Damn Reincarnation - Chapter 566: Night (6) [Bonus Image]

“You… just stay still,” Sienna found herself saying.

It was the first time since the fight with Raizakia that Eugene appeared so severely injured. There had been worse fights some three hundred years ago, but back then, they were all weaker and less adept.

Sienna approached Eugene with a pale, stricken face.

“I’m alive,” Eugene muttered while glaring at the sky.

Eugene wasn’t dead, and neither was Noir Giabella. She was out there somewhere in the night sky, waiting for him.

“Isn’t that obvious? I know too. That… that whore is still alive. But you don’t need to fight anymore…!” Sienna clenched her robe as she spoke.

It was truly a grim sight, not just his severed arm either. His internal injuries looked severe, too. Though acquiring divinity had enabled him to regenerate most wounds, at this moment, that was impossible for Eugene. This was the price of overdriving his divinity. The backlash from Ignition had just hit him.

“You… just sit here quietly, with your severed arm. Soon, either Kristina or Anise will come to their senses. Yes, get the elixir…” Sienna muttered.

“Sienna,” Eugene called out.

“You’re not worried about me, are you? I might be injured, but it’s not even a scratch compared to yours. And that whore is just as badly hurt! So…” continued Sienna.

“Sienna,” Eugene called out once more.

“Don’t call my name! Just, just shut up and rest. I could kill Noir Giabella in her current state—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Sienna’s lips were pursed as she glared at Eugene.

Had he really heeded her demand not to call her name? Eugene didn’t call out to Sienna anymore. But his gaze was far heavier than any words he could have spoken.

“The fight is practically over anyway. Both of you are alive, but you have… I’m here. I can finish this,” said Sienna.

“No,” retorted Eugene.

Sienna glared at him silently.

“This is between me and Noir Giabella. Only one of us can end it. Not you,” said Eugene.

“Ha! Why should I indulge in your sentimentality? You can hardly stand, yet you insist on fighting,” spat Sienna.

“If you act on your own and ignore my wishes, I will hate you for the rest of my life,” Eugene said, flashing a faint smile. “Really. Even if you cry and beg, I won’t forgive you.”

“If you die, there will be nothing for you to hate,” Sienna retorted.

“I won’t die,” Eugene assured.

There was no use talking to Eugene at times like this. Sienna wanted desperately to convince him, but she knew it was futile and sighed deeply.

“Alright, I understand. Killing that whore personally is that important to you. But how do you intend to do it? You can barely move, let alone fight,” Sienna inquired.

“I’ll make it possible.” With those words, Eugene placed his hand on his chest.

Not understanding his gesture at first, Sienna blinked in surprise. Eventually, as she grasped what Eugene intended to do, she gasped and reached out her hand.

“You crazy fool!” she shouted.

Eugene’s fingers brushed his heart just before the magic seized him.

Thump!

A faint heartbeat surged with heavy force, reviving the dying embers.

“Hey!” Sienna shouted.

Until now, Eugene had only used Ignition consecutively during the Raizakia incident. Back then, he had pushed Raizakia to the brink of death alone but had collapsed from exhaustion just moments before finishing the task.

A second consecutive rampage had completely damaged his heart and Core, almost killing him then. If not for the miracle of the World Tree, he would have indeed died.

“It’s different this time,” Eugene said in a calm voice.

The previous Ignition had caused a surge of divine power, but this time, it was purely a mana surge. Therefore, it wouldn’t kill him from the recoil like during the Raizakia incident.

Of course, that was just the theory. The backlash from surging divine power was merely a sealing of divine energy, which hardly burdened his body. But now, could his battered body withstand the recoil of this Ignition?

He hadn’t thought about it. Noir, too, wouldn’t be in great shape, but there was no chance of his victory unless he caused his mana to rampage. Eugene quickly drew an elixir from his cloak and downed it as first aid.

“You… you….” Sienna was at a loss for words. Her lips were quivering.

Eugene flashed her a grin and then kicked off the ground, soaring into the sky.

“If you die, I’ll die too!” Sienna screamed after him into the night sky.

“Ah.” Noir let out a short sigh while fluttering through the undulating night. “I thought dying together in each other’s arms would be… a beautiful end,” she said.

It could have been. They were so close. But it hadn’t happened. Noir chuckled while massaging her chest.

In truth, Hamel’s response had been excellent. Just as her bomb of dark power was about to explode, Hamel had reacted in the best way possible.

“The beautiful ending I envisioned wasn’t beautiful for you, I guess,” she muttered.

Was the grip too weak? Or… had she hesitated at the last moment? Perhaps it was a bit of both. The explosion had been impulsive. She had acted out of a moment’s impulse. Perhaps it had not been passionate enough? Or perhaps she had hesitated at the end.

Either way, it was fine, whether her grip was too weak or she had hesitated. All of it made this moment sweeter.

Noir removed her hand from her chest and placed it above her lips.

Cough.

Blood trickled from her slightly parted lips.

