Just a Passing Hero
Remember this: I'm just a passing hero. The stars floating in the night sky shone with truly breathtaking beauty. No matter what chaos engulfed this world. Even if every living being on this continent vanished.
Those stars would remain, twinkling eternally in the heavens. On a cosmic scale, life is but a fleeting instant. You toil your whole life, only to die pointlessly in a traffic accident. Human life deserves respect, and every soul holds its own value. Weighing and judging them is a selfish act. It varies by situation, of course... but I can't stand people trash-talking others' lives when they barely know them.
Everyone struggles in their own way, big or small. Even those who give up challenging themselves and settle for the status quo must exert effort just to hold their ground. And there are lives that crumble irreparably after total failure, leaving only regret. The world isn't fair like that. This world especially so—innate abilities and race determine so much.
Yet, ironically, it was better than my original world. There was consideration and respect between people. Kindness toward others, a drive to protect the weak. I'd only seen the Trust Union, though; beyond that might lurk the ugliness of my old world. Slavery and such existed there too.
"You can run away if you want. I may have bestowed this mission upon you, but it's merely a 'request.' I brought your dead self here, and it's true you bear a strong fate and the qualifications of a hero... but please, Hero, don't push yourself too hard."
The goddess blocked my path as I charged unhesitatingly toward the castle. Yeah, honestly, I'm weak. A surprise attack would kill me. But I had this baseless confidence that I'd beat the Succubus Lord. Maybe best described as an intuition I couldn't ignore.
I'd drawn my sword and steeled my resolve to go.
"The Succubus Lord is an evil god that defies providence and reason. A terrifying being that might corrupt and shatter even your soul."
The goddess, still brimming with worry, seemed anxious—plagued by guilt at the thought of me meeting a gruesome end. She always wanted me to grow as safely as possible. No need to rush; enter the academy, take it slow—time was plentiful. If I was scared, I didn't have to fight the Demon King—just contribute to racial progress. Either way, as long as I helped the world, she'd be grateful.
That was all she ever said. No demands, just endless concern from her vast heart. If gods exist, and one cared for humans like this... yeah, that'd be it. No desire to philosophize about divinity here. If they truly existed in this world, that sufficed.
Beings who could only watch without direct interference. Granting power and blessings, sending oracles. That alone was enough. The mere existence of gods made people uphold good and morality. The pillar of kindness upheld by the thought that the goddess was watching.
Think of others, show consideration and aid, and divine blessings descend. For those who don't... well, divine punishment awaits. ...Of course, unable to interfere, the latter comes postmortem. They didn't intervene even when a fellow god was slain by mortals. What must the sea god have felt dying to elves? What emotions gripped them as one race's selfishness and arrogance doomed others to extinction?
"What does a hero mean to you, Goddess?"
I'm a pretty luxurious hero. Elsewhere, they get dumped in, slay the Demon King, and get sent home. Kings provide no support, just gear and a shove out the door. Worst case, betrayed by comrades. Or slay the king, return as a hero, only to be discarded as a monster.
...I didn't think that'd happen to me. Not yet. No way home anyway, nor any desire for it. With the goddess always watching, worrying over me—that alone sparked the courage and mental strength to keep going anytime.
"A hero is the symbol of hope."
To the goddess, a hero was a grand symbol. Turning the impossible possible, shattering despair to deliver hope. A bulwark shielding the weak, an object of awe to the strong. The one who led the way down paths others shunned.
The legends of past heroes proved it—they'd achieved much. The hero who built this nation, the one who united and saved races. The one who invented technologies for survival—and finally, the one who defended the continent they lived on.
She'd asked me to defeat the Demon King, but it was just a request. She hoped I'd protect the world by doing what I wanted. Help others and get called a sucker. Give charity and face entitled demands. Live kindly, get accused of faking it. Step up bravely, get dragged down for showing off. Those who live for others mocked as wasted lives.
In a world where human goodness twists into calculated altruism laced with jealousy and loss... regrettably, I believe a hero is someone who lives that way. Of course, if forced, I'd decline. If someone needs help, I extend a hand. If I see something, I don't look away. If I can, I do what I can. Probably no hero with a vessel as small as mine.
"Then all the more reason to go."
If that's the hero the goddess desires...
"After all, I'm a hero, right?"
