Blue Lord of the Salacia Sea
"Can't eat together, huh."
"I agree every time."
Bartholomew Kidd stepped outside for his indispensable post-meal smoke break. Lemon Hyacinth, who had followed and sat beside him, was sucking on a lollipop instead—cigarettes were bad for the body, after all.
"Hey, if you're a man, you gotta smoke 'em stylishly and all that."
"An adventurer's body is their asset... Big bro's a Daynos, so even if you lose a lung, it regenerates, right?"
"Eh? Oh yeah. It doesn't grow back, huh."
Was he bragging about his race's regeneration? Hyacinth brushed off his coat sleeve and crunched down on the stick candy. It was a snack Radamu had made for him using fruit harvested from his room and the surplus sugar.
Every time he saw Radamu casually whipping up something like this despite his unassuming looks, Hyacinth was amazed anew. Hell, he hadn't even realized their party leader was a Hero until recently.
He still couldn't quite believe he was in a Hero's party. Imagining himself growing strong enough to match a Hero, earning fame, leading his own crew someday—and having them trail behind him as he strode forward with his coat billowing dramatically—made his lips curl up involuntarily. He'd end up grinning like an idiot, chuckling to himself with a dopey expression.
But reality was harsh.
He'd thought his growth came from his innate superior physical abilities as an upper race and his own hard work. Yet with just one skill from Hero Radamu, 10-year-old Leona had shot up to one of the top three strongest in the party.
If he was climbing stairs step by step, Leona was warping straight to the top, skipping everything.
'Big bro Radamu said he'd give us skills from the constellations if we get stronger...'
In fact, big sis Larirarion had discovered an absurd skill any dwarf would kill for. Not probabilistic—guaranteed rare ore, plus a full quality upgrade on crafted items? It was truly godlike.
Hyacinth was certain Radamu would stick by him with brotherly magnanimity, leader's charisma, and a Hero's boundless tolerance until he could stand shoulder-to-shoulder, even if he was a worthless mutt crawling on the floor.
But he couldn't let that happen. Wasn't becoming a cool guy his dream?
Whether it was the Demon God or a giant knight, the Hero charged ahead without fearing death to save lives—and how many times had he hesitated, mumbling excuses instead of following?
He hated his timid self, always peeking at others' reactions with a "Is it okay?" He felt small.
This journey was chosen to build experience together. He swam in the sea during downtime to build stamina, sparred with Kidd to hone his skills—but he still couldn't see the outline of true strength.
Give up, and he'd plummet further; lose self-esteem, and he'd spiral endlessly into ruin.
A man's pride!
'...Honestly, though, I'm not that jealous... Getting skills from gods...'
He'd broken into a cold sweat hearing about near-misses like skills that'd make you explode on use. Not just good gods—there were horrifically evil ones too.
Skills that summoned disasters on injury, which triggered more disasters in a vicious cycle—essentially curses he had no choice but to bear. Hearing that, he respected the Hero even more: That's why he's a Hero—not faltering, fighting without fearing pain.
No, he'd always admired him—now it bordered on awe. The ultimate big bro.
Even if not the strongest in the party, pulling out bursts of power by overtaxing his body... That unyielding spirit, fighting through wounds and ruin, was enviable.
Ubreakable heart, iron will. You couldn't learn that.
'Meeting big bro in my first party probably used up all my lifetime luck...'
Nah, it was clan-legend level. A Hero's party at his level? Unreal.
'No matter the gap, don't despair, Lemon. Chase to the end.'
If lacking, fill it with grit, tenacity, bulldog stubbornness.
Radamu trusted him as the party's sole long-range support.
Even against the Hands Collector, he'd cut his own hair for bullets, baited the enemy himself. Hyacinth had been nervous about hitting the shot against such a foe—but he'd nailed it. Still gave him chills thinking back.
'If I can't get stronger, hone what I'm good at.'
Big sis Larirarion made great ammo; while Radamu held the front, he'd support from behind. Fast feet meant he could evade if targeted without hindering.
Steeling himself like that, thinking of deck target practice—Kidd, quietly smoking, glanced at him, then at the women swarming Radamu, and spoke up, something nagging at him.
"It's the face after all, for a man..."
"Nah, nah—it's magnanimity and caliber. The vessel's size is different. From you, Kidd bro?"
"Sighhh... No, I just don't touch women 'cause I've got ambitions to be Pirate King."
"A guy confessed to you, though."
"I'll kill you!!"
Kidd grabbed his collar, shaking him violently, threatening not to tell a soul. But when Hyacinth shot back, "I confessed too," Kidd just slung an arm around him with a kindly smile, handing over some mystery drink.
"Anyway, the sea's looking rough. Never done naval combat—hope it'll be fine."
"It'll be okay, right?"
Kept secret publicly, but Hyacinth knew: the terrifying truth that Great Witch Circe was aboard. Spill it, and the Pirate King'd come knocking—Hyacinth'd sooner take a knife to the throat.
