Damn Reincarnation

it saying such things?

Eugene didn’t bother to ask any questions.
His own rage and killing intent were stronger than any desire to look into these questions.
Eugene was no longer expressionless or emotionless.
His eyes had lit up like those of a mad beast, and indiscriminate killing intent was surging forth from his body.

“Hoh,” the Death Knight, who had been pushed back quite a distance, muttered in surprise as he shook his hand.

Even though he hadn’t had much room for acceleration, Eugene’s fist had been quite heavy.
And now look at what Eugene was doing.
Could a child born in a peaceful era like this truly be as vicious as Eugene currently seemed?

“You’re nothing like the rest of the brats born these days,” the Death Knight said with a chuckle as he clenched and unclenched his fist.

‘Since the Lionhearts and the Tower Masters from Aroth have interfered, please intercept them.’

That had been the request the Death Knight received from Edmond.
The capital of the Kohcilla Tribe, which was where the Death Knight and Edmond had been located at that time, was far from here, but as this was a site where the Earth Veins had been twisted, the Kochillas had kept a record of these coordinates.
As long as he had the coordinates, Edmond was able to send the Death Knight here, as it could be considered a type of undead summons.

The Death Knight, who was burning with an artificially induced hatred and desire for vengeance, hadn’t refused Edmond’s request.
As he believed that he himself was Hamel, the Death Knight held a desire to get his revenge on all those who had betrayed him.

And that included Vermouth’s descendants, the Lionheart clan.
Their presence here alone would have been enough to arouse the Death Knight’s thirst for blood, but then he had seen the Saint of this era, who closely resembled that disgusting serpent Anise.

The Death Knight licked his lower lip as he grabbed the hilt of the sword at his waist.

This brat from the Lionheart clan… might have only recently become an adult, but he was already being called the Second Coming of Vermouth.

The Death Knight could still clearly recall the memories from when he was alive.
Although Vermouth had also just come of age when the two of them had first met, the hero had already possessed such strength that it was hard to believe his apparent age.

The Death Knight hated Vermouth for having betrayed him and stabbed him through the back with his sword.
However, that aside, he still couldn’t help but recognize Vermouth’s strength.

So, for this Eugene Lionheart, the Death Knight wanted to check for himself whether this guy deserved to be called the Second Coming of Vermouth.
And he also desired to take the life of the person who was being showered with such praise with his own hands.

The Death Knight drew his sword.

When Eugene had told the others not to interfere, the emotions that were contained in those words were so bloodthirsty and dire that everyone remained standing where they were, staring at Eugene’s back.
Of course, none of them allowed themselves to relax completely.
Everyone was ready to provide Eugene with support in case of an emergency.

Eugene didn’t look back.
He kept to a walk rather than a run.
As he slowly approached the Death Knight, Eugene also slipped a hand into his cloak.
Eugene’s fingertips brushed over the handles of the countless weapons within.

They skimmed over the Demon Spear Luentos.
They slid over the Annihilation Hammer Jigollath.
They brushed over the Devouring Sword Azphel, the Thunderbolt Pernoa, and the Dragon Spear Kharbos.

Eugene’s hand hovered over the Holy Sword Altair for a few moments, but eventually, it was drawn to another weapon.
As Eugene’s fingertips were about to wrap around the hilt of the Moonlight Sword, right at that moment, Wynnyd moved of its own volition and shoved itself into Eugene’s hand.

[Hamel…!] A cry rang out inside Eugene’s head.

In the face of Tempest’s expression of his pure and heartfelt rage, Eugene’s lips arced into a smile.

“Fine then,” Eugene agreed.

His fingers wrapped around Wynnyd’s hilt.
The moment its silverish blue blade was drawn from his cloak, the gust of wind summoned by the sword of its own volition sent Eugene’s hair and the hem of his cloak fluttering.

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Eugene quietly muttered, “If it’s you, then you should have a pretty good idea of what I’m feeling right now.”

A huge gust of wind proceeded to wash over Eugene’s back.
Through this violent storm, Tempest was letting out his own roar of rage.
Eugene lifted Wynnyd high and glared at the Death Knight.

“Wynnyd…! Tempest, you’re also on the list of people I want to kill!” the Death Knight let out his own roar as he returned Eugene’s grin.

Screeeech!

As the Death Knight’s sword was drawn from its scabbard, black flames wrapped around the blade.
As this flame-like aura around the sword proceeded to swell up to a huge size, it was dark power, not mana, that fueled this growth.
While continuing to expand his ominous and dark-colored sword-force, the Death Knight charged at Eugene.

Purple flames engulfed Eugene’s body.
The sparks that flew out from him looked like a lion’s mane.

Claaang!

Dark power collided against these flames.
A storm of wind swept forward over Eugene’s back.
The Death Knight swung his sword at this storm that he shouldn’t even be able to cut, and the chopping slash tore straight through the storm of wind.

[Hamel!] Tempest shouted.
[This thing doesn’t have the soul of a human! It’s just a monster made by mixing together the souls of demonic beasts!]

“That sounds about right,” Eugene muttered to himself from within the torn-apart storm.

Eugene was convinced of Tempest’s words by the swordplay that the Death Knight had displayed just now.
The Death Knight that had been created using a lycanthrope’s soul hadn’t been able to reproduce Hamel’s swordsmanship.
However, the current Death Knight was able to perfectly reproduce his swordsmanship.

