“It actually works out better this way.”

After a lengthy contemplation, Eugene nodded to himself. A confrontation with Gavid was inevitable. He had always envisioned it unfolding at the top of Babel, in the Demon King of Incarceration’s throne room.

‘There would have been too many concerns had we fought there,’ Eugene realized.

Using Ignition would be out of the question on the precipice of a final showdown with the Demon King of Incarceration. Moreover, the number of times he could wield his Divine Sword there was also uncertain….

‘If there’s a limit to using the Divine Sword even when I get to Babel, then I wouldn’t be able to use it against Gavid.’

He needed to reserve every last trick for the Demon King of Incarceration. Without that, there was no chance of victory against such a foe. No, in fact, if he was worrying about how many strikes of the Divine Sword he could use for that fight—

“Then there’s no way I could win,” Eugene scoffed lightly.

Even Agaroth was potentially weaker than the Demon King of Incarceration, and he had been capable of wielding the Divine Sword without limits. Moreover, there was a possibility that the Demon King of Incarceration had grown stronger since the Age of Myth.

‘Demons usually grow stronger as they age….’

The Demon King of Incarceration also wouldn’t be bound by the total amount of dark power available to him.

Eugene couldn’t fathom just how long the Demon King of Incarceration had lived since the Age of Myth, but he was certain that the Demon King hadn’t wasted all that time in vain.

So, the conclusion was simple. In order to kill the Demon King of Incarceration, Eugene had to be unquestionably stronger than Agaroth. Otherwise, a battle with the Demon King of Incarceration wouldn’t be viable.

Ascending Babel wouldn’t be smooth sailing. He would need to conserve as much power as possible just to reach the throne room. And frankly, Gavid Lindman was a complicating factor in that journey. Ideally, he’d avoid any strong adversaries in Babel.

“Formidable foes,” Eugene muttered as he crossed his arms. “Gavid Lindman. And… Noir Giabella.”

Unless some previously unknown, supremely powerful demons under the Demon King of Incarceration’s command — like the Heavenly Kings of Incarceration or something similarly absurd — appeared out of nowhere, the only formidable foes for Eugene in Helmuth, excluding the Demon King of Incarceration, were those two. And he wouldn’t encounter Noir Giabella in Babel. She would undoubtedly face him in Giabella City.

That left Gavid as the main hurdle.

“It’s not something to be optimistic about,” Anise declared from across. Her tone was somber.

In the mere half day since Gavid had issued his challenge, the Saints, who had returned to Yuras for matters of erecting Eugene’s statue and modifying scriptures, had rushed back to the Lionheart residence. The sudden proclamation had turned the significant architectural and doctrinal revisions into trivial matters due to its implications.

“A duel implies a fight between you and Gavid, just the two of you, doesn’t it?” Anise asked.

“Well, it’s a duel,” Eugene replied as if stating the obvious.

Anise felt a tightness in her chest at his response, as though a long sigh was impending, but she swallowed her breath and glared at Eugene.

“Refuse him,” she said bluntly.

Eugene blinked rapidly in response. He could not help but be taken aback. He stared at Anise momentarily, then theatrically stuck out his pinkie and vigorously cleaned out his ear. Bewildered by Eugene’s antics, Anise blinked back at him, just as confused. She didn’t know what he was thinking.

After a moment, Eugene blew on his pinkie and said, “What was that? I didn’t quite catch what you said.”

Anise realized then that Eugene was blatantly mocking her. She stood up abruptly and approached him. Normally, Eugene would have shrunk back or at least averted his gaze when he saw Anise advancing with such an expression. However, he reacted differently this time. He met her eyes squarely, the reason being simple: Eugene did not want to refuse the duel with Gavid.

“Hamel,” Anise said, glaring at him. She could feel the stubborn resolve in his eyes. She knew both Hamel and Eugene too well; neither was the type to run from a duel.

“If it’s a duel that cannot be interfered with, then it should be refused,” she insisted.

Why Gavid had initiated the duel wasn’t for Anise to question.

“Hamel, I know you’re strong. But a duel is dangerous,” warned Anise. She had moved right up to Eugene and grabbed his shoulders.

