Damn Reincarnation
Chapter 103 – The Market (3)
‘Where did he go?’
Ujicha, chief warrior of the Garung tribe, couldn’t help but feel flustered. He had lost sight of the slave trader. Could the man have escaped? But would he really have run away, leaving behind the elves that he had paid so much money to purchase and even his own wife?
More importantly, if the merchant really had run away, just when had he found an opening to do so? Ujicha had been looking right at him, never once turning his gaze away.
In fact, he had blinked a few times. As he was only human, Ujicha definitely couldn’t go without blinking.
It was precisely during that blink of an eye. That span of time was long enough for Eugene to accelerate away from his position.
Bam!
A kick from outside his field of vision slammed into Ujicha’s jaw. This blow completely surpassed all of Ujicha’s expectations. Who could have imagined that a lowly slave trader would be able to move like that?
As a result, Ujicha didn’t even manage to let out a cry. The surprise attack was too quick and sharp. With just one blow, Ujicha had lost consciousness. His pupils widened sightlessly as the over two meters tall giant staggered on his feet.
Splat.
Collapsing backward, Ujicha’s bald head fell right in the center of a puddle of vomit. Dajarang, who was still gagging as he found himself unable to shake off the motion sickness, couldn’t help but let out a scream.
“Wh-wh-what!”
Without even wiping away the vomit that was staining his mouth, Dajarang jumped backward. At least, he tried to jump backward. As someone who had been overweight for most of his life, his overworked knees were unable to execute the sudden ‘leap!’ command.
In the end, Dajarang wasn’t able to back off as far as he had intended. After only having taken a couple of steps, the churning that this movement set off within his bloated body once again set off his urge to vomit.
“Uwaaaargh….”
Dajarang vomited all over the unconscious Ujicha’s face. Eugene had seen all sorts of messy and terrible things during his previous life, but his face still distorted in an honest look of disgust at the sight in front of him.
“Fuck, that’s nasty,” Eugene cursed.
Dajarang just kept vomiting. “Urp…. Uwaaargh….”
“Just how much did you eat that you can keep vomiting and vomiting without any sign of stopping?” Eugene spat out as he wriggled his fingers.
Strands of wind condensed around his fingertips and shot towards Dajarang.
Boom!
A bullet of wind struck Dajarang right in the solar plexus and stuck there without scattering. As someone who had contracted Tempest, the Spirit King of the Wind, Eugene could control this ‘breeze’ as easily as if it was the mana within his own core.
“Urp…. Uwaaargh…!”
The ball of wind embedded into the pit of Dajaran’s stomach began to swirl. As it drilled into Dajarang’s fat belly, it sent vibrations throughout the rest of his body. It wasn’t just Dajarang’s flesh that was sent rippling — the violent ball of wind shook Dajarang’s innards, forcing everything that still remained in his stomach and had yet to be vomited up and out of his esophagus.
For someone like Dajarang, who had been born to a count and lived a life without any suffering or hardship, the pain that he was presently feeling was an unknown sensation that he had never before experienced in his life and hoped never to experience again in the future. After Dajarang had vomited out everything that had been in his stomach, he was left crawling on the floor, tears and snot dripping down his face.
Dajarang begged, “Pl-pl-please, please spare me….”
“Who said that I was going to kill you?” Eugene spat out as he wrinkled his nose.
He had been worried that Dajarang would just keep vomiting without being able to answer his questions, so Eugene’s assault had just been meant to make sure that there was nothing left to vomit. Instead of getting any closer to Dajarang, Eugene just pointed a finger at him.
“Hee!” Although Eugene had only pointed a finger at him, Dajarang let out a squeal and got onto his knees.
Dajarang would never forget the pain that he had just felt when those outstretched fingers had launched the ball of wind that had assaulted him. As such, Dajarang couldn’t help but preemptively get on his knees in a begging position. In all his twenty-three years of life, this was the first time that this young master had lacked confidence that his authority as the son of a count would be enough to protect him from the threat right in front of him.
“How much money do you have on you?” Eugene bluntly asked,
Pinching his outstretched index finger and his thumb together, Eugene formed a circle with his hand. It was obvious what that gesture symbolized, but this greedy demand actually reassured Dajarang. If all that Eugene wanted was money, wasn’t that simple and easy to handle?
“I-I have about three hundred million sals in actual currency. In jewels, I have about a billion sals,” Dajarang honestly confessed.
“And what would you do if I asked you for that money?” Eugene prompted.
Dajarang stammered, “O-of course I’ll give it to you….”
“I’m grateful that you’re willing to give it to me. But maybe you’ll remember this incident later and try to get revenge on me?” Eugene purposefully emphasized the word ‘later’ as he stared at Dajarang.