The failed explosion had severely injured Noir as well. She had lost the Demoneye of Divine Glory. A significant amount of her dark power had evaporated in the explosion as well. Her injuries were severe; her chest was slashed and pierced. Pain radiated near her heart, and her tattered wings trembled as if they might crumble any moment.

Yet Noir was still alive. She was alive and flying in the sky.

“We could have dreamed the same dream,” she lamented.

Noir’s smile was visible through her blood-stained face. Below, she could see Hamel staggering.

His condition was just as dire. He had lost his left arm. His Ignition had ended. His Prominence was depleted of energy. He was no longer resonating with the Saints. Even that seemingly endless pool of divine power was now unperceivable.

Yet neither of them had died. They were still alive.

However, they both sensed that the end was near. The dream, the night, was coming to a close. Noir chuckled softly as she looked down below.

Flames were visible. Hamel was coming. However, these flames were different from before. There was no trace of divine power or divinity, yet they burned fiercely. Noir realized what Eugene had done. Without any divine power left, he had ignited his mana once more.

“You went to such lengths just for me?!” Noir said lovingly.

She found the flames, devoid of any divine sensation, endlessly endearing. How could she not love this sight of him, racing towards death, destroying his own body? Noir smiled brightly as she caressed her throat.

“Hamel,” She called his name tenderly with blood-stained red lips. “My Hamel.”

She could feel his presence even more intensely in his current state, without any divine power. His was a presence unmarred by past lives — yes, Noir nodded with a smile. He was the first man Noir Giabella had ever loved. He was the man she could not help but love.

“Ah….” Noir sighed sweetly as she surveyed her own body. Everything was a mess. Her chest was slashed and punctured, and her body was covered in wounds. The clothes she had dressed up in now looked no better than rags. Noir conjured a small hand mirror to inspect her face.

“Ugly,” she commented.

Though her face was still beautiful, Noir was not pleased with it, not with the burst and hollow socket in her left eye, not with the blood-covered face, not with the burst lips. She disliked everything about it. This face, this condition, it was not acceptable.

Hamel — there was no need for him to intervene. As Sienna Merdein had shouted, he could have allowed her to finish the battle. That was the logical choice. That was the sensible choice. Sienna was more than capable of finishing off Noir in her current state.

Yet, Hamel had come himself. Despite being unable to fight, he had used Ignition one more time. He had come to finish everything with his own hands. Therefore, Noir had to meet Hamel with her best effort. She giggled and stirred up her dark power.

Her left eye regenerated and filled the socket. The scars on her face disappeared, and a layer of light makeup was applied. Although the wound on her chest remained beyond repair, the other injuries healed. The tattered clothes transformed into something new. Thus, Noir achieved a beautiful appearance, befitting their final encounter. She rotated the mirror to examine her reflection and, satisfied, set it down with a smile.

“Hamel,” she called out.

The theme park was the greatest in Helmuth, no, the greatest in the continent. It opened just a few years ago. Giabella City was a place of pleasure where one could indulge in every conceivable entertainment. It was a city that embodied all of Noir Giabella’s dreams and ideals.

The mirror fell to the ruins.

Fwoosh…

Down below, the still-intact amusement park lit up. The carousel creaked into motion, and the Ferris Wheel started to turn, its lights blinking weakly.

Noir murmured softly as she watched, “There are so many things I want to do with you in this city.”

Still with his hand on his chest, Eugene drew forth Levantein. It was no longer a divine blade now that its divine power was sealed.

However, he could still use it as a sword. But Eugene slipped Levantein back into his cloak and drew another sword instead.

It was a plain, rugged sword. It was a sword with no legends or mysteries.

Whoosh.

The flames of the White Flame Formula enveloped the blade.

“To gamble in the casino, to drink in the bars, to shop in the department stores, at the swimming pool, the zoo, the amusement park,” continued Noir.

The blade, wrapped in flames, was directed at Noir.

Whoosh.

The flickering flames settled down calmly. He was not in a hurry.

He slowly manifested sword-force and enveloped the blade.

“There were so many things I wanted to do. I could talk forever, and it wouldn’t suffice. Yes, but it’s okay. The thing I wanted to do the most — I’m doing it now,” said Noir.

Eugene could not manifest divine power. But he didn’t need it. He knew it instinctively. He wouldn’t need divine might, Agaroth’s power, or the divine power against the current Noir. He could reach her regardless of what he held in his hand.

What mattered was his will to reach.

“Ahaha.”

Noir laughed as she observed the sword aimed at her, the flames that had settled down despite numerous overlaps, and beyond them, the golden eyes emitting a fierce glow. She saw Hamel. He was the sword forged from his murderous intent.

“You really are sentimental,” she commented.

There was no need to ask why Hamel had chosen a rugged and ordinary sword instead of Levantein. She didn’t intend to ask, and she didn’t need to know. The clear and beautiful murderous intent was Hamel’s answer, the words Noir desperately wanted to hear.

“And so romantic.”

At the end of her whisper, Noir moved forward. Instead of her left hand, which wore the ring, she extended her right hand. She drew a murderous intent as heavy as the overwhelming love she felt. All the dark power Noir could muster moved with that intent.

