Damn Reincarnation Chap 416

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The bit clamped between her teeth was left with no marks, let alone broken, no matter how fervently she chewed away at it. She had already been filled with frustration and despair over this matter from a long time ago, but that didn’t mean she felt no regret.

“Grrrrkk.”

Hemoria.

That was her name. She had no last name. As a child, she had a different name and lineage. The moment one joined the Maleficarum as an Inquisitor, their name and surname disappeared, and they were left only with a number as their identity.

While most Inquisitors went through this process, it had been different for Hemoria. She had been different from the other Inquisitors of Maleficarum. She had been an elite acknowledged by all.

After all, her father was the highest-ranking Inquisitor of Maleficarum, the prospective head, the Punisher Atarax. Atarax was an elite destined for a potential ascent to the rank of cardinal should he prove his faith after his honorable retirement.

Atarax had been an Inquisitor as far as Hemoria remembered. Thus, Atarax had no family name, and naturally, Hemoria inherited none.

Her name... was bestowed upon her by her deceased mother. At least, that was the answer she received when she asked her father.

He was a commendable father. She revered and learned much from him, especially in matters of faith. He was a pillar of devotion.

Heretics were unforgivable; pagans needed to be extinguished. Dealing with malevolence and evil often dragged Inquisitors down a dark path. Hence, one always needed to harbor the light within. Even if one’s body was tainted by filth or misused, one always needed to have faith in the light...

Hemoria kept her father's teachings close to her heart.

When she first visited the Faculty of Divine Magic hand in hand with her father, Cardinal Pietro of the academy welcomed her with a benevolent smile. Then, she had been laid down on a magical seal. Several priests had surrounded Hemoria and conducted various experiments on her.

Ancient blood magic and necromancy, acquired from the Holy Empire’s witch hunts long ago, were infused within Hemoria. Additionally, she was reshaped from within using other various methods and influences.

The pain had been excruciating, but she endured, believing it was all for her father and the Light. Indeed, thanks to these experiments and surgeries, Hemoria became a unique existence. She was able to make contributions and gain recognition in Maleficarum, independent of her father's influence and position.

She had to wear an iron mask due to the side effects of blood magic that sharpened her teeth to be beast-like. Moreover, the necromancy infused within her occasionally caused her to go rampant, and she had to meditate silently to silence it.

Despite having to go through such things, Hemoria neither resented her father nor despaired over her situation. She believed it was all for her father and the Light. She had genuine faith in serving the Light, and she hoped that one day, she would surely ascend to heaven.

But now....

Everything seemed different. She thought about it all differently. Amelia Merwin had revealed truths to Hemoria that she never wished to know.

Hemoria was indeed a being worthy of being called the daughter of Atarax. But her nature was far from common. Hemoria was a chimera created from the blood and sperm of Atarax. She was a chimera created from a human. She was an existence forbidden by the laws of the continent. That was Hemoria.

Her sharp fangs were not mere side effects of blood magic. From the outset, Hemoria possessed vampiric traits due to her genes. From the moment of her creation, it was destined that blood magic would someday be infused into her.

The Church of Light declared that blood magic was not dark magic. But that was a lie. Blood magic originated from the power of vampires, one of the demonfolk species. Blood magic was the result of lesser vampires imitating the powers of greater vampires.

It wasn't merely that she was tainted by filth or using it. Hemoria's very existence was an abomination. She was a product of heresy and sacrilege. She could never be accepted by the Light.

What did this imply?

Hemoria could never ascend to heaven.

“Grrrrk.”

Yet, time and time again, Hemoria prayed to the Light and begged for forgiveness for her sins.

Though I have this form, let me worship you. It's true that I consumed many to survive in that pit of corpses, but please forgive my sins.

Unfortunately, no answer ever came to her prayers.

She knew why. No matter how many times she prayed for forgiveness, Hemoria had already lost faith in the Light.

The Hero, Eugene Lionheart, had recklessly intruded on the Fount of Light. Hemoria had blocked his path with other Inquisitors and priests. The sacred ritual held at the Fount of Light could not be interrupted, not even by the Hero. The ritual had to be seen to completion for the Light and for the sake of the world.