“That’s true,” Eugene agreed with her.

Eugene understood her implication perfectly.

Throughout countless battles, the way a fight progressed had been set centuries ago. His adversaries were demons and Demon Kings, beings inherently superior to humans. It was inevitable for Eugene, for Hamel, and for humans to think this way.

Demons lived for hundreds of years as a matter of course, while humans couldn’t even breach a century without extensively training their bodies and mana to surpass natural lifespans. Moreover, no matter how much humans trained, they couldn’t achieve immortality, even if they didn’t die of old age.

In contrast, high demons didn’t just not age; they regenerated as well — there was a possibility that even decapitation or being burned to ashes would not kill them.

That’s why the presence of a priest, the Saint, was crucial. The Saint allowed him to focus solely on combat. If he were decapitated or killed instantly, it would be impossible for even the Saint to bring him back, but other mortal wounds could be overcome with their miraculous powers.

“In a duel, I cannot assist you,” Anise reminded him.

Anise’s role as a saint had been the same since three hundred years ago, and it remained unchanged in this era. Since joining Eugene, she had enabled him to fight more boldly when previously, he always had to be cautious to avoid injury.

“It’s not just me. Though she has yet to return, Sienna also can’t assist you,” Anise rebuked.

Three hundred years ago, they had waged war. They hadn’t faced high demons and Demon Kings alone — that would have been madness. They had fought in sync. Molon took the vanguard and tanked hits. Hamel and Vermouth had been strikers exploiting openings, Anise had performed miracles in the rear to heal and boost morale, and Sienna had gathered power for devastating magical attacks.

Anise’s stern declaration lingered in the air, heavy with implication. If Eugene proceeded with the duel, he would be doing so without the safety net that their coordinated team provided.

“Even when I fought the specter, it was essentially a battle I fought alone,” Eugene said.

During the battle with Iris, Sienna and the Saints had assisted him along with the others. However, the fight against the specter had been different. The liberation army had collaborated to forge a path, but Eugene had faced the specter in single combat.

“The opponent is different this time…!” Anise’s voice grew intense as she gripped Eugene’s shoulder more firmly. She leaned in closer. Her gaze was intense as she scrutinized him.

“The specter you fought in Hauria… Hamel, you were not overpowered in that battle. I honestly think you dominated the specter throughout that encounter,” said Anise.

“It wasn’t quite like that. He was strong. He was almost on equal footing as me,” responded Eugene.

“From what I saw, that wasn’t the case, but yes, Hamel, if you say so, I’ll phrase it differently,” said Anise. Her eyebrows twitched. “You managed the fight against the specter with an advantage because you knew how the specter would fight. It had to be so. The specter used your techniques, Hamel. And it used Sir Vermouth’s techniques as well — both of which you know very well.”

Eugene did not deny it. How could he when her statement was correct? Eugene had anticipated every move the specter would make, moment by moment. His predictions, born of experience, became certain foreknowledge through divinity and intuition, which had allowed him to respond effectively to the specter’s every move.

“It wasn’t just the techniques. From what I could see, you were stronger in terms of sheer firepower as well,” continued Anise.

“He was dying, after all,” responded Eugene.

“Yes, the dark power of Destruction is too destructive. The specter could not withstand the power of Destruction even after being transformed into the Incarnation of Destruction. But you, during that battle, you mastered the Moonlight Sword and shattered what seemed like a seal on the Holy Sword,” commented Anise.

She paused briefly to draw a breath.

“He is different from the wraith,” she said.

A long sigh followed.

“The opponent is the Blade of Incarceration, Gavid Lindman. Hamel, you saw it yourself then. When Gavid Lindman used the Demoneye of Divine Glory and drew the Demonic Sword Glory to attack you, no one who was there could stop him. Were we tired? Complacent? No. At that moment, Gavid Lindman’s strike was simply unstoppable. It was overwhelming,” continued Anise.

Eugene remembered that strike well — a single, devastating strike that descended from the fringes of the sky.

