Damn Reincarnation - Chapter 603

Vermouth staggered as he approached them but was devoid of any reason. His unfocused, dim eyes showed absolutely nothing.

Everyone standing before him felt it. The entity approaching them was something else wearing Vermouth's skin. They recognized that this being was both the essence of Vermouth and the primal force that birthed him. No amount of pleading with past connections or emotions would stop it from fulfilling its nature of Destruction.

"Vermouth," Eugene called his name softly. He didn’t expect a single call to awaken Vermouth, but the name had slipped out involuntarily as the being approached them.

As if responding to the call, Destruction raised an arm. The void twisted, and chaotic colors spread in all directions. Everyone reacted immediately at the same time.

With a heavy sound, Molon leaped forward, kicking off the ground. He wielded no axe now; his lifelong weapon had shattered in the battle with the Demon King of Incarceration. Yet Molon raised his hand as if he were holding an axe.

Whoosh.

Sparks flew between Eugene and Molon. Molon was the Incarnation and the Greatest Warrior of the God of Victory, and thus, his god bestowed a new weapon unto him. Suddenly, an axe appeared in Molon’s empty hand. Showing absolutely no surprise, Molon swung the new axe over Destruction’s head.

But the axe was stopped mid-air. Though Molon pushed down with a mighty force, the barrier created by tangled colors remained unmoved. Despite the collision, no sound echoed.

From behind, Sienna raised her staff, Mary. She quickly saw through the clashing flames and the chaotic colors and immediately devised a spell with soul force that could find its way through the cracks. She conjured a spear and launched it silently, which passed by Molon and reached Destruction.

The spear exploded just as it reached him. Again, there was no sound. Though it penetrated the barrier around him, Sienna's magic inflicted no damage on Destruction. The magic simply vanished, and Destruction's gaze shifted to Sienna.

But it was only his gaze that shifted. This place was none other than the belly of Destruction. Here, a mere glance could cause a phenomenon. Sienna sensed the impending death enveloping her but did not move.

It was because the moment of approaching death was interrupted by a different flashing light. Sparks spread through the void. Using the Saints as his wings, Eugene Lionheart raised his hand, and with that alone, extinguished the colors.

Eugene grasped the Divine Sword, which burned brightly. Long ago, Agaroth had barely managed to resist by swinging his sword wildly. But it was different now. What Eugene held in his hands were the desires that transcended space and time. The will of the world, which opposed destruction, pushed his back.

The light drew a line.

Booom!

For the first time, a loud sound erupted. The chaotic colors scattered, and Destruction was pushed back. Watching from a distance, the Demon King of Incarceration unwittingly marveled. Eugene’s Light wasn’t extinguished even inside the belly of Destruction, and the Demon King of Incarceration could instinctively feel what fueled that light.

Eugene was not like Agaroth. The divinity of war that Agaroth held did not shine long within the belly of Destruction. Eugene Lionheart's divinity was not war.

‘However....’ The Demon King of Incarceration couldn’t stop himself from having doubts.

Though he marveled, he couldn’t be sure of the end. The Demon King of Incarceration clung to the fraying thread of consciousness and faced Destruction directly. Unlike Agaroth, who could only stop Destruction in his place with desperate struggle, Eugene had forced Destruction back, albeit slightly.

"Tsk," Eugene muttered.

He could feel a distinct difference. This was unlike Agaroth's time and was different from even a week ago. Now, Eugene and his companions did not sense the ominous dread, anxiety, or madness they always felt from the Demon King of Destruction. They were resisting the horrific erosion of his dark magic.

Eugene had never dreamed of overpowering it, but now that he was directly in contact with Destruction, he could clearly feel it: merely touching it seemed to wear down his divine power, his very existence. No, it definitely was wearing him down.

"Vermouth,” he called out.

Eugene stepped back with a dry laugh. He stared into the unfocused eyes but could not see Vermouth within.

Still, Eugene continued unabated, "It seems one can only go mad here, whether they want to or not."

Destruction stepped forward again. His hands moved and drew colors. Flames erupted to oppose the onslaught of different colors. The light of the burning flames was immediately painted over by the colors and disappeared, but then the light flared up once again.

