Pulling the Holy Sword
The Empire’s Sword Saint raised his disciples without regard for nationality, gender, or profession. “This should be sufficient.” Well, the old man doesn’t have many days left, so I figured it was fine. I could play along with his whims a little. Besides, the existence called Decaron could become decent material for me later. I could always model a regret-story protagonist directly after him, for instance.
“After hearing you speak, I suppose it is.”
“Even so, it is an honor to be Master’s final disciple.”
“Indeed.”
The Sword Saint’s disciple is K-author? It could easily become gossip fodder later. If I rode that wave to build even more fame, my novels would probably sell like never before.
This was actually pretty good. If I managed my image like this, even after it came out that I was originally Milene, the Schwald faction wouldn’t be able to touch me carelessly. A little groundwork would do the trick. Later I could reveal I’m Roen. I had no idea how my maternal family would react, but seeing how they let Milene die, they might be cut from the same cloth. Or maybe Holfert truly never told Roen. Still, since I’d be bringing glory to their house, I doubted the maternal side would complain.
“Hmm. Still, if I become the Hero, I’ll probably turn out to be the most pathetic, worst Hero imaginable, you know?”
“Why do you think so?”
“Because I’ll only be writing novels.”
Anyway, I was absolutely not Hero material. In more ways than one, I might end up doing the insane thing of swinging the Holy Sword while trying to write. It wasn’t technically impossible, but no matter how many times I thought about it, an author whose proper role was Saintess suddenly doubling as Hero was completely unhinged.
Yet what exactly was Master thinking? His expression had grown extremely strange.
“Ah, that does make sense. Still, you write remarkably fast. I’ve only ever written textbooks, but writing is not something that comes easily.”
Ah. That was because I was a Saintess. I couldn’t exactly say that out loud. Should I just claim my body was high-spec? That insane author had called it high-spec every other day anyway. Decaron wouldn’t know anything about that field, so a vague excuse should work. There was no chance he’d take my words at face value, and even if he did, he might try to shove me into the Hero party just to show off that I surpassed his previous students. Hard pass.
“Yes. There’s training as well. That’s why I can’t help writing quickly.”
“Mm. Then it cannot be helped.”
Still, I needed to keep watch over who became the Hero. After all, someone had to defeat the Demon King if the human world was to know peace. Since that idiot author had told me to keep living in this world, surviving like a cockroach meant I could not, under any circumstances, die.
The Demon Realm—a region where ash-gray sky and ash-gray earth merged into one. The world called this place the Demon Realm. It had long been the land where legends claimed the Demon King was born. As proof, at the center stood a colossal castle surrounded by the domain of monsters. Yet the place long abandoned and untouched by human feet had recently grown disturbingly active with monsters.
There was only one reason.
Deep beneath swirling thunderclouds, the enormous castle known as the Demon King’s stronghold shuddered with the first pangs of labor. At last, the Demon King who had been sealed away was awakening.
The Demon King, petrified upon the throne of his castle, felt his eyelids tremble. A moment later, his eyes opened. Before him stood a pile of bones draped in a robe. The skeleton’s name was Lich—an existence who had once been a powerful summoner in the distant past before falling and becoming undead. Behind him, countless high-ranking officers of the Demon King’s army trembled with emotion at their lord’s resurrection.
“Ooooh! At last our King has returned!”
“What era is this?”
The newly revived Demon King Blaros gazed out the window. This was unmistakably the Demon Realm, the land he had lived in long ago, yet the air felt subtly different. Just how much time had passed?
“After you were sealed by the Hero you should have torn apart, one thousand five hundred years have flowed by. The successor nation of the Hero who sealed you and the countries built by humans now surround us on all sides. It is time for you to restore order, Your Majesty.”
“What has happened until now? Have the monsters done nothing but lose to humans for fifteen centuries?”
“Several times a being with outstanding leadership among the Demon King’s army impersonated the Demon King and waged war against humans, yet each time they were defeated by the Hero.”
The time had finally come. The seal on the true Demon King had at last been released. Now the Demon King’s army would rise again and announce his return to the entire world. Though it had been thwarted by Heroes many times before, this time the genuine Demon King had awakened. He was different from the pretenders who had merely harassed humans before being crushed.