Anise stated solemnly, “We all survived because Gavid Lindman targeted only you. Yes, that was perhaps his own way of showing consideration in his ambush. Hamel, you didn’t die then because—”

“It’s because that bastard sheathed his sword,” Eugene interrupted with a smirk. “I know what you’re worried about, Anise. And Kristina probably shares the same concerns. In a duel, you can’t use miracles to heal my injuries. Sienna won’t be allowed to support me in forcing Gavid’s hand. I will have to fight him alone.”

“It’s unfair,” Anise blurted out. “It’s a duel where one of you must die. But Hamel, you must kill Gavid Lindman over and over again to actually kill him. On the other hand—”

“What’s new about that?” Eugene interrupted her once again.

Eugene raised his hand and grasped Anise’s wrist.

“All this time, we’ve been fighting such foes. Foes who don’t die easily. Those who regenerate and keep coming at you even if their limbs are cut off,” he continued.

Anise just silently glared at him.

“You’re right, Anise. It’s incredibly unfair and unreasonable for a human to fight a demon. But I’m not just any human,” Eugene said.

This wasn’t going to work.

Anise eventually came to that conclusion. Persuading Hamel was impossible; he had already decided to accept the duel.

“…Let’s consider the benefits of accepting the duel.”

Thus, Anise changed her approach. She sighed deeply and returned to her chair.

“Drawing Gavid Lindman out of Babel to fight. Yes, that’s an appealing prospect. If you had fought in Babel, you would have had to preserve your strength for the battle afterward,” she said.

“That’s exactly it,” Eugene answered enthusiastically.

“Hamel, frankly, I don’t think fighting in Babel is particularly disadvantageous for us. Even if you can’t use your full power, we’ll have Sienna with us, won’t we?” questioned Anise.

“We don’t know for sure if Sienna will be stronger than before when she returns from the World Tree,” countered Eugene.

“She most likely wouldn’t have gotten weaker,” retorted Anise.

“Well… that’s likely true,” agreed Eugene.

Eugene pursed his lips in annoyance. A sulky expression formed on his face. It made Anise’s eyebrows twitch once more.

“Gavid Lindman has already declared the duel. If you were to refuse, not everyone in the world would say this, but… many would label you a coward,” Anise called out.

“What do you mean, might? They most definitely would mock me and call me a coward, for sure,” Eugene responded.

“Um… yes, that’s likely. For someone like you, who has toppled two Demon Kings and is currently crafting legends and myths, having the label of a coward would be… rather unbecoming and unwanted,” Anise agreed.

“It’s not just unbecoming. Faith and reverence are built on admiration and awe. Who would worship a coward who runs away from a duel?” Eugene questioned.

This wasn’t just stubbornness on his part. While Gavid might not have intended it, Eugene could not refuse now that the duel had been declared. He should not refuse.

“I felt it clearly when I met the Sage. No matter how powerful a human becomes, they are still just human. Against another Demon King, a human might stand a chance, but the opponents this time are the Demon King of Incarceration and the Demon King of Destruction. They… are beyond human reckoning,” stated Eugene.

He needed to reach even higher realms of divinity. He should be able to wield the Divine Sword, which was currently limited to five swings, casually and effortlessly. Moreover, he needed to master other aspects of divine power besides wielding the Divine Sword.

“If you accept the duel, and if you win… Hamel, you will definitely be able to obtain the worship and reverence you mentioned,” Anise stated.

Eugene Lionheart had slain two Demon Kings thus far. But defeating the Blade of Incarceration would resonate even more profoundly. In particular, the name of the Blade of Incarceration was tremendously significant to the demons of Helmuth.

“What if we pretend it’s a duel but launch a combined attack? I don’t know if it will be possible with Sienna, but I could assist you in secret. I could heal your wounds and bolster you with Light,” suggested Anise.

“That would be too cowardly,” said Eugene.

“Winning is what’s important. What does it matter if it’s cowardly?” asked Anise.

“I can hardly believe a Saint is saying this…” Eugene grumbled while shaking his head.

Anise continued on as if she hadn’t heard his complaint. “Realistically, fighting in front of an audience like gladiators in a coliseum would be impossible. Everyone there would be caught in the storm of attacks and perish.”

