Damn Reincarnation

“It’s strange,” Carmen mumbled as she took out a new cigar. “How could a low-level black wizard like that come into contact with the eldest son of the Lionheart’s main family and arrange a contract for him? He must have had his sense of fear surgically removed, or he could just be crazy.”[1]

“He was probably just desperate,” the reply came from outside the prison cell. “He first started practicing black magic dozens of years ago, but had found little success. If he grew old and died just like that, his soul would become the property of the demonfolk he was contracted to, and he wouldn’t even be allowed to reincarnate.”

“...,” Carmen stayed silent.

The speaker continued, “As such, he felt like he had to try something. Even if he ran into a problem and it ended up getting him into trouble, he probably believed that he could get out of trouble with the ‘strength’ that he would have gained for selling the Lionheart clan’s eldest heir.”

Gavid had admitted as much. Throughout his torture, he had screamed that he had done this solely for his own greed.

Carmen finally responded, “I’ve heard that Noir Giabella claims she wasn't involved in this.”

“Although that might be the case, Duchess Giabella would surely have bestowed a reward had the incubus managed to successfully catch the Lionheart’s eldest heir, and she certainly wouldn’t have punished him,” the voice opined.

“And you?” Carmen demanded.

“I’m not sure why the target of your questions always comes back to me,” Balzac, the one standing outside the cell, shrugged. “Especially since I believe I have cooperated with you at every step in this affair, and I’ve shown you more than enough apologies and respect.”

“Rather than believe that such an insignificant black wizard could be behind this plot, it would make more sense to suspect that you’re the one who masterminded it,” Carmen gave her reasoning.

“Ah. Although I understand why you would think that if that were the case, what would I gain from allowing this?” Balzac asked, pointing to Gavid’s dismembered corpse. “If I was the one to have planned this… I wouldn’t have allowed the risk of someone picking up my trail. I would have arranged things so thoroughly that no one would be able to make a connection back to me. Don’t you think so?

“This incident was extremely clumsy. To think that they chose a drug den in the middle of Bolero street as the site of their ritual. Plus, their guards were so weak that they didn’t even notice a seventeen-year-old was following them, nor were they able to prevent his interference. Haha… even if I tried my best, I couldn’t pretend such ineptitude.”

“What if they were meant to be caught, to throw off the trail?” Carmen supposed.

“Are you saying they’re my subordinates? What reason would I have to cut off my own flesh like that?” Balaz chuckled, and with a snap of his fingers, a flame was lit on the end of the cigar that Carmen was currently biting. “Sir Carmen,[2] I happen to have a lot of enemies.”

Carmen waited for him to get to his point, “....”

“I serve the Demon King of Incarceration, and I am grateful to him for placing a lot of trust and love on me. But thanks to that, many people in Helmuth don’t like how much of his favor I receive.”

“Like Edmond Codreth?”

“Of course, he must also think of me as a hindrance. Amelia Merwin shouldn’t like me very much either.”

In this era, there were only three black wizards who had personally made contracts with the Demon King of Incarceration:

An Earl of Helmuth and current owner of Vladmir, Edmund Codreth.

Aroth’s Black Tower Master, Balzac Ludbeth.

The Dungeon Master of Nahama Desert, Amelia Merwin.

“Of course, apart from those two, there are a lot of ‘demonfolk’ who dislike me. In my opinion, one of them may have… sought to disgrace me by using this as a pretense,” Balzac conveyed his suspicions.

“But you don’t have any evidence,” Carmen pointed out.

“There’s also no evidence for me being responsible for this incident. Really now, how many times over the past few days have I said that I had nothing to do with it….” Balzac trailed off with a chuckle as he shook his head. “By the way, Sir Carmen, surely I’m not the only suspect that you have?”

“You’re free to spit out whatever you’ve got brewing in that head of yours,” Carmen straightened up, no longer leaning back against the wall, and glared at Balzac. “However, with that freedom comes responsibility. Are you willing to take responsibility for your words?”

“You really don’t have any other suspects?” Balzac pushed his glasses up with a sly smile. “As a faithful servant of the Demon Lord of Incarceration, just as he wishes to get along with the Lionheart clan, so do I. That is why I bowed my head in apology, cooperated with your investigation, and showed you my respect. However, I am only human, so… I can’t fully suppress this feeling of injustice piercing deep into my chest like an awl.”

