Doynes did not enter the shrine along with the others.
âHow could someone like me, who isnât even the Patriarch, dare to examine the remains of our great ancestor?â Doynes said. He shook his head while releasing a long sigh, then he bowed his head toward Kristina.
Eguene didnât say anything useless, and just quietly stuck to Kristinaâs side.
âAfter having come this far, thereâs no way that theyâll turn to me and give me some bullshit about not being allowed to accompany them in, right?â
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 â Eugene would be actively hostile to the divine being.
While he was entertaining such thoughts, Eugene glanced at Gileadâs back. He thought with some concern, âIt must be very stressful for him.â
The memory from earlier, of Gilead angrily defending the safety of Eugene as if he was Gileadâs real son, lingered in Eugeneâs mind. Since Eugene already had Gerhard, he couldnât 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 couldnât 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 ancestorâs grave.
âBecoming a Patriarch? Like hell I would do that. Absolutely never,â 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 couldnât 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.
âWhat a mysterious place.â Having been following Gilead silently, Kristina suddenly spoke up. âA subspace of this sizeâŚ. It has a sky and a field, flowers, and even a shrineâŚ. 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.â
â...That was the will of our great ancestor,â Gilead admitted in a quiet voice. âHe 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.â
â...Worship and a symbolâŚ,â Kristina muttered. âIt seemed that he truly wanted to avoid becoming an idol[1].â
âNormally, even the statue of Sir Hamel would not be allowed to be placed here. However, strictly speaking, itâs not a decoration arranged by his descendants, nor is it an ornament arranged by the Lionheart clanâŚâ Gilead paused for a moment and looked back at Eugene. â..after all, the fact that Eugene is a disciple of the Wise Sienna takes precedence over his identity as one of Vermouthâs descendants. Also, as the last to pay tribute to Sir Hamelâs 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.â
âWhat a beautiful compromise,â Kristina said with a bright smile.
The atmosphere around the three was still chilly, but she smiled without any sign of restraint.
âTo think that a friendship from three hundred years ago would be resurrected here. To think that Hamelâs grave was lost to the entire worldâŚ. For Sir Eugene to have found his way into the grave, it surely must have been Godâs will,â Kristina confidently stated.
â...Was the fact that Sir Hamelâs grave was damaged and his body desecrated in order to create a Death Knight, also part of Godâs will?â Eugene asked with a bitter expression.
At this snide response, Kristina slowly shook her head and replied, âOf course that was not Godâs will. That was why he used you as a ray of light to illuminate the darkness lurking so deep underground.â
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.
âEven so, I was never once able to win an argument with her,â Eugene complained to himself.
Could shitty logic and stubborn rhetoric be the basic skills taught to all clergy? For now, Eugene couldnât help but assume that this was the case, having seen such examples in both Anise and Kristina.
â...It does look pretty shabby,â 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 werenât 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 Vermouthâs personality than something extravagant. Then, he recalled Hamelâs 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 Aniseâs prayers and Siennaâs magic formations.
However, this shrine had absolutely no decoration. There werenât even any prayers written down, and he couldnât 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 Vermouthâs handwriting from Eugeneâs memories. Recalling what was written on the stone in Hamelâs graveâŚ.
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.
â...Wait here for a few moments,â 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 didnât 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.
â...Come closer,â 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 couldnât believe that he would truly be able to check the contents of Vermouthâs coffin so soon.
â...Please,â Eugene pleaded sincerely. âJust⌠please be lying peacefully inside the coffin. Whether itâs an intact corpse or a mummy, whether itâs 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.â
If Vermouth really was lying in his coffin, then Eugene could finally be relieved of these suspicions that he couldnât bear to believe were true.
Who was the one who had placed the Moonlight Sword in Hamelâs grave?
The one who had clashed with Sienna in the process of doing so?
âŚThe one who had made some stupid fucking promise⌠with the Demon King of Incarceration?
âIâm opening it now,â 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 wasnât 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.
âThen IâllâŚ.â
Then Eugene definitely wouldnât be able to accept it. He wouldnât even try to accept it. He wouldnât want to understand it. And he wouldnât be able to understand even if he wanted to.
Because it was him, then Vermouth couldnât be allowed to do something like that. If it were anyone else, then they shouldnât do that either, but Vermouth, he especially, definitely couldnât be allowed to do something like that.
The Demon King Slayer. The Hero. Godâs Chosen. The God-of-War. The Master-of-All.
The Great Vermouth.
He definitely, definitely couldnât beâŚ.
â...As expected,â 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.
âThereâs nothing inside here,â Kristina voiced the obvious.
Creak.
It sounded like Eugeneâs 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 didnât want to stay here any longer.
â...Since three hundred years have passed⌠itâs possible that not even the body was leftâŚ,â Gilead croaked out in a trembling voice. From his tone, they could feel that even he wasnât confident in what he was saying.