“That makes sense,” agreed Eugene.

No matter how many magical and holy barriers they put up, the barriers would disintegrate instantly if Eugene and Gavid clashed in full.

“If there are no spectators, it would actually be easier. Sienna could ambush Gavid, and I would support you,” said Anise.

“But that’s just too cowardly, isn’t it?” asked Eugene.

“What’s cowardly about it? If Gavid dies, no one would know anyway,” said Anise.

“No,” Eugene said with a deep frown.

Anise felt a boiling frustration and closed her eyes momentarily as she took a deep breath.

“Hamel. So, you really do want to duel Gavid by yourself, don’t you?” asked Anise.

“Of course. If I didn’t want to, I would have said so from the start…” Eugene responded.

“Why are you even discussing this with me if you have already made up your mind?” questioned Anise.

“Do you think I wanted to talk about this? You started this conversation so abruptly…” Eugene grumbled.

Anise no longer wanted to listen to him. She pulled out a flail hidden inside her robe. With a thud, the table between Eugene and Anise collapsed under the weight of the iron ball.

“Sorry,” Eugene began with an apology.

“What are you apologizing for?” Anise asked.

“For being stubborn when you’re just worried about me,” he answered.

Eugene’s straightforward admission surprised Anise, though she didn’t let her expression show her feelings.

“Why are you so insistent on dueling Gavid? Don’t use faith as an excuse,” said Anise.

“I want to fight with all my might…” he started.

“I’ve heard that already. There must be another reason,” she interrupted.

“In Hauria, that bastard had the chance to kill me but didn’t,” said Eugene, licking his lips as he recalled the encounter. “Why did he sheathe his sword at that moment, why did he go against the Demon King of Incarceration’s will to ambush me, and why did he issue a challenge for a duel—”

How could he explain this feeling?

“It feels like **,” Eugene declared.

That was his way of putting it for now.

“Gavid Lindman. I don’t think the bastard was showing me mercy. He sheathed his sword because of his own sense of honor and desire to compete…. This duel is the same. Gavid Lindman has defied the will of the Demon King of Incarceration.”

“…I also found that very curious,” admitted Anise.

“He wants to duel me badly enough to go against the lifetime of service and loyalty he has to the Demon King of Incarceration in a place that isn’t Babel. He wants to duel in a place where we can both fight without holding back. Gavid Lindman wants a one-on-one duel without any interference,” Eugene continued.

“That’s why I don’t want to refuse,” he stated.

As he spoke, Eugene realized something.

The duel. Rationalizing it with various calculations and ideals or giving different reasons for it was just making excuses for acceptance. In truth, Eugene didn’t need such excuses. He inherently wanted this. He just wanted a duel against him. He wanted to fight Gavid Lindman.

“You should have just said that from the start,” Anise clicked her tongue and put the flail back inside her robe. “When do you plan to do it?” freeωebnovēl.c૦m

Fortunately, Gavid had given Eugene quite a bit of leeway.

“He said by the end of next year. Surely you aren’t planning to rush it?” questioned Anise.

“Of course not,” said Eugene.

If Gavid had set the deadline for this year, Eugene would have had a headache deciding whether to fight prematurely, delay the duel out of pride, or ignore the duel altogether. Eugene had decided to accept the duel only because Gavid provided ample time for him to prepare.

‘If it were three hundred years ago, I might have just charged in.’ freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

But now, that wasn’t an option. Eugene knew his current existence was extraordinarily significant, and his death could potentially mean the end of the world. Having already died once due to impulsive actions three hundred years ago, he had no intention of repeating the same mistake.

“I’ll use up the deadline as much as I can,” he said.

“…Do you have a place in mind for the duel?” questioned Anise.

“Since I set the time, maybe we should decide on the place together,” Eugene responded.

Anise’s eyes widened. She stared at Eugene momentarily, then cocked her head.

“Together? As in the two of you?” she questioned.

“Yeah,” Eugene answered.

He stood up from his chair.

“I’ll ask to meet up. Why not?”