Yet, the Hero disregarded it all.

Eugene Lionheart.

His actions were so ruthless and cruel that it was nearly impossible to believe he was the Hero. It was a complete and merciless slaughter. That day, hundreds of Inquisitors and holy knights fell to Eugene's sword.

He swung the Holy Sword without mercy, which, without defying the Hero's intent, allowed him to massacre hundreds of believers.

Hemoria witnessed it all and remembered every detail. The holy knights and Inquisitors cried out to the Light, to their god, as they were slaughtered. Yet, none were sheltered by its grace.

The same went for Hemoria. She, too, cried out to god as she fell into a pit among numerous corpses. Her limbs had been severed, and she had writhed in agony. But no salvation or miracle came to her. The only reason Hemoria survived that day was that she drank the blood of other believers and was picked up by Amelia Merwin.

Amelia Merwin.

Needless to say, Hemoria harbored deep resentment for Amelia. In the first place, Hemoria hardly felt any other emotion than hatred for anyone.

She despised the religion rotten with lies and corruption. She loathed her father, who thoroughly deceived and exploited her. She hated the Light that did not grant salvation. She detested Eugene Lionheart, who severed her limbs and cast her into the abyss. She bore a hatred for Amelia Merwin, who gave her grotesque limbs she never asked for, implanted horrid things into her body, and muzzled and collared her like a dog.

She wanted to kill them all.

Snap.

Hemoria ground on the gag while narrowing her eyes.

Amelia had once said that dogs should be tethered in the courtyard. And so, Hemoria found herself tied in the courtyard. Her home was the doghouse just behind her, and a leash ensured she couldn't stray beyond the yard.

This was the territory of Destruction, Ravesta.

It had been quite some time since Amelia Merwin had arrived in this place. For the initial period in Ravesta, Amelia busied herself traveling to and fro from the mansion, meeting with many demons.

However, at some point, Amelia scarcely ventured out, not even to the courtyard. The last Hemoria had seen of Amelia was when Noir Giabella, the Queen of the Night Demons, made her sudden appearance and laid waste to the mansion with her wicked disposition.

That fateful day was three months past. Amelia Merwin always acted so proud and haughty. However, she could offer no resistance against the explosive wrath of Noir Giabella. As Noir Giabella toppled the mansion with boisterous laughter, all Amelia Merwin did was let out pitiable screams.

“Tsk.... Heh heh.” The memory would not fade from her mind. Hemoria chuckled quietly while touching the chain connected to her collar.

Amelia Merwin carried herself with such arrogance as she boasted about her status as the Staff of Incarceration. However, she was still an insignificant existence before a true demon. And to think she was hiding out in Ravesta out of fear of the Wise Sienna and Eugene Lionheart! The more Hemoria pondered this truth, the more joy she felt.

"You seem pleased,” a voice came from behind.

Hemoria turned to face it without flinching. Though the figure appeared without a sound, she knew very well to whom the voice belonged.

Alphiero Lasat. He was a demon who served the Demon King of Destruction.

Though her faith in the Light had crumbled, her memories as a former Inquisitor remained. Hemoria still found demons repugnant.

Yet, oddly enough, she felt a slight warmth toward Alphiero.

Was it due to the alluring nature inherent to vampires? Or perhaps the vampire gene implanted within Hemoria was drawn to Alphiero, a high-ranked vampire. She couldn't be sure which was the case.

Nor did she feel the need to know. For whenever they met, Alphiero was kind, and he shared much with her.

"Your mistress? Still locked up inside, I presume?" asked Alphiero.

Hemoria nodded. Alphiero gave a smirk before raising a finger and tracing it in the air.

"Her condition worsens by the day. She seems to be holding on, but... I wonder for how much longer,” he commented.

Amelia Merwin was weakening, fading even. Ravesta might have been Amelia's homeland, but the moment she forged a pact with the Demon King of Incarceration, her ties to her homeland were severed. The malignant power of Destruction clashed with the dark power of Incarceration. The clash was consuming Amelia from the inside.