These words caused Dajarang to make the best use of his head in all his twenty-three years of life. He immediately reached a conclusion: since the word ‘later’ had been uttered, wouldn’t it mean that the merchant didn’t intend to kill him?
Dajarang immediately shook his head.
“O-on Count Kobal’s honor, something like that definitely won’t happen,” Dajarang swore.
“Why are you placing your innocent father’s honor on the line?” Eugene grumbled as he stared at Dajarang. “I never did anything to provoke you. If I really had to come up with something, it would be that I didn’t sell you the slave that you wanted. But as a merchant, it’s up to me to decide whether or not I sell you something, isn’t that right?”
“Y-yes,” Dajarang quickly agreed.
“Then things should have been over once we parted ways, but then you had to try and kill me. Isn’t that right? You definitely colluded with that native who’s lying over there, the one who’s still out cold. You were planning on killing me, and also planning on killing the woman who’s with me, then you would just steal away the elves that I’ve been transporting for yourself. Am I right?” Eugene eyed him challengingly.
“Yes…,” Dajarang reluctantly admitted. All the while, Dajarang was inwardly praying to himself, ‘Don’t wake up.’
Ujicha was still lying there unconscious. But what would happen if he woke up? Would Ujicha be able to do anything to change this situation? The chief warrior of the Garung Tribe, someone who had been knocked unconscious by a single blow from this slave trader, and who had begged for his life while pissing himself in front of the monster that had killed Bron?
Trembling in fear, Dajarang slowly reached into his pocket.
Eugene nodded in approval. “Since you’re the one who caused all of this to happen in the first place, you should also be the one to take responsibility for this.”
The item that Dajarang pulled out of his pocket was a small purse. Darang turned the purse upside down and shook it. Several large jewelry boxes fell out with a thud.
“This is the price that you’ve paid to keep your life,” Eugene warned him as he stared at Dajarang with narrowed eyes. “If you try to find me again, then you won’t be able to pay me off with just jewels, I truly will take your life as the cost of your sins.”
Eugene’s face had been disguised. The identity that he had used to enter Samar was also a fake one. And in the first place, ever since he had truly entered the forest, he had never actually used his identity card. As for the currency and the jewels that he was currently taking from Dajarang? Things like these could be laundered cleanly no matter the amount.
Even so, Eugene had still given Dajarang a warning. Then, he summoned up a breeze that carried the heavy jewelry boxes over to him.
“...Aargh,” just then Ujicha opened his eyes with a groan.
The first thing that he sensed was an indescribably complex and subtle ‘flavor.’ Behind that, lingered a somewhat familiar ‘smell.’ These two things quickly awakened his dazed mind.
“Gagh!” Ujicha shouted as he shot upright.
While scraping off the vomit that covered his head and face, Ujicha quickly took in his surroundings. He saw Dajarang on his knees, and the jewelry boxes floating in the air. And in front of him stood the slave trader.
Rage drove Ujicha’s body into immediate action. He let out a roar and charged at Eugene.
Ujicha wasn’t someone who had won the position of the chief warrior solely on the basis of his fearsome looks. His mana, which had quickly sprung into operation, accelerated Ujicha’s body into a blur.
However, this level of acceleration still seemed slow to Eugene. He clicked his tongue and gently pressed his foot into the ground.
Bababang!
The ground in front of him rose to become a barrier.
‘Magic!’ Ujicha realized in alarm as kicked off the ground into a jump. As he did, he felt that something was off.
The warriors of Samar were all able to receive the protection of the spirits without having to learn summoning magic. The warriors who were born in this vast forest possessed an affinity to spirits from birth, and in Ujicha’s case, he had received the protection of the spirits of the wind.
The primal spirits existing in every gust of wind were what allowed Ujicha to move so agilely for his size. However, his current leap forward wasn’t as powerful as he’d been expecting.
Ujicha had intended on leaping high into the sky and crushing this cheeky slave trader’s skull by smashing down on him from above. But his current leap only barely allowed him to jump over the barrier.
‘What’s going on?’ Ujicha asked himself.
The reason was quite simple. Primitive spirits without their own will couldn’t resist the command of higher spirits, and all the wind in the area was under Eugene’s control. In other words, Ujicha’s compatibility with Eugene was the absolute worst.
Eugene waved his right hand towards Ujicha.
Roooar!
A huge gust of wind swallowed Ujicha. The gust then transformed into a storm of blades, tearing Ujicha’s clothes into pieces.
“Gaaagh!” Ujicha screamed as he struggled in the middle of this slicing whirlwind.
Eugene stared at Ujicha with an indifferent expression on his face. Unlike his hairless scalp, Ujicha’s body was covered in thick hair. Eugene nodded to himself and clenched his hand into a fist.
