Chapter 615: Vermouth Lionheart (7)
“Ah...!" Vermouth exclaimed.
Indeed, the dragon was swift. The vast battlefield began to recede behind them in an instant. Vermouth glanced back. He could not entirely shake off the continuous shouts coming from behind.
"Did you want to stay there longer?" Eugene asked sarcastically.
"No... that's not it...,” Vermouth replied.
Though he harbored many secrets and bore considerable anguish, Vermouth Lionheart was not one for social graces. He had let tears escape because he had been overwhelmed by surging emotions. But knowing how to handle what came next was a monumental challenge for him. Then suddenly, he found himself abruptly hoisted onto the back of a dragon by Eugene and his comrades.
‘A dragon...,’ Vermouth thought with a grim expression.
The realization that he was riding a dragon brought a strange feeling, considering that the Demon King of Destruction had nearly eradicated them all. Of course, Vermouth no longer considered himself an avatar of Destruction and felt no guilt about the past; it had been the same even three hundred years ago.
But that was merely Vermouth's point of view. Wouldn’t any surviving dragons have every reason to hold a grudge against him?
‘Not just dragons either ,’ he thought.
Vermouth cleared his throat awkwardly as he turned his gaze towards a little girl who sat between Sienna and Eugene. The girl giggled merrily.
"That girl is... Sienna, she is a familiar you created, isn't she?" Vermouth asked.
"My name is Mer," Mer answered immediately. She looked at Vermouth with sparkling eyes as if she had been waiting for this moment. "My first name is Mer, and for now, my last name is Merdein. Mer Merdein."
"For now...?" Vermouth asked, confused.
"Soon, it will be Mer Lionheart," Mer replied brightly.
She laughed happily while pulling Eugene and Sienna’s arms around her. Eugene closed his eyes without saying a word while Sienna blushed and dropped her head.
"I see,” Vermouth commented.
Everyone was in the know about the feelings Sienna harbored for Hamel since three hundred years ago. Vermouth smiled knowingly and nodded.
"Is this dragon... one... that survived from three hundred years ago?" Vermouth asked.
"No,” Eugene answered.
It wasn’t as if Vermouth was the keeper of all knowledge. Eugene opened his eyes and gently stroked Raimira’s scales.
"Do you remember Raizakia?" he asked.
"How could I forget?” Vermouth responded.
The Demonic Dragon Raizakia.
Even after Helmuth became an empire, Raizakia shunned humans and named himself the Black Dragon Duke upon receiving the title of duke. He was a dragon that reached the pinnacle of misanthropy. Vermouth had pondered in the past whether he should kill Raizakia for the sake of the future.
"She is Raizakia's daughter,” Eugene said.
[Oh, Great Vermouth, this lady is called Raimira!]
The fact that the legendary Vermouth from the fairy tale took an interest in her elicited a bright voice from Raimira. Vermouth’s cheeks twitched after hearing their answers. He was grappling with several doubts. Vermouth was well aware of what the demons called him: Vermouth of Despair . He wondered why Raizakia's daughter showed him such reverence when he had been a figure of fear among the demonfolk and earned himself such an ominous nickname.
And then....
"Isn’t Raizakia dead?" Vermouth asked tentatively.
"I killed him," Eugene answered with a calm expression.
[Even thinking about it now, the Black Dragon Duke deserved to die,] Raimira also responded nonchalantly.
She never had any familial affection for Raizakia to speak of, and she knew what schemes the Black Dragon Duke had harbored.
"I see...." Vermouth reluctantly nodded.
He could somewhat understand. If the dragon could allow her father’s killer to ride her, why couldn’t she accept the one responsible for nearly wiping out her race?
"Hmm... Hamel, they're still calling us,” commented Vermouth.
"Your hearing is sharp. You can still hear them from this distance?" Eugene asked, surprised.
"There are also some people following us from behind,” Vermouth said while pointing behind them.
Indeed, Vermouth's words were true. Several figures were pursuing them from afar, with Melkith in the lead. Eugene gestured towards Sienna with a face full of disgust.
"Drop them,” he ordered.
"Okay,” Sienna answered.
Knowing that Melkith was leading the pursuers made it easier for Sienna to cast aside any hesitation. The beam of light she fired exploded upon making contact with Melkith.
Kyaaaaah.... With a long scream, Melkith plummeted downward.
"I-is this really okay?" Vermouth stuttered.
Everything that was happening was hard to grasp with common sense.
"It is,” came the answer.
Vermouth was restrained by common sense only because he did not know what kind of person Melkith El-Hayah was. Eugene clicked his tongue in disgust and slapped Vermouth's back hard.
"I just saved you, got it?" he said.
"Why are you saying that all of a sudden...?" Vermouth asked, perplexed.
