Novel

Although Eugene’s desire to not pull it out was real, since Kristina and Gilead were both staring at him with shining eyes, he couldn’t even fake not being able to draw the sword. In the end, while earnestly hoping that his premonition would go awry, Eugene strengthened his grip in the hand that was holding on to the Holy Sword.

Then, his premonition proved to be more than just a feeling. The Holy Sword, which to all appearances was deeply embedded into the floor, easily slid out with just the slightest application of force. While swallowing the curses that threatened to rise from his throat, Eugene stared at the Holy Sword for a few moments.

“Uh… ahhh… ohhhhh…!” Gilead couldn’t hide his excitement.

His body trembled as if he had been electrocuted, and he tightly clenched his fists in triumph.

‘Right now, I’m at the center of unfolding history.’ Gilead rejoiced.

The God of Light and his Saint had recognized Eugene as the Hero. However, since Gilead wasn’t a follower of the God of Light, rather than this proof of their recognition, he was more impressed by the fact that the Holy Sword had been successfully drawn after three hundred years.

“Ahhh…!” Kristina’s agitation was even greater than Gilead’s.

She knelt down on the spot, clapped her hands together, and raised them in prayer.

Standing in the center of all of this, Eugene hid his sour expression. Light was continuously flowing out from the Holy Sword. When Eugene sharply focused his senses, he could sense how the Holy Sword was generating this light.

It was through divine power.

Even though there was no doubt that it existed, it was still somewhat unclear what divine power was. It most commonly came in the form of a light that could only be manifested through the ‘power’ generated by a priest or paladin’s worship of their gods.

‘So that’s how it was. Could the Holy Sword be some kind of focus[1]?’ Eugene speculated.

Eugene didn’t worship any gods. If they did exist, then they existed, and if they didn’t, it didn’t matter to him. Although that was what he had originally thought, what with all this revelation and other shit that he had been forced to listen to recently, Eugene was starting to get annoyed with just hearing all this bullshit.

‘Worship is for suckers. There’s no way I’m letting them take me for a fool,’ Eugene stubbornly insisted.

Nevertheless, Eugene could feel the ‘light’ given off by the Holy Sword. Despite not having the slightest investment in the religion, he could still sense the Holy Sword’s divine power.

Eugene infused his mana into the Holy Sword. As if responding to his mana, the divine power expressed in the form of light wrapped around the blade. By doing this, Eugene had created a blade of sword-force that used divine power instead of mana.

“Aaah!” Katrina, who was still kneeling, exclaimed in admiration. While staring at the light that had engulfed the Holy Sword, she spoke in a trembling voice, “What a dazzling brilliance it has…!”

“Hm….” Eugene hummed thoughtfully, paying no attention to Katrina’s awe.

All of his focus was concentrated on the Holy Sword.

The sword’s brilliant glow wasn’t simply for the sake of providing illumination. Eugene was well aware of what a powerful and oppressive effect that this pointlessly flashy sword had on the demonic races.

‘It’s a power completely different from mana,’ Eugene observed.

He might not have a religious bone in his body, but just by becoming the master of the Holy Sword, Eugene was able to make use of such an intense divine power. He already had more than enough weapons that consumed large amounts of his mana as it was, so it was fortunate that the Holy Sword didn’t consume any mana.

In other words, this meant that the sword was a very fuel-efficient weapon. This fact came as a truly pleasant surprise.

‘Although I don’t think I’ll enjoy swinging it much,’ Eugene noted with disappointment.

Eugene was indeed used to wielding all sorts of weapons from his previous life, but he had never used a sword that went so far beyond the bounds of a good ‘weapon’ like this Holy Sword. Rather than a sword meant to be swung in battle, the Holy Sword looked more like a ceremonial sword meant to be used when knighting someone and other formal ceremonies.

However, at the end of the day, it still had a sharp edge. Eugene probably wouldn’t enjoy using it, but it would still be well worth it to keep it with him as an insurance.

“Sir Eugene, haven’t you heard something like a voice calling to you?” Kristina asked.

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?” Eugene raised an eyebrow as he returned the question.

“The Holy Sword Altair is a sword that the God of Light personally forged and bestowed upon this world long ago,” Kristina recited.

This was part of the founding mythology of the Holy Empire of Yuras.

A long, long time ago, before any civilization was formed on the continent, the world had been engulfed in endless chaos.

