Siennaâs memory was extracted using magic and played out in front of them as a video.
Two centuries ago, Sienna had spent decades creating the Circles Magic Formula. Afterward, she created the Eternal Hole to surpass the limit one could reach using the Circles Formula â the Ninth Circle.
Then, Sienna started preparing to enter seclusion.
After creating the Eternal Hole, Sienna no longer needed Akasha, so she donated the magical device containing the principles of the Eternal Hole and Akasha to Akron. She hoped that someday, a wizard would succeed in comprehending the Eternal Hole and materializing it in their body. If they had enough skill, they would be able to even interfere with Akasha and become its new master.
All of this had been in preparation for Sienna to sever her ties with the mortal world. Since donating the Eternal Hole and Akasha, Sienna severed all contact with the monarchy, the towers of magic, and the magic guild. She maintained some level of communication with her disciples, but even that dwindled as she passed on her position as the head of the Green Tower to one of her disciples.
Kazitan, where Hamelâs tomb was located, was a desert and a territory of Nahama, but until one hundred years ago, it belonged to Turas rather than Nahama.
Vermouth, Molon, Sienna, and Anise had created Hamelâs tomb deep underground on the outskirts of Turas, in Hamelâs hometown. They had erected statues and memorials before placing Hamelâs body in a sanctum sealed from intrusion.
The tomb was a forbidden place, inaccessible to those who desired entry and immune to an accidental discovery. Furthermore, as a final safeguard, Sienna and her comrades had enshrouded the entire tomb in a seal. Magic was cast over the tomb to preserve it in its original state even with the passage of time, and powerful familiars were stationed to protect it.
Sienna had discovered that Hamelâs tomb had been defiled at the same time she had been preparing to enter seclusion. The indomitable seal had been shattered, and the familiars had been obliterated. It had been an inconceivable catastrophe.
Dozens of years had passed since the tombâs creation. Vermouth had ascended as the patriarch of the newly founded Lionheart family, and his attention had been consumed by the education of his offspring. Molon had established a new kingdom, Ruhr, and ascended its throne. Anise had found it increasingly difficult to abandon Yuras after being venerated as the Saint.
Sienna had been no different. She had been consumed by her position as the Head of the Green Tower and her relentless pursuit of magical research to develop weapons against the Demon King of Incarceration. These commitments had cost her the time to pay annual respects at the memorial, but her absence could not have been the root of the issue with the tombâs guardians and the seal. Sienna had ensured that the safeguards were potent enough to endure centuries without needing maintenance.
Yet, the seal had been broken, and the familiars were killed. Such an outcome could only mean one thing: someone had intentionally wreaked havoc in the tomb.
âBut who? An eccentric wizard hellbent on carving out an underground lair? A dragon seeking a cozy slumber spot? Demons nursing a grudge against Hamel?
The identity of the perpetrator was irrelevant as their transgressions were unforgivable.
To defile Hammelâs tomb with their soiled footsteps was a sacrilege in itself, but their obliteration of the seals and guardians marked them as a clear enemy.
The scene playing from Siennaâs memories grew darker, then slowly gave way to light. What appeared was an ancient scene played out from Siennaâs gaze. While the tomb that Eugene discovered had been a mere husk of ruins, the tomb, as seen from Siennaâs eyes, wasnât yet destroyed.
The towering statue stood tall with not even a speck of dust on it. The memorial stone beneath it gleamed white, and the inscriptions etched into the walls were crisp, with not even a single letter faded.
Soon, Siennaâs gaze fell upon the desecrated â the familiars responsible for managing and protecting the tomb.
âHow dareâ¦!â
She roared, and the scene warped and wavered. It was a result of an uncontrolled release of her mana. Though the vision did not show Siennaâs face, everyone could feel the extent of her rage and her contorted expression.
Sienna began moving towards the deepest part of the tomb, where Hamelâs body was located. She sensed movement in that area.
An intruder. How had they managed to open the door to the room? She didnât bother voicing her concern aloud. At that moment, Siennaâs mind was filled with thoughts of tearing apart the unknown intruder, this grave robber, in the most painful way possible.
The corridor leading to the burial room was a sight familiar to Eugene. Years ago, he, too, had traversed that same hallway. He had seen his own corpse, clad in dark armor, sitting in front of the firmly closed door.
Naturally, there was no Death Knight in Siennaâs memory. The door wasnât closed either, but rather wide open.
Siennaâs stride halted in the corridor. Eugene held his breath as he watched her memory play out. Anise covered her mouth with her hands, and Sienna closed her eyes, not wanting to see her memory play out once more.
