Damn Reincarnation

Vermouth felt the chain binding his soul tighten. Eventually, he came to understand. His body, which was born as the avatar of Destruction, would perish alongside the Demon King of Destruction.

But Vermouth Lionheart would not perish. His soul was no longer an avatar of Destruction. Originally, his body and soul should have disintegrated along with Destruction, but the contract had bound his soul with chains.

"From the beginning…" Vermouth barely managed to say through his trembling lips. "Was this what you aimed for from the start?"

"No,” Eugene answered honestly. "Initially, I had no specific plan. I just didn't want you to die... and I thought perhaps a desperate wish might find a way."

He had not arranged for this to happen from the start. Eugene hadn't fully understood Vermouth's situation, nor had he any guess how the battle might unfold.

"In the end, that desperate wish created a way. I wished it, you wished it... and everyone wished it,” Eugene said.

He turned his head to look at the distant horizon. By everyone, he was referring to all those who had stood against the Demon King of Destruction. They had not forgotten the name Vermouth Lionheart. They had always seen him as the Hero. Vermouth wore a stunned expression as Eugene explained. He couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

"A miracle, you say," he murmured.

A miracle, indeed. Vermouth repeated the word while bowing his head.

For Vermouth, a miracle had always been a double-edged sword. It could be said that a miracle had brought him into existence, but repeated failures and three hundred years of solitude had made him resentful of the word “miracle.” Therefore, Vermouth couldn't see a miracle as hope or salvation. No matter how much he wished, he himself could not bring about a miracle.

"The Demon King of Incarceration,” Vermouth called out.

He raised his head. The Demon King of Incarceration was standing close, gazing at him.

"Now... what happens to me? Do I live as one of your minions?" Vermouth asked.

It was natural for him to be curious. Vermouth well understood what it meant to make a pact with a Demon King and surrender the soul. His soul could be preserved until the Demon King chose to release it, or depending on the Demon King's power, he could be reborn as a vessel. The soul bound to the Demon King would have no freedom.

"No," the Demon King of Incarceration said with a shake of his head. "Vermouth Lionheart, I will not make you one of my vassals. There is no need for that."

"Then what?" Vermouth asked.

"You should know," the Demon King of Incarceration answered with a faint smile. He raised his head and gazed at the crumbling void of the sky before continuing, “You’ve always known what I wanted. Don’t you, Vermouth?”

Vermouth just kept looking at the Demon King without responding.

“Today,” the Demon King of Incarceration began.

However, he couldn’t finish his sentence. He had been worn down by immeasurable despair over eternity. He felt overwhelmed by the rush of emotions. He had longed for it so deeply, and yet, he had believed it would never truly be accomplished. Thus, the Demon King of Incarceration paused and closed his eyes in silence.

Finally, after getting his emotions under control, he declared, “Today… in this world, both the Demon King of Destruction and the Demon King of Incarceration will die.”

He had lived expecting the death of the Demon King of Destruction. In anticipation, he had continued the world over and over. He could never defeat the Demon King of Destruction himself. So, he became a Greater Demon King to test the world before the impending doom.

“There is no longer a reason to start a new era. I have no reason to do so,” the Demon King of Incarceration whispered under his breath.

He chuckled and lowered his head, whispering as he met Vermouth’s gaze, “I have longed for death my whole life. And now… I can finally die. Vermouth, you have nothing to worry about. I will not make your soul one of my vassals, nor do I plan to live on and command you.”

Vermouth wasn’t sure what the Demon King was hinting at.

“Today I will die, and your soul, with which I've made a pact… will dwell in my body,” Incarceration declared.

Vermouth’s eyes widened at the response.

“That’s all. Vermouth, it does not mean I am leaving you the throne of the Demon King. My body will be devoid of any dark power. It will merely serve as a vessel for your soul,” said the Demon King of Incarceration before slowly taking a seat[1]. “My body may not please you as a vessel, but you know as well as I do that this is unavoidable and the best we can do.” 𝐫ＡɴꝊ𝐁Ёś

Even if he was no longer an avatar of Destruction, Vermouth’s soul was exceptional. Most human bodies would not suffice as his vessel.

Then, should a new vessel be specifically fashioned for Vermouth? There was a precedent. Amelia Merwin had created Hamel’s Death Knight. She had crafted a new body that suited him well after she lost his original corpse.

But there was a difference in the size of the souls. No matter how special the prepared vessel was, it could not be tailored to Vermouth’s soul. The only feasible option might be to use the body of a Lionheart, but Vermouth himself would never consider stealing another human’s body. Then what about simply facing death and reincarnating later? That wasn’t even an option worth discussing.

What everyone desired was to return together.

“Is that enough?” Incarceration asked.