"Not from the Demon King of Destruction, but from losing human dignity... and from shame... that's what I saved you from,” Eugene explained.
There was a time in the past when he had a conversation with Melkith and asked her a question: Which of the heroes from three hundred years ago did she respect the most? Naturally, any wizard would say the Wise Sienna, but Melkith had been an exception. Melkith had replied that her most respected hero was the Great Vermouth. The reason being that Vermouth had made a pact with the Wind Spirit King, Tempest.
The world spoke of the Great Vermouth as a warrior and a knight, but Melkith thought otherwise. The Great Vermouth was a grand spirit wizard, having forged a contract with the Wind Spirit King. In fact, Melkith’s obsession with Tempest stemmed from Vermouth.
So what would happen when she actually met Vermouth, whom she had admired since childhood? Eugene couldn’t even begin to imagine the frenzy that Melkith would create.
"Everything should take care of itself if we stay away for about a month,“ Eugene said firmly. He smiled contentedly after confirming that there were no more pursuers on their tail.
"Take care of itself?" Vermouth asked, still stunned.
"Do you think a war just ends with a victory? There's a lot that happens afterward,” said Eugene.
"That's obvious..." muttered Vermouth.
"What's obvious?! I hate dealing with that stuff. I'm good at fighting and killing Demon Kings, not cleanup or politics.... I hate that,” said Eugene.
"While we were fighting on the ground, the pope and the emperor stayed within their territories. It's their duty to handle the aftermath," Anise agreed and supported Eugene's words with a nod.
Molon, Sienna, and Kristina did not say anything, but the relief on their faces showed they were glad to have escaped. Vermouth looked around at his companions' faces and let out a hollow laugh.
“Three hundred years ago, we had many discussions about a grand procession,” said Vermouth.
"It’s been ages since then. You had your procession after I died, didn't you?" Eugene accused.
"Well, some idiot chose to die alone, so it wasn’t any joyous procession,” Sienna grumbled as if for Eugene to hear, but he, as usual, pretended not to hear.
"And Vermouth, while you were gone, I've already experienced a few similar things. I'm so sick of it,” Eugene complained.
He had been forced into embarrassingly grand marches after he killed the new Demon King of Fury and after he liberated Hauria. Eugene shuddered at the thought of the Platinum Lion tucked away in the corner of the Lionheart mansion.
"Why do you ask? Do you want to have a procession since it’ll be the first with all of us together?” Eugene asked.
The war with the Demon King was truly over. As they had always hoped, everyone had returned together. This thought made Eugene feel slightly regretful about the absence of a march, but—
‘No,’ he thought to himself firmly.
He quickly shook off the regret. The upcoming procession would undoubtedly be the most magnificent in history, and definitely with the Platinum Lion at the forefront of the march. Eugene absolutely did not want to be waving his hand with a forced smile atop a damned float.
"I don't want to either,” Vermouth said with a bitter smile.
He had attended endless events three hundred years ago, disregarding his feelings for such events as they were necessary. But truthfully, even he despised such events.
"What will we do about that?" Kristina asked while looking down.
The Demon King of Incarceration had moved the capital of Helmuth, Pandemonium. It lay in ruins on the surface.
"Just bulldoze it over,” Eugene said without a second thought.
The forest of buildings in Pandemonium had been the symbol of Helmuth, but it was now gone. Since the Demon King of Incarceration had killed all the demons who had participated in the war, what lay below was nothing more than a spooky ghost town without survivors.
"What about Helmuth?" Kristina asked.
"Is dividing the territory a bit too much?" Eugene wondered.
"It's not just a city. It's an empire. Where it’s located is a bit awkward as well,” Molon stroked his beard thoughtfully as he answered. After all, he had not become a king just because of his sheer size.
"If we bring it to the table, the kings of the continent will be tripping over themselves to get a slice. Though our presence ensures it won't escalate into war, someone is bound to get angry,” said Molon.
"The Emperor of Kiehl is quite greedy."
Eugene felt subtle glances directed his way. He immediately straightened up and shook his head.
"Don't even start talking to me about playing king,” he said.
"I didn't say anything,” responded Anise.
"Your expression says it all. I'm absolutely not doing it. If you really need someone, there are still demons left in Helmuth. Pick one of them,” suggested Eugene.
"Do you know any demons?" Sienna challenged.
"Would I? It's a shame Balzac is dead. If he were alive, I would have made him King of Helmuth," muttered Eugene.
"I made a promise with Balzac,” Sienna spoke up with a serious expression.
"What promise?" Eugene asked curiously.
"To write him a fairy tale,” Sienna answered.
"What, to name him the Legendary Balzac ?" Eugene asked sarcastically.