A man, cloaked in a dark robe, stood in the room.
The coffin was already open, and hovering above it was a sword hilt without a blade, enveloped in light. A dull gray hue shrouded the sword hilt, making it appear as though it floated amidst a full moon.
ââ¦Vermouth?â Sienna called out incredulously.
There was no way Sienna could mistake that light. Even so, her trembling voice carried strong disbelief.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
Vermouth had died years ago. Although it had seemed impossible, Vermouth, who seemed less bound by mortality than anyone else, had died sooner than any of his surviving comrades.
âVermouthâ¦. Is that you, Vermouth?â Sienna stuttered as she staggered forward towards the man. The man turned his gaze away from the sword floating above the coffin, revealing golden eyes that shimmered under his hood. His eyes were reminiscent of a lion.
The vision shook violently. Siennaâs gaze descended beneath Vermouth.
She saw a sagging body. It was Hamelâs corpse. Although decades had passed, it showed no signs of decay due to being magically preserved. Vermouth held Hamelâs corpse in his arms.
âWhat are you doing over there?â asked Sienna.
Confusion outweighed her hostility. However, Vermouth remained silent. He raised his hands slightly, and Hamelâs corpse began to rise into the air. Sienna squinted her eyes as she anticipated his next move.
Hamelâs body was flung toward her, or rather, shot toward her. The thought of evasion never crossed Siennaâs mind. Instead, she quickly unfurled a spell in an attempt to halt Hamelâs body and keep it unscathed mid-air.
However, Vermouthâs magic, which Sienna had found strange since their journey through the Devildom, prevented Hamelâs body from stopping mid-flight. As the body rapidly approached, Sienna reflexively stretched out her arms to catch Hamelâs body.
âKeugh!â
The moment she made contact with the body, the force propelling it was fully transferred to Sienna. The corpse remained undamaged, but Sienna was thrown backward by the impact.
Even as she was sent flying to the end of the corridor, Siennaâs eyes remained fixated on Hamelâs corpse. The body lay collapsed on the ground, and beyond it loomed the golden eyes of a beast.
âVermouth!â Sienna yelled, filled with immense rage.
Vermouth had thrown Hamelâs corpse as a weapon. Vermouth had thrown Hamelâs corpse?
Though she still could not understand, Vermouth did not seek Siennaâs understanding. Without saying a single word, he glared at Sienna with his cold, golden eyes.
Vermouth disappeared from Siennaâs sight. Without hesitation, she activated the Eternal Hole. A giant storm of mana materialized in front of her.
But she could not fight here. After making that decision, Sienna escaped from the corridor. She intended to leave the tomb, but Vermouth did not allow her to. After disappearing from her sight, Vermouth was already standing with his back against the statue and the memorial stone.
âWhy are youâ¦!?â
Decades ago, all of them had shed tears in front of that very statue. Vermouth himself had inscribed the names on the memorial stone.
Vermouth had seldom shown his emotions during their journey. To Siennaâs knowledge, the first tears he shed throughout their decade-long journey had been when Hamel died.
After becoming the head of the Lionheart family, Vermouth acted as if he had severed ties with his companions.
Sienna believed she had no right to resent his choice. They had failed in keeping Hamelâs legacy and everyoneâs wish. They had failed in killing the Demon Kings.
They had failed. They lacked power. Sienna had been fine with that. She didnât want to live in a world without Hamel, so she thought dying in the castle of the Demon King of Incarceration, like Hamel, would be an acceptable death.
But she did not die. By the time she regained her senses, everything had been over. Without consulting anyone, Vermouth had made an Oath with the Demon King of Incarceration on his own. In that way, he saved his comrades, retrieved Hamelâs corpse and soul, and restored peace to the world.
It wasnât as if she didnât understand Vermouthâs heart. Howeverâ¦. However, only Hamel had died among their party of five. Her emotions were discordant with her heart. As such, Sienna resented Vermouth for a while. She just wanted someone to blame, and Vermouth was a perfect candidate.
Then everyone got busy living their own lives. It was a selfish excuse. No matter how busy everyone was, she could have always visited if she wanted to. But she did not want to face her trauma, and she did not want her sad, angry memories to resurface.
She regretted her choice many times.
When Sienna heard that Vermouth had died suddenly, she had sobbed in the room where she had gotten the news, in Vermouthâs family home, in front of Vermouthâs coffin, and at his tomb in the Black Lion Castle.
She had thought they had all the time in the world. If they wanted, they could indefinitely extend their lifespan. So, someday, when they could no longer make excuses and were ready to face the Demon King once moreâ¦.
She thought they would get together again.