Questioning if I can win or if it's impossible disqualifies you as a hero. Heroes always face the unreasonable first. At least buy time for others. I slowly entered through the crumbling castle gates. Succubus corpses littered the roadside, remnants of a prior battle. Beautiful nude female forms displayed like sculptures. Mingled among them were humans. Those who couldn't escape—what had the succubi done to them?
Men shriveled into mummies. Women dead with twisted grins, eyes bulging, tears streaming. I silently thanked the constellation that granted Weapon Mastery. And drew the spirit sword from my waist.
This space was under the Succubus Lord's influence. A scorching heat stirred deep in my body—an unprecedented lustful impulse, like a fever, dizzied my head. Skin burned, breath grew ragged. This must be the affliction of carnal desire. Just entering her domain affected me this much. And my pheromones seemed amplified too.
Hiding succubi emerged nude, approaching. Like mosquitoes spotting bare skin, they spread wings and charged beast-like.
Clear Mind resists "Charm".
Affliction boosts spirit sword's stats.
A fierce light burst from the spirit sword's pure white blade. Once heavy as a club, it now felt light as a twig. Their inner voices echoed from all directions. Mantra activated unconsciously.
Recycle — Arm transformed into elastic rubber.
Using Hands Collector's mimicry, I swung in a single sweeping strike. My elongating arm snaked around, slashing everything in a circle. As it coiled back, I twisted my body for a reverse swing. Succubi fell like felled rice stalks.
Some leaped to the ceiling, but rocks hurled at their heads triggered primary explosions, followed by secondary blasts. While dazed, I tossed the spirit sword. It pierced a succubus, fell, and returned to my hand upon hitting the ground.
Astonished by my prowess, succubi surrounded me, chanting spells. They bared hostility, but upon entering range, their eyes glazed, staggering drunkenly. Some even stripped and charged. Stronger-willed ones tried attacking but were hindered by kin.
Constellation-granted skills weren't weak. Rank-up amplified them further. In this domain, rising lust supercharged the spirit sword beyond imagination. Wielding it granted swordsmanship blessings; combined with Weapon Mastery, I unleashed flashy techniques, swept by unconscious will surpassing my own. The blade danced with agility that tricked me into thinking it moved on its own, reacting to killing intent.
Slicing incoming spells. Beheading ambushing shadows from darkness without looking. Amid the charging road, the hero performed a sword dance. White radiance pulsed along the blade like a heartbeat. Swinging it unleashed a light slash that bisected airborne succubi.
"Hoo—"
Light steps. Po'runga's run—no, stronger. Hands Collector's cat-like grace. With full-body release, I shot forward like a phantom, severing necks before succubi could react. Overwhelming power, boundless omnipotence... and the accompanying emptiness that it'd all fade when done. A bitter smile at how favorable matchups shone. Here, even Hands Collector might fall.
Reaching the castle amid stray thoughts, the gates lay broken—adventurers had breached. Nearby, their corpses littered, succubi victims. I gently closed their eyes, scanning slowly. Not much time passed, but blood hadn't fully dried. Ironically, the adventurers fought the kingdom's knights here.
Heightened stats let me hear fierce clashes. Deeper in, the scene shifted: knights and adventurers battling, not succubi. Masters with mana-wreathed blades overwhelmed adventurers. Bursting through shattered doors, I charged them.
Unknown entity at their backs, they panicked and attacked. I parried, bypassed adventurers, and battered knights with Metal Mimic-coated limbs, neutralizing via shock, pressing on. In the chaotic melee of adventurers and knights, I soared to the most perilous spot.
Somersaulting to the frontlines, I dove at the presumed knight captain, a Master. "Fall back!" The leader clashing with him signaled; adventurers retreated. They'd discerned I wasn't charmed. Free-floating skyward, the captain—not the front adventurer—tilted his head toward me. Veins bulged around bloodshot eyes, foam at his foaming mouth. Eyes drowned in black madness, fully succumbing to enchantment.
"Can't reverse it! Don't hold back!" a priest shouted.
──I'd neutralized on purpose, but pointless? Silently praying inward. His sword arm swung at me. Despite lost reason, even this novice—fresh from Weapon Mastery—recognized the Master's sword aura as a priceless fruit of endless time.
But the sword dropped; his hand gripped mine. U☆nion handshake—undetectable on first contact. In that oblivious instant, the spirit sword beheaded him.
...Constellation skills were on another level. Absurdly so. Adventurers watched in awe as I stood there...
"Who are you?"
"...Just a passing hero."
Like the goddess-cheered hero she rooted for. Limited time only... sigh.