“...,” Carmen stayed stonily silent.

“I am Balzac Ludbeth. Aroth’s Black Tower Master. Servant of the Demon Lord of Incarceration. Although I understand why you would refuse to show me any respect… in the face of such excessive insults… even if it’s for the sake of the Demon Lord of Incarceration and myself, I won’t be able to show such inexhaustible consideration,” Balzac stated as his pupils grew darker.

Naishon and Fargo, who were both inside the cell with Carmen, stepped forward to block the front of the cell with hardened faces. Gion also placed his hand on the sword at his waist as he watched the situation from further inside the cell with narrowed eyes.

“...I really have no desire to cause even more discourtesy as a visitor to this foreign kingdom,” Carmen sighed eventually.

“If that is what you desire, I’ll do my best so that no one feels that your actions are disrespectful,” Balzac offered.

“But to do that, your neck must first remain attached to the rest of your body.”

Balzac didn’t respond to this blatant threat and just smiled. But Balzac’s shadow, which was cast on the cell wall, began to waver. Carmen had been staring at him coldly, but she eventually shrugged and shook her head.

Carmen changed the subject, “Then it looks like I’ll just have to keep thinking about it.”

“About what?” Balzac asked.

“About who in the Lionheart clan wishes to harm the prestige of the main family,” Carmen said, appearing to have ruled out Balzac as a suspect.

The Lionheart clan was far too large. For the past three hundred years, except for the direct line of succession from Patriarch to Patriarch, all other members of the main family were forced to become independent and found their own collateral branches. And no limit was imposed on the number of collateral lines that could exist.

Among these countless collateral descendants, there were definitely a few who harbored enmity towards the main family.

“It was just a hunch,” Carmen admitted without apology. “We couldn’t find out anything with torture or with mind magic. It was all too clean. That's why I suspected you.”

“Oh my, then it looks like I went too far with my words,” Balzac stated embarrassedly.

They’d been left thoroughly in the dark, without any clues on where to pick up the trail.

Hesitantly Balzac said, “I must add that what I’m about to talk next isn’t all that ‘clean.’ And there’s no reason you would trust me with this.”

“Go ahead,” Carmen conceded.

“If you need help, then I can offer you my power. Should you wish for it, that is…. Oh, that’s right. Gavid’s soul hasn’t left this place yet… shall I summon it for you?”

“I don’t want to see any of your foul magic, and I really don’t want your help with the investigation since you might be able to pull something off on us in the process.”

“Haha….”

“What about Olpher’s head?”

“I can show it to you, but it isn’t an enjoyable sight.”

“I’ve already seen a lot of cruel and terrible things. Like this sight right in front of me.”

Despite saying this, Carmen’s eyes didn’t stray to Gavid’s corpse. Instead, her narrowed eyes were fixed on Balzac. In her opinion, the cruelest and terrible thing here wasn’t the corpse that had died from torture but the living black wizard.

“If that’s how you feel,” Balzac shrugged.

Balzac snapped his fingers, and the shadow attached to him slowly rose off the floor. The shadow was holding out the decapitated head of a handsome incubus in its black hand.

“His soul was harvested by the Demon King of Incarceration. If you like, I can also request that it be offered to you,” Balzac said.

Carmen rejected the offer, “There’s no need for that.”

With a smirk, Balzac laid the head of Eoin Olpher down on the cell's floor. Carmen immediately kicked the offered head.

Crack!

Eoin Olpher’s head hit the bars of the cell and shattered into pieces. Standing behind those bars, Balzac had his face and clothes splattered with blood, bones, and bits of brains, but his smile didn’t even shake.

“Let’s head back,” Carmen ordered, wiping down the jacket slung over her shoulders as she emerged from the cell. Standing in front of Balzac, she warned him, “...I’m telling you this just in case. Eugene Lionheart. We are leaving him in the care of the Red Tower of Magic. If you even come into contact with him—”

“The only one who can command my actions and desires is the Demon King of Incarceration,” Balzac interjected before Carmen could finish speaking. As his fingertips gently pulled off his glasses which had been spattered with blood, he turned away and said, “Sir Carmen, you have no power over me.”

1. Originally, Carmen says that he must have had his liver extracted from his stomach. In Korean, the liver is the organ that governs fear instead of, say, the heart. If your liver is trembling, that means you’re afraid. ☜

2. Carmen is being referred to with the knightly Sir. ☜