Eugene knew.

Vermouth had sat in the center of Destruction, right where Agaroth had left the mark. He had not initially understood its significance, but gradually, piece by piece, he came to understand.

When Eugene encountered Vermouth through Ciel’s Demoneye, Vermouth was not in a position where he could reveal his identity.

But there was no need to hear it from Vermouth. At that time, when Eugene met Vermouth in the Temple of Destruction, he had already convinced himself that everything he imagined was the truth.

Yet, Eugene chose to ignore it. He thought there was no need to be conscious of it. Just as there was no need to hear Vermouth’s identity, he thought there was no need to deliberately come to know it.

Nothing would change. No matter who Vermouth truly was or how he was born, he was still Vermouth. He was Vermouth Lionheart.

Eugene gnashed his teeth as he remembered his meeting with Vermouth. He opened his bloodied fist.

What had he said to Vermouth? If he truly wanted to reveal everything, Eugene had asked Vermouth to do it later, after everything was over. That he would pull Vermouth from that damned chair and give him a good beating, then he would listen.

But he knew that was impossible. To reach Vermouth, he had to get past the Demon King of Incarceration. Speaking all of the truths here in the throne room of Babel and coming to a decision would be the final trial set by the Demon King of Incarceration.

“The first Oath bore no fruit,” the Demon King said before turning his gaze to Eugene.

“Eugene Lionheart, if you had come with Vermouth… negotiations for the end of Destruction could have taken place. As Vermouth wished, I would have guided you into the belly of Destruction. Even if it were a high-risk gamble, I would have taken a bet I would never normally consider.”

But Hamel had died.

“I made a second Oath with Vermouth. He returned to the destruction from where he was born. He mingled with Destruction and grappled with it. And I decided to wait. The reprieve gained by delaying Destruction. Even if everything ultimately ended in destruction, it was worth watching.”

The Demon King of Incarceration paused briefly and then chuckled before continuing.

“I gave… time. Vermouth earned it, and all I had to do was stop the war. The time thus granted had significance. The world has grown since three hundred years ago. The continent’s will is stronger than it was during the era of war. And you, Hamel, reborn, ascended Babel and reached me with divinity.”

Three hundred years ago, this alone would have sufficed. But now, that was no longer the case. Vermouth wasn’t here.

“This isn’t the end, is it?” Anise spoke up, her eyes holding undisguised hostility as she glared at the Demon King of Incarceration. “Isn’t that right?”

“Do you want to fight me?” questioned the Demon King.

“There’s no one among us who wouldn’t want that,” Anise responded.

“That depends on the choice Eugene Lionheart makes,” the Demon King of Incarceration responded.

All eyes turned to Eugene.

“This is all for you, after all. You are the reincarnation of Agaroth, who left a deep wound on Destruction. You are the existence that continues the hopes of the ancient gods. You are what was achieved through Vermouth’s self-sacrifice, the representative of Light and all gods,” the Demon King continued.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that the three hundred years since the era of war existed solely for Eugene.

“I might live eternally hereafter, but there will never be another like you now. Yet, I must doubt. Can you truly end Destruction? You, without Vermouth by your side, can you really… do it?” the Demon King of Incarceration said softly.

Eugene silently furrowed his brows.

“Even if you claim you can, I must believe that you cannot,” the Demon King of Incarceration stated.

He rested his chin on his hand. From his high throne, he looked down imperiously. He was every inch the Great Demon King.

“End yourself,” he said.

“What?” Eugene asked, shocked.

“End yourself and offer your soul to me. The same goes for all of you,” the Demon King repeated.

His gaze shifted to Sienna and the Saints.

“Sienna Merdein, Kristina Rogeris, and Anise Slywood. Your souls are exceedingly valuable, more than enough for me to take to the next era,” he continued.

“You….”

“If you voluntarily offer your souls, I will treat you accordingly. Do you wish to preserve your memories? It is a very easy task, you know? The Demon King of Fury reincarnated with memories of his past by swearing allegiance to me,” the Demon King of Incarceration offered.

There was a stunned silence following this explanation.

