Damn Reincarnation - Chapter 551: The Invitation (2)

“Interfere?”

Anise and Kristina were left speechless. They were unable to utter anything in response. Noir Giabella’s statement was not a jest nor a bluff. She was speaking in earnest.

This nightmare was not a direct creation of Noir Giabella. She had not actually appeared before them. It had been induced merely by exposure to the dark power contained within the letter she sent. She had induced them into a forced sleep, which compelled the victim into slumber with a glance, followed by dream within a dream — drawing the sleeper into a perpetual and recursive world of dreams.

Such powers were naturally within the domain of high-ranking Night Demons. Naturally, as the Queen of the Night Demons, Noir had mastered these abilities to such an extent that she could send hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands into sleep with just a glance.

But now, she had transcended even those capabilities. She no longer needed to catch sight of her victims. Noir Giabella could now delve into an opponent’s consciousness merely with the lingering essence of her dark power, excavating deep-seated traumas and crafting horrific nightmares for the victims.

Anise too, had just experienced a nightmare. Her nightmare was a battlefield from three hundred years ago. The people she could not save had poured their resentments onto her.

She also saw the moment Hamel died before her eyes, the very moment she, as the Saint, could do nothing. She had failed to revive the dying Hamel. All these elements intertwined and amplified into vast despair.

Furthermore, there was the end that Anise had faced. All the Saints of Yuras, one after another, had become relics for the next Saint. Anise was no exception. In fact, being among the most complete of all Saints, she was destined to become a relic.

Tragically, unlike Molon and Sienna, Anise was not granted longevity. Being near complete didn’t mean truly complete. As a “created” human, Anise had bore several unavoidable flaws.

That was why she had tried even harder to escape such a fate. She had lived her life as the Saint. She had lived for the Light. And so, she wanted her last moments to be for herself. She wanted to rebel against the Light she had served all her life.

But, during a last visit to Hamel’s grave in the desert, she came to a realization. Hamel had succumbed to a gruesome and unsightly death, but he had still wished to save the world, even in his last moments. His last words that asked her to kill all the Demon Kings carried his will and determination till the very end.

In the end, Anise changed her mind about retreating to live and die in solitude. She returned to Yuras with the paladins and priests who had sought her out to become a relic for the next Saint.

Her end was tied to the nightmare — the fear she had faced just before becoming a relic.

She had harbored various thoughts and fears in her last moments. Could her action ultimately prove to be meaningless? Would her death be simply in vain? Such fears contradicted the present and Anise’s very existence as a soul dwelling within Kristina, but such contradictions meant nothing in the nightmare of Noir’s creation.

Just a hint of fear was all she needed. Even if this fear was from a past she had already overcome, given the slightest pretext, it could amplify uncontrollably.

Such was the nature of fear. Even if one knew they were alone in a dark room, the moment they started to feel scared, they could not help but imagine things that should not be there. Once awakened from a nightmare, the fear of falling back into another could cause one to lose sleep.

‘It’s fantasy,’ Anise realized finally.

Noir’s current nightmare was amplifying the very fears, the fantasies inherent in one’s existence.

“If I don’t want to die…?” Kristina muttered thoughtfully.

Thus, Noir Giabella’s words were no mere bluster. Kristina knew this well. Though the torment had ended for now, what if Noir were to directly turn reveries into nightmares before their very eyes?

It would not end with them merely clasping their mouths, trembling, and legs giving way until they collapsed. The nightmare would be repeated infinitely, where the mere presence of fear would amplify the terror until it shattered their minds.

“Don’t come?” Anise questioned in a quivering voice. “Don’t interfere with you and Hamel’s final moments?”

Anise’s voice quivered not because she feared Noir, the nightmares, the mental breakdowns, or because of the fear of death.

“How dare you,” Anise hissed.

Kristina felt the same way. She bit her lip hard, glaring at Noir.

The two Saints shared the same fury. This was an insult. How dare she try to suppress the Saints with mere fear? Was this warning meant to coerce the Saints into staying away out of fear?

“Hmm,” Noir hummed as if in thought.

The distorted twilight and the overflowing red had vanished. The Saints’ anger caused Noir’s expression to change again. She tilted her head with the same smile as before.

“This reaction is all too predictable. But definitely more reserved than Sienna Merdein,” Noir commented.

Anise decided not to respond to the obvious taunt.

“Ah, yes. Do you want to know what nightmare Sienna Merdein experienced? It probably isn’t much different from what you would imagine. Hamel’s death. Vermouth’s betrayal. The massacre of the elves…” continued Noir.

She paused, and her lips twitched.