“But seeing your mistress grow weaker must be pleasing to you. In fact, hasn’t your restriction weakened considerably?” asked Alphiero.

Hemoria could not respond verbally due to the gag in her mouth. Instead, she shook the chain draped around her neck for Alphiero to see. This swaying chain, crafted from Amelia's black magic, was a shackle that bound her to Amelia.

"Heh, I’m not talking about that physical constraint. I’m asking about the restriction planted within you,” Alphiero said with a chuckle.

Amelia was astute. She knew that the relationship between her and her pets was founded on coercion and violence. She allowed no room for emotional misconceptions or misunderstandings.

Her sadistic affection and discipline only sowed fierce resistance, hatred, and thoughts of vengeance in her pets. She also recognized that these creatures would never truly love their mistress. Given the chance, they would betray and aim to kill her in a heartbeat. freewe(b)novel.c(o)m

Thus, inside Hemoria, there was a restriction that ensured she could never betray Amelia. A minuscule stake was embedded deep within her heart, and at Amelia's will, it could burst Hemoria's heart at any moment.

Hemoria shook her head while chewing on her gag.

This iron mask and gag were also physical constraints. If Hemoria were to rashly remove them, she would immediately be punished by Amelia. The stake within her heart would cause her excruciating pain.

"Is that so? Well, I guess you couldn’t freely answer even if you wanted to,” said Alphiero.

With a sly grin, he walked forward. His movement was more a glide than a walk. He approached Hemoria like a ghost, then stopped before her and whispered in her ear, "I know you wish for your mistress’ downfall, so I’ll give you some good news.”

Hemoria’s eyes sparkled upon hearing his words. She looked back at Alphiero.

"Over recent months, dungeons in the Nahama desert belonging to the black wizards have been raided. The frequency is unpredictable, but the attacks are far from haphazard. Nearly ten dungeons have been annihilated, and more than a hundred black wizards have been buried in the desert,” said Alphiero.

Here, the underground city of Ravesta existed in a dimensional rift beneath the island. It was a location completely isolated from everything, and as such, one had to rely on a few demons with connections to the outside world if they wanted to acquire news. One such demon was Alphiero.

Amelia Merwin was no exception.

Though she was the de facto ruler of the black wizard dungeons of the desert, the pervasive power of Destruction in Ravesta weakened the bonds she had with the human black wizards.

It was even truer now since Amelia Merwin was weakening and nearing death. She could not even maintain the connection to the outside on her own. She was reliant on Alphiero for information and communication from the outside.

"Do you understand the significance of my words? Your mistress’ foundation is crumbling. Someone is intentionally targeting her. And who do you think that might be?” asked Alphiero.

Hemoria hesitated. Her cheeks twitched. She pondered momentarily on whether she could genuinely express the emotions she felt and laugh.

“I was wondering who the villain responsible for the assault was. It turned out to be an unexpected figure. Melkith El-Hayah, the White Tower Master of Aroth. But the Tower Masters of Aroth refuse to be used as strategic weapons for Aroth. This age-old tradition is as clear as the separation between Aroth’s monarchy and council. In fact, this distinction of the towers is why many wizards choose to study in Aroth. In that case, Melkith El-Hayah tearing through the desert doesn’t reflect the will of Aroth. Aroth has neither the reason nor justification to strike at Nahama,” explained Alphiero.

Hemoria listened to Alphiero’s explanation silently.

"Then, is Melkith El-Hayah acting of her own record? I’ve never met her personally, but I have heard tales of her eccentricity. Some even say she’s mad. However... even if she is an eccentric person, she should be aware of the weight of her existence as a tower master and the supreme master of spirit magic. She would understand the implications of launching a direct attack against your master,” continued Alphiero.

Hemoria had once met Melkith in the past.

When Eward, the eldest son of Lionheart, attempted a nefarious ritual at the Black Lion Castle, Atarax was dispatched to understand and rectify the situation. He sought the cooperation of the tower masters of Aroth.