“Of course, even if you do not end yourselves… I am confident I can kill you all. But then, I would have no reason to preserve your memories. And I do not wish to kill you directly. Doing so might diminish the purity of your souls. I would prefer to avoid that. You all are such valuable, once-in-an-eternity souls,” the Demon King of Incarceration said with a smile.

“You plan on moving on to the next?” Sienna asked, skepticism evident in her voice.

“Are you saying you’ll reincarnate us as demons?” Kristina questioned with incredulity.

Both of them expressed expressed their disbelief at what they were hearing.

“No,” the Demon King said with a shake of his head.

Their expressions wavered significantly at the response.

The Demon King of Incarceration continued in an enticing voice, “It doesn’t have to be as demons. I have always taken the souls I command to the next era. Except in special cases, I do not choose the race. I simply take them along. I have repeated this many times. Discard what can be discarded and refill anew.

“But I can promise this. In the eternity I will live, your souls will never be discarded. If you wish, I will allow you to remember countless reincarnations. And if that eternity becomes too burdensome — I can also make you forget,” he promised.

Everyone except the Demon King of Incarceration fell silent.

The Demon King gladly accepted the silence and continued his whispers, “Fate is meant to repeat itself. Just as Iris became the Demon King of Fury, drawn by destiny even though she had not preserved her memories, just as Agaroth’s Ring found its way to you, Eugene Lionheart, just as Ivatar Jahav took a liking to you, and as Noir Giabella became obsessed with you.”

The Demon King of Incarceration slowly raised his hand, and the space cracked open, revealing another scene. The scene showed the battlefield below Babel. The clash between the Divine Army and the demon armies became visible to all.

The Demon King continued, “There must be those among them who share a special bond with you. Even those not on the battlefield. Yes, Eugene Lionheart. What about your father? The servant who has looked after you in your family? The elves of the forest who serve you? And what of the numerous followers who adore you?

“Such connections will continue into the next era, even if faintly. Even if they merely pass by, the present is not meaningless.”

The Demon King of Incarceration’s eyes curled into a smile.

“But if you choose to end yourselves, I will willingly take in those connected to you as well. Your souls are worth it, and so are the heroes who are bound to you.”

His voice was like the devil’s whisper, and what he said was a blatant temptation — abandon this world and move on to the next together, remembering the past, living through the next era, dying, and repeating.

“Eternity,” Eugene finally spoke up. “Even in the next era, and the one after, are you saying you will not end Destruction?”

“That is impossible,” the Demon King of Incarceration replied. “You must have realized it from your discussions with Vermouth. I cannot kill the Demon King of Destruction, nor can he kill me. Thus, I am bound to live eternally.”

“I see,” Eugene replied after a brief pause. freёwebnoѵel.com

—I cannot let hope like you be bound to the Demon King of Incarceration.

The specter had said in Hauria.

“If I die by your hands, I can never kill the Demon King of Destruction,” Eugene pointed out.

The specter told him to leave behind any regrets.

“If I die, I can never save Vermouth,” Eugene said, clearly making his stand.

Eugene had declared to the specter that he would shoulder all the regrets that the specter had, and he had confidently responded that he would save Vermouth.

“Saving Vermouth?” The Demon King of Incarceration chuckled. “You must already know that saving Vermouth is impossible. He is not just a fragment of Destruction — he is the Avatar of Destruction. Now, he has assimilated back with the Demon King of Destruction while sealing Destruction. Killing the Demon King of Destruction means killing Vermouth.”

Eugene knew this very well.

“If not now, I may never even have the chance to try,” Sienna responded, chewing on her lip and gripping her staff tightly. The petals of the staff’s flower blossomed.

“I have not reunited with Sir Vermouth. Thus, I must see his face at least once. I’ve long resolved to wrinkle that noble face with my hands and to make him bleed hideously,” said Anise.

A halo appeared above Anise’s head, radiating light. Eight wings unfolded from her back.

“If it’s for saving Vermouth, you cannot bring down Destruction,” said the Demon King of Incarceration.