"How did you know?" Sienna asked with a startled expression.
Surely, he wasn't serious about leaving behind the name the Legendary Balzac ? Well, it was still better than the Stupid Hamel....
Eugene muttered with a wry expression, "Well... it's a cool name. Can't argue with him since he's dead."
"Better than the Cunning Balzac , isn't it?" Sienna said.
"Just go with the Legendary Balzac . Anyway, I have no interest in ruling Helmuth. Anyone here interested?" Eugene asked.
No one raised their hand. Eugene glanced at Vermouth, just in case. Since Vermouth's body was originally that of the Demon King of Incarceration, it seemed like a reasonable idea that he might rule Helmuth.
"I don't want it either," Vermouth said.
"Then let's not worry about it. They'll figure it out themselves,” Eugene said with a shrug.
With Eugene holding the chains that controlled the demons, there was no need to worry about a rebellion.
"Still... it's a bit regrettable about Babel,” Eugene commented.
"Babel? Why?" Sienna asked, confused.
"I made a promise to Lady Ancilla. I was going to give her Babel as a gift,” Eugene answered.
The Lionheart family home had been turned into a mess by the elves and dwarves. But since it couldn’t be helped, he had made a promise to Ancilla to find her a suitable place. But now that Babel had collapsed completely, he couldn't even offer that even if he wanted to.
"We'll just have to build a new one,” Eugene said firmly.
"Got a spot picked out?" Sienna asked.
"Somewhere with a forest and a river flowing—" Eugene started to answer with a stern face.
Sienna's fist jabbed into his side.
"So where are we headed?" Kristina spoke up while sneakily pulling out a bottle of liquor from inside her robe. The mere appearance of the bottle drew everyone closer.
"Let's go somewhere secluded and rest for a bit.”
"Bring out the liquor first."
"Hamel, I know you stashed a bottle in your cloak before you stepped onto the battlefield,” said Anise.
"Wait a moment..." Vermouth, who had been listening to the conversation joyfully, suddenly spoke up. "You had it prepared in advance?"
"So?” Eugene shot back.
"Is there a problem?" Kristina asked, confused.
"You mean to tell me... before fighting the Demon King of Destruction... you had already stashed away a bottle?" Vermouth asked.
"Bastard, have you forgotten everything from being sealed away for hundreds of years?" Eugene clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Didn't we always do that in the old days? We always brought liquor before fighting a Demon King."
"Drink before dying or after killing."
"That's true, but...." Vermouth's eyes wavered.
Indeed, that was how it used to be. But to have liquor ready just before the final battle that could determine the fate of the world and their comrades....
"So, you're not going to drink it?" Eugene asked.
"If you give it... I'll drink,” Vermouth said with a smile.
"Yeah, but not now. If we're going to drink, we'll do it later. We’ll just share one bottle for now,” said Eugene.
The last drinking session had taught Eugene a lot. Drinking now in their less-than-ideal state could repeat history once more.
"So... after we rest, where do we go?" Vermouth inquired.
Unable to resist liquor, Anise was the first to open the bottle. She took one sip, then another.
"Why are you drinking twice when there's not much?" Eugene sounded annoyed.
"This is the liquor Kristina brought out. And I didn't drink twice. Once for me, once for Kristina. Understand?" Anise said with a giggle.
Sharing one body had its moments.
"I’m going to head to the World Tree,” Sienna said.
She passed the bottle she had sipped from to the side.
"I’ve said my farewell, but you should still report back. Then there's Raguyaran... and the distant seas to visit,” said Eugene.
He smiled faintly when he recalled Vishur in deep slumber. It almost felt like he could hear the laughter of Light from afar.
"We need to check on Lehainjar. My descendants are there, aren't they?" Molon said.
Eugene passed the bottle to Molon. After taking a swig, he handed it to Vermouth.
"If possible, I'd like to check on Ravesta too. There might be nothing left there now... but still, I want to see it with my own eyes,” Vermouth answered with a bitter smile.
Ravesta was where Vermouth had been sealed for over two hundred years. The demons that had made a pact with the Demon King of Destruction and lived there had perished, and the sealed beasts had died in the war of Hauria. Now, Ravesta was just a small, detached island in the sea. Vermouth knew it as well, but he wanted to see it for himself.
"And after that?"
"Vermouth, isn't there anything else you want to do?"
"Hamel said he wanted to establish an academy."
"Better than a tavern."
"Do you have a problem with my dream?"
"I think it's a wonderful dream."
Amidst the ongoing banter, Vermouth let out a soft laugh.
"What I want to do.... I'll think about it slowly," he murmured.
He had already achieved what he truly wanted. There was no rush for the next . No fate bound Vermouth any longer, nor did the world.
The destruction had ended.