The Melkith she saw then... left no profound impression. Given the circumstances and the gravity of the event, Melkith behaved rather discreetly.

A ritual of the Demon King had been conducted at the Black Lion Castle. A young man, albeit a member of the side branch, had been used as a sacrifice. An elder of the Lionheart family had received a grave wound from his own grandson, and his grandson, along with the disgraced eldest son of the main family and a promising young man from the side branch, had plotted the family’s downfall. In the end, they were executed. Even Melkith couldn't act rashly in such a scenario.

"Did Melkith El-Hayah hold a personal grudge against your master? Depending on the depth of the grudge, she might attack impulsively. However, I believe there's another puppeteer behind Melkith,” said Alpherio.

Hemoria gritted her teeth, and Alphiero gave a smirk.

"Your master, by nature, has made many enemies. Yet... among those adversaries capable of manipulating Melkith El-Hayah, a tower master of Aroth, there are but two."

Alphiero confidently raised two fingers.

"One is the Hero, Eugene Lionheart. He has clashed with your master several times. While I'm not privy to all the details, if your master desires his death, he would undoubtedly reciprocate the sentiment."

"....." Hemoria just gnashed her teeth.

"The other is Sienna of Calamity. Her hatred and rage are palpable even to me. Your master desecrated the Tomb of Hamel of Extermination. She desecrated his corpse. Such news would have reached Sienna of Calamity’s ears."

Recalling the ferocity of Sienna from three hundred years ago sent shivers down Alphiero's spine.

He had never directly confronted Sienna and her allies, but the mere memory of witnessing her power from a distance was enough to unsettle him.

"Sienna of the Calamity is now targeting your master,” stated Alpherio.

Hemoria couldn't hide her expression any longer. She quietly chuckled in delight.

"However, even Sienna of Calamity wouldn't dare to breach Ravesta. I even wonder if she's aware of your master's hideout here,” said Alphiero.

His voice softened as he continued, "I've heard that Sienna of Calamity is currently in Aroth. She is actively engaging with the Archwizards of the Red and Blue Towers. Meanwhile, the White Tower Master is scouring the desert... as if trying to lure out your master."

"Heh... heh heh..." Hemoria finally couldn’t hold in her laughter.

"The desert’s black wizards are the Sultan's secret force. They're under attack, and while the Sultan would be agitated, that indecisive swine can't even decide how to respond," Alphiero said.

The continent's allegiance hung in the balance. Would they choose to serve Helmuth or continue to play both sides as they had always done? Sultan Alabur of Nahama had yet to decide.

"Your master does not wish for the foundation she built in Nahama to crumble. What lies there isn’t merely a network of dark wizards. The demons of Helmuth, who are using these wizards as conduits, are the true strength of your master,” explained Alphiero.

“.....” Hemoria silently contemplated this information.

"I wonder what choice your master will make. Will she remain hidden in this land, even if she risks losing all that she has prepared? Or will she, true to her title as the Staff of Incarceration, confront Sienna of Calamity head-on?" Alphiero questioned.

It was likely that....

Amelia Merwin would not leave Ravesta.

Alphiero thought so as he passed Hemoria. That pitiable half-breed might wish for Amelia to plunge into the flames, but Amelia was not so naive. To achieve her goals, she would consider any humiliation or pain as mere tools, a trivial means to an end.

'What does she truly desire?'

Amelia Merwin had come to Ravesta to protect herself. She feared both Sienna of Calamity and the Hero, Eugene Lionheart. Yet, ironically, in Ravesta, Amelia Merwin was withering away.

Had she not foreseen this?

Even if she had, her continued confinement in the mansion, especially now as she seemed to be fading away... must have been a deliberate strategy.

"Phew...."

The mansion was now fully restored after being completely decimated by Noir Giabella three months ago. As Alphiero entered its doors, he found himself involuntarily exhaling a deep breath.

The mansion's interior was different now, distorted.

A spiral corridor descended downwards.

At the very bottom, Alphiero felt the presence of a demon.