After a moment of silence, Vermouth asked with a resigned smile, “Demon King of Incarceration. I know how much… you have anticipated this moment, but can you truly die satisfied?”

He knew it was inevitable. He wasn’t in a position to refuse. Yet, Vermouth felt compelled to ask this to the Demon King of Incarceration.

“Do you think I have any regrets?” The Demon King of Incarceration scoffed in response. “To me, life has been a dreadful burden. I have no intention of enjoying a new life now that I’m unburdened. Perhaps, no, certainly, the world will change… But do I really need to see such a world?”

The Demon King of Incarceration chuckled as he looked at Eugene.

"You have different convictions from mine. You chose a different future and realized it by defeating me and killing the Demon King of Destruction. Thus, all of this should be enjoyed by you, the victors, and I, the loser, should," Incarceration paused. With a clank, the chain connecting to Vermouth pulled towards the Demon King of Incarceration as he finished, "die here."

Vermouth no longer questioned the intentions of the Demon King of Incarceration. He was the original Hero who became the Greater Demon King for the world, and he was satisfied and sought rest. His words and will were without deceit. The Demon King of Incarceration’s response contained no lie.

"Understood," Vermouth said with a nod and gripped the chain. "Demon King of Incarceration. I will forsake that name and inhabit your body. I will live on as Vermouth Lionheart."

There was no hesitation in his response. The Demon King of Incarceration smiled faintly when he saw Vermouth’s bright golden eyes.

He did not compare it to the face he knew from a distant… very distant past. The man whom the Demon King of Incarceration once cherished as a friend had died due to a coincidental disaster. The person before him now was Vermouth Lionheart, who had saved the world three hundred years ago and today had defeated the Demon King of Destruction alongside his comrades.

"Vermouth,” the Demon King of Incarceration smiled as he spoke. "I wish you the life you desire."

Vermouth laughed. He had never imagined he would receive good wishes from the Demon King of Incarceration. He wanted to respond, but he couldn't because his body had completely disintegrated along with Destruction.

"Eugene Lionheart,” the Demon King of Incarceration called. Still smiling, he turned his gaze towards Eugene. He continued while guiding Vermouth’s soul into the vessel of his body through the chain. "Thank you for... killing the Demon King of Destruction."

Eugene remained silent as he gazed at the Demon King of Incarceration. He did not entertain the thought that the Demon King of Incarceration would engage in folly here. There was no reason for the Demon King of Incarceration to betray him now. If any vestige of reluctance caused him to cling to life at the very end, it would be an insult to the eternal life and beliefs the Demon King of Incarceration had pursued. Therefore, the Demon King of Incarceration would never engage in such an act. Eugene was certain of it.

"Thank you for allowing me to die,” the Demon King spoke with a satisfied smile. His answer was free of any lingering attachments or obsessions.

"Rest,” Eugene said. Then, with a smirk, he added, “No…. Go to hell."

The Greater Demon King had lived through eternity, hoping to save the world. He had despaired in his failures and repeated the cycle of rebirthing the world. He had witnessed the deaths of countless, truly numerous lives. Although he couldn’t compare to the Demon King of Destruction, the Demon King of Incarceration had also slain many, enough to fill the world. So, Eugene did not wish for him to rest. The only place for a Demon King to lie was in hell.

"I hope so,” the Demon King of Incarceration responded with a chuckle.

Rumble….

Silence followed his response. The Demon King of Incarceration bowed his head. He seemed devoid of any life. Eugene sat and waited quietly with Molon, the Saints, and Sienna nearby.

Destruction was crumbling. Soon, this place would vanish completely, and Eugene and his companions would exit.

"If I’m standing alone, I really won’t look the part,” Eugene grumbled as he glanced at his legs.

Fortunately, thanks to the Demon King of Destruction's death, his leg had regenerated. The sight of their emergence would become a legend and a myth. It would be long recounted in tales for generations to come. But if he were to be standing awkwardly on one leg as he emerged, future statues of him might also depict him as one-legged. A thousand years from now, he might be known as the One-legged Eugene instead of the Radiant Eugene or the Stupid Hamel.

"Hey, wake up."

Eugene slapped Molon's cheek repeatedly.

It might be a decent sight for him to be supporting three unconscious people and standing unscathed. No, he didn’t like that idea. He was being childish and stubborn, but Eugene sincerely thought so.

“Ugh...."

After a few more slaps, Molon groaned aloud. Eugene laughed brightly as he forcibly sat him up, then started slapping Sienna's cheek.

"Ow, that hurts…."

After about ten slaps, Sienna also came to her senses. Everyone was quick to regain consciousness, thanks to the Demon King of Destruction's dark power having dissipated with his destruction. Eugene had Sienna sit up as she blinked dazedly and raised his hand toward Kristina’s cheeks.