Among the countless varieties of demonic beasts, the Doppelgangers were the only ones that could perfectly reproduce their opponent’s movements.
However, in the end, their copying skills were just at the level of imitating what could be seen.
They weren’t able to copy what lay below the surface.
Yet this Death Knight was even able to perfectly recreate his Asura Rampage.

‘It seems they managed to perfectly reproduce the memories left within my corpse by amplifying a doppelganger’s mimicry.’

But who was the one who had made this version of Death Knight? Was it Amelia Merwin? Had that fucking bitch left her desert and come to this Rainforest?

The Death Knight had said something about his Master.
So he was probably talking about Amelia.
…But after having completely reproduced his memories, had this Death Knight really decided to take a black wizard as their master?

“This son of a bitch dares,” Eugen growled as he spun Wynnyd in his hand.

Bammmm!

Eugene blocked the sword-force that had slashed at his body.
Then, without being pushed back, Eugene drove his sword forward instead.

The instant their two slashes collided, Eugene’s sword wove around the Death Knight’s blade and slipped past.
While appearing to follow the flow of force, Wynnyd was thrust into an opening.

Yet the Death Knight also refused to be pushed back.
While parrying each probing slash that came at him, he carefully watched Eugene’s movements.

He noticed that the position of Eugene’s feet was constantly changing.
It seemed that his opponent was also good at shifting his weight.
Being able to fire off a slash from a posture where you usually wouldn’t be able to swing a sword allowed Eugene to create numerous opportunities to attack.

‘What’s with this bastard?’ the Death Knight thought with a twitch of his brow.

He admitted that Eugene deserved to be called the Second Coming of Vermouth.
However… he could feel a strong sense of incongruity coming from Eugene’s sword techniques.
They weren’t just at the level of being excellent.
They seemed to have already reached perfection.
A perfection that was even comparable to the Death Knight’s own skills, which he had inherited from Hamel.

‘But how?’

He had heard all about the Lionheart clan from the traitor of their family, Hector Lionheart.
He had been told that among the Knights of the Black Lion, the knightly order that Vermouth had created, there was someone who had inherited Hamel’s secret techniques.

Eugene Lionheart had also managed to discover Hamel’s grave and claimed to have inherited Hamel’s secret techniques from there.

But that only made the Death Knight want to kill Eugene even more.
How dare the detestable Vermouth steal what he himself had failed to leave behind and even dare to teach it to his descendants.

‘No matter what the case may be… to think that he can actually use my skills at this level? Without even having learned from me personally….
No, could it just be because Vermouth managed to pass them down well?’

Even though the Death Knight had already guessed the plausible reason for Eugene’s swordsmanship, the sense of incongruity refused to disappear.
Eugene’s swordsmanship wasn’t just at the level of having accepted his inheritance.
It was like looking into a mirror.

‘A mirror?’

Such a thought only made the Death Knight’s hatred grow even stronger.

To think that Eugene would still dare to imitate someone when standing right in front of them.
Even though the Death Knight had already gone so far as to admit that he was Hamel.
For Eugene to still insist on using Hamel’s swordsmanship even with that—

Grrrrk.

“There should be a limit as to how much you can insult someone,” the Death Knight spat out through gritted teeth, a twisted scowl on his face.

‘Let’s just see if he can continue copying me,’ the Death Knight thought.

The Death Knight’s sword shook.
His overflowing dark power began to condense and cling to his sword.

Hamel’s swordsmanship didn’t possess a clear form.
While there was a guiding flow to it, in order to use his sword style, you needed to know how to make alterations when needed.

The Death Knight was currently making just such a change to his swordplay.
The sword in his hand had become a killing sword designed solely for the sake of executing Eugene.

All of his power was being condensed into a single slash.
Just as Eugene had borrowed the strength of the storm, the Death Knight was amplifying the strength of his slash with his own dark power.
Yet if it was simply dark power alone, his efforts might just add up to a forceful push, but the Death Knight wasn’t using just any ordinary dark power.

The Death Knight was making use of the dark power that reinforced his own dead body.
By concentrating that dark power into one place, the Death Knight could generate an explosive force.

Crackle.

Lightning began to mix in with the flames surrounding Eugene.
The moment the Death Knight’s concentrated slash was about to be released at Eugene, Eugene’s sword, which was accelerated by the lightning, pierced through the center of the Dark Knight’s slash.

“…What on earth?” the Death Knight gasped.

He had had no choice but to retreat.
If the Death Knight had insisted on taking the blow, one side of his chest would have been pierced through.

As a raised corpse, his body wouldn’t die even if his chest was pierced, but the Death Knight, having retained all the memories from his previous life, couldn’t allow himself to be pierced by that sword.
He had no intention of allowing himself to be injured by Vermouth’s descendants.

The Death Knight felt forced to ask, “Are you truly a descendant of Vermouth?”

Eugene’s sword and how he had perfectly grasped where the Death Knight was swinging his sword, what he was aiming at, and how he intended to attack — the Death Knight couldn’t understand how Eugene could know all these, so he couldn’t help but ask.

Eugene didn’t respond to the question.

Instead, his sword and the storm danced together once more.

1.
Just in case this doesn’t seem clear, the fake Hamel is referring to the false confession in the fairy tale.
☜