The Hero Festival Is a Place of Inspiration (3)

The episode where Berni, the mage companion of Hero Las, reunites with his rival Ves. In the mage growth arc, Ves had sold his soul to the demon race out of inferiority toward Berni and obtained a grimoire that let him learn magic faster than anyone. Berni struggles at first but ultimately wins using newly mastered spells, thoroughly crushing Ves in the end. Then he coolly declares that this is the bare minimum expected of Hero Las’s companion and puts a definitive end to their rivalry. Perfect. He’s a genius mage character like Leon, yet he beats Ves despite learning magic later. This feels like a solid plot development. And with this, he fully joins Las’s party. Nice. It’s basically like Prince Leon fought hard for my sake. If I use this inspiration well… Actually, just milking this Hero Festival properly should let me crank out several battle episodes in one go.

Come to think of it, the spectator seats have been noisy for a while now.

Schwald is getting absolutely roasted. Yeah. Well, that’s about what I expected. Public opinion seemed to have already turned on him hard. Honestly, I think this is for the best. It’s not exactly the revenge I wanted. If anything, the fact that these idiots self-destructed makes it awkward for me to avenge Milene myself. But going strictly by the original story, if the Holy Sword really only responds to bloodline, then Heintz or Leon would be far better than Schwald. As for Schwald and Sophia, whose reputations are currently in freefall, I can just deliver the finishing blow later. Anyway, the princes’ fights are over.

“Next up is the Sword Saint’s disciple, right?”

“So who’s fighting the Sword Saint’s disciple?”

God damn it! How long do I have to keep hearing “Sword Saint’s disciple”? Still, I am curious about my opponent. I’m pretty sure it was some weirdo named Orca or Urca or whatever. Either way, since my master might be watching, I have to handle this properly.

What kind of guy is he? The Urca I met in person inside the colosseum looked genuinely bizarre. A white-haired man who appeared to be in his late twenties, packed with muscle. He wore the pelt of some unidentifiable animal. His upper body was almost completely exposed. He was practically showing off how solid his physique was. Was that a scar on his stomach? It looked like the mark of a blade sheath. No, what is this guy? Some kind of Viking? He really was thick and massive. Maybe an upgraded version of the opponent Heintz faced. Why would someone like him even be here? Shouldn’t he be sailing around committing piracy or something? Ah. Maybe he actually came here to plunder. Wait, no. Since this is the Hero Festival, he must at least be a citizen of the kingdom, right?

Anyway, I walked casually toward the center of the colosseum arena. On the opposite side, I could see the guy called Urca.

“My name is Urca. I’m an adventurer from the eastern region of the kingdom.”

“Roen.”

“I entered this tournament to take a strong woman as my wife.”

Urca licked his lips, drooling. Ugh, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gross. Is it because I’m in Milene’s body? The feeling is downright repulsive.

“I see. Too bad this is only the preliminaries.”

Whether I win or lose, it definitely won’t end the way he wants. If I lose in the first round, I’m a weak woman. If I win, it means he’s too weak to have any right to look for a bride in the preliminaries.

“Kukukuk. True. But right now, I really want to see the face inside that armor.”

What a pervert. If I don’t win this, it might become dangerous in an entirely different way. Surrendering feels wrong. Since it’s come to this, I’ll defeat him the proper way.

All I have is sturdy black armor and the sword Decaron gave me. At least the armor isn’t too heavy, so I should be faster than that walking muscle mountain. He’s a genuinely unpleasant, creepy bastard, but that’s life. Two things are certain: I absolutely cannot lose to him, and second, fighting him is going to give me some serious inspiration.

Let’s look on the bright side. Volume 3 of Hero Party Defeat is going to have even more battle scenes than Volume 2. All right. Time to experience the material for Volume 3 in real life.

I closed my eyes for the briefest instant. The voices coming from the spectator seats vanished. The place where I stood was no longer the royal capital’s colosseum but a battlefield. Human and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠monster corpses lay scattered everywhere. Broken weapons and those that had lost their owners littered the ground. Before me stood a gigantic monster that resembled Urca—a goblin-like creature. That’s right. I am Hero Las. That thing is a commander of the Demon King’s army. The monster had come to annihilate the liberation army known as the human resistance. After slaughtering humans for a while, it had spotted me, the hero. And it was laughing beautifully.

Look. This silence is all thanks to me killing every human you were supposed to protect. Its expression seemed to say exactly that. The sunset sky looked like it was scolding me for arriving too late.

“Kukukuk.”

The corps commander (Urca) let out an unpleasant laugh and drew the greatsword from behind his back. With a sharp srung, the enormous blade emerged from its sheath, boasting its tremendous weight. There wasn’t even time to despair at the inescapable reality before the monster began moving its massive body. Thud. Thud. Slowly, slowly. The Demon King’s corps commander was saying it was my turn now. It walked toward me with a straight, mocking expression. As if it knew I wouldn’t run, it approached at a leisurely pace.

That’s right. A hero must not flee. A hero exists to save humanity. A hero must kill every last one of these disgusting monsters. Yet the more I reminded myself of that, the calmer my mind became. I had seen scenes like this countless times across more than a thousand years. So I focused solely on the enemy before me.

Srung. I drew the Holy Sword from my waist. The sharply gleaming blade caught the light. Judge the enemy before you with light. The Holy Sword seemed to be shouting those very words.

