“I’m curious as to who this person is that you would speak of them like this,” said Eugene.

A sparring partner?

Eugene narrowed his eyes as he gazed at Gavid, skeptical of the implication. He found it almost impossible to believe that Gavid’s current prowess had developed within just a few months.

“Is there really someone in Helmuth that I don’t know about, someone who is capable of sparring with you? Surely not Noir Giabella,” said Eugene.

Then who could possibly be Gavid’s match? fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

The Demon King of Incarceration? It wasn’t entirely out of the question, but… it seemed unlikely. If it had indeed been the Demon King, Gavid wouldn’t be discussing it so casually.

“I know what you are wary of,” Gavid said, grinning as he looked at Eugene. “I could simply drive you into a corner mentally by keeping it a secret, but… I’m not fond of such tricks. So, I’ll give you an honest answer. Hamel, my sparring partner isn’t a demon. He isn’t a citizen of Helmuth either, nor a being of this world.”

“What?” questioned Eugene.

“It is a phantom, recreated from His Majesty’s memories… perhaps an existence you might know as well,” answered Gavid.

Eugene stared at Gavid. His sparring partner was a phantom recreated from memory? Eugene wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but the suggestion that it was someone he might know scraped at his emotions.

“I don’t follow what you’re saying,” Eugene said directly.

“Hamel,” Gavid called out, conscious of the chain bundled within his cloak. “Do you know of a wasteland littered with countless corpses?”

Eugene was surprised to hear this unexpected question.

Gavid continued, “Thanks to His Majesty the Demon King’s grace, I wandered that nameless wasteland over and over again. And each time, what I faced was the same death, again and again.”

A wasteland strewn with corpses.

Eugene’s eyes narrowed.

“The one killing me was always the same adversary. It was a man with a greatsword. Whether I fought or not, the man always ended my life,” Gavid recounted.

Eugene just listened silently to the story.

“While only about two months have passed in reality, I have lived far longer in that wasteland. I can’t even count how many times I have died there,” explained Gavid.

He pointed a finger at Eugene.

“I don’t know the man’s identity. But I can say this with certainty: his name does not exist in the annals of this world’s history. Perhaps… he is from a time before history was even recorded. And.” He paused.

The man’s sword.

Gavid had barely, just barely, managed to elevate himself to a level where he could just about match the man. However, he had failed to overcome the adversary. Even if he used the Demoneye of Divine Glory, or even Glory, surpassing the man’s sword and threatening his life proved impossible.

Finally, Gavid said, “Hamel, you should know this man.”

When Gavid first saw the man in the wasteland, he had used the Demoneye of Divine Glory and drawn Glory to avoid death. That was when he first saw the man’s sword.

It had been a blade radiating a bloody hue, the very epitome of merciless and inexorable violence.

That sword had resembled the one Hamel had used to slay the specter.

“What words do you want to hear?” Eugene asked.

Eugene wondered how Gavid had grown so strong. He had never imagined the Demon King of Incarceration would assist Gavid in such a manner.

‘At least it’s just a phantom. I thought a new, unknown powerhouse might have emerged,’ Eugene thought.

Or perhaps that still wasn’t such good news. Eugene clicked his tongue while sinking in contemplation.

Gavid would only grow stronger with the passage of time. Eugene didn’t feel as confident in defeating Gavid as he was now. As such, he was wary of how much stronger Gavid might be at the time of their duel.

“I’m rather curious about your relationship with this man, but I won’t pry into that,” said Gavid.

“Then?” questioned Eugene.

“I thought perhaps I should at least know his name,” Gavid voiced his thoughts.

“Why?” Eugene asked in genuine curiosity.

“Would calling him a master be too grand?” Gavid smirked at his own words. “Sure, it might be foolish to assume on my part. But Hamel, I was utterly in awe of that man’s sword. I never thought such a powerful man could exist in this world. I died at the hands of his sword hundreds, no, thousands of times. Each death and each resurrection gradually sharpened me and honed me bit by bit.

“And that is why I genuinely want to know the man’s name and identity. I want to know the name of the one who has killed me so often, who has drawn so much out of me,” confessed Gavid.

“Agaroth,” Eugene blurted out. “The God of War, Agaroth.”

Gavid was genuinely curious about the name Agaroth for the reason he gave. Hence, Eugene responded honestly.

“The God of War, Agaroth….” Gavid closed his eyes momentarily and repeated the name, rummaging through the long memories he had accumulated.

The God of War, Agaroth.

He found it.

