Damn Reincarnation

Chapter 443: The Fake (8)

In Pentagon, the capital of Aroth, Melkith didn’t hesitate even for a moment before climbing to the highest rooftop upon reaching the famous floating station.

"Ah! Aaaaah!" Many tourists pointed and murmured at Melkith on the roof, but she paid no heed to their stares. Instead, she knelt and wailed in place after pulling back her hood, "Kaaaaah...."

Melkith was from the tiny kingdom of Allos in the northern sector of the Anti-Demon Alliance. It was a small kingdom less than half as large as Aroth. Though born and raised in Allos, she moved to Aroth after turning thirteen. A simple girl from a small village in a weak country had formed a contract with spirits by fate. With dreams of becoming an Archwizard of spirit magic, the girl ventured to Aroth with no money lining her pockets.

She had overcome numerous hardships with her spirits on her journey to Aroth. After arriving in the capital city, Pentagon, she was invited to the White Tower of Magic, earned the nickname ‘Princess of Spirits,’ and ultimately became an unparalleled Archwizard of spirit magic. Her tale was an epic too vast for mere days of storytelling of volumes of books.

In any case, Aroth was the stage for this long, epic tale, and it was indeed her second homeland. In fact, she had spent many more years of her life in Aroth and had left no ties in Allos. As such, Aroth could be called her true homeland now.

But unfortunately, she had been forced to leave her dear homeland and live in the desert for nearly a year. Each day, she had to dig tunnels like a mole to avoid sandstorms, and she could not find even a night of peaceful slumber due to the constant threat of assassins and black wizards.

[.....]

The Spirit Kings contracted to Melkith could not completely agree with her sentiment. Instead, they felt slightly hesitant. Although she complained of it being brutal and torturous, didn’t she live quite comfortably in reality? After all, the spirits took care of her and any inconveniences.

"It’s me! I have returned!" shouted Melkith while raising her arms high.

She was done reminiscing about the challenging life she led in the desert. Moreover, she didn’t need to hide herself any longer. She did not need to disguise herself with magic and cloaks as she had in the desert.

"I, Melkith El-Hayah, have returned to Aroth!" Melkith declared.

Though she received Eugene's permission to return to Aroth, Melkith couldn’t leave Nahama in the usual way after causing enormous chaos as an illegal resident.

Although it wasn’t publicly announced, Melkith El-Hayah was already considered one of the worst criminals in Nahama. The number of black wizards she had buried in the desert was already in the hundreds, not to mention the countless assassins and warriors who vanished without a trace after being dispatched to capture or kill her.

It was Balzac who helped her leave Nahama in her predicament.

He had an abundance of knowledge when it came to illegal activities, which wasn’t surprising considering how suspicious he was. Melkith crossed the desert with Balzac, crossed borders, passed through other countries, and thus returned to Aroth — together with Balzac.

"......." Balzac looked up at Melkith silently with an appalled expression.

He knew she was eccentric, but he hadn't expected her to cause a commotion immediately upon entering the country. Any normal person would've stayed quiet in Aroth, given what she had been up to, but....

Balzac had learned otherwise on his journey together with her. Melkith El-Hayah was completely devoid of common sense. Even now, she was continuing to flail her arms while wailing loudly.

"...Ahem." Balzac cleared his throat, trying to get her attention.

As much as he wanted to pretend to be strangers and leave, he could not. He had already achieved what he wanted during his seclusion, and now he needed to move on to the next phase of his plan.

...Quite unfortunately, Balzac needed Melkith to proceed.

[Melkith, please come down now.] Balzac mentally projected his non-verbal plea to Melkith.

The floating station was always crowded. It was truly remarkable how Melkith was able to immerse herself in her own world without caring for anyone else, even amidst the pointing and the whispering crowd.

Balzac could never do the same. Not only did he pull his robe's hood deep over his face, but he also cast several types of magic on himself. As a result, no one in the bustling station could spot him.

"Hmm."

After several more pleading requests from Balzac, Melkith finally descended from the rooftop. She greeted the surrounding crowd with a smile, waved her hand, accepted greetings, shook hands with young spirit wizards who admired her, and even cheered for the examinees heading to the magic tower's exams.

"....." Balzac waited patiently through all of this. He wanted to drag her out of there and cast a spell on the time-wasting citizens. He dearly wished to kick Melkith as she responded to every trivial conversation and stopped with every step, but he refrained with all his willpower.

"Really...," Balzac finally couldn’t take it and said in annoyance.

In the end, it took over an hour to board the air carriage leaving the floating station. After remaining silent throughout the process, Balzac voiced his thoughts as soon as he and Melkith boarded the carriage.

"You are really... something,” he commented.