“Hmm. Is that so? To think I would revive in this era.”
“Ooooh, our eternal King. Please lead us!”
All the monsters knelt before the Demon King.
“Hmm. Strange.”
“Yes?”
“Why is our Saintess… why can I not see Milene?”
The Demon King’s Saintess, Milene. She had once been the Saintess of the Goddess Church that served the continental goddess, but as the war between the Demon King and humans dragged on she began to question the goddess’s existence and fell into corruption. She had nearly been executed by the Church, only to be saved by the Demon King and entrust herself to his army, becoming the Saintess who served him. With a Saintess on the Demon King’s side, the war had begun to tilt in their favor—until that damned Hero stormed straight into the Demon King’s castle and ended it.
The Lich had witnessed it all.
“The Saintess was slain by the Hero.”
Of course her end had not been pleasant either. The Hero, who had loved her, offered the fallen Saintess a chance at redemption. He tried to persuade her to reform and live for humanity and the goddess. But Milene refused. She declared she would serve the Demon King, that she would fight the Hero—his enemy—and rampaged until she was killed by the Holy Sword. Before dying, she left a final message for the Lich, the last surviving one of the Four Heavenly Kings.
—I will definitely reincarnate and serve His Majesty the Demon King once more.
She had been a Saintess of terrifying devotion and loyalty to the Demon King. Even though she had fallen, she showed more boundless affection for him than she ever had for the goddess.
“It appears the Saintess has reincarnated as a human in this era.”
“What? Then…?”
“There is a possibility she has lost her memories.”
“Nonsense. How could she lose her memories? Find her at once. Do we have any estimated countries? If necessary I will even lead an army myself.”
They had to find her no matter what. The Saintess had been the most crucial member of the Four Heavenly Kings. She had saved countless soldiers of the Demon King’s army who were dying to the Holy Sword.
“For now you must conserve your strength, Your Majesty.”
“Even so? Even if she has reincarnated as a human, I cannot leave my Saintess among those vermin.”
How could he leave a Saintess who was one of the Four Heavenly Kings among mere humans? She must be brought back.
“I shall search for her myself.”
“Can you do it?”
“I will know her when I see her. I hear a country called Glacia is currently holding a Hero Festival.”
“Is that so. The Saintess is the one existence I need most. You must find her.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Milene herself had no idea. She had no idea that the hack author had prepared numerous settings he never explained in the novel.
The day of the finals. Unlike the preliminaries, the finals involved no combat—it was literally just pulling the Holy Sword. Extremely basic. This was partly because the Hero Festival had been organized in a hurry in case Leon and Heintz were eliminated, so matters like main-event prizes had never been properly discussed.
In any case, the finals were essentially the overall championship round. Naturally, Master was furious.
“How can this be! For the King of Glacia to hold the Hero Festival in such a shabby manner!”
“Master, please calm yourself. It couldn’t be helped. The internal situation in Glacia right now doesn’t allow them to drag the Hero Festival out at leisure.”
Had it been the Empire they would have protested and demanded proper fighting in the finals, but a kingdom was different. As the land of the Hero, they placed profound meaning on the act of drawing the Holy Sword itself. They would probably be delighted simply to witness it being pulled. After all, it was a legend. Moreover, thanks to my novel, they would like the Holy Sword pulling even more.
“Even so!”
“Master, you must understand that Glacia is different from the Empire.”
Glacia and the Empire were fundamentally distinct. Since Decaron came from the Empire it seemed he found it disappointing, but this was normal. If anything, I was starting to worry Decaron was pushing me toward combat more than necessary.
“Damn it all.”
“Well, I do think it can’t be helped. Ahem. Master, please don’t get so angry. Calm down.”
Why did I have to soothe an old man’s temper? It was genuinely depressing. It would have been nice if he were one of those beautiful masters from martial-arts romance novels.
“Ugh. Still, it is a shame I won’t get to fight the princes after all.”
“It can’t be helped. Even so, I believe I am plenty strong.”
“Hmm. Then as expected, the Holy Sword—”
“No, that’s not it.”
I was a writer. Decaron’s greed was going too far. Maybe I should just send him back to the Empire? If I casually leaked the information to the Four Swords of the Empire they would probably come collect him. Of course, given Decaron’s personality he probably wouldn’t go quietly, but that was their problem.