Kidd always yapped about never seeing wearbeasts, wanting to touch her hair—talking what sea witch Circe was like made his chest itch, but Riko had warned: "Tell, and she'll show you a witch's curse?"
Didn't know what that was, but seeing her crush a watermelon with those thick thighs? Definitely fatal.
"Empire or Holy Eagle Kingdom aside, elves are the scariest, bro. First two you rarely run into—but the last? Meet 'em, you're dead."
"Hey, land's got normal elves, right? Rumor says Great Forest ones leave your soul unrested? Ooh, scary. At sea, forget typhoons or Pirate King—watch for elves."
Meet 'em, and you'd die without a fight? Their infamy reached the plains. Never dreamed they'd encounter real Great Forest elves, not Trust Union ones.
"Hell has demons; land has elves," they said. Steal their stuff, and they massacre the island? Insane mindset—like they owned the world.
Made sense why Great Forest was withering, elf numbers dropping now.
"Y'know, elves can breed with other races like humans. Why not multiply like that?"
"Huh? Think it causes elf diseases or somethin'... Dunno."
Not an elf scholar—whatever, just don't run into 'em. Hyacinth gulped his drink.
Then, far from the island, a verdant green streak rode the wind. First sight, he'd wonder what—but he'd seen it before. Hyacinth freaked, drawing his gun.
"Wind spirit!! Heading for the island!!"
"What?! Shoot already! Damn, looks like normal wind to anyone."
Different color, but just wind. Hyacinth and Kidd yelled at villagers to stay in—no use—screamed "Monster's invading!" and bolted for the village.
Full sprint, no thought to aftermath—but too late. Mere seconds, yet horrors: people flayed alive to dust. Kidd's eyes rolled back in rage.
"You fucking beast!!"
He hurled his harpoon; spirit leaped aside, flapping wings to fling wind blades.
Crackle— Hyacinth gripped his pistol-sword reverse like a shortsword, channeling mana into the blade. Blue static sparked; he slashed, unleashing jagged lightning in erratic arcs that clashed with the wind.
Boom! Explosion, sparks flying everywhere.
"Hoo—"
Circulating mana, crouching—Hyacinth's thighs bulged massively. One deep breath, then kicking off, his shortsword flew at bullet speed, carving deep into the spirit's thigh.
Chunk severed, leg split—but elemental spirit. Air gathered, wound healed instantly. It wailed in pain, swiping front paw to bat Hyacinth away.
Simultaneously, rope coiled around the spirit—but dispersed formlessly, falling limp.
Yet Kidd yanked the rope, recovering his harpoon mid-leap, swinging wide to cleave the spirit's head.
Crack— Griffin head split—but from the stump, pressurized air bullet shot out. Kidd blocked with tail in midair, but even headless, the rampaging spirit's wing tore his gut.
"Fuck...!!"
"Kidd bro!"
"How'd you one-shot this crazy fuck?!"
Normal creatures die headless! But spirits revive endlessly with elements around. Stalemate, clueless how to fight.
Surviving villagers dragged wounded back, armed ones shot—but bullets passed harmlessly.
"Damn, wish the others were here."
"Flare signal—hold with grit! Tough it out!"
"Gut's ripped! Daynos or I'd be dead!"
Kidd clutched his belly, gasping; Hyacinth crossed swords reverse-grip, glaring. Loading flare, aiming skyward—light burst.
Flash— Kidd yelled, "What flare's that loud?!" But no—this wasn't it.
How radiant—the spirit even looked up. Aurora-like light blanketed the blue sky in splendor; Hyacinth forgot the trigger, entranced.
Thud!
Goddess descended from heavens. Snow-white hair with red aura—perky rabbit ears. Ruby eyes sparkled like gems.
Ethereal pink dress like from another world, massive ribbon on back, strings drifting down slowly. Hot pink lace frills everywhere, ruffled sleeves ending in more frills. Fit for fairy-tale princesses.
Yet it suited her fragile beauty—long lashes tinged red, porcelain-smooth pale skin. All forgot the crisis, awestruck by the heavenly nymph.
In her hand: massive jet-black magic sword, forged from congealed human blood? Too huge and thick for her slender frame.
Yet one-armed, she swung lightly, ribbon fluttering. Gracefully soaring, arcing to sever the wind spirit's neck.
The "immortal" faded powerlessly into wind.
Villagers gawked, wondering if dreaming. One recognized her, shouting despite blood pouring from his gut, eyes sparkling.
"The Hero who appeared in Default Kingdom...! Real! Goddess-beautiful, true!"
Bartholomew, mouth agape like treasure-struck pirate—despite "can't move from pain"—sprang up on both legs, dead serious.
"Totally smitten!"
Hyacinth frowned, smacking his forehead.
The Hero, receiving Bartholomew Kidd's second confession, pondered with an indescribable expression for seconds, broke cold sweat, waved sweetly with a smile, and ascended back to the sky.
"...Real goddess..!"
"No, uh... not... sighhh... yeah... yes... uh-huh..."
Hyacinth's face crumpled, brows furrowed. For a man's pride, he swore silence.