains the same. Today, Hamel, you killed the Demon King of Fury. Right now, only the punitive force is aware, but once we return to Shimuin, the entire continent will know.”

Eugene understood Anise’s words.

Divinity grew with faith. The brilliance of the light bestowed by the God of Light was due to the grandeur of the Church of Light among the religions of the continent.

He had killed the Demon King, an astonishing feat that would shake the entire continent. Once this fact was known, many across the continent would chant Eugene’s name, perhaps even to the point of worship….

For Eugene, who already possessed the Divine Sword, such worship would accumulate and convert into divine power.

‘I see,’ Eugene thought in realization.

Eugene didn’t particularly desire it, but the more the continent hailed him as a hero, the stronger his divine power would become. He would be able to swing the Divine Sword more than once as his power increased, and its inherent potency would also grow.

If he managed to garner such surplus in divinity, he would be able to explore other ways to utilize this power as well, beyond just wielding the Divine Sword.

“God… a god….” Sienna cast a complex gaze, stealing glances at Eugene as she murmured, the perplexity evident on her face. “Not a goddamned idiot… but a god? A god, not of idiocy or insanity… but a god of war…?”

“…..”

It was a huge insult, yet Eugene didn’t take it as such. The playful linguistic game embedded in that derogatory phrase brought a subtle smile to his lips.

Anise mumbled while eyeing Sienna skeptically, “Was that a joke just now?”

“No… no, it wasn’t?” retorted Sienna.

“It sounded like a joke…” mumbled Anise.

“It wasn’t, I told you!” shouted Sienna.

Holding back a smile had been the right call. Eugene managed his expression with a fierce determination before turning his head away.

At the moment, the ship carrying Eugene and his party was progressing slowly across the sea.

The Demon King was dead, and so were the dark elves and pirates. However, something might have remained at their base. One of the objectives of this suppression mission was to rescue the dwarf craftsmen who had been kidnapped by the pirates.

‘There were no dwarves among the monsters,’ Eugene remembered.

Of course, it was possible that, having transformed into monsters, they lost their dwarf characteristics… but that didn’t mean the expedition could return to Shimuin without checking.

“How is Ciel?” Eugene sighed deeply before asking.

“Her physical condition is… fine. There is no anomaly appearing in her left eye,” answered Anise.

“I checked with magic as well. It’s the same. That eye… has certainly become a Demoneye, but it is still functioning properly as an eye,” added Sienna.

Sienna and Anise both gave a sigh.

“Her energy hasn’t significantly diminished either. But just in case, we forced her to sleep…” said Anise.

“Carmen and Dezra are watching over her now. For now… let her rest deeply, and we can check the Demoneye later,” suggested Sienna.

“Yeah,” Eugene murmured with a bitter smile.

Anise looked at him with worried eyes and said, “Hamel, you shouldn’t feel… guilty.”

“I should.” Eugene shook his head as he responded, “It happened while she was trying to save me.”

Anise and Sienna did not say anything in response.

“It was different from what I did three hundred years ago when I rushed in without needing to,” Eugene said bitterly.

If Ciel hadn’t pushed him away, if she hadn’t thrust herself forward in his stead, the Demoneye of Darkness would have pierced through Eugene’s head without a doubt.

𝑖𝘦𝑎.𝗇t