"Eh? What is?" questioned Melkith.

"You really are something, Lady Melkith,” he repeated.

"I know I am great. I know it better than anyone else,” responded Melkith.

"Do you really take my words as pure compliments?" shot Balzac.

He was seething internally. When he saw Melkith’s seemingly innocent expression, it felt as if he would literally explode with anger.

"Why do you have to deal with every single person?" questioned Balzac.

"I don't usually,” Melkith responded.

"Then why today?" he inquired.

"Think about it, Balzac, I've returned to Aroth after almost a year. And look! People came to meet me,” she explained.

"What are you on about? That's complete nonsense. None of these people came to meet you. They were here for their own reasons," countered Balzac.

"Even if that may be the case, they gathered because of me after I arrived! It's as if they came to meet me. It’s no different, really. And they all like me, right? That’s why they gathered around me. It’s only natural I reciprocate their love,” said Melkith.

This was impossible. Rational conversation with this lunatic was not feasible at all. Balzac took a deep breath, then looked out the window to calm himself.

"Rather, I find you strange,” said Melkith.

"What about me is strange?" asked Balzac.

"That’s... a tough question. You are more abnormal than normal. There are more suspicious things about you than the ones that aren’t," continued Melkith.

"And what's strange now?" he asked.

"You've also returned to Aroth after a long time. Don't you feel anything?" questioned Melkith.

"Naturally, I do have feelings. But unlike you, Lady Melkith, I don't show off,” said Balzac in a quiet voice. He looked down at the city from the air carriage and murmured, "I do like this city. Though it might not like me."

“What’s with the sudden self-pity? Is this a new concept of yours?" Melkith muttered, forcing Balzac to clench his fists.

"...I'm only speaking the truth,” he said.

"Hmm, Balzac, I think I know what you're thinking. That... um, I'm not so foolish a woman to not be able to distinguish between sympathy and love," said Melkith after a moment.

"You’re about to speak more nonsense...," Balzac said in a voice that sounded like half a reminder and half a warning.

"Even if you pretend to be pitiful... well, you are genuinely pitiful, but, um, even if I sympathize with you, that doesn’t mean I can—" Melkith continued, ignoring this comment.

Before she could finish, Balzac interrupted her, "Stop talking nonsense, Lady Melkith. Really, why are you doing this to me?"

"Calm down,” she said.

Calm down, she says, after stirring him up. Balzac averted his gaze and looked out the window again. The Black Tower of Magic stood tall in the distance.

The Black Tower of Magic had housed many black wizards until a year ago. In fact, it had been home to the greatest number of black wizards, second only to Helmuth. But now, it was deserted. After Balzac’s sudden, unexpected seclusion, the black wizards left voluntarily after Sienna’s return. After all, Sienna’s hatred for black wizards was common knowledge.

The black wizards fled to Helmuth, Nahama, or the back alleys of Aroth.

"The promise,” Balzac spoke up. He turned to Melkith. "Don’t forget about it."

"What promise? Did we make a promise?" Melkith retorted.

"....." Balzac just looked at Melkith with narrowed eyes.

"It’s a joke, a joke. Don't glare at me like that. I'll make sure to introduce you to Lady Sienna," said Melkith with a giggle and a wag of her finger. "I'm really close with Lady Sienna, no, I mean Sister Sienna. We're like sisters. Even if you're a black wizard, she won't attack you if I'm by your side."

"I don't think Lady Sienna is the type to attack someone on the first encounter,” commented Balzac.

"Aren’t you expecting too much from Sister Sienna? I mean, between us strictly, she's not exactly the... “wise” person we expect her to be," Melkith whispered after lowering her voice.

He was somewhat surprised to hear such a thing from Melkith, of all people.

Balzac responded with a frown, “What I expect from you, Lady Melkith, is not to block Sister Sienna for me. The kindness and favor I have shown you, Lady Melkith, and Sir Eugene—”

"Okay, okay, I get it,” Melkith interrupted him. “So, Balzac, you're saying this: you want to be friends with Sister Sienna, right? You know, to me, this sounds like you’re saying you want to research magic with her like the other Archwizards, but then later, backstab her, like ‘Bam!’” shouted Melkith.

"Excuse me?" Balzac questioned.

"Do you think I don't know your plan? You’re trying to approach everyone with that smiling face, getting their guard down, and then, what’s it, your Signature? You’re planning to devour them one by one, aren’t you?" continued Melkith.

Balzac was taken aback by this sudden accusation.

How could one even begin to understand such a train of thought? Should he get angry at this baseless accusation? If he showed anger, would he be blamed for that too...? Balzac stopped pondering and sighed heavily.

"I would never do such a thing," he said.