At that time, Demon Kings did not exist. It was an era before the boundaries that now separated demonfolk, demonic beasts, and monsters had arisen. Their ancestors were nothing more than inhuman horrors that caught and devoured all humans.

Compared to these horrors, humanity was tremendously weaker. The embers sparked by the humans could only be used to light some fire and grill some meat, but it was impossible for them to light up the darkness that came once the sun had set. During that mythical age, flames could give off heat, but they weren’t able to illuminate.

All horrors were born from the darkness. After the sun had set, the night belonged to these horrors. The weak humans gathered together to resist the horrors, but they weren’t even able to put up a fight. The more humans that were hunted, the longer the night grew, and the more ferocious the monsters became, transforming all of the day’s laughter into tears.

Just when all hope was about to turn into despair, a light fell from the heavens.

God had descended upon the world. God lit up the darkness, and gave the flames that could only emit heat the ability to illuminate.

This myth, the creation myth of the Holy Empire of Yuras, was undoubtedly arrogant.

They truly believed that the current world could only have been reached because the God of Light had descended. They claimed that all other gods were merely the children of the God of Light.

“The God of Light created a sword from his own blood and flesh in order to light up the darkness. Altair was the God of Light’s first child, and the most brilliant beacon that our God has left in order to protect this world,” Kristina religiously intoned.

This was, to a certain extent, a myth solely belonging to Yuras. Every other country had its own separate founding myth. However, Saint Kristina had no intention of recognizing the validity of any other founding myth.

Kristina continued. “In other words, this means that the will of our God still resides in Altair. Three hundred years ago… the Great Vermouth became Altair’s master, thus fulfilling God’s revelation.”

“Huh….” Even though dozens of rebuttals came to mind, Eugene merely let out a grunt and continued to silently listen to Kristina.

“The reason why the Hero was able to overcome all the hardships that he faced while wandering the world, was all because Altair was there to show the Hero the right path. If it hadn’t been for Altair’s revelations… even the Great Vermouth wouldn’t have been able to defeat the three Demon Kings,” Kristina confidently proclaimed.

“Ha… haha,” Eugene had been intending to listen quietly while keeping his opinions to himself, but he couldn’t hold on any longer.

As Eugene laughed in disbelief, Gilead too found himself laughing along with Eugene.

“If what Saint Kristina is saying is the truth, then you’re claiming that our ancestor was just fighting as the Holy Sword instructed him to?” Gilead asked sharply.

“It probably didn’t go so far as instructions on how to fight, but he definitely must have received the Holy Sword’s assistance,” Kristina insisted.

“Saint Kristina, since you weren’t born three hundred years ago, how can you even be sure of this fact?” Eugene challenged.

“Not being born three hundred years ago, doesn’t that apply to you as well, Sir Eugene?” Kristina retorted.

This cheeky brat. Eugene barely managed to swallow the words that he was seconds away from spitting out.

‘It’s quite a creative fabrication. The Holy Sword’s support? It did indeed do an impressive job as a torch,’ Eugene thought to himself sarcastically.

Vermouth had never once spoken of the Holy Sword giving him a revelation. Anise had also never said anything about the Holy Sword having that kind of power.

“Well, since neither of us was born three hundred years ago, there’s no way that we’ll be able to know the truth. However, who in the world told you that, Saint Kristina?” Eugene inquired.

“These facts are passed down to me through the scriptures,” Kristina answered.Nêww 𝒄hapters will be fully updated at (n)ov(𝒆)l/bin(.)com

Eugene frowned, “The scriptures…?”

“Aren’t you already aware of the scriptures, Sir Eugene? The founder of your Lionheart clan, the Great Vermouth, is someone who is revered as a Saint even within the Holy Empire. Could it really be that you have never read about the ‘Book of Vermouth’, even though you’re a member of the Lionheart clan?” Kristina asked in disbelief.

“Ah…. Um….” Unable to reply immediately, Eugene shot a glance at Gilead.

Gilead coughed in a low tone and spoke up. “That’s… regarding the Book of Vermouth, the religious overtones it carries are so strong that it isn’t really authorized by the Lionheart clan.”

Kristina gasped. “But that’s…!”

“Well… I also tried to read it once when I was young, but the contents were so absurd that I….” Eugene trailed off awkwardly as he recalled what he had read.

Leading the refugees to stand in front of the sea, Vermouth lifted the Holy Sword while chanting the holy words and split apart the sea….