"I-I'm already awake."

This time, there was no need for a slap. Kristina quickly opened her eyes and blocked Eugene's hand.

"La-lady Anise is also within me. So, Sir Eugene, there’s no need to slap my cheek,” she continued.

"My jaw hurts…," Molon muttered as he adjusted his creaking jaw.

"Vermouth!" Sienna suddenly screamed, sporting her swollen cheeks. "Where’s Vermouth?!"

"Isn't there something else you should be asking? Like what happened to the Demon King of Destruction…," responded Eugene.

"Seeing you acting like this, you must have taken care of it just fine! So where is Vermouth?!” Sienna asked.

"Are you more worried about Vermouth even after I fought so hard to defeat Destruction?” Eugene asked glumly.

"Anyone would think you fought alone from the way you talk,” Sienna said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Hey! If fighting were all there was, we would have done it long ago. Why did we go through so much trouble?! It was to save Vermouth! You wanted to save Vermouth! So, what's wrong with me asking where Vermouth is?"

"It gets on my nerves that you’re asking about Vermouth rather than how I’m doing, even though I’m right in front of you…” Eugene grumbled before turning his head and spitting.

"Because you're standing right in front of me, all in one piece.... No, don't tell me you're….” Sienna's lips twitched upwards in amusement. "Are you really jealous?"

"Friends don't get jealous of each other,” responded Eugene.

"Seems to me like you are jealous,” commented Sienna.

"Why the fu—ck would I be jealous? Do you like Vermouth that much?" asked Eugene.

"As a friend, yes,” answered Sienna.

"You like him? As in, really like him? This damn..." Eugene grumbled.

"Hey! So you hate him as a friend? You hate Vermouth?" Sienna retorted.

"I hate him; I absolutely despise the bastard. Once we get out of here, I'm really going to catch him and beat the shit out of him—" Eugene abruptly stopped talking and turned away.

He could sense breaths of air coming from the Demon King of Incarceration. Eugene wasn't the only one who felt it.

"Why is the Demon King of Incarceration sitting here in front of us like this?" Anise asked.

"Is he pretending to be our friend now because he doesn’t want to die?” Sienna chimed in.

Swish….

The hair of the Demon King of Incarceration began to change color in front of everyone. His black hair shifted to ash gray, causing Sienna and Anise to gasp and step back.

"Ve... Vermouth?" Molon stuttered out the name.

Crack….

The body of the Demon King of Incarceration transformed to fit the soul that had newly inhabited it. Vermouth lifted his head and blinked a few times before looking down at his hands.

"Ha... haha..." He couldn't help but laugh. The voice was unmistakably that of Vermouth, known to all.

"Vermouth!" Molon embraced Vermouth with a broad grin.

"How much did you hear?" Eugene asked with slightly narrowed eyes. Though he was happy, he had to have his priorities straight.

"From the beginning,” Vermouth answered.

"Well, I didn't say anything I shouldn't have,” retorted Eugene.

"How badly do you want to beat me up?" Vermouth asked with a laugh, and Eugene responded not with words but by casually flipping him the middle finger.

"What... what the hell happened?" Sienna asked in wonder.

"Why has Sir Vermouth become the Demon King of Incarceration? Or rather, has the Demon King of Incarceration become Sir Vermouth?" Anise asked, sounding confused.

The two weren’t able to get a grasp on the situation. But instead of answering, Eugene pushed himself up from the ground.

"We'll talk later. First, stand up,” he ordered.

"Why?" Sienna questioned.

"If we go out there looking slumped, it'll look pathetic,” Eugene answered.

"Is that really what’s important?" Anise asked.

"Of course, it's important,” Eugene said without hesitation. He firmly urged Sienna and Anise to their feet.

"Anise, hand over that body to Kristina first. Then, stand behind her as an angel,” Eugene commanded.

"Excuse me?" Anise said, startled.

"Don't tell me you plan to hide inside Kristina even at this last moment?" Eugene remarked.

"But... what's wrong with that? I don't particularly want to become known to the world..." Anise replied.

"I don't like it.”

[I don't like it either.]

Eugene and Kristina responded simultaneously.

"You've suffered just as we have. Shouldn't the world know about it?" Eugene asked.

[I couldn't have done anything by myself. I could only be here today because of you, Sister,] Kristina chimed in.

"Ah... but…." Anise hesitated to agree.

The reason was simple. She had done many things that might be considered disgraceful while inhabiting Kristina's body, and if it became known that she had been inhabiting Kristina’s body as an angel... wouldn’t that tarnish the name the Faithful Anise that had been revered for three hundred years?

"Hurry up before I have to drag you out!" Eugene shouted.