I wanted to become independent from Master. I really couldn’t write like this.
“Anyway, it would be good if you pull it. Go on, then.”
“Yes.”
Leaving Master behind, I slowly prepared to leave.
“Miss, fighting!”
“If it’s you, Miss, you can become the Hero!”
Why was everyone so certain? I had no idea why they took it for granted that I would become the Hero.
Anyway, I headed for the church in the eastern part of the capital where the finals were being held. In the church courtyard stood a boulder with the Hero’s sword embedded in it. All I had to do was pull it out.
“Citizens of the Glacia Kingdom! Today is finally the day a new Hero is born!”
When I arrived, an official who appeared to be from the palace was hosting the event. Wait, how could he sound so sure? The worst-case scenario was that no Hero would be chosen at all. Of course it would probably appear, but still—you never knew. If it truly didn’t, the turn would simply pass to another country of the Hero. There were substitutes, after all. Still, it would be nice to have extra Heroes. I hoped with all my heart that one of those two princes would be chosen, just as the king and queen had gambled.
As expected, an enormous crowd had gathered.
“The finalists will now pull the Holy Sword embedded in the Hero’s boulder in order of their numbers.”
Hmm. Many people had come, but the actual process was a little different. You went inside, pulled it to prove you were the Hero, then came back out and showed off to the crowd. There were structures built around the Holy Sword, so unless they hauled the entire boulder out, viewing it was impossible. Therefore, the moment you pulled it and emerged they would cheer you as the Hero.
“Will the legendary Hero finally appear?”
“After seeing the previous Hero party get crushed, I’m curious what the real one looks like.”
“You too? Same here.”
“The romance novel was pretty good too, right?”
“We’re talking about the Hero party—why bring up romance?”
“I heard K-author is a beautiful writer who also writes romance novels.”
Oh, it seemed some people had fallen for my work. Perfect. In the end this was marketing for me. Both those who came after reading my novel and those who simply came to watch—if they started talking about my books, all the better.
The participants began moving again.
“Does pulling it automatically make you the Hero?”
“Ordinary Holy Power makes it nearly impossible to pull. Simple strength alone is not enough. Therefore, if you pull it, you are the Hero.”
Even now someone was asking questions and the official was answering. Some conversation like that took place.
Holy Power? Shit—wait, didn’t I have max Holy Power? This body was a Saintess, after all.
Feeling like I was being dragged to a slaughterhouse, I and the other finalists entered the structure containing the boulder with the Holy Sword.
“First, the Rose Queen, Rohanna!”
So the whip beauty had made it to the finals too. Still dressed in an outfit that boldly displayed her figure and drawing every eye, she began trying to pull the sword. But could someone whose main weapon was a whip even wield the Holy Sword properly? The thought suddenly crossed my mind. Well, of course there was no way that woman could pull it. Sure enough, the whip beauty scrunched her face until her carefully maintained appearance was ruined. She even hung from it with both legs, but the sword refused to budge.
“Hek. Hek. Hek. Tch. Why won’t it come out?”
“What a shame. It did not pull!”
Watching quietly, this was basically just gacha, wasn’t it? Of course it was pulling the Holy Sword, but the person who succeeded was no different from an SSR character. Hmm, so was this a battle over whether I was SSR or not? No—first of all, I must not become SSR. Let me repeat: I did not want to be the Hero.
“Tch! To think I’m not the Hero!”
The kid naturally failed. More importantly, she had made it to the finals? Her presence was so faint I hadn’t noticed. Did the other red-claw kids fail too? Well, it would have been more surprising if they reached the finals with those skills.
A little more time passed. Still no one had pulled the Holy Sword. Which was only natural.
It was gradually my turn.
“Oh. Next is finally the disciple of the Sword Saint.”
Oh, so those princes were right after me. Not bad. Having those two immediately after me would give the final pull some real dramatic flair. If I had been in the middle, after I became the Hero the remaining candidates wouldn’t even be able to budge it.
I approached the boulder with the Holy Sword embedded in it. Up close, the sword was surprisingly simple in design, not flashy at all. For now I formally grasped the hilt and gave a formal tug.
Creak.
Oh shit. Why is this coming out? Put it back in.