One-Click (2)

Who was thrown into the deepest turmoil by the news of El Dorado sending an expeditionary force?

Kadir, the old friend of the late Hero? No.

Ludwig, or the families of the knights sent into the wild? Not them either.

It was none other than Asella—the apostate Hero, whose fate was inextricably bound to Ludwig.

Just why... why is the Holy Kingdom doing this to Teacher?

Inside a cramped, dingy room of an inn where she had barely managed to secure shelter, Asella sat in the dim yellow glow of a solitary lantern, staring intently at a freshly printed newspaper.

It had been barely a day. Only twenty-four hours had elapsed since the rumor broke of the expedition breaking ranks, yet newspapers like this were already flooding the streets in droves.

The venomous, condemning tone felt entirely premeditated, as if the copy had been drafted long before the event ever occurred. For Asella, it was utterly bewildering.

Most agonizing of all, however, was what they were doing to Ludwig.

Ludwig had been the head instructor tasked with raising and training the holy knights.

If anyone understood his stubborn, upright, and uncompromising nature, it was Asella. Under his stern yet deeply compassionate guidance, she had grown into a warrior worthy of being chosen as the Hero. Even as a child, she could sense just how cherished she was by him, despite his gruff exterior.

Born an orphan and starving for warmth, Ludwig had been nothing less than a father to her.

A misunderstanding... this has to be a terrible misunderstanding...

Asella’s fingers tightened against the cheap newsprint, crumpling the edges. Time after time, El Dorado had shown behavior that left her sick with disappointment.

Even so, El Dorado was the holy realm founded to honor and worship the pantheon led by the Goddess Aris. It was the land that had taken in a nameless orphan girl and forged her into a proud paladin.

Could all of this... truly be my fault?

Her thoughts drifted back to the fateful day she drew the Holy Sword Revolution from its pedestal.

The moment her fingers wrapped around its hilt, the Goddess herself had descended with an oracle—a prophecy so horrifying she still struggled to comprehend it.

The oracle decreed that she would be the one to bring ruin upon El Dorado.

At first, she thought there had been some cosmic mistake. But before she could even grasp the situation, inquisitors were at her throat, and she found herself fleeing into the shadows as a branded fugitive. Soon after, the Holy Kingdom officially declared her an apostate traitor, leading straight to the nightmare she lived today.

I never betrayed anyone...

No one knew better than Asella herself that she harbored no treasonous intent. That was why she had concluded that even the Goddess Aris must have misunderstood something.

To claim a deity was mistaken was considered the height of blasphemy. Yet the sheer cognitive dissonance of her circumstances left her with no other rational conclusion.

Even if I somehow prove my innocence... will Teacher ever be able to reclaim his honor?

Ludwig’s name was already being dragged through the mud. With El Dorado maintaining an iron grip over the press and public sentiment, a scandal of this scale was nearly impossible to reverse. Even the harrowing truth behind the Undying King Incident had been brushed beneath the rug as if it never happened, leaving her chest tight with an unbearable ache.

Lately, El Dorado seemed capable of nothing but deceit and disappointment.

Perhaps this was the nation's true face—a ruthless regime that had spent decades masquerading as a benevolent champion of light beneath the sacred mantle of a holy kingdom.

The Holy Kingdom I knew was never like this...

The El Dorado she remembered was a radiant, beautiful place. It was a haven where all lived in harmony under the divine protection of Aris and the gods, shielded by paladins armed with selflessness and chivalric devotion. It was a land where even a lowly orphan could dare to dream—could rise to become the Hero who guarded the world.

Yet everything it stood for now was the exact opposite.

They must simply be... lost. Everyone loses their way at least once.

Just as an individual could lose their path, so too could an entire civilization. Originally, El Dorado had been forged as an unyielding fortress to repel the Demon King—to resist the terrible menace of Mephisto.

Over the centuries, however, Mephisto’s domain had undergone a massive cultural renaissance. The demons had grown so hopelessly obsessed with ball sports that they came to despise physical violence, pivoting toward peaceful diplomacy and cultural appeasement. They had even issued formal, polite apologies for past conflicts. Deprived of the grand adversary that gave it purpose, El Dorado had drifted into aimlessness.

That’s why I have to keep the faith. Abandoning someone when they’re struggling is the worst thing you can do.

It was a life lesson Ludwig had personally drilled into her. Standing by the side of those who suffered was the ultimate virtue of a holy knight. That duty did not change simply because the one suffering happened to be an entire nation.

Steeling her resolve, Asella drew a deep breath.

She was completely oblivious to the fact that among the countless souls suffering across the continent, she was easily in the top tier herself.

Well, her and one other man, who was currently breaking his back in the lethal wilderness of the Four Seasons Forest.

I wonder what Mr. Grylls is up to right now?

Anxious for any distraction, Asella opened the Gallery interface to check his latest updates.

