Prosek's Hero (1)
A day, two days, three days passed...
But in the village, it was just me and the village chief.
That's sorted out now.
The demon army had launched a surprise attack on the territory, so it was practically impossible for regular troops to mount an immediate counterattack.
Evacuating the villagers to Prosek Castle, assembling an army, preparing supplies, planning the reclamation, and having soldiers march on foot—it would take at least four or five days.
If it were a cavalry force like Mongol horsemen, galloping non-stop day and night, they might arrive in a single day. But units like that aren't exactly common.
Even in our world, those Mongol riders were a kind of cheat code.
The silver lining amid the misfortune was that most of the villagers had escaped safely.
Once we'd rescued them, there was even less reason to rush.
With Bellygut and the wolf pack gone after them, they were sure to be fine.
Reshi had probably linked up with the villagers too.
That's what I'd tell myself for now.
Me? I'm not a territory resident—I'm a drifter.
They wouldn't hurry to save someone like me.
Anyway.
Right now, the village held only me and the chief.
In the meantime, the two of us had accomplished a lot, shared many stories, and—embarrassingly—made love more than once.
In an apocalyptic tragedy like this, when it's just a man and a woman left... well, it's inevitable... or something.
No, that's not it.
The chief...
Or should I call her Agnes now?
Anyway, the day after Agnes woke up from a long cry, as I was wiping her tears, our lips brushed by accident.
I don't know who initiated it.
We've compromised: we both did.
Still, I never imagined she'd undress herself right there.
What was I supposed to do at that point?
Gentlemanly consideration to avoid embarrassing her? Yeah, that didn't even cross my mind.
After all the killing and near-death, I'd frayed somewhere inside. I couldn't hold back my urges like usual.
She probably felt the same.
Agnes couldn't get out of bed all day that day.
Midway, I got worried she might've died and leaned in to check her breathing at her lips—then she kissed my cheek. I startled but ended up laughing.
That's when I first realized you can't judge all women by Ferio's standards.
...I'd unwittingly trained myself in some weird ways.
Agnes was an incredible bundle of shyness then, terrible at enduring pain, so I took it slower and gentler.
Everyone has their own way of conversing with their bodies.
You have to adjust to each other for this stuff.
"By the way, Chief."
"I told you not to call me that anymore."
Agnes, piggybacked on my back, smacked my back playfully.
She'd claimed today she couldn't walk, so I was carrying her. But she'd walked fine putting on clothes at home, right?
Hmm...
Anyway, I was teasing her on purpose.
Every time we passed a corpse or grave, her face would stiffen.
Her reactions like this put my mind at ease.
"Did you give up on the academy presentation?"
"Now even your formal speech grates on me.
It feels so distant..."
She kept saying odd things.
Now it was my turn to strike back.
With her legs draped over my armpits from being carried, I pinched her right inner thigh lightly.
"Eek!!
Fine, fine! I get it!"
I'd learned recently: Agnes hates pain.
To me, she seemed the type who'd faint at the sight of a needle.
"I sent the carriage and presentation script straight to the academy.
Told them to give it to the one-eared wench.
Teasing that lop-eared girl was the point from the start."
Sounded like this "lop-ear" was a rival they mutually respected.
Otherwise, she wouldn't send off a painstakingly written script without hesitation.
"You're miles away on foot, yet she figured it out so fast and rushed here."
"Beacon fires lit up one after another from Prosek Castle at night.
So I knew right away something had happened in my village."
They had a system where watchtowers relayed invasion news with sequential beacon fires to spread word far and wide.
"I used the teleport point I'd set up in the village.
Couldn't bring anyone else, so Ferio probably rode straight for the territory."
Agnes had thrown honor and all her efforts aside to race here.
Damn, suddenly I wanted to hug her.
But she was on my back, so I held off.
Come to think of it, Ferio must be worried sick too...
What to do?
"Ahem, Kirgil.
You're thinking of someone else right now, aren't you?"
Agnes pressed flush against my back.
Her soft chest touched me—was that on purpose?
The chief was sly as ever.
"Kirgil, sometimes you carry too much responsibility from that other world. It worries me.
Adventuring means meeting new people constantly.
You'll share emotions with others besides this Agnes sometimes.
Sad experiences like this won't be common, but they could happen again.
You can't assume this Agnes will always be by your side then."
She meant I should think more openly, prepare for new wounds.
Yeah.
She'd endured her own traumas before coming here.
Her words made sense.
But I still got tripped up by this world's views on men and women.
Honestly, I was a bit scared to face Ferio now.
Wondering if this was okay with Agnes.
Well, decades from another world wouldn't change overnight.
I'd have to try.
But trying to become a playboy felt off—repellent, really.
And even if I did, Agnes was fine with it?
"This Agnes just wants to be the tavern for one adventurer.
No matter where you are, when things get truly hard and weary, think of this Agnes.
When the pain's unbearable, come anytime."
Agnes Village? Or the chief herself?
Both, probably.
"...And others besides you will meet many people too, changing and growing.
Ferio, Reshi, even this Agnes.
So don't cling too tightly."
True, not everything revolved around me.
They had their own lives and choices without me.
Just look at Ferio.
She'd choose family over a rootless uncle like me.
"......"
Thinking that way, it stung a bit.
I couldn't help feeling regret.
"Still, this Agnes will wait unchanging
for the day you return."
Were there warmer, more reassuring words?
I'd repay that feeling.
"True. There's no other ancient translator hack like me in this world...
Ow ow ow! Hitting again?!"
Agnes smacked my neck from behind as we arrived at the cemetery I'd made recently.
I visited once a day.
Partly to commemorate, but also to get used to death faster.
The first time Agnes came near, she wasn't just gloomy—she trembled in terror.
That's why I carried her.
Even here, she squeezed her eyes shut, too scared to check names.
She really was a scaredy-cat.
She'd hate anyone dying.
But after pouring out emotions for a day or two, she could come with a brighter face now.
"Kirgil, thanks to you, this Agnes found courage.
Alone, I couldn't face these children's deaths.
Truly..."
I set her down by the graves, and she walked over, examining each one.
"If you'd died too, this Agnes might've resolved to become the world's calamity."
"Feels like I'm getting all the favoritism."
"I do favor you."
Hmm, salting wounds in this solemn place...
"That doesn't mean I'll neglect these children.
They're all precious, but this Agnes needs someone to lean on to keep that heart."
...Right. Agnes wasn't the type to joke lightly anywhere.
For a moment, I felt bad for misunderstanding.
She'd shown weakness these past days, but she'd been like a mother to the village all along.
Still was.
"This Agnes isn't perfect.
I just want you to know that much.
The reason I can muster this courage..."
She came to these graves daily to steel herself.
I did too, honestly.
I'd come to this world thinking vaguely of adventuring.
Even some impulsive, sleazy harem nonsense.
Now it was different.
I wanted to change this world.
Maybe that's why I was brought here.
Kras's name lay before me now.
A guy who'd finally resolved to change, only to end like this in a heartbeat.
'A world without chances for young people is fundamentally broken.'
I wanted to fix that.
It was vague, sure.
But standing here stirred the urge to do something.
To head out wider.
"Is there a prayer for the dead here too?"
"It varies by person, by god."
Agnes paused, thinking.
"Something nagged at me, but your words cleared it.
When the families return, I'll ask—and engrave that prayer on the stones."
She took my hand.
"Thank you, Kirgil. Now my heart eases. Now I can do something for those leaving.
This timid Agnes was so unprepared for death."
Agnes was a scaredy-cat, sure.
But she was the finest chief I knew.