"Why are you rushing me like this!?" Anise asked, distressed.

"It's all come crumbling down already!" Eugene pointed to the gaping ceiling and screamed.

It was true they didn't have much time. The space around them was crumbling after the death of the Demon King of Destruction, and the outside scenery was starting to blur into view. At first glance, it seemed like all the Nur had vanished, and everyone was awaiting the return of the heroes right outside.

"Technology now is much better than in our time. The images of us emerging from this space will be magically extracted and revealed to the world. They'll become photographs, whether in newspapers or broadcasts,” Eugene said.

"Why are you bringing up your ambitions right now…?!"

"Hey! Do you think I'm doing this just for myself? It's for all of us! To show that we've returned. Together!" Eugene responded.

To think he would speak so openly! Anise’s face burned with embarrassment.

"You should have said that earlier...!" She said.

[Oh, Sir Eugene, how beautiful is your heart…!] Kristina exclaimed.

Anise could not help but sympathize with Kristina’s joy. She genuinely found Hamel to be charming and adorable. After transferring control of the body to Kristina, Anise took on her angelic form and flew behind Kristina.

"Ahem…." Sienna cleared her throat and discreetly moved closer to Eugene. Kristina was about to stand on the opposite side of Eugene. She suddenly burst into a short laugh and instead stood beside Sienna.

[Sir Vermouth,] Anise called out Vermouth's name with a bright smile. [Please stand beside Hamel.]

"Why next to me?" Eugene questioned.

[We’ve put so much effort into rescuing Sir Vermouth, so shouldn’t we display it to everyone? That we've defeated the Demon King of Destruction, saved the world, and even rescued Sir Vermouth,] Anise replied.

"That makes sense,” Eugene acknowledged.

Eugene helped Vermouth to his feet.

"Should I hold the axe?" Molon asked with a serious expression while taking his place next to Vermouth." I don't have an axe right now."

"Why do you need an axe? It’s not like you’re going to kill anyone,” responded Eugene.

"Then, Hamel, why are you holding your Divine Sword if you're not planning to kill anyone either?" retorted Molon.

"I'm in the center. I should at least hold my sword high,” responded Eugene.

"Hamel, I haven't seen it directly, but I've seen the statue you left in Shimuin in a photograph,” Molon said suddenly.

"And?" asked Eugene.

"Honestly, I thought it looked really tacky,” Molon responded.

Crack.

A sound escaped between Eugene's teeth.

"And you think the statue you left in the capital city isn't tacky? Why the fuck did you put me in there?” Eugene asked through gritted teeth.

"I even named the capital after you to honor your sacrifice,” said Molon.

"Your statues in Ruhr! The ones with the axe raised! Those are damn tacky too!" Eugene shouted.

"It’s all the same. Can you all just quiet down?" Sienna interrupted their banter.

"You think you’re the exception, huh? Hey! Sienna, I'm talking about that green square. You’re there holding a staff, too!" Eugene shouted.

"I never posed for that! Why are you giving me crap for something they made up on their own?" Sienna retorted.

"Enough,” Kristina interjected, unable to listen to the childish quarrel any longer. She smiled refreshingly while gazing at the increasingly distinct scenery outside. "Why don’t we all just put our arms around each other’s shoulders?"

"Around the shoulders?" Eugene asked.

"Yes. Haven’t we all returned together just as we wished?" Kristina said.

Kristina gave a demonstration. She draped her arm over Sienna's shoulder and gently brushed across Eugene’s lower back. Eugene felt a shiver run through him as he tentatively raised his hand to grasp Sienna’s shoulder.

[We need to get a bit closer,] Anise chimed in.

She subtly leaned forward and stood behind Sienna. She placed her hands on Eugene and Kristina’s shoulders. Suddenly, Sienna found herself tightly sandwiched in the middle, unable to move.

"Hmm…." Vermouth debated whether to drape his hand over Eugene’s neck or just lightly touch his left shoulder. He suddenly made eye contact with Kristina as he glanced over Eugene’s shoulder.

"Is that so?" Vermouth murmured.

He nodded calmly with a serene expression. He understood perfectly what Kristina indicated and quietly placed his hand just on Eugene’s shoulder. Molon did the same.

"Perfect,” Kristina nodded.

'Is it really perfect?' Only Sienna, sandwiched between Eugene and Kristina with Anise at her back, felt doubtful. 'This is a disaster.'

A roar of cheers erupted as they emerged outside. Under the scrutiny of countless eyes, Eugene thought:

If this moment is captured in a photograph.

The title would be: The Most Awkward Hero and His Companions in the World.

1. Not sure where he found something to sit on. ☜

Openbookworm & DantheMan's Thoughts

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