Gallery 5: Hero Stunned by the Corpse
[Shifting viewer perspective.]
The Mage puked.
Her stomach churned, and she couldn't stop retching.
"Urk—."
In a world yellowed by dizziness.
Staring at the ruined buckle where the money pouch should have hung from the corpse's waist.
The Mage thought.
'It's my fault.'
She'd just loved magic.
—"I need you. I'd like you to be my comrade."
—"......And who the hell are you?"
—"The Hero."
—"Pardon?"
She had no interest in saving the world or anything like that.
—"I think I've heard rumors of a guest like you coming...... but why me?"
Heroes, Demon Kings, salvation, ruin—none of that had anything to do with her.
She was too busy researching magic.
Holed up in her tower, peering into the truths of magic, she'd be content to die with the world if it came to that.
Truth held no honor or good or evil.
What reason did she have to become the Hero's comrade?
—"I need you to save the world."
But the dumb Hero couldn't grasp that.
He just talked about duty.
Sacrificing for the world was obvious to him.
A righteous man. Or maybe he'd come too far to abandon righteousness now.
—"I'm the Hero, but I can't swing a sword."
—"Pardon?"
—"When I try to swing it, my whole body stiffens up. Fear and anxiety bleach my mind white, leaving me powerless. Even faced with threats trying to kill me, I can't bring myself to try killing them back. Thinking of red blood and squishy flesh makes me want to puke. Blood scares me. Meat scares me. Killing things that wriggle and pulse terrifies me."
She had no interest in the Hero's flimsy, shallow sense of justice.
—"Intriguing. So it's not just that you're weak?"
—"I'm strong. Probably... the strongest in this world. Stronger than any hero in history."
—"Pfbt. Quite the braggart."
But the Hero himself was somewhat intriguing.
—"Then no blood or flesh should be fine, right?"
A man chosen by the goddess herself.
A being born with the fate to save the world.
She wondered if her magic could surpass that fate.
—"A magitech golem I made myself. I put some real effort into it, so it could take on even a swordmaster without breaking a sweat."
If weaving fate's threads was the goddess's role, wasn't dyeing those threads the mage's job?
She was curious.
Whether the golem she'd made could beat this "so-called" Hero.
—"Beat this golem, and I'll join you as a comrade. Deal? No blood or flesh, so not scary, right? Pfbt."
—"A golem... yeah, I think I can manage that. Fine. I accept your challenge."
—"Don't cry to me if you get hurt~."
The Hero's words weren't empty boasts.
He truly was the strongest, and her masterpiece fell pathetically to his blade.
—"N-no way! How is it getting one-sided like this......!"
—"Crude."
—"W-what?! My invention just got—"
—"Your technique is too crude for your power. The workmanship isn't bad, but you're using moves unfit for that bulk. Might as well just swing wildly on instinct. Did you train it on human martial arts?"
—"......How did you know?"
—"I'll craft martial arts suited to a golem's size. So, won't you be my comrade?"
She could understand why the goddess chose this coward as Hero.
His talent was brilliant.
—"I already lost the bet anyway......"
—"I won't force you. What I need isn't just a strong mage—I need one I can trust and rely on. Can't make a comrade without heart."
—"Ha! After showing me that, saying it's optional now—how could I refuse?"
She wanted to borrow his talent to perfect her magitech.
Such special material always set her heart racing.
—"Gathering materials anyway, a short trip wouldn't hurt. With your skills, you could hunt the Demon King in no time anyway."
—"......Sorry. It won't be that easy."
—"What, because of that phobia you mentioned? A few months rolling in battlefields will fix that quick. Who's not scared of blood and corpses at first?"
Back then, she'd been so naive.
With a Hero that skilled as a comrade, how could they fail?
He said he feared blood, but anyone new to battlefields felt that way.
She thought it'd pass quickly.
A few fights would be enough.
—"He passed out standing up...?!"
She hadn't known his phobia was pathological.
If she had, she'd have refused.
—"You're such a real coward."
—"Sorry."
—"Whatever. I didn't listen properly when you warned me beforehand."
It wasn't fraud.
The Hero had tried explaining everything honestly multiple times.
She was the one who'd brushed it off.
—"Just keep the contract terms. Oh, materials we find on the trip are all mine, right?"
Getting data for golem training was enough.
Material gathering was a bonus.
—"Anyway, hilarious. What was the goddess thinking picking you as Hero? Sword's sharp as hell but won't even draw from its sheath."
Back then, she'd teased him harshly, finding his cowering pathetic and amusing.
She wasn't used to talking to people.
Locked in the Magic Tower researching—social skills? What were those?
—"Anyway, I'll handle combat, so just hang back. I'll leave a few for practice, so don't worry. Suppress with magic, stab with sword to get used to it. Simple, right?"
—"......"
—"That's too hard? You're hopeless. Then why accept the duty? Could've refused and let the goddess pick someone else."
—"I thought I could manage. Back then."
—"Aha, no self-awareness? Yeah, kids are like that."
Not even close to affectionate, yet chattering away to sate her curiosity, she spewed hurtful barbs.
Her tongue ran wild.
Her words cut deep.
Never considering the listener's feelings.
The Hero suffered most, yet all she gave were harsh words.
—"......"
The party's mood soured bit by bit.
Everyone except the Hero fulfilled their roles, but no one except him acted like comrades.
Just a bunch of strong folks gathered.
Without personal goals and duties, the party would've collapsed already.
—"Hero. Fall back."
—"......Got it."
They barely talked anymore.
Only orders and commands.
No need to speak otherwise unless sharing info.
Cold.
That coldness felt familiar.
Somehow like her old days researching alone in the Magic Tower workshop.
—"Sigh. Maybe I should just go back to the tower......"
Suddenly, doubt crept in about it all.
She had plenty of data, loads of materials.
Contract or not, she'd done enough.
Plus, hadn't the Hero said it?
He needed comrades he could trust and rely on, not just strong ones.
Without heart, no comrades.
So her staying on, passion lost, looked ridiculous.
And then.
The day she'd resolved to leave the party.
A porter came to the Hero Party.
—"Need a capable porter by any chance?"
A brazen, unflappable porter who straight-up called himself capable.
—"I think I can be of help to you all."