Chapter 85
Doynes did not enter the shrine along with the others.
“How could someone like me, who isn’t even the Patriarch, dare to examine the remains of our great ancestor?” Doynes said. He shook his head while releasing a long sigh, then he bowed his head toward Kristina.
Eguene didn’t say anything useless, and just quietly stuck to Kristina’s side.
‘After having come this far, there’s no way that they’ll turn to me and give me some bullshit about not being allowed to accompany them in, right?’
Eugene told himself this, but he still decided that it was best to be cautious. So far, things had worked out quite well for him. If he was kicked out now, right at the most important moment, he would no longer just stop at having no faith in God — Eugene would be actively hostile to the divine being.
While he was entertaining such thoughts, Eugene glanced at Gilead’s back. He thought with some concern, ‘It must be very stressful for him.’
The memory from earlier, of Gilead angrily defending the safety of Eugene as if he was Gilead’s real son, lingered in Eugene’s mind. Since Eugene already had Gerhard, he couldn’t really think of Gilead as his father.
However, he acknowledged the fact that Gilead was a good person, and he had sensed a lot of concern and fatherly love coming from Gilead. That was why he couldn’t help but feel that Gilead was in a very pitiful position. The eldest son had smeared shit all over the face of his father and his clan, and now a Saint who had come to visit was stubbornly insisting on opening up their ancestor’s grave.
‘Becoming a Patriarch? Like hell I would do that. Absolutely never,’ Eugene swore as he felt a shudder run down his back.
Setting aside his pity and any other emotions, Eugene reaffirmed his decision once more. If he was forced to join the Knights of the Black Lion instead, he could deal with it, but he absolutely couldn’t bear becoming the Patriarch.
No, he didn’t even want to become a Knight of the Black Lion either. Eugene just wanted to live his life the way he wanted to.
“What a mysterious place.” Having been following Gilead silently, Kristina suddenly spoke up. “A subspace of this size…. It has a sky and a field, flowers, and even a shrine…. Although it all looks gorgeous at first glance, the appearances are only skin-deep. In fact, there seem to be no decorations within the shrine either.”
“…That was the will of our great ancestor,” Gilead admitted in a quiet voice. “He forbade all of his descendants from decorating his tomb, and he also forbade the Lionheart clan as a whole from adding any ornamentation. He also told us that we are not to worship his tomb, nor use it as a symbol of our respect for him.”
“…Worship and a symbol…,” Kristina muttered. “It seemed that he truly wanted to avoid becoming an idol[1].”
“Normally, even the statue of Sir Hamel would not be allowed to be placed here. However, strictly speaking, it’s not a decoration arranged by his descendants, nor is it an ornament arranged by the Lionheart clan…” Gilead paused for a moment and looked back at Eugene. “..after all, the fact that Eugene is a disciple of the Wise Sienna takes precedence over his identity as one of Vermouth’s descendants. Also, as the last to pay tribute to Sir Hamel’s grave, my son has inherited the right to decide what to do with the recovered artifacts. That is the decision that the Council and I have come to on this matter.”
“What a beautiful compromise,” Kristina said with a bright smile.
The atmosphere around the three was still chilly, but she smiled without any sign of restraint.
“To think that a friendship from three hundred years ago would be resurrected here. To think that Hamel’s grave was lost to the entire world…. For Sir Eugene to have found his way into the grave, it surely must have been God’s will,” Kristina confidently stated.
“…Was the fact that Sir Hamel’s grave was damaged and his body desecrated in order to create a Death Knight, also part of God’s will?” Eugene asked with a bitter expression.
At this snide response, Kristina slowly shook her head and replied, “Of course that was not God’s will. That was why he used you as a ray of light to illuminate the darkness lurking so deep underground.”
What amazing leaps of logic. Eugene just snorted and shook his head. Anise had been just as blatant as Kristina in using her god as her excuse for anything.
‘Even so, I was never once able to win an argument with her,’ Eugene complained to himself.
Could shitty logic and stubborn rhetoric be the basic skills taught to all clergy? For now, Eugene couldn’t help but assume that this was the case, having seen such examples in both Anise and Kristina.
‘…It does look pretty shabby,’ Eugene noted as his eyes roamed around the interior of the shrine.
