The Hero Who Ended the Story
Now that the story was over, the hero found that... Even now, the moment he closed his eyes, he remembered it all. The moments he had shared with his beloved family. The blazing days of laughter and chatter, of hardship and screaming — and still, through it all, rising back up to run again. Laughing together, crying together, pushing onward — and at the end of that road, he had become a hero. He had cut the throat of the black calamity and accomplished a feat that made the gods gasp and mortals sing his praises, and at the end of it all, he had brought peace to the world below — the peace every soul had yearned for. But what had actually waited for him at that ending was nothing but eternal loneliness. The voices singing his praises reached no ears but his own, and there was no one left to share his joy with. The comrades he had leaned on, the beloved goddess he had served, the heroes he had admired — all of them had passed on, and only he remained. He knew he shouldn't, but sometimes the thoughts crept in anyway. What if I had been a little stronger.What if there had been a better way.What if we'd had more time.What if — what if — what if — The what-ifs flooded his mind countless times a day. But a what-if was only ever a what-if, and reality had never offered him anything but bitter pain. Today was no different. Today, it was worse than ever. Today was Elegia — the day of remembrance for fallen heroes. Today, he would go and mourn his heroes.
...Or at least, that had been the plan...
"Intruder—!"
"Who the hell are you?!"
"Somebody get the boss—!"
"Surround him!"
How on earth did it come to this~? Ignoring the commotion around him, he slipped away into his own little world.
Where am I?
He distinctly remembered falling asleep a little earlier than usual the day before.
Tomorrow... or rather, today was Elegia, and there was nothing he needed to do alone anyway.
It wasn't that he couldn't sleep. Quite the opposite — for once, he had slept wonderfully. Probably the deepest rest he'd had in years.
Unless there was some sleepwalking episode he didn't know about, he should have woken up in his own bed. And yet...
Where is this?
He had definitely fallen asleep lying in bed — but when he woke, he found himself half-buried in rubble, the remains of what looked like a shack shattered by some tremendous impact, as if a meteor had fallen or a bomb had gone off.
As if that weren't shocking enough, the place was swarming with people.
He'd been quietly thinking he might finally be worthy of being called a seasoned adventurer — and then something like this happened. Did that mean he still had a long way to go?
Perhaps fate took offense to such frivolous thoughts, because before he knew it, the man who appeared to lead the group surrounding him shouted out.
"Who are you?! How did you find this place?!"
"Uh... well, you see?"
I'd love to know myself. So which is it — where am I?
The Dungeon... is it?
No matter how he turned it over, the atmosphere and the feel of the place kept insisting that this was the Dungeon.
But did that even make sense? He woke up and he was in the Dungeon? Unless he'd been kidnapped, that was impossible.
And yet somehow, his instincts were dead certain this was the Dungeon. And honestly, the place did look a little familiar.
This spot... it looks just like it.
It resembled the safe zone where they used to rest on the Middle Floors — a little tucked-away corner, the place Ryuu had shown him as her secret spot.
It sat right between the Upper and Middle Floors, so whenever they had business down below, they always came here~
...Hm? Wait. Then why were these people here? Did someone else discover it after he quit being an adventurer?
"Um... is this, by any chance, your hideout?"
"...And if it is?"
Thought so. Now it all made sense.
Naturally, they'd be this wary if their secret space had been exposed. An adventurer's greatest enemy was never monsters or the Dungeon — it was their fellow adventurers. They were probably worried he'd cause them trouble.
"I'm sorry. I didn't come here on purpose..."
"...And you expect me to believe that?"
Fair point. Nobody would believe that under normal circumstances.
But there was nothing to be done about it. He didn't know why he was here any more than they did.
Actually, he was getting a little annoyed. This place had been theirs, after all.
"I woke up here too, you know. I'm the one who'd like an explanation, honestly."
"...Fine. I get it."
Oh — so he was actually capable of reasonable conversation.
His face had looked a little rough... honestly, the man looked like a criminal, and he'd been slightly worried — but he seemed surprisingly normal—
"Which is exactly why I know you won't spill the truth willingly! Get him!"
"Ehh..."
Seriously? No matter how you looked at it, attacking someone out of nowhere like this was a bit much.
He thought this breed of adventurer had died out long ago. Apparently, crime never truly goes extinct.
"Ah, this really is the place."
As he walked, tracing the edges of his fading memories, a familiar village came into view.