For someone carrying a greatsword and that massive body, there wasn’t a single opening. It absolutely did not let its guard down. Once it closed a certain distance, it began to charge. The huge sword scraping across the ground was genuinely threatening. I closed my eyes for a moment and steadied my senses, which had grown sharp from my rage toward monsters. My nose caught the thick smell of blood mixed with the monster’s foul stench. My ears picked up its mocking laughter and the heavy sound of its weight crushing the earth. There wasn’t a single ally present. My comrades were each carrying out different missions. So I had to fight alone here.

“Hero! You die here! I’ll sever the hope of humanity!”

So noisy. When does a person truly die? When their lifespan ends and they pass naturally, covered in wrinkles? Or when they trip over a rock and die in some ridiculous accident? Or by poison, or assassination? All wrong. No matter the manner of death, none of them were real death. A person dies when they lose the value of their own existence. Hero Las does not die when his body perishes. He dies the moment he abandons his duty as a hero. No matter how much this thing told me to die, I wouldn’t—because Las is a hero. Therefore, Hero Las charged forward without yielding to the threat. As if proving that the best defense is a good offense, I swung my sword without the slightest fear of that enormous blade.

“What?”

The previous momentum with which it had tried to overwhelm me was rendered meaningless as the monster faltered for an instant. It must have thought it held the initiative. I aimed for that gap and swung the Holy Sword quickly.

Clang!

I couldn’t knock it down in a single strike, but the massive sword was stopped by the Holy Sword. I didn’t retreat even an inch. I no longer possessed the same power as before, but I had not the slightest intention of losing to a grinning Demon King’s executive who slaughtered humans. I stayed vigilant. Clang! Having regained its composure, the monster raised its sword high and brought it down again. Since the Holy Sword was powerful, it was trying to crush me with sheer weight. That was the only strategy possible for a body like that. Because the opponent’s skill exceeded expectations, it was trying to use its advantage to break me. A simple strategy, yet with that thick body it was the best possible one that could offset every weakness. The monster swung its sword in a trance.

Kang! Kiiing!

Yet the monster’s attacks failed twice, three times. Evil can never overcome light. It had won through luck until now, but that was all. I would never fall. Not until I killed the Demon King. Not until I drew out my former power. So I decided to finish it in one blow. For someone who must kill the Demon King, a bloody struggle against a mere corps commander would be pathetic. The only attack method this thing had was the heavy weight of its repeatedly descending greatsword. To counter that method head-on, I gathered the hero’s power at the tip of my sword just once.

Clang!

I blocked the greatsword once, then this time I pushed forward with force. Instead of simply blocking, I parried the sword with my own.

“Not blocking, but knocking it away?”

And that became an irreparable mistake for the monster. The successful parry created an opening. Although it had been pressing hard with that body until now, the gap it showed was enormous. In that opening, I swung the Holy Sword forward as if thrusting it and instantly pierced the monster’s throat. The corps commander with its neck run through lost the light in both eyes, collapsed into a lump of meat, and I finally achieved victory. Hero Las had defeated the corps commander who annihilated the liberation army. I looked up at the fading sunset sky and closed my eyes.

Waaaaaaaaah!

When I opened my eyes again, a thunderous cheer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠filled my ears. Before me, the Urca who had been swinging his sword wildly moments ago was now sitting on the ground, trembling. The tip of my sword rested against his chin. If he moved forward even slightly, it would pierce him. Urca’s eyes were wide open, staring down at my blade.

“I-I surrender.”

“Winner, Roen!”

The victor was decided. I had won, and the corps commander episode was complete. Before I forgot this feeling, I wanted to go home and write. If I picked up a pen instead of a sword right now while this sensation was still fresh, I could crank out an entire volume.

But is the preliminary over after this? There were forty contestants. If only half remain, that’s twenty. From among them, they’ll choose the one the Holy Sword selects. Doesn’t this feel a bit too rushed? Well, it’s proof that Glacia is that desperate right now. After all, as a monarchy the succession problem has surfaced, and coincidentally at this exact time the scandal with Schwald and Sophia has spread across the entire nation. The other two princes have shown up, and there’s even the Demon King to worry about. They need to select a successor quickly and secure public sentiment to stabilize the country, so finishing fast might be best. Wouldn’t dragging it out be better? No. Since we don’t know when the Demon King might appear, it’s better to finish quickly. Quickly selecting skilled individuals and giving the two princes a chance to stand out would be wiser. In other words, because the Demon King’s arrival is unpredictable, they can’t afford to drag out the Hero Festival. This is a clever plan to prepare for the Demon King while resolving ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the succession issue in one stroke. I can probably use this in the novel too.

The problem now is me. After finishing the preliminary and stepping out, the two princes were looking at me.

“You’re the Sword Saint’s disciple, correct? Impressive. Your swordsmanship doesn’t fall short in the slightest, and to parry away a greatsword like that…”

“It’s a shame there wasn’t any blood flying around.”

“That just means the difference in skill was that large. Who would have thought there was someone this capable? Are you aiming for the position of Hero?”

For some reason, the gazes directed at me were friendly. I hadn’t done anything to earn their favor, though. Or maybe they were approaching me amicably first to figure out whether I was aiming for the Hero position, then planning to lynch me from behind? No matter how strong I am, being socially destroyed by people in power is unavoidable. For now, I should respond appropriately. I need to avoid looking down on them while making it clear I’m not necessarily after the Hero seat.

“I simply wish to test my own skills. I do not particularly desire the position of Hero.”

“I see. In any case, if we face each other next time, I look forward to it.”

Yes, yes. So please get out of my way now. I need to go home and start writing.