“That name was left in the sea where Iris was entrenched. Not really as a faith, but more like an ancient legend,” said Gavid.

When Iris suddenly settled at the southern end and started abducting dwarfs for some inscrutable schemes, Gavid had scraped together information to guess at Iris’ plots. That was when he first heard the name Agaroth.

He hadn’t thought much of it. It had not left much of an impression. In this era, what was the use of remembering the name of an ancient deity that hadn’t left behind any religion or faith? He had not imagined he would be reunited with the name in such a way.

Gavid chuckled and shook his head.

“You had no obligation to satisfy my curiosity. I appreciate your kindness,” he said.

“Are you satisfied?” Eugene asked.

“If that man was once called a God of War in ancient times, haha, I have no choice but to be satisfied. After all, I have yet to defeat him even once,” Gavid admitted. He paused momentarily to gaze at Eugene, then continued, “Is that okay?”

“What are you asking about?”

“There’s about a year left until our duel. Hamel, you will also grow stronger during this time. But the same goes for me. In fact, I might be able to use this year even more effectively than you,” said Gavid.

The wasteland that he entered using the chain was detached from reality. The flow of time in the wasteland was distorted compared to the real world.

“If I may suggest, it might be better for you to duel me right now. Hamel, I can assure you that I will be incomparably stronger in a year. I might even surpass that War God’s sword,” Gavid warned.

“That might be true,” said Eugene.

He didn’t deny this possibility.

“Actually, I’d prefer it if you became as strong as Agaroth, or… even stronger,” continued Eugene.

This time, it was Gavid who blinked in surprise. Eugene answered before Gavid could voice his confusion.

“I need to be certain that I can surpass Agaroth,” he said.

He knew that judgments based on his vague memories of the past were unreliable. But if he could defeat Gavid after a year, he would truly be confident in having surpassed Agaroth.

“Is that so,” Gavid said in a neutral voice. He continued with a nod, “However, this duel might not be entirely fair. Hamel, you know as well as I do that the duel is meant to be between just you and me. The Wise Sienna or Saint Kristina Rogeris cannot intervene.”

“Of course, that’s how it should be,” responded Eugene.

“I am aware that demons are superior to humans in every aspect. No matter how many times your sword strikes me, I will not sustain a fatal wound,” admitted Gavid.

“That’s likely,” said Eugene.

“Also, the Demoneye of Divine Glory I wield perfectly replicates the power of His Majesty the Demon King,” continued Gavid.

“That doesn’t matter. Just as you use the Demoneye of Divine Glory, I too can draw miracles of Light from the Holy Sword,” replied Eugene.

“Hamel,” Gavid called out, lowering his voice. “If you wish, I can make this duel much fairer by adding a rule. If you can shatter my heart or decapitate me, I will acknowledge my defeat, even if I don’t die. I’ll accept defeat and end my own life—”

Eugene didn’t let him finish. He burst into loud laughter while slapping his knee.

“Hahaha! Don’t talk nonsense, Gavid Lindman. You’ll acknowledge defeat if I shatter your heart or decapitate you? Hahaha! Do you think the Demon King of Incarceration would agree to that? Would the Demon King of Destruction set rules before we fight?” Eugene shouted.

No.

Eugene shook his head.

“I don’t need such rules. A year from now, in our duel, I will kill you. That’s how I’ll win. After that, I’ll kill Noir Giabella, ascend Babel, and slay the Demon King of Incarceration. Then I’ll go after the Demon King of Destruction,” Eugene declared.

Even though Gavid recognized Eugene’s strength, such a statement was arrogantly beyond ordinary comprehension. Even Vermouth of Despair had the support of his comrades at Babel three hundred years ago.

However, Gavid did not read arrogance in those words. Instead, he sensed a fanaticism bordering on madness. Hamel — or rather Eugene Lionheart — meant what he said.

“I have insulted you with my words,” Gavid said. Then, with a nod, he rose from his seat as he continued, “Then it seems we have nothing further to adjust.”

After a pause, Gavid asked, “What about the construction of the arena? If you don’t want to bother—”

Eugene interrupted, “There are plenty of dwarves at the Lionheart estate. I’ll just have them handle it.”

Gavid smiled wryly at the indifferent reply and nodded. He turned to leave, and a door of chains opened before him.

“Then, in a year—” Gavid started.

“Wait.” Eugene stood up, interrupting him. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“A favor?”

It was surprising to hear the word favor from Hamel’s mouth. Gavid’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“If it’s within my power,” said Gavid.