Bang!
The gust of wind exploded. With his body engulfed by the wind, Ujicha had all of his hair torn out at the root by the explosion, leaving not a single strand behind.
“Kyaaah!” Ujicha let out a high-pitched scream as he experienced a pain the likes of which he had never felt before in his life.
The smooth-shaven Ujicha fell to the ground, but he didn’t manage to land on his feet. Eugene raised another gust of wind that lifted Ujicha back into the air.
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“L-let go of me!” Ujicha demanded as he tried to somehow wrestle himself free of the wind’s grap.
Ujicha’s core churned as he squeezed all he could out of his mana and earnestly prayed to the spirits that had granted him their protection. In addition to that, he even activated the battle sorcery of the Garung tribe.
The Garung tribe’s battle sorcery borrowed the power of the soul. It could be seen as a kind of necromancy. It wasn’t just the Garung — there were several tribes that used this type of battle sorcery that was derived from necromancy, and the techniques that Ujicha used weren’t anything uncommon to Samar.
But it was something that in Eugene’s opinion shouldn’t be used. Eugene felt the souls that were being drawn to Ujicha. It was similar to how black magic could summon resentful spirits and completely erase the selves from their past lives.
‘How disgusting,’ Eugene thought with a scowl.
Eugene hated this type of sorcery because of how much it resembled black magic. As such, he didn’t feel the need to show any mercy. After all, his opponent wasn’t someone who deserved mercy in this first place. This bastard was the one who had tried to attack him unprovoked.
“Uwaaagh!”
Dajarang covered his ears, his body trembling as he tried to block out the screams that were coming from above his head. There was also crackling and popping as Ujicha’s bones were forcibly twisted. Ujicha quickly started screaming for mercy, causing Dajarang to recall a memory from just a few days ago that he had earnestly hoped never to recall.
It was the memory of the monster that had torn Bron into two pieces with such ease. Their bestial eyes that had flashed gold from beneath their hood, and the sharp fangs that appeared each time the monster’s lips curled up into a smile.
‘I-I just want to go back,’ Dajarang desperately prayed. ‘Back to my home… to Shimuin….’
The sound of Ujicha’s screams began to fade away. It wasn’t because the screams had stopped; instead, the source of the screams was quickly flying away from Dajarng.
Would a human be able to survive having their limbs twisted like a pretzel and then being thrown into the distance? Even if fate somehow allowed them to survive, how would they be able to continue living in this savage forest with a body that couldn’t move on its own?
But none of that mattered to Eugene. He packed the jewelry boxes inside of his cloak, then he returned to the cart.
“May you have a peaceful death,” Kristina prayed in the direction that Ujicha had flown with her hands clasped in front of her.
These words felt like a nasty joke to Eugene, he sneered and said, “It’s ridiculous to expect a peaceful death for him. If he somehow manages to survive, he’s in for a fate worse than death; and even if he gets lucky and dies as soon as he hits the ground, he’ll still have to suffer all that pain before he dies.”
“However, after his death, he may find peace,” Kristina responded with a soft smile.
Yep, she was just as twisted as expected.
As he hid such a thought, Eugene grabbed hold of the reins. With a rattle, the cart began to move.
The elves were completely silent, not even daring to breathe. However, even as they did their best to not attract attention, they were glancing over at Dajarang who was still kneeling on the ground. The elves, who had become accustomed to being persecuted while being sold as slaves, felt an unfamiliar pleasure when they saw this human noble kneeling on the ground and pleading for his life, still not daring to raise his head.
The same went for Lavera. She touched the scarred pit that had once been her right eye before it was stabbed out with a sword by her former master and then cauterized. An unfamiliar heat was burning in her eye socket. Heat of a completely different kind from the pain that she had felt when she was burned.
‘...How cool,’ Lavera thought to herself as she stared at Eugene’s back with a passionate eye.
* * *
“...I think that you should probably head west,” Signard said vaguely.
“Your words don’t sound very certain,” Eugene critiqued.
“It can’t be helped. I told you that I haven’t been able to properly retain the memories,” Signard grumbled with a frown. “All that’s left of my memories are… a few fragmented recollections. Solely relying on those, I wandered around desperately searching for our domain.”
“If that’s the case, then why don’t we just go looking for it together?” Eugene offered, his head tilted to the side in question.
Signard didn’t answer right away. After staring at Eugene for a few moments, he grinned and shook his head.
“Of course I can’t do that. Because I don’t know what might happen while I’m away from the village,” Signard explained.
Although it was the first time that Eugene had made this offer, he had already expected that Signard would reply in such a manner. The fairy trees’ barrier wasn’t absolute. The reason why this village built for the wandering elves had lasted for all these years was because Signard cut down all the intruders who attempted to approach it.