Certain parts differed from what he remembered, but this was unmistakably the place he knew.
So this really was the Dungeon. Why was he here, though? Strange.
Strange or not, he couldn't stay here forever. Thankfully, all his equipment was with him, but he had no food and hardly any money. First, he'd hurry to Rivira Town for a meal, then head up to Orario.
"Orario..."
How many years had it been? He couldn't even remember properly anymore.
He ran a hand over his face. A texture barely changed from his youth traveled up through his fingertips.
Supple skin, without a single wrinkle — not even a blemish. The many battles he'd fought had left him with plenty of scars, but the quality of his skin could still have been called that of a boy.
Whether it was his goddess's blessing or simply a baby face he'd been born with, though he was human, he aged as little as an elf.
Which meant that every time he looked in a mirror, memories of those days came wafting faintly back.
Have I grown even a little more mature?
He knew it was an ungrateful complaint, but having grown up surrounded by so many admirable adults, he had always yearned more for maturity than for youth.
How to put it — that kind of grown-up presence that inspired confidence and commanded respect without even trying.
He figured that at his age, it was about time he carried himself with that kind of dignity...
"Tch. In my entire life, I've never once heard anyone say that about me."
For some reason, everyone around him always treated him like a kid. Was he still just a child?
It couldn't be his appearance. Captain Finn was the prum who looked far younger than he did, yet he carried himself like an elder among elders.
It must simply be that he was still young inside.
"How disappointing."
He felt a little pathetic — all these years, and he still hadn't become an adult.
Then again, maybe it was only natural. A man still clinging to the past becoming an adult would be a joke in itself.
"Oh, there it is. I can see it."
Rivira Town, the first sight of it in ages. During his adventuring days, the place had been an endless headache — yet after even a short absence, the nostalgia hit him like a wave. Funny how that worked.
Anyway, now that he'd finally reached the village, he'd grab a bite and head up—
"...Huh?"
Then, quite suddenly, a strange feeling washed over him.
Something was off, though he couldn't tell what.
"What is it?"
He looked around, but nothing in particular caught his eye.
The village differed a bit from his memory, but it was a village built to be knocked down in the first place. His memories lost all reliability after a single week.
The wary villagers weren't strange either. This was an adventurer's town — suspicion was simply the rule here.
...Though the stares were rather intense after such a long absence, most of these faces were strangers to him. The place must have been thoroughly rebuilt and repopulated during his rest. He'd experienced that a few times back in his active days too.
Aside from things being a little more extreme than usual, it was the same old Rivira Town. And yet an unshakeable wrongness clung to his legs, holding him in place and refusing to let go.
What was it? What on earth was—
"...Huh?"
The moment he lifted his head, he finally understood the source of that wrongness.
[ Rivira Town — 37th Generation ]
Thirty... seven?
His memory wasn't perfect, but the last Rivira Town he had seen was at least past its four-hundredth generation. And this one was thirty-seven? What did that even—
"Oh — did they start counting over from one?"
It sounded plausible. Four hundred did seem like a lot, thinking about it. Plenty reasonable.
...Was it, though?
Honestly speaking — and this was just his opinion — he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it.
If they were going to start over, they wouldn't have bothered counting at all. Adventurers' petty vanity would never, ever permit resetting the number.
But until he confirmed it, certainty was a mistake. He decided to flag down a random passerby and ask.
"Excuse me..."
"Hah...? Who're you supposed to be?"
Who am I?
Did this person not know him? Him — ranked 1st on the "Bright Prospects" list, 3rd on the "Fix Your Fate, Seize the Now" list, 7th on the "Male Adventurers Who Want to Be Called 'Big Sis!'" list?
Strange. He'd considered himself fairly famous. Had he somehow sunk into obscurity?
It had been a long rest, sure, but such a frosty reception stung a little.
"Sorry, I just wanted to ask... do you happen to know which generation this Rivira Town is?"
"And here I was wondering what you were on about... Are your eyes just for show? Can't you see it says thirty-seven right there?"
"Ah, no — I meant including all the ones before it."
"Huh...? What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"
...So it wasn't that, after all?
"...No, my apologies. I must have been mistaken."
"Tch. I'm swamped, and you're playing games."
Watching the man's back as he spat and walked away, he could only stand there, lost in a daze of thought.
Something — something was terribly, terribly wrong.