The book was packed full of such bullshit. The contents were even more ridiculous than what was recorded in the fairy tale.

‘...Now that I think about it… there was definitely something like that in it,’ Eugene realized.

My apostle Vermouth, my blessing will guide your arm, so illuminate the darkness with the Light of God.

There should still be limits on what kind of bullshit they could claim. It wasn’t just the Lionheart clan who disregarded the Book of Vermouth, the book was also dismissed by historians. This meant that the book was actually treated as being less reliable than a fairy tale book meant for children.

Kristina changed the subject. “...So then… Sir Eugene, you haven’t heard any revelations coming from the Holy Sword?”

“Hm…,” Eugene hummed as he focussed his concentration while staring down at the Holy Sword. “...Ah!”

“Aaaah!” Kristina cried. “Have you received a revelation?”

Eugene reluctantly admitted, “For a moment there, I heard a voice in my head, but I’m not really sure if it was a revelation….”

“What did that voice say to you?” Kristina demanded.

“It said to look at Saint Kristina and tell her to shut up for a bit,” Eugene said with a straight face.

Kristina’s eyes widened at these words. While clenching her skirt tightly in her fists, she rose up from her seat.

“Please do not borrow the name of God in order to insult me,” Kristina huffily demanded.

“Didn’t I already say it in advance? That I wasn’t really sure if it was a revelation,” Eugene defended himself.

“Doesn’t that just mean your head is full of rude thoughts towards me? In my opinion, there must definitely be a demonic influence contaminating poor Sir Eugene’s mind” Kristina accused him.

“A demonic influence you say…. Ever since I was young, my mind has wandered from time to time, and I used to feel strong impulses that made it difficult for me to control myself….” Eugene twitched. “Just like—ugh—just like now. You… motherfucker.”

“Huh?” Kristina gasped.

Eugene continued. “Perhaps there is another me who isn’t me inside of me. A completely different Eugene Lionheart who is borrowing the voice of the Holy Sword in order to say these evil words….”

“Are you mocking me right now?” Kristina asked, the corners of her lips twisting upwards in a dangerous smile.

Eugene knocked on his own head, as if in embarrassment, and placed the Holy Sword inside of his cloak, “Sometimes this trap of mine doesn’t move according to my own will.”

“That is quite a serious illness. If you kindly permit it, I can attempt to treat the illness personally,” Kristina offered.

“This sickness of the heart is something that I need to heal myself. I, Eugene Lionheart, as a descendant of the Great Vermouth, do not want to depend on the Saint to deal with my own weakness,” Eugene declared earnestly.

Ignoring this, Kristina asked, “What are you planning to do now?”

“Let’s just leave on our own time,” Eugene flourished his cloak as he walked past Kristina.

“It bothers me that you're leaving without even saying goodbye to Gerhard,” Gilead confessed as he saw them out to the warp gate.

As he stared at the annex in the distance, Eugene had a wry expression on his face even as he felt grateful for the Patriarch’s consideration, “I’ll be counting on you to take the appropriate measures, Patriarch.”

“It’s not like we know when you’ll be back. Even if it is me, I can’t just keep lying to Gerhard for years,” Gilead pointed out.

“If that ends up being the case, then please give this letter to my father on the last day of the year,” Eugene requested as he handed Gilead the letter that he had written the day before. “Tell him I’ll be just fine. I have the confidence to take care of myself no matter where I go, and I even have a great God protecting me on my journey.”

“Hm…,” Gilead hummed in agreement, though rather than the God of Light’s protection, he placed more trust in Eugene’s own capabilities.

‘...Saint Kristina will be going with him as well…,’ Gilead reminded himself before saying, “...Eugene, I’m trusting you.”

“Thank you so much,” Eugene said with a grin, before extending a hand to Gilead. “...It might be a bit late at this point to ask you something like this, is it okay if I call you uncle[2]?”

“....What…?” Gilead uttered in shock.

Eugene seemed embarrassed, “Well, my father is still alive and in good health… and aren’t you a few years older than my father? So I thought it would be okay to call you uncle—”

Although Eugene had reached out for a handshake, Gilead pulled Eugene into a close embrace and said, “No matter what you call me, I’ve thought of you as my son ever since six years ago.”

“Th… thank you so much,” Eugene repeated.

Eugene had said these words because he was grateful for Gilead’s faith in him, and because he was also feeling a little guilty for borrowing so many weapons from the treasure vault. However Gilead’s reaction was much warmer than he’d been expecting.