“...In the recent years, I’ve been coming in more frequent contact with the dark elves,” Signard muttered as he stroked the sword at his side. “Every time they draw near, I catch, interrogate and execute them. By doing so, I’ve been able to keep abreast of the situation. I’ve heard that the Corruptor, Iris, has been trying to infect more of the elves with her corruption in order to secure her position.”
“...” Eugene listened silently.
“Isn’t it funny? That girl is a monster — no, she’s a piece of shit that shouldn’t even exist. So much so that it’s even hard to believe that we were once the same race, much less belonging to the same nation. After being responsible for massacring so many elves three hundred years ago, does she really think she can just take the remaining elves into her embrace at this point?”
Creak.
Signard gripped the hilt of his sword tightly as he ground his teeth. “I can’t trust her word. Iris and her dark elves say that they are only making the wandering elves an ‘offer’, but there is no way that’s the truth. They must be intimidating those poor elves and forcibly turning them into dark elves. If the elves refuse to accept the offer, then they would surely be killed. What would happen if the dark elves were to come… while I was absent from the village?”
Signard had taken part in the war three hundred years ago. He was one of the few survivors left among the elven rangers. In a forest that had been set on fire by Iris, he had seen hundreds of corpses belonging to elves who had had their intestines pulled out. This scene had burned itself into Signard’s brain, becoming an unshakeable memory that had haunted him for the past hundreds of years.
“...If we do manage to find the elven territory, then it might help you to overcome your trauma,” Eugene said with a bitter smile. “After all, since no one had been able to find it for hundreds of years, it should still be at peace.”
“...Yes, that’s right,” Signard muttered as he loosened his tight grip on the hilt of his sword.
“If we aren’t able to find it, then don’t feel too disappointed,” Eugene continued. “It might not be as large as Samar, but the forest at our main estate is also pretty large. It wouldn’t make a noticeable difference even if a hundred or so elves started living within it.”
“...More than that, it should be much safer,” Signard sighed as he looked at Eugene with a relieved expression. “...Thank you, Hamel.”
Eugen tried to brush him off, “What are you saying all of sudden?”
“...Because if you hadn’t come here, I wouldn’t have had any hope of safely bringing the elves to leave this village. As such I must express my gratitude,” Signard explained sincerely.
“Well, what else can I say,” Eugene accepted this thanks with a snort and stood up. “So anyway. I should just go west from here…. Is there anything else?”
“Since hundreds of years have passed, all of the landmarks should also have changed,” Signard admitted with a shrug.
“Useless bastard,” Eugene scoffed.
“...While heading west, pay close attention to the leaf. If you do that, then you should probably be able to find your way into the territory.” Signard lowered his gaze and let out a sigh. “...I’m afraid that I have no other advice for you.”
“Then that’s all I need to know. I’ll set off immediately.” Eugene patted Signard on the shoulder and left the hut.
Kristina was already waiting for him at the entrance to the village.
After offering a bow to Signard, who had followed behind Eugene, she turned to Eugene and asked, “Are we heading out now?”
“Yep,” Eugene confirmed with a nod.
Kristina wasn’t the only one waiting for them at the entrance. All of the elves who lived in this village had come out to see them off. It seemed that there were believers who worshiped the god of light among them, as some of the elves put their hands together and raised a prayer to Kristina.
No, it wasn’t just Kristina. Several elves were also looking at Eugene with expectant eyes.
Such gazes weren’t unfamiliar to him.
‘It’s heavy,’ Eugene thought to himself.
Whether it was in the past or the present, such gazes that were full of expectation felt unbearably heavy. But did the elves have any option other than praying earnestly for Eugene and Kristina’s success? They had to know that his village wasn’t guaranteed to stay safe. So they couldn’t help but hang their expectations onto Eugene and Kristina.
As he looked around, Eugen recalled something, ‘Vermouth….’
Narissa was sobbing and crying as she said goodbye. Though they’d only been traveling together for a few days, she seemed to have developed a crush on him. Even as she cried, she was looking at Eugene with admiration in her tearful eyes.
Lavella was also looking at him with eyes similar to Narissa’s.
Finishing the thought, Eugene asked his old friend, ‘...Did all this feel even heavier for you than it does for me?’
Everyone calling him a hero and having to bear everyone’s expectations. No matter where he went, those who recognized Vermouth would always ask him to save the world, defeat the Demon Kings, and avenge the deaths of their children, parents, and friends.
“I would hate to be a hero,” Eugene unconsciously spat out his true feelings.
“...Huh?” Kristina turned to Eugene with a puzzled expression.
“That’s just the way I feel,” Eugene muttered with a shrug.
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