Just like Kristina had said, while the shrine seemed very grand on the outside, it was pretty shabby on the inside. There weren’t any of the common murals or paintings that usually decorated shrine walls, and no patterns had been engraved onto any of the pillars.
Eugene felt that something like this better suited Vermouth’s personality than something extravagant. Then, he recalled Hamel’s grave, which had already crumbled into ruins. Before it had been demolished, it looked to have been a pretty decent grave. There had been a statue and even a memorial stone dedicated to Hamel. The pillars and walls had also been carved with Anise’s prayers and Sienna’s magic formations.
However, this shrine had absolutely no decoration. There weren’t even any prayers written down, and he couldn’t see a memorial stone either. On the stone statue of Vermouth that stood in front of the strone, the only thing engraved below the statue in an impersonal handwriting was his own name, Vermouth Lionheart.
Vermouth Lionheart.
The handwriting that this name had been written in matched Vermouth’s handwriting from Eugene’s memories. Recalling what was written on the stone in Hamel’s grave….
Vermouth had to have written the name on his tombstone with his own hands. Eugene had a hard time imagining what that had felt like.
“…Wait here for a few moments,” Gilead instructed as he came to a halt.
Within the shrine, a white coffin had been placed right in the center. After staring at the coffin for a few moments, Gilead slowly knelt down. Although Gilead didn’t tell him to follow suit, Eugene also got onto his knees.
He was paying his respects not to his ancestor, but to his deceased comrade… an old friend. Eugene felt a complicated feeling stir within him as he closed his eyes and bowed his head.
Kristina was also doing the same thing. She had gently gotten down onto her knees and placed her hands together in front of her chest in a prayer. For a brief moment, all three of them spent some time paying their respects to the deceased.
After a while, Gilead was the first to rise. As he tried to quell the feelings that surged within him, Gilead turned towards Kristina.
“…Come closer,” Gilead instructed.
Eugene slowly got up and raised his head as Gilead and Kristina approached the coffin. His heart was pounding from the tension. Eugene couldn’t believe that he would truly be able to check the contents of Vermouth’s coffin so soon.
‘…Please,’ Eugene pleaded sincerely. ‘Just… please be lying peacefully inside the coffin. Whether it’s an intact corpse or a mummy, whether it’s rotted into a mess or only the bones are left, just about anything would be fine. As long as your corpse… is still lying here.’
If Vermouth really was lying in his coffin, then Eugene could finally be relieved of these suspicions that he couldn’t bear to believe were true.
Who was the one who had placed the Moonlight Sword in Hamel’s grave?
The one who had clashed with Sienna in the process of doing so?
…The one who had made some stupid fucking promise… with the Demon King of Incarceration?
“I’m opening it now,” Gilead nervously declared.
If Vermouth really had passed away and was lying in there, that alone would be enough to give Eugene some peace of mind.
Even if Vermouth had been involved in his reincarnation, that wasn’t something that Eugene could really blame him for.
However, what if Vermouth truly was the one who had fought with Sienna, a comrade with whom they had both gone through so many hardships, and had forced Sienna to have no choice but to retreat?
Then, there was how that motherfucker Incarceration had talked about being friendly with Vermouth. If the person that the Demon King had flapped his lips about and acted like he was in a close relationship with, really was Vermouth.
‘Then I’ll….’
Then Eugene definitely wouldn’t be able to accept it. He wouldn’t even try to accept it. He wouldn’t want to understand it. And he wouldn’t be able to understand even if he wanted to.
Because it was him, then Vermouth couldn’t be allowed to do something like that. If it were anyone else, then they shouldn’t do that either, but Vermouth, he especially, definitely couldn’t be allowed to do something like that.
The Demon King Slayer. The Hero. God’s Chosen. The God-of-War. The Master-of-All.
The Great Vermouth.
He definitely, definitely couldn’t be….
“…As expected,” Kristina let out a long sigh as she saw the contents of the coffin.
Gilead staggered backward in shock.
Eugene finally closed his intensely stinging eyes. Blood dripped down from his tight fists. He unclenched his fists once, then clenched them again to stop the blood from dripping and hide the wounds.