Eugene cut through the tangled colors again and again. But cut as he might, the colors continued to grow, spread, and blocked his way. A barrage of strikes and magic rained down on the growing colors. Though each magic spell immediately vanished upon contact, Sienna continued to conjure them without rest.

"Molon!" Eugene shouted. Even before he had called out, Molon had already grasped Eugene's intention and raised his axe.

Wooosh!

The divine axe, shaped by divine power, altered its size to suit Molon's intent. Molon Ruhr was a man who had almost reached divinity through sheer strength alone. Now, he exerted all his power, blending it with Eugene’s divinity to manifest a miracle.

The already large axe grew even larger. Although there was neither a sky nor a ceiling, the axe grew, seemingly ready to pierce the heavens. The blade at its end grew large enough to cleave the sky and the earth. And Molon's hands did not falter as he gripped the enormous axe.

The colors enveloping Destruction fluctuated. The trembling spread to the void. The intensifying tremors spread down to the ground.

[Sir Eugene, look over there,] Kristina's voice echoed in Eugene's mind.

The trembling of the void reflected blurry scenes from the outside and simultaneously revealed the landscape of Lehainjar. Armies of Nur continued to pour out, trampling over scattered corpses. They were being contested, and their advance blocked by the Divine Army.

Eugene couldn't keep watching as the heavily cracked ground began to collapse under their feet. He had not anticipated the ground to give away, and Eugene hastily reached out to the injured Molon. Molon slumped to the ground with his ragged arm as he was moved beside Eugene.

Then the fall began. The widely spread wings enveloped Molon, and Anise's touch swiftly healed his wounds. Gasping for air, Molon lifted his head. From above, he saw Destruction falling.

"Hamel, that voice just now...," Molon muttered.

"I don't know,” answered Eugene.

Eugene bit his lip. Was it a pained moan or a sigh? Either way, it wasn't a sound Destruction should make. Had it been an effective strategy to drive their attack into the existing wound? Had it been quite fatal? Or perhaps their attack had awakened Vermouth’s consciousness.

"Where are we falling?" Sienna asked while drawing closer to them.

She glanced down as she prepared her magic. The bottom was not visible, making it impossible to gauge the distance of the fall.

But one thing was certain. The atmosphere was different compared to the place they were in before the fall. It was deeper. The air was foul. Breathing alone made the head spin and the mana unstable.

"Is it alright to fall? Rather—" Sienna questioned.

"It's fine,” Eugene responded without hesitation.

He, too, felt the foul air, the instability, the madness — all the toxins. But Eugene thought this was exactly the right course. This rampant madness and ominous feeling were proof that they were near the core of the Demon King of Destruction.

They stopped falling.

"What is that?" someone said as they all looked in the same direction.

Their gazes were no longer on the falling form of Destruction. There was something more eye-catching in front of them. They saw something beyond the unpleasant and contaminated currents. There was a distortion in space, something that looked almost fabricated and unreal.

There lay a grotesque and repulsive mass, rotting yet with fresh flesh entangled like rags. It was similarly mixed with skin and bone and resembled a sculpture that a vile sorcerer might create as a wicked hobby. It couldn't possibly be alive.

Yet everyone felt it. It was alive. It was throbbing.

"It's the heart," revealed a voice.

The Demon King of Incarceration slowly descended to the ground. He couldn't stand properly and slumped down while gasping for breath.

"The Heart of Destruction," he explained.

Eugene pulled an old chain from within his cloak. The chain trembled as if it might break at any moment. The very chain the Demon King of Incarceration had first bound to the Demon King of Destruction. Eugene swallowed hard and turned to look at the Demon King of Incarceration.

"Originally, I tied the chain to the throne where the Demon King of Destruction sat," Incarceration said.

Thus, the first hero became the Demon King of Incarceration.

"So, the throne became the heart," he concluded.

This was the deepest place within the belly of Destruction. The chain was originally connected, but even the Demon King of Incarceration had never seen the heart. He had wanted to see it but couldn't, and even if he had tried to get close, he couldn't.

"Destroy it,” came a voice. "Then it ends."

Everyone looked up.

They saw Vermouth clutching his chest.