“Be careful, and may you achieve the purpose of your journey, my son,” Gilead gave Eugene his blessings.

“Yes… uncle. Please take good care of yourself,” Eugene said in a slightly choked voice.

Their warm embrace came to an end. Even so, Gilead didn’t burst into tears like Gerhard would have done. All Gilead did was keep his back straight and stick out his chest as he saw off Eugene. However, to Eugene, that shining gaze of his felt just as burdensome as Gerhard’s tears.

Still, it didn’t feel so bad being seen off like this as he left on his adventure. In his previous life… there weren’t many times when he had received such a fond farewell.

“There is no warp gate leading to Samar,” Kristina spoke. “After we pass through the southern border of Kiehl, we will have to walk the rest of the way. Were you aware of this?”

“Well, roughly,” Eugene shrugged.

“Does that mean you haven’t made any travel plans?”

“Isn’t that the case for you as well, Saint Katrina?”

“It seems that I’ve prepared more diligently than you, Sir Eugene,” Kristina said as she gave him a faint smile. “First of all, it would be for the better if you don’t use your personal identity card, Sir Eugene.”

“Because I’ll receive a lot of attention?” Eugene confirmed.

“Yes,” Kristina nodded.

“But it will be difficult to forge an identity card, and the checkpoints are pretty strict about identification, especially when we’re crossing the border,” Eugene brought up cautiously.

However, from the moment that they crossed the border, they would no longer be bound by the need for an identity card. The public safety in Samar was so bad, that it couldn’t even be compared to a ghetto, and the identity cards that were so common to the other countries on this continent didn’t see any use there.

“You don’t need to worry about passing through any checkpoints,” Kristina assured him, as she pulled something out from the inside of her robes and handed it over to Eugene. Presenting him with a blank identity card, she continued speaking, “The priests of the Holy Empire travel all over the continent. During their journeys, high-level priests often attract unwanted gazes.”

“So they carry fake identity cards with them as they travel?” Eugene asked curiously.

“You won’t meet any trouble even if you do find yourself needing to use it,” Kristina said confidently.

Eugene grinned and took the identity card. Before passing through the warp gate, Kristina showed Eugene how to register the blank identity card.

The method for doing so wasn’t difficult, nor did it take too long. A new identity could be created immediately by placing a blood-stained thumb on the identity card and memorizing the name that would be used as his alias.

“So now that it’s been created, does that mean that the Holy Empire will eventually register this identity?” Eugene asked.

“And with that, our identities should be safely secured, Sir Eugene,” Kristina confirmed. “We will be posing as missionaries traveling to Samar.”

Eugene raised an eyebrow. “You don’t really intend to proselytize the natives of Samar, do you?”

“If possible, I would like to try and preach to them, but unfortunately the indigenous people of Samar do not respect the God of Light,” Kristina said with a bitter smile.

That was just the reality of the situation. Most of the zealous priests who traveled to Samar in order to proselytize their religion and serve their gods never returned.

“After you declared that you were going to Samar, I did my own independent research on Samar,” Kristina informed him.

“So what did you find out?” Eugene asked.

“Although elves are sometimes seen in Samar… most of those elves are wandering around, unable to find a way to return to their ‘hometown,’” Kristina said as she turned her robes inside out. “A few years ago, the dark elves of Helmuth began trickling into Samar and making contact with these wandering elves. If you want to find the village of the elves, you should try and meet with some of the wandering elves, just like what the dark elves are trying to do.”

It had only been a few days since Eugene had informed her that he intended to go to Samar. In that short amount of time, and without even leaving the Black Lion Castle, she had managed to complete her own investigation…. It seemed that the identity of a ‘Saint’ was quite convenient.

‘...To think there’d be dark elves,’ Eugene’s expression twisted as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Each time his hand shook his strands of hair, the gray color of his hair darkened into black. After even the Lionheart sigil embroidered into his surcoat had been removed, Eugene also altered the appearance of his cloak.

‘I don’t have any good memories of those pests.’

Three hundred years ago, while they were wandering through Helmuth, he had gone through countless near-death crises.

But among those, there was one moment in particular that stood out.

It wasn’t from their battles with the Demon Kings….

Or from when his face was almost cut in two by the Incarceration’s Blade. It was before that….

Back when he had met Iris, the Demon King of Fury’s adopted daughter, a dark elf called the ‘Rakshasa’.