“Meeting Sir Eugene was a miracle for me. To sacrifice this brilliant miracle to your chains just to carry it to the next era? To abandon the world where I was born and met Sir Eugene? How could I possibly do that?” Kristina said resolutely. She also clenched her rosary.

Listening to their replies, the Demon King of Incarceration chuckled and gripped the armrests of his throne.

Sounding amused, he said, “To save Vermouth, to kill Destruction, and to even save the world? You are overly ambitious. Impossible. Is it worth giving up ties and the future? Eternity often presents variables, much like your existences. Who knows? Maybe, someday, someone else will end Destruction. Maybe Destruction will dissolve on its own.”

“No.” Eugene shook his head firmly, then said, “I must be the one to do it. I have lived for this purpose. There are those who have wished that I would accomplish it.”

“To accomplish that, you must first overcome me,” responded the Demon King.

The Demon King of Incarceration slowly rose from his throne.

Creak, creak….

The chains of causality he bore collapsed and transformed back into a cloak.

“Do you think it’s possible?” the Demon King asked, standing tall.

Eugene did not answer immediately but turned to look beside him.

His eyes met Sienna’s. She grimaced as if she were questioning why he was looking at her, then lifted her robe slightly to show her left hand. Her middle finger was sticking up.

His gaze met the Saints’. Anise shared Sienna’s sentiment and took on a disgruntled look when she saw Eugene seeking confirmation. She glanced at Eugene with narrowed eyes. However, Kristina was not displeased; instead, she seemed to feel an even greater trust in Eugene’s gaze.

“We believe it is possible,” Eugene proclaimed.

He lifted Levantein to his side. The flames within the glass blade surged and blazed fiercely.

“What do you think?” Eugene asked.

The question was not directed at the Demon King of Incarceration.

“Molon,” Eugene finished.

A great crack tore through the darkness that had settled over the throne room, spreading rapidly before shattering loudly.

“Such a foolish question, Hamel.”

A man with a bushy beard, long hair, and a towering figure leaped into the throne room from the darkness.

“Does saving the world and Vermouth need justification?” he asked.

Molon was not present physically, but he had heard everything through Eugene. With a rumble, he landed beside Eugene and glared up at the Demon King of Incarceration.

“If it means fighting the Demon King of Incarceration to accomplish that, then of course we must fight,” he declared.

A massive axe, slightly chipped at the edge, rested on Molon’s shoulder.

“So it is possible,” he declared. He bared his teeth in a grin.

The throne was no more. The Demon King of Incarceration stood on the empty stairs as he looked down.

There stood Molon Ruhr of Terror, Sienna Merdein of Calamity, Anise Slywood of Hell, and Kristina Rogeris, who had transcended false deification to reach true sainthood. There stood Eugene Lionheart, once the War God Agaroth and Hamel Dynas of Extermination.

“Is that so?” The Demon King of Incarceration chuckled while shaking his head.

Creak, creak….

The chains began to stir. The darkness enveloping the throne room trembled. All chains embedded in the space began to connect to the Demon King of Incarceration.

The power of Helmuth concentrated on the Demon King of Incarceration. The dark power that permeated the empire and drove its forces returned to its original master.

Booooom.

With a thunderous sound, the Demon King of Incarceration stepped down from the stairs. An overwhelming presence pressed down on everyone, but no one flinched. They faced the eternal Great Demon King, the Emperor of Helmuth. Such a formidable presence was expected.

“Things are different from three hundred years ago,” the Demon King said.

Those who had reached the throne back then were insignificant. By human standards, they were formidable, but from the Demon King of Incarceration’s perspective, they were trivial. However, their sense of mission had been commendable. Their convictions were strong, their hatred profound, their venom impressive.

But what about now? Their sense of mission, conviction, hatred, and venom were all greater than in the past.

But….

“Just because it’s different, do you think you will be able to change the outcome?” the Demon King of Incarceration asked.

He chuckled as he continued down the stairs. Molon took the lead, as he always had, exhaling sharply as he gripped his axe with both hands.

Crack…!

He clenched the handle with all his might while the axe trembled and glowed. Eugene’s divine power moved according to Molon’s will.

Then, Molon charged at the Demon King of Incarceration.