“Drop me off somewhere before you go,” Eugene said.

This ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co.

Before Gavid could respond, Eugene provided the coordinates. Gavid was visibly flustered but visualized the coordinates in his mind as he blinked several times.

“This place… isn’t this the Southern Seas? If I’m not mistaken, it’s where the Demon King of Fury died, right?” asked Gavid.

“That’s right,” answered Eugene.

“Why would you want to go there?” questioned Gavid.

“Never mind the reason,” Eugene answered.

“Hmm.”

It was a shamelessly brazen attitude for someone requesting a favor, but Gavid nodded without asking further questions.

Could it be related to the War God Agaroth? Perhaps. After all, Agaroth’s name had remained in the sea where Iris died.

Gavid started, “I am curious, but….”

How Eugene used the remaining time before their duel was entirely up to him. Gavid did not want to interfere or probe into the affairs of his long-awaited adversary. He had his own matters to immerse himself in for the year.

Gavid manipulated the chain door according to the coordinates Eugene had provided him, and in that brief moment, Eugene pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something.

Ssshhh….

The landscape visible through the door changed. Moments ago, it showed an empty room in the Lindman mansion in Helmuth, but now it displayed a vast sea.

Upon seeing the sea, Eugene immediately stepped forward.

“Then… see you in a year,” Gavid said.

Eugene passed through the gate of chains without a reply, then abruptly raised his hand towards Gavid.

“Huh…!”

A stark middle finger. Gavid couldn’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief.

Such an utterly rude gesture — it was so typical of Hamel. Gavid shook his head as he watched Eugene plunge into the sea.

“I have no idea what he’s plotting,” Gavid muttered.

A letter left on the table caught his eye. Gavid hadn’t intended to snoop, but since Eugene had left it openly unfolded, he couldn’t help but read it.

I’ll spend the year training. We’ve agreed to build the arena in Raguyaran, so tell the dwarves at the Lionheart estate to handle it. Don’t get mad, and try not to worry too much either.

“Huh…”

Gavid shook his head again. The letter unilaterally stated his demands.

How could he just write that and leave? And now he was instructing to have the dwarves construct the arena in Raguyaran….

“I’ll need to send a letter myself later,” muttered Gavid.

If things were left as Hamel had instructed, something would surely go amiss. It seemed necessary for Gavid to send a letter to the Lionheart clan detailing the date and location of the duel in place of Hamel.

“How irresponsible,” Gavid muttered.

He opened the portal again while clicking his tongue.

***

The moment he passed through the chain gate, Eugene dropped straight into the sea.

‘I have to admit, this ability is incredibly convenient,’ Eugene thought enviously.

It was a power that allowed him to arrive anywhere in a single step without a need for warp-gates, as long as he had the coordinates. This was an authority not even Sienna or the dragons possessed, but solely the Demon Kings.

‘Thanks to this, I arrived comfortably.’

This place was the southernmost tip of the Southern Seas. It was the site near the distant ocean where Iris had died and in the ancient past, the location where the Demon King of Fury had made a pact with the Demon King of Incarceration.

It was a city once ruled by Agaroth, the sea where the sanctuary of the War God was submerged.

“It would have taken quite some time if I came alone,” Eugene murmured as he fell into the sea. This part of the ocean was far from any warp-gate and could not be reached without a boat or flying.

Only a year remained.

He needed to maximize this time. But how? Should he seek Molon for a sparring session out of the blue again? Was there anything left to gain from such sparring now?

‘No, there isn’t,’ Eugene realized.

Eugene was now stronger than Molon. Even if Molon had also spent time in training during Eugene’s absence, he doubted there was anything more to gain from dueling Molon again.

Should he return to the World Tree and seek the Sage’s help, or perhaps entangle himself in vines like Carmen did to duel the God of Giant’s phantom? It could be beneficial, but it would mean that he was blatantly ignoring the Sage’s warnings.

Ultimately, now, Eugene could consider only one path ahead.

‘Divine Power.’

He needed a place to anchor himself.

He needed a place free from others’ interference, where he could contemplate who he was now, what he was before, and the essence of his being — solely, profoundly, and introspectively.

“There’s nowhere else but here.”

The moment his feet touched the sea, it split open with a crack, as if the sea itself were a door. Eugene didn’t panic but dropped through the gap created by the parted waters.

‘One year.’

Eugene’s eyes narrowed.

‘I won’t leave this place for a year.’

The abyss of the deep sea yawned open.

In the blink of an eye, a year passed.