“There’s nothing inside here,” Kristina voiced the obvious.
Creak.
It sounded like Eugene’s molars were about to shatter under the strain. But at the moment, Eugene felt like he wouldn’t care even if they did shatter. Without any regard for the clan or for proper etiquette, he wanted to tear down this shrine and smash it into pieces.
No. He just didn’t want to stay here any longer.
“…Since three hundred years have passed… it’s possible that not even the body was left…,” Gilead croaked out in a trembling voice. From his tone, they could feel that even he wasn’t confident in what he was saying.
“I have heard stories where the remains of holy figures sublimated and disappeared,” Kristina conceded as she looked down into the empty coffin. “…However… if that truly was the case, then the soul of the Great Vermouth should have already entered Heaven.”
“…,” Gilead was silent in the face of this cogent argument..
“At the very least, what we can be certain about, is that Sir Vermouth was not laid to rest here,” Kristina stated firmly.
Gilead’s eyes wavered. His lips flapped soundlessly, unsure of what to say, and his gaze kept switching between looking at the empty coffin and at Kristina’s face.
Eventually Gilead managed to squeeze out the words, “…Are you saying… that our ancestor didn’t die, and instead just disappeared?”
“Although I don’t know what his reasons were for doing so, at the moment, I have no choice but to assume that,” Kristina said as she turned around. Without any trace of amusement on her face, she gazed up at the ceiling for a few moments.
When her lips parted once more, she called out a name. “Eugene Lionheart.”
Eugene opened and closed his blood-stained fists again, then raised his head to look at Kristina.
He had already guessed that this would be the result of their check. He hadn’t wanted to believe it was true, but there were too many events involving Eugene that couldn’t have been possible without Vermouth having been behind them.
Hamel’s keepsake left in the main family’s treasure house; Sienna defeated; the Moonlight Sword stored in Hamel’s grave; all of these things couldn’t have been done without Vermouth’s involvement.
The problem was… why had he done these things? If his sole purpose was to reincarnate Hamel, there was no reason for Vermouth to have kept such secrecy. They were Sienna, Anise, and Molon — if Vermouth had just explained the situation to them, even if they didn’t understand what he was doing, they would have at least accepted it.
But Vermouth hadn’t done that. What was even more damning was the fact that the Demon King of Incarceration knew about Hamel’s reincarnation, while his own comrades probably had no clue.
All of these discoveries made Eugene feel like shit.
He tried his best to control his emotions, and stopped his killing intent from leaking. However, he had no attention to spare for his facial expression. His face felt awkward and unfamiliar to him, as if he was wearing a mask. Unconsciously, Eugene reached up and touched his own cheek. His blood, which had yet to dry up, was smeared across his cheek.
“…Allow me to disclose the rest of the revelation,” Kristina continued speaking. “Eugene Lionheart, from this moment on, I declare you to be the successor of the Great Vermouth, and our next Hero.”
What the hell—
“This declaration is made by the will of the God of Light, who has sent down His revelation, and it has also been recognized by His Holiness the Pope. As the Demon King of Incarceration has yet to take any action other than a warning, we cannot announce this to the world, but I am to accompany you as Saint of the Holy Empire and Witness of the Light,” Katrina proclaimed one-sidedly.
—was she talking about now?
Eugene snorted and glared at Kristina. Gilead was unable to hide his surprise as his gaze shifted between Eugene and Kristina.
“…The next Hero? What in the world do you…?” Gilead trailed off in confusion.
“At a time like this, when the Demon King of Incarceration has issued such a warning, Sir Eugene’s existence is by no means a coincidence,” Kristina stated confidently.
These words rang a huge alarm bell in Gilead’s chest. This was embarrassing to admit, but Gilead had also thought the same thing at several points. Eugene Lionheart, the son that he had adopted six years ago… was so amazing that his accomplishments were unrivaled in the three hundred years of history of the Lionheart Clan.
“This isn’t part of God’s revelation, but… I believe that Sir Eugene might even be the reincarnation of Vermouth,” Kristina held her cross-headed wand tightly in front of her chest as she continued speaking. “If that was the case, it would also explain why the great hero’s soul has not entered heaven. In order to address the imminent crisis that the world is about to face, the hero’s soul has reincarnated itself in the body of his descendant.”