"What’s the name of your Signature?" questioned Melkith.

"It’s Gluttony,” answered Balzac.

"So you’re going to turn off the lights with Blind! And then devour them with Gluttony! Isn’t that right?" accused Melkith.

"No, it’s not,” Balzac clenched his teeth and responded.

Meanwhile, the airship landed. Balzac said nothing more and pulled his hood over his head.

They were at the Royal Library, Akron.

As they stepped off the carriage, Balzac flinched and raised his head.

‘Dark power?’

Although it was hidden, being a black wizard, Balzac didn't miss the presence of dark power. He saw bats and rats hidden in the shadows of the trees around Akron.

While Balzac watched them, Melkith briskly walked and opened the door of Akron.

"I'm back!" Melkith entered Akron, shouting just as she had at the floating station. Balzac followed her inside while keeping an eye on the bats and rats, servants of a vampire.

They were on the first floor of Akron.

Usually, no wizard could use magic in Akron. Even an Archwizard would be bombarded with various spells from the tower if they dared to use magic within.

The system was first designed by the Wise Sienna. Over hundreds of years, the security spells were updated, but the core idea that specialized in killing wizards remained the same.

Balzac realized once again how strict the security at Akron was. He had barely taken a step inside, and in the blink of an eye, he was captured. He hadn't planned to resist, but he had been seized before he could even perceive it.

Balzac thought about how many spells had acted on him in that instant.

As soon as he passed through the open door, he was transported and now levitated in the center of the first floor. His limbs were held by magical chains, and dozens of magical blades were pointed at him.

There were also dozens of unseen, inactivated spells. If Balzac tried to resist and somehow managed to break free, other spells would immediately pursue him.

"....."

He wanted to say something, but even that freedom was denied. Opening his mouth would mean getting his cheek sliced. Balzac glanced at the blade touching his cheek and composed his expression.

How could he express his current emotions?

Balzac was grateful he couldn't speak. If he had the freedom to talk, he would have been busy worshiping and praising that wondrous, mystical, and beautiful Archwizard ? The Wise Sienna.

She was everything Balzac had imagined and more. If there were a goddess of magic, she would undoubtedly look like this. Even if she proclaimed herself a goddess of magic right now, Balzac would accept it without question.

That was how divine and beautiful the Wise Sienna was. She was surrounded by celestial rings as she descended from the ceiling. Her staff showered white frost, and her fluttering purple hair intertwined with mystical golden streams. Above all, what thrilled Balzac was her endlessly deep green eyes.

"Black wizard," Sienna said as she gazed at Balzac with round, blinking eyes. Unable to respond, Balzac swallowed hard while the other wizards appeared belatedly and descended.

"Not just any black wizard," Sienna continued.

Melkith finally snapped back to reality. She noticed that Balzac, who had been right behind her, was now bound in front of her. The aura emanating from Sienna as she floated before him was ominously intense.

Melkith gulped and hurriedly rushed to Balzac's side as she hastily said, "Sister Sienna!”

Perhaps, just perhaps....

Maybe, just maybe, there’s an off-chance I might be stronger than the 'Wise Sienna' at this moment. Although I can’t compare to her in terms of a wizard’s level, depth, and accomplishments, I might not fall short in terms of power....

Maybe, in this cruel and harsh world, a wizard's level, depth, and accomplishments weren’t as important as power.

Power is the only thing that can prove my worth. I respect Sienna Merdein as a person worthy of admiration. I know she's three hundred years old....

But in this era, in the upcoming turbulent times, a wizard's power is more important than being three hundred years old and a prophetess.

"Sienna!"

Thus, Melkith temporarily set aside the term 'sister.' In the cold world of ruthless competition, terms like sister and brother only soften each other. All the Archwizards who had descended to the first floor gaped at Melkith in astonishment.

"?"

Sienna was just as shocked. Her eyes went wide with disbelief as she stared at Melkith.

Melkith walked confidently amidst everyone's gazes. Her footsteps echoed in the silence.

"Could you be less harsh, please?" said Melkith with a chuckle. She pointed at Balzac. "He's my guest."

The most shocked among them was Balzac. He looked at Melkith with absolute disbelief. Their gazes met in mid-air, and Melkith winked at Balzac, signaling him not to worry.

"So, calm down and let him down gently,” Melkith said.

"....." Sienna didn’t respond.

"Hmm, my words seem to have startled you?" Melkith snorted and pointed outside. "Then come outside. Witness the power of Melkith El-Hayah’s Infinity Force...."

Whoosh!

Sienna's murderous intent enveloped Melkith. Her hair stood on end, and she started to tremble. She carefully sat down on the spot, saying, "It's just a joke, sister, just my little joke."

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