âI cried at your death,â Sienna shouted at Vermouth.
She was bombarded with attacks from all sides. The numerous spells she cast offset Vermouthâs attacks and chased after him. The whole tomb shook, and cracks began appearing in the walls.
âWhy? Why you! Why here of all placesâ¦!â
The walls and the ceiling were collapsing. Sienna desperately altered the trajectory of the attacks to prevent the memorial stone and the statue from being swept away. But Vermouth did not care. The attacks â both physical and magical â came at Sienna without any care for the surroundings.
He was serious.
Vermouth was attacking for real. The vision shook violently. Sienna could not track Vermouthâs movements properly.
Red splatters appeared at the edge of her vision. Eugene watched the video with bloodshot eyes.
Siennaâs sight was gradually dyed red. She coughed and spat blood onto the ground while looking down.
âPleaseâ¦.â
She barely managed to raise her head to look forward. Her robe was already torn. Ash-gray hair spilled out behind his hood like a lionâs mane. A white flame was seemingly burning around him, engulfing everything it touched and dyeing it in its color.
âSayâ¦. Say something, Vermouthâ¦!â Sienna beseech.
Vermouth raised his hand in response and pointed at Sienna.
She felt no killing intent from him. In fact, she could not sense any emotions in his eyes. However, the power gathering in his hand, though devoid of any hostility, presented Sienna with a sense of absolute death.
Sienna vomited blood while stretching both hands forward. The Eternal Hole released numerous spells according to Siennaâs will.
The flame collided with magic.
Sienna did not bother waiting for the outcome. Instead, she immediately flew towards the corridor. She knew it was impossible to defeat Vermouth, even if she used the Eternal Hole. At this rate, she would die at the hands of Vermouth without knowing the reason.
âHamel.â
She possessed a leaf of the World Tree she had brought from her homeland. As a family member of the elves, Sienna could use the leaf of the World Tree to teleport there at any time.
She would take Hamelâs body and take refuge in her homeland for now. Since killing Vermouth was impossible, this was the only option left for her.
Sienna returned to the corridor while spitting blood.
Booom!
She heard the world collapsing from behind her, but Sienna did not look back. She came to a stop in front of Hamelâs body as she panted for breath.
Thankfully, it was still whole and intact. Sienna felt sincerely relieved. She then took out and held the leaf of the World Tree, and as she bent down to lift Hamelâs bodyâ¦.
Splat!
It was when she had made contact with Hamelâs corpse with her hand. Her vision shook greatly, and her body was instantly stripped of its strength. She saw a hand soaked in blood with her trembling eyes.
It was Vermouthâs hand, and it had pierced through her chest.
âVer⦠mouth⦠â
Her gaze swung upwards. Vermouth, his arm still buried in her chest, lifted her frail form from the ground. From her vantage point, she could not catch sight of Vermouthâs face. It was hidden behind the wound that pierced her back and chest. Her body refused to respond, and she was terrified of seeing Vermouthâs expression.
A gentle tremor. Then, a hand reached for her, slowly, until it found her throat. With a sharp snap, the necklace she wore around her neck was ripped out.
âAhâ¦.â
Sienna attempted to form words, but her vision swayed once again before she could speak. Her limp form was hurled across the room, and she crashed onto the misshapen lid of the casket.
âKuah.â
With a strenuous effort, Sienna lifted her head, a stream of blood spilling from her lips. She saw Vermouth standing motionless with his blood-stained hand still extended.
His face remained indistinct. With his head bowed, Vermouth stared at the necklace he had wrested from Sienna. Hamel's corpse was strewn at Vermouth's feet. He did not spare a glance for his dying companion, whose heart he had pierced with his own hand.
Her vision, awash with crimson, was growing dim. She noticed Vermouth's shoulders trembling. His downcast gaze slowly rose, revealing a contorted expression and quivering eyes.
ââ¦..â
That was the last image Sienna saw of Vermouth.
Fwoosh.
The video dissipated into thin air.
âYou all know what happened afterward,â said Sienna.
Although it was healed, it felt as if the wound in her chest was fresh as she recalled the painful memory.
âI successfully teleported to the World Tree, but the injury remained. Then, I was ambushed by Raizakia,â explained Sienna.
âSir Vermouth,â Anise muttered in a daze as she pressed her hand against her head. The man she witnessed in Siennaâs memory was unmistakably Vermouth.
Eugene unclenched his fist while grinding his teeth in frustration. Blood dripped from his fist as a result of gripping it too harshly.
âItâs as you said,â Eugene broke the silence. âIt definitely was Vermouth. Yet, something felt off, as if it werenât him.â