The Hero's Departure
Lugbelk Kingdom bordered the Demon Realm more closely than any other nation, and its military strength surpassed all others as a result. Yet even that overwhelming might was barely enough to fend off the neighboring kingdoms' probes while simultaneously dealing with the endless waves of magic beasts pouring from the Demon Realm. It was a war of attrition with no end in sight. In response, the kingdom had no choice but to take bold measures: recruiting soldiers dedicated solely to toppling the Demon King, and even more ambitiously, seeking out true heroes loyal to the realm.
From countless brave and capable candidates, only one man was chosen as a hero—and he alone could replace an entire battalion. Astonishingly enough, he had the power to back it up: a one-man army capable of taking on a thousand foes. Clad in state-provided armor, he hefted a spear that looked at least two meters long, dwarfing even his own tall frame. As he finished his preparations, several soldiers approached Verilrude Anemos.
"It's an honor to meet you, Hero."
Having grown accustomed to such encounters since becoming the kingdom's official hero, Verilrude responded smoothly. "The honor is mine."
"Are you from nobility, Hero?"
"No."
His refined, aristocratic tone sparked curiosity among the soldiers, who drew closer with more questions. Seeing a chance to boost morale before departure, Verilrude smiled warmly and indulged them.
"Then how did you come to speak like someone of high station?"
"...Hmm. I learned it from the one I love."
The hero chuckled softly, his now-familiar noble cadence easing their curiosity. The soldiers let out impressed "oohs."
"They say this Demon King is fiercer than ever—what do you think, Hero?"
One comment pierced his ears like an arrow. He turned to see a young man who looked even younger than himself, hesitating before speaking.
"What do I think? What do you think?"
"M-Me? It's terrifying, of course."
"Then why did you enlist?"
"My mother's back home..."
Verilrude nodded with a gentle smile at the youth's earnest reply. Those who joined for others carried a clear sense of duty and purpose. He admired such men; gathered together, they could overcome any hardship eventually. He clapped the young soldier on the shoulder, offering encouragement drawn from his own path—not empty words.
"Indeed. Fighting for someone is vital. That's how I became a hero."
The youth's face lit with newfound resolve.
"Now, let's march."
Time to move. They couldn't waste it chattering forever. Knowing people were dying to magic beasts even now filled him with unease. The Demon King—the root of all evil, the villain behind every misfortune. People couldn't sleep soundly because of the Demon King's wicked deeds. Magic beasts born in the black soil ravaged crops and tore farmers limb from limb. As a hero—and to solidify his beloved noble lady's position—he stepped forward. The spear in his hand would return if thrown. The sword on his back cleaved the air itself. Leading the soldiers tasked with holding back the beasts, he advanced into the black land.
*
"Atchoo!"
This frail body sneezed out of nowhere. Ugh, it was so delicate and tiny—zero merits whatsoever. Where the hell did a Demon King even come from? Pondering that led to the simple conclusion: not raw strength, but some special power inherent to Lobelia Yuris herself.
As I rubbed my nose with a groan, Kudbeka, standing guard beside me, turned.
"My lady, are you unwell?"
"No... I just thought I heard someone talking about me."
He was my servant, but I didn't want to burden or worry him, so I brushed it off. Demon Kings got cursed everywhere anyway—no big deal. But Kudbeka bristled at my words, shooting to his feet in outrage.
"This must be human work! We should unleash Sirius and wipe them out...!"
Whoa? I knew his loyalty ran deep, but this was overwhelming.
"C-Calm down. You're scaring me when you get mad."
"Ahem. My apologies, my lady."
"It's fine."
I soothed him roughly and slipped back to my room. As I stared at the door, Kudbeka opened it for me. It creaked open to reveal a dark chamber, proving night had fallen.
"It's dark."
No fluorescent lights here, obviously. I'd need candles or to light the high chandelier. Lighting the chandelier seemed like a hassle, so candles it was. As I scanned around, Kudbeka snapped his fingers. Flames bloomed—whoosh—across the chandelier. So even that was magic. I watched, then cleared my throat and returned to the vanity, sitting before the mirror.
Facing my reflection felt alien. Glossy black hair, red eyes, two horns on my forehead—they all screamed "not me." I'd spent the whole day trying to adjust, but this appearance refused to feel natural. Nothing adapted. The food tasted off, using the bathroom was a chore. The heavy weight on my chest felt awkward, and I doubted what this small, fragile body could even do. In a life built on magic, my inability to cast any left me frustratingly dependent on Kudbeka. I needed to manage alone. He was my servant, but I'd never ordered anyone around—it just felt weird.
Staring at the mirror in turmoil, I noticed Kudbeka standing silently behind me. His massive presence announced itself even without looking. "Kudbeka? You can go now."
Stubborn servant that he was, he'd stay until dismissed. His loyalty would warm anyone, true master or not. But instead of leaving or even replying, he stood frozen. Curious, I glanced back to find him fidgeting awkwardly.
"Kudbeka?"
I twisted carefully to face him, and he looked torn about speaking.
"What is it?" I sighed, nodding permission. "You can say it."
Relieved, he bowed gratefully. "My lady." Leaning forward for my comfort, he hesitated before speaking. "I'm sorry to bring this when you seem troubled, but... the hero has set out from Lugbelk Kingdom."
...The hero? The one dedicated to slaying the Demon King? Wait—timing? I didn't even know how to use magic yet. Panicking, I forgot to respond, then cleared my throat as composure returned. Steadying my expression with deep breaths, I met his eyes.
"Set out?"
His face crumpled apologetically. "To topple you, my lady. What shall we do?"
He'd raged at mere gossip of me, but news of the hero made him grit his teeth. That powerful, huh. And I was too pathetic—I'd fall fast. My death memory was still fresh; dying again so soon was insane. Fighting someone this time? Why me? I hadn't sinned in my past life—why this trial? Waking as a Demon King, hated by the world, was unfair enough. Now death loomed immediate. I didn't want to die. But I didn't want to kill either. Absurd. Heroes and Demon Kings weren't compatible. No need to try. He was good; I was evil. I deserved exclusion. He wouldn't listen anyway.
With that thought, I turned cautiously to Kudbeka. "Kudbeka?"
"Yes, my lady."
"You mentioned magic beasts."
"Yes."
I stared. "What's Sirius?"
"A colossal magic beast. It only stirs at night, but... shall I?"
"...No."
I'd asked out of curiosity, but it reeked of massacre—I backed off.
"Got it. Go for now."
"Rest well, my lady."
The door clicked shut. I exhaled shakily and gazed out the window. Land I liked—or rather, Lobelia liked. Hearing the hero was charging here chilled me. He didn't seem imminent, but soon he'd storm in to kill me. How to process this? If I explained I was from Earth, South Korea, Gyeonggi Province—a construction worker who fell to his death—would he get it? Understanding felt impossible. Bitter regret filled my mouth, unearned. It wasn't my deed, my life. Yet I couldn't deny her crimes. The difference in our positions tormented me. Fate offered no choices before inevitable death. No dialogue possible—I clenched my fist on the sill. I don't want to die.
Suddenly, the room plunged dark. Kudbeka? Startled, I spun to the chandelier high above. Flames died, smoke curling into the moonlight. Well, bedtime anyway. I turned back to the black land bathed in glow. The mana-infused ancient trees were stunning. Was that why Lobelia loved them? I stared skyward long, trying to shake the anxiety. It clung like a condemned prisoner's dread of the noose.