Hamel.

Noir whispered his name, as sweetly as one might to a lover lying beside her in bed, yet with the same intent as one faced their nemesis.

Eugene slashed.

He swung his sword wildly. Though the flames enveloping the ordinary iron sword had calmed, the swordplay met with fierce murderous intent. The creaking of his body, the strain on his heart — none of these made him hesitate with the sword.

Noir laughed. The clear, ringing laughter mingled with the sounds of clashing swords throughout the night.

That, too, was slashed. Eugene slashed again and again. He cut through the night that seemed like it would never end, through the sweet, poignant nightmare.

Noir swung her hand. The shredded night became her claws. She parried an incoming attack. She moved forward into the very heart of the unyielding murderous intent. Remorse, regret, despair — none of these weighed down her sword.

Eugene Lionheart.

Hamel Dynas.

He did not stop his sword. Dark power and flames intertwined, burst, and scattered. They were raised again. No matter how many times their attacks were blocked, their intent to kill did not dull.

‘We were—’ Eugene thought.

The scattered dark power once again became a blade that brushed past. Eugene ignored it. He couldn’t afford to block each one, and he did not have the leisure to do so. He had activated Ignition forcibly. All the mana available to him was transformed into flames, all poured into the sword. He only looked forward. He only saw Noir Giabella. Every nerve was focused solely on reaching her.

‘—Destined to end this way.’

Their past lives, the connections they shared from before, Agaroth and Aria — none of that mattered. As long as he was Hamel and she was Noir, this was their inevitable conclusion.

Do not dull.

Do not become weighed down.

Do not hold regrets.

Do not hesitate.

All the emotions that he would inevitably confront were irrelevant at this moment. Thus, Eugene’s murderous intent was pure. He approached Noir purely.

She knew.

She could feel it.

She could feel how much Hamel wanted to kill her right now. She could feel how pure and upright his murderous intent was. That was why she laughed. She couldn’t bear it without laughing.

‘I feel the same,’ Noir thought.

Because she loved Hamel, she wanted to dream an eternal dream with him. Because she loved Hamel, she wanted to kill him with her own hands. Because she loved Hamel, she wanted to die at his hands. She felt death. She felt Hamel. This moment was the sweetest dream of Noir’s life.

They were close now, too close to retreat, not that either of them wished to. A reach away, and they could touch.

Their gazes met, each contemplating the deadly completion of the other. Noir stretched out her hand, and Eugene thrust his sword.

‘It’s me.’

Crack!

Noir’s hand scattered the flames and shattered Eugene’s sword. The fragments scattered across the night sky. Seeing this, Noir smiled brightly. In the end, Eugene’s sword had not penetrated her; it had reached her but failed to deliver death.

‘I am the one who will kill you.’

She had reached the conclusion she had so desperately desired. Throughout her journey to this day, Noir had experienced a tumult of emotions. Noir Giabella, once known in ages past as Aria, had been called the Twilight Witch, the War God’s Saint.

She had suffered after coming to realize this fact. She suffered after having to acknowledge things she did not want to know. She grappled with an identity that was not entirely her own, shaken by memories and emotions that did not belong to her. It only deepened love and hate. The realization that her love for Hamel and her feelings towards him were not entirely her own tormented her. She despised their past lives.

Yet, she could never let go of her love for Hamel. He was a man she could not help but love. Thus, today, she had destroyed Hamel with all her might, hoping to dream an eternal dream, wishing they could die together.

The end they reached after surpassing everything was as fatally sweet and venomous as any. The emotions that would follow this conclusion — regret, loss, and grief — would be incomparably greater than any she had previously imagined. Perhaps she would be broken beyond recovery.

No, she was certain of it. Noir would be shattered. She might never smile again, might never dream again.

But it did not matter.

A world without Hamel was not worth living in. That was enough. She did not like the twilight. She did not like the dawn. Thus, this sweet night would draw to a close as an eternal nightmare.

“Ahah.”

Was it the end?

No, it was not over. Noir laughed unwittingly. As the fragments of the sword scattered, Eugene twisted his body. From his wide-open cloak, a sword hilt protruded. It was the same as before: an unremarkable, plain, ordinary sword.

It had always been this way.

He treated weapons too harshly. Breaking a weapon during battle was not uncommon for you. If one sword broke, you would simply draw another and continue fighting.

Hamel was such a man.

‘I am satisfied.’

She was satisfied that she could kill Hamel.

Satisfied that she could kill him like this.

‘But you weren’t.’

Even now, Hamel did not give up. He did not hesitate.

‘I was lacking.’

Hamel did not wish to die together with her. He did not wish to lose. In this moment, after killing Hamel, Noir envisioned what would come next — the despair of being left alone, destroyed.

But not Hamel.

He was still looking at Noir even now. His pure, murderous intent did not hesitate with regret or reluctance. His sword approached her. His desire rekindled the flames.

Noir, smiling brightly, spread her arms wide.

“So you really want to kill me that badly.”

Their bodies overlapped.

The sword pierced her heart.

Openbookworm & DantheMan’s Thoughts