“But her resistance was fierce. Much more than yours. She shattered her nightmare and sought me out to kill me. But what can she do? Here, I am just a phantom in the nightmare. Ahaha, did you know? If anything, Sienna Merdein despaired and felt fear even more because of that.”

Noir giggled while covering her mouth with her hand.

“She was distressed even by a mere phantom of me. Sienna Merdein is such a powerful wizard now. She understands how absurd and horrifying the nightmare I created was,” Noir explained with a smile.

“So,” Anise said, her voice still shaking. “Did Sienna say she was scared? That she wouldn’t come?”

“It would have been nice if she had.” Noir shook her head. “She reacted just like you. Got angry and told me not to insult her. Really, after all the consideration I showed. Could it be jealousy? Are you jealous of the end Hamel and I will have? Is that why you want to interfere?”

“Jealousy? Don’t talk nonsense. We have no reason to be jealous of you,” Kristina said.

“Are you asking that because you truly don’t know, Kristina Rogeris?” Noir asked.

Her eyes and lips curved. Through her thinly veiled gaze, her purple irises emitted a chilling light.

“I can do things you, Anise Slywood, and Sienna Merdein cannot, things you are incapable of. That alone is reason enough for you to be jealous of me,” said Noir.

“Nonsense…!” Kristina shouted.

“Ahaha! Nonsense, you say? I am quite serious. Oh, does the word jealousy hurt your pride? Then let me put it differently,” Noir said.

She paused for a breath. Facing the stern gazes of the Saints, she slowly parted her lips and said, “You see, Hamel and I can kill each other and be each other’s end.”

The statement seemed so matter-of-fact that it was almost absurd.

Capable of killing each other? Kristina, Sienna, and Anise would never engage in such acts with Hamel. Why would they ever need to? Yet, Noir was not speaking these words in jest or as a joke.

“In this world, only I can do this with Hamel. It is a privilege only I possess. I can kill Hamel and be killed by him. We can be each other’s end. We can explore every depth of each other’s emotions,” said Noir.

Her voice trembled slightly. It was a quiver not unlike the thrill of madness.

“Can you do that? No, you cannot. You lack the reasons, the justifications, the emotions. All you can do is stand behind or beside Hamel, just watching. Let me tell you more. All you do is accompany him, live with him.”

Her voice trembled even more as her emotions became heightened.

“But I am different. Whether Hamel or I survive remains unknown, but I am certain. We monopolize the regret, hesitation, and all other emotions of the moments of killing or dying, and these memories will forever remain with each other,” Noir said passionately.

Kristina and Anise found themselves unable to speak. Noir’s impassioned voice was shaking the nightmare, and the sticky, heavy emotions stifled the Saints’ words.

“I am the only one in this world who can do this,” Noir declared.

She took a step forward.

Wooooo…!

The trembling twilight once again consumed the nightmare. Shadows stretched from Noir, who turned her back on the dusk. The shadows rushed towards the Saints.

“In all of Hamel’s repeated lives, only I am unique,” she said.

Noir’s tone shifted again, discarding any pretense of respect for the Saints, leaving only pure, raw emotion.

“Unlike your clumsy attempts at love,” she spat.

The twilight formed a monstrous visage of evil, casting shadows on Noir’s face. Only the curves of her eyes and lips were distinctly visible against her darkened face.

Red lips. Purple irises.

“You.” The emotions Noir now displayed were contempt, disdain, and anger. “You are not worthy,” Noir stated mockingly.

This was not jealousy. It was a right she felt compelled to assert. Noir truly believed it.

“But you will dare to interfere with our end?” Noir questioned angrily.

The shadow undulated and danced. It stopped before the Saints, advancing no further.

“Dare to intrude?” Noir asked once more, her voice harsh.

The Saints knew instinctively.

They knew what it meant to be consumed by this shadow in the nightmare, to be swallowed by this sticky madness and ecstasy — it would not end merely with a corruption of the mind.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Noir said. “You all are not worthy of doing so. That is why I am personally warning you.”

The intense emotion she poured out pressured Kristina and Anise heavily.

“You can only stand behind or beside Hamel. But I can stand before him. If I am killed by Hamel, he will live his life haunted by Noir Giabella, whom he personally killed. The same goes for me. If I kill Hamel, I will live my life reminiscing about him,” claimed Noir.

Her emotions subsided.

“You should be satisfied with that. Even allowing that is my mercy,” she said.

The shadow that had been seething returned to Noir. She steadied her slightly roughened breath and shook her head gently.

“I hope my sincerity has been conveyed.”

Noir’s tone shifted again. The encroaching twilight receded, and the shadows that had veiled her face disappeared. She no longer wore a sinister smile. On Noir’s face now was a smile that the Saints had seen several times before — a smile that fell within the realm of ‘ordinary.’