âI have heard stories where the remains of holy figures sublimated and disappeared,â Kristina conceded as she looked down into the empty coffin. â...However⌠if that truly was the case, then the soul of the Great Vermouth should have already entered Heaven.â
â...,â Gilead was silent in the face of this cogent argument..
âAt the very least, what we can be certain about, is that Sir Vermouth was not laid to rest here,â Kristina stated firmly.
Gileadâs eyes wavered. His lips flapped soundlessly, unsure of what to say, and his gaze kept switching between looking at the empty coffin and at Kristinaâs face.
Eventually Gilead managed to squeeze out the words, â...Are you saying⌠that our ancestor didnât die, and instead just disappeared?â
âAlthough I donât know what his reasons were for doing so, at the moment, I have no choice but to assume that,â 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. âEugene Lionheart.â
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 hadnât wanted to believe it was true, but there were too many events involving Eugene that couldnât have been possible without Vermouth having been behind them.
Hamelâs keepsake left in the main familyâs treasure house; Sienna defeated; the Moonlight Sword stored in Hamelâs grave; all of these things couldnât have been done without Vermouthâs involvement.
The problem wasâŚÂ 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 â if Vermouth had just explained the situation to them, even if they didnât understand what he was doing, they would have at least accepted it.
But Vermouth hadnât done that. What was even more damning was the fact that the Demon King of Incarceration knew about Hamelâs 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.
â...Allow me to disclose the rest of the revelation,â Kristina continued speaking. âEugene Lionheart, from this moment on, I declare you to be the successor of the Great Vermouth, and our next Hero.â
What the hellâ
âThis 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,â Katrina proclaimed one-sidedly.
âwas 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.
â...The next Hero? What in the world do youâŚ?â Gilead trailed off in confusion.
âAt a time like this, when the Demon King of Incarceration has issued such a warning, Sir Eugeneâs existence is by no means a coincidence,â Kristina stated confidently.
These words rang a huge alarm bell in Gileadâs 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.
âThis isnât part of Godâs revelation, but⌠I believe that Sir Eugene might even be the reincarnation of Vermouth,â Kristina held her cross-headed wand tightly in front of her chest as she continued speaking. âIf that was the case, it would also explain why the great heroâs soul has not entered heaven. In order to address the imminent crisis that the world is about to face, the heroâs soul has reincarnated itself in the body of his descendant.â
â...HahaâŚ.â Eugene had decided to hear her out, but now he was so perplexed that he couldnât 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 spiderâs 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 bullshitâ
â...then they should at least get my permission first. Fucking what? A hero? What a load of bullshit,â Eugene cursed.
These words didnât just stay in his head, Eugene spat them out for all to hear. And after spilling these words⌠Eugene didnât 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 fatherâs position on the matter.
âThe Great â Ha ha ha! Youâre saying that Iâm the Great Vermouthâs reincarnation? Me?â Eugene asked incredulously. âHey now, Auxiliary Bishop Kristina â no, would that be Saint Kristina?â
â...â Kristina blinked, but said nothing.
âPlease donât spout such bullshit. On what grounds are you claiming that Iâm someoneâs 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?â Eugene demanded angrily.
Kristina waited for him to finish before calmly responding. â...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 Godâs revelation lightly.â
âNo. In any case, Iâm not a believer in the god of light, I have no intention of converting to him, and I donât have any thoughts about going to heaven, so Iâm just going to keep on doing what I already had planned,â Eugene insisted with a derisive snort as he shook the blood off of his hands. âIâm 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.â
âSir Eugene,â Kristina said, protesting his blasphemy.
âI havenât finished speaking yet. No matter what youâve based it on, I have no desire to foolishly claim to be a hero in front of the public. Iâm not honored by the offer, and Iâm not happy with it either. Iâm just me, and this is my life. Iâm going to live my life by doing what I want to do,â spitting out these words, Eugene then turned towards Gilead.
âIâm very sorry for my harsh words, Lord Patriarch. But I believe that Iâve made my position clear, so I hope that you can accept my refusal of her offer. Speaking of which, now that itâs 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 Patriarchâs face, so I hope that you will continue to trust me and support me as you have been doing thus far.â
â...I⌠of course⌠I will always respect your decision,â 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.
âSo anyways, Saint Kristina. Please pass my message on to your almighty God of Light,â Eugene politely requested.
Hesitantly, Kristina inquired, â...What would you like me to say to himâŚ?â
âJust this,â Eugene said as he held up a hand that was still stained with blood and lifted his middle finger. âAlso, please tell him that I said âfuck you.ââ
Having just managed to get over his astonishment, Gileadâs 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. âIâve said all I wanted to say, and itâs late at night, so Iâm going to call it quits here and go get some sleep.â
â...What about the statue?â Gilead asked after collecting himself.
Eugene shrugged and laughed, â...I donât think that Sir Hamel would want to stay at a place where his friend never actually rested.â
Both the statue and the memorial stone, he didnât 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. â