Thanks to Grylls sending that strange blade across the void to Ludwig, the remnants of the expedition had managed to scatter safely into the grassland. Even the slanderous state newspapers had grudgingly admitted that Ludwig wielded a sinister 'demonic sword' to fend off the inquisitors and allow the conspirators to flee. Hearing the forum's vivid eyewitness reports had confirmed without a shadow of a doubt that the weapon was Grylls's doing.

Scanning the feed, a new thread caught her eye:

"Huh?!" Asella let out a sharp, choked gasp, biting her tongue.

Given the title, she couldn't help reacting with pure alarm. From time immemorial, the heavens were revered as the sovereign domain of the divine. Whether taken literally or poetically, a title like that was impossible to overlook.

Don't tell me Mr. Grylls is committing blasphemy again...

He had a notorious habit of casually tossing out sacrilegious rants whenever things went sideways. Fearing the worst, Asella clicked into the post immediately, fully prepared to issue a stern administrative warning if he had crossed the line.

As it turned out, he wasn't specifically blaspheming the Goddess Aris; he was quite literally cursing the weather and the physical sky.

Even so, an indirect distaste for higher powers bled through every word he wrote.

A man who chooses to hate the gods rather than hate other people...

Asella pondered his nature deeply. Could she ever guide his heart toward faith? Yet she knew that if a man in his wretched isolation couldn't vent his rage at the heavens, he would end up directing that bitter hatred toward his fellow human beings.

Human beings, after all, were creatures who could scarcely endure life without someone or something to direct their grievances against. The ancient scholars had not categorized human emotion into joy, anger, sorrow, and delight for nothing.

In that case, I just need to gently guide him to harbor a little less resentment!

Asella’s trademark optimism flared brightly to life. Tapping on the active thread, she drafted her reply with earnest conviction.

Had her relentless preaching finally borne fruit? Grylls had actually agreed to offer a prayer!

In truth, Grylls only did it because he was trapped indoors and completely bored out of his skull, but Asella was overflowing with pure, unadulterated joy.

With this, perhaps he'll soften his heart toward the gods, even just a little...

She waited patiently in the comment section, clasping her hands together in silent supplication for good fortune to reach him.

Roughly thirty seconds passed.

No new comment appeared beneath her reply.

Instead, a brand-new post suddenly detonated at the top of the forum feed, making Asella’s eyes widen in sheer horror.

The post was short, violent, and abundantly clear: the exact second he finished the prayer, the storm had doubled in ferocity, transforming into a torrential flash flood.

Asella stared blankly at the screen for a long, silent moment, her cheeks burning pink, before quietly logging out of the Gallery.

W-Well... even Lady Aris can't answer every single prayer right away!

Her optimism, truly, knew no mortal limits.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Pardon the intrusion, honored guest. Are you awake inside?"

The sudden rapping at the wooden door broke her reverie. Recognizing the voice as the elderly innkeeper, Asella reflexively channeled her mana through her meridians.

Instantly, her heightened senses rippled outward, scanning not merely the hallway behind the door, but the entire perimeter of the establishment.

There’s someone else... standing right next to the innkeeper.

And it wasn't just a suspicious presence. Faint, hushed murmurs drifted across the floorboards, carried by the subtle vibrations of her mana.

"Are you certain she is the one inside?"

"Y-Yes, my lord. The fiery orange hair was unmistakable."

"Very well. We breach the room immediately. You shall receive your bounty the moment the traitor is captured alive."

"A-A thousand thanks, honorable knights! A thousand thanks!"

The voices were pitched down to barely audible whispers, but every syllable rang crystal clear in Asella's ears. Rather than hearing them through physical sound, her sharpened perception mapped the voices directly into her mind like physical contours.

They’ve caught up with me already...?

She had arrived in this secluded border town only two days ago. Biting her lower lip until it nearly bled, she sprang into motion without wasting a heartbeat.

Snatching the Holy Sword Revolution from the bedside table, she glided toward the open window.

I still need more time. Just a little more time for the truth to come to light... for the misunderstanding to be undone.

She slipped through the window frame and launched herself lightly onto the damp, slick roof tiles below.

CRASH!

A thunderous splintering echoed behind her as the reinforced door was violently kicked off its hinges. Heavy iron-shod boots stomped into the room, swords drawn, only to find an empty bed and a fluttering curtain in the damp night air.

O Goddess... please grant me the strength to endure these trials.

Clinging fiercely to her unyielding devotion, the solitary Hero vanished into the rain-swept darkness.

At the exact same hour Asella was sprinting across rooftops to evade the Holy Kingdom's hounds—

"ARGGHHH! You filthy sons of bitches! Back off!! Get the hell out!! This is MY house!"

"Kieeeeeeck!"

"Kerk! Kek-krrr!"

Deep inside the Four Seasons Forest, Grylls was swinging a massive wooden club like a madman, desperately repelling a stampede of drenched, terrified wild beasts that were trying to barge into his dry cave to escape the sudden deluge.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIVING ROOM!!!"