“I believe you are quite reasonable. That’s why I deliberately warned you harshly just now. You understand why I did it, don’t you?” Noir asked softly.

It was indeed understandable. Noir’s warning had blatantly demonstrated the disparity in their power and status.

“Tell Sienna as well. Oh, but merely telling her might not be enough, right? You’ll probably need to convince her,” Noir murmured and then turned away.

The ground trembled as if an earthquake had struck. Soon, the vibration shook the earth and then the sky, jolting the entire world. A bright red twilight engulfed Noir.

As the twilight disappeared, the world turned to night. The nightmare ended, and the dream collapsed.

“Ah.”

The chair shook. Just as it was about to tip over, Eugene’s hand supported Kristina’s back.

“Ah… Ah.”

Kristina was unsure whether she was in reality or still dreaming. She blinked several times and then pinched her cheek.

There was pain. But could she be certain that this pain was real? A normal dream or nightmare would allow such discernment, but in a dream crafted by Noir Giabella, even pain could seem real.

“Is this… is this reality?” questioned Kristina.

[Yes,] Anise responded in a cold voice. [The emotions we are feeling now are our own. They are neither amplified by the nightmare nor are they under the control of that detestable whore.]

“Ah.…”

Kristina sighed and shook her head. Eugene, who had been supporting her back along with the chair, looked at Kristina’s face and sighed with relief.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“How could I be?”

The moment he asked, he was greeted with a cold response. It was Anise. She furrowed her brows in annoyance, anger, and humiliation as she glared at Eugene.

“I understand why Noir Giabella sent such an invitation,” said Anise.

“Yes.”

“It was… it was horrific. The nightmare Kristina and I saw. If it were a dream we had on our own, we wouldn’t even consider it a nightmare because of its triviality,” said Anise.

“I felt the same,” Sienna muttered, pouting her lips. “Frankly, the nightmare she showed us is one I’ve grown tired of since three hundred years ago. Sure, a few new elements appeared, but really, they don’t seem like nightmares to me at all.”

The nightmare that Noir showed Sienna was filled with Hamel’s death, the extinction of the elves, and Vermouth’s betrayal.

Yet, these things no longer stirred any significant emotional turmoil in Sienna. She knew that Vermouth had not betrayed her, that Hamel had been reincarnated, and that the elves could overcome the plague.

However, within Noir’s nightmare, reality could not be so easily discerned. The nightmare dominated the dreamer’s emotions.

“Even me, the Goddess of Magic herself, was overwhelmed at first. I managed to shake it off eventually… but resistance was impossible,” Sienna admitted.

“I heard it directly from that whore, Sienna. What you felt towards Noir as well,” said Anise.

“What did she say?” Sienna questioned with narrowed eyes.

“She said you felt despair and fear,” Anise replied.

At that answer, Sienna’s face contorted. She opened her lips to retort but only managed to sputter without forming words.

“That’s right.” Sienna exhaled a long sigh, then after a pause, readily admitted, “At that time, I felt despair and fear. I couldn’t think of a way to dismantle the nightmare.”

“How about now, Sienna? The emotions we felt in the nightmare were under that whore’s control. But now that we’ve escaped the nightmare—” said Anise.

“It’s the same,” Sienna spoke with a furrowed brow. “Once you enter the nightmare, fighting her becomes impossible. To kill her — it has to be done in reality, not in a dream.”

“But that’s impossible,” Eugene said, joining the conversation.

He had been supporting the Saints’ tilting chair and carefully righted them.

“The power contained in the letter alone dragged our minds into the nightmare,” Eugene reminded them.

“Hey! Don’t say impossible,” Anise shouted.

“Acknowledge what needs to be acknowledged. In mental attacks, Noir is overwhelming. No matter if you are the Goddess of Magic, and even if Anise and Kristina construct mental barriers, if Noir directly intervenes, she will easily breach them,” Eugene concluded.

Anise didn’t argue back but bit her lip.

It had been the same three hundred years ago. No matter how many barriers Sienna and Anise created, Noir invariably infiltrated their dreams. Those dreams weren’t as lethal as now but still caused them to accumulate fatigue completely different in nature from that derived from battle, eroding their spirits.

“Hamel,” Anise said, exhaling a long sigh, “I didn’t understand at first why you showed us the invitation or why you specifically conveyed that witch’s warning…. But now I do.”

She understood why the atmosphere had been so heavy when she first entered the conference room and why Sienna had been so angry and irritated.

“Hamel,” she called out.

Anise’s melancholic gaze turned towards Eugene.

“You plan to go alone,” she stated.

“That’s right.” Eugene didn’t deny it, simply nodding. “I’ll enter Giabella City by myself.”