“…Haha….” Eugene had decided to hear her out, but now he was so perplexed that he couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity.
If there really was such a thing as fate, then the current Eugene had to be right in the middle of a whirlwind of fate.
But so what? Whether this fate was like a whirlwind or a spider’s web, did he really need to follow it blindly? Eugene would definitely never be willing to do something like that. He wished that he could meet in person with whatever god of light who had sent down this revelation. If they were going to throw out such nonsensical bullshit—
“…then they should at least get my permission first. Fucking what? A hero? What a load of bullshit,” Eugene cursed.
These words didn’t just stay in his head, Eugene spat them out for all to hear. And after spilling these words… Eugene didn’t gasp in surprise. He had fully intended to say these words out loud. Gilead had a shocked expression on his face, but right now, Eugene hardly gave a damn about his foster father’s position on the matter.
“The Great — Ha ha ha! You’re saying that I’m the Great Vermouth’s reincarnation? Me?” Eugene asked incredulously. “Hey now, Auxiliary Bishop Kristina — no, would that be Saint Kristina?”
“…” Kristina blinked, but said nothing.
“Please don’t spout such bullshit. On what grounds are you claiming that I’m someone’s reincarnation? And what right does your god have, just how great does he think he is, that he picks me, who’s doing just fine all on his own, and declares me a hero or whatever, without even asking for my consent?” Eugene demanded angrily.
Kristina waited for him to finish before calmly responding. “…It is just my opinion that Sir Eugene may be the reincarnation of the Hero. Even if you are angry at him right now, please do not take my God’s revelation lightly.”
“No. In any case, I’m not a believer in the god of light, I have no intention of converting to him, and I don’t have any thoughts about going to heaven, so I’m just going to keep on doing what I already had planned,” Eugene insisted with a derisive snort as he shook the blood off of his hands. “I’m just me, Eugene Lionheart. If you need a hero to replace my great ancestor, then get someone else to do it. You can just pick someone out of a crowd and call them a hero. If no one really catches your eye, then maybe that almighty and powerful god of yours can descend personally to do the job himself.”
“Sir Eugene,” Kristina said, protesting his blasphemy.
“I haven’t finished speaking yet. No matter what you’ve based it on, I have no desire to foolishly claim to be a hero in front of the public. I’m not honored by the offer, and I’m not happy with it either. I’m just me, and this is my life. I’m going to live my life by doing what I want to do,” spitting out these words, Eugene then turned towards Gilead.
“I’m very sorry for my harsh words, Lord Patriarch. But I believe that I’ve made my position clear, so I hope that you can accept my refusal of her offer. Speaking of which, now that it’s come up, I have no intention of becoming the Patriarch in place of Cyan, and I have no desire to become a member of the Knights of the Black Lion, either. That said, I will not do anything that may somehow dishonor the family, nor will I do anything to bring shame to the Patriarch’s face, so I hope that you will continue to trust me and support me as you have been doing thus far.”
“…I… of course… I will always respect your decision,” Gilead replied after finally overcoming his astonishment.
Eugene smiled brightly at these words, and then wiped away the blood smeared across his cheek with the back of his hand.
“So anyways, Saint Kristina. Please pass my message on to your almighty God of Light,” Eugene politely requested.
Hesitantly, Kristina inquired, “…What would you like me to say to him…?”
“Just this,” Eugene said as he held up a hand that was still stained with blood and lifted his middle finger. “Also, please tell him that I said ‘fuck you.’”
Having just managed to get over his astonishment, Gilead’s jaw dropped in shock once again. Kristina just looked at him wide-eyed, unable to say anything in response. Eugene lowered his middle finger and then turned around.
As he left, Eugene called back over his shoulder. “I’ve said all I wanted to say, and it’s late at night, so I’m going to call it quits here and go get some sleep.”
“…What about the statue?” Gilead asked after collecting himself.
Eugene shrugged and laughed, “…I don’t think that Sir Hamel would want to stay at a place where his friend never actually rested.”
Both the statue and the memorial stone, he didn’t want to leave them at a place like this.
1. Idol as in an image or representation of a god that is used as an object of worship. ☜