The False Hero (3)
Kellion had no particular thoughts when he answered Theon's summons and made his way to the office.
In fact, even after hearing the sudden order to descend secretly to the underground prison, his only concern was whether he'd be getting home late.
Ugh. Today's ruined. Completely ruined.
The trouble began the moment they stepped inside the underground prison.
After sending the poor guards on night duty to sleep with a spell and pressing onward, Theon abruptly declared that he would start with an inspection of military discipline and then investigate every single imperial institution.
In that instant, Kellion instinctively knew he had been dragged into something messy.
He had stepped down from the position of Red Tower Master and come to the palace in the first place because he was at the age where one starts scouting burial plots. His plan had been to receive suitable treatment and simply laze about.
From what Kellion remembered, Theon possessed a heart far too gentle and kind for a first prince—almost fragile in nature.
Theon was simply not good at uttering words or performing actions that would wound others. This did not mean he lacked ability.
On the contrary, when it came to raw talent alone, he ranked among the finest on the continent.
After all, who had taught him?
Had His Majesty the Emperor not collapsed so suddenly and the church not announced the hero selection, the next throne would have passed to Theon without issue.
Knowing this, Kellion had accepted the adjutant post. Yet now it seemed he would be swept into the imperial succession struggle after all.
Still, what was done was done.
His retirement plans had gone awry, but the important thing now was to consider the future.
Rather than watch that arrogant, thoroughly materialistic second prince ascend the throne, it would be far better for his own prospects to work diligently now and lend Theon his strength.
Now that I think about it...
Theon's suddenly altered demeanor stirred Kellion's curiosity.
It was as if he had become an entirely different person overnight.
Almost as though he had aged a full ten years.
The soft, yielding atmosphere he once carried was gone.
What Theon said next was even more unexpected.
An entrance to the hero's relic lay in the deepest level of the imperial underground prison.
It might have been an overinterpretation of His Majesty's words, but if true, it certainly appealed to a mage's heart.
A relic from the age of myths!
The magical structures operating throughout it, the array of rare treasures—researching them alone would clearly provide immense help in reaching the eighth circle.
There would of course be a guardian, but it could not possibly stand against him, the one once feared as the Red Tower's Mad Dog.
A storm of horrifying heat swept through the ruins. The gold coins scattered around melted and flowed away; several artifacts shattered without a trace.
Before long the wind died, leaving the dragon's remains frozen in place—its upper body reduced to white bone where all the flesh had melted off.
“Did we… kill it?”
Kellion could not tear his eyes from the wreckage.
Usually when someone said that, things ended badly.
Fwoosh—
Flames suddenly enveloped the dragon's entire body. From within the fire, the creature regenerated its wounds and lunged straight at Kellion.
He hurriedly omitted the chant and fired the same spell he had used moments ago, but—
[Krr—]
The dragon merely snorted in contempt. There was no sign it had taken any damage.
So this is the guardian of the hero's relic.
The strongest species of the mythical age.
They had since vanished to the far side of the world, yet they were without doubt the true progenitors of magic—magnificent beings who had once vied with the gods themselves.
Such a creature, bolstered by the relic's blessing, left even a seventh-circle mage without an answer.
Yet the hero received the same blessing. The trial would not begin with an impossible challenge. It would simply be that difficult.
At this point, I can draw on a fair amount of my future power.
Still, for Theon—the second-round hero who would one day defeat the Demon King—it was almost too easy.
That was likely the miscalculation on the part of whoever had designed the trial.
Theon casually snatched up a sword rolling across the floor, raised it high, and struck the descending dragon with a single blow. He then spoke to the stunned Kellion.
“That thing suffers no damage from any attack it has already endured. It can even return from death any number of times through the relic.”
“Then how do you intend to defeat it, Your Highness?”
Kellion, having regained his composure, asked coolly.
“This is, after all, a hero’s trial. If we obtain the holy sword, the trial should end. Kellion, open the path. I will go claim the holy sword.”
“Understood!”
Kellion began manifesting magic circles across the cavern. One, two, four, eight… Their number doubled in an instant, filling the air.
Moreover, each circle was a different high-level spell. Even for a seventh-circle mage, mastering so many distinct high-tier spells was rare.
This was surely the result of his days as Red Tower Master—constantly raiding other towers and committing every sort of eccentricity. The more Kellion saw, the more he regretted that such talent had died in his place in the previous timeline.
It looked as if Kellion was pushing himself hard, but he would be satisfied as long as he could study the relic afterward.
Crunch—clang!
The instant the dragon revived, several of Kellion’s floating circles blazed with light. They froze the massive body and shattered it to pieces simultaneously.
I don’t think I need to help him.
Kellion’s side seemed fine.
He had to find the holy sword before Kellion reached his limit.
Theon scanned the area thoroughly with his divine eye, searching for the target. The holy power saturating the ruins masked the sword’s presence, making it difficult to pinpoint.
I remember finding it much more easily before the regression.
The continuous roar of Kellion’s spells colliding violently with the dragon echoed through the cavern. They had already been locked in stalemate for several minutes.
Whenever the dragon, now developing some resistance to magic, prepared to unleash its breath, Kellion would expend even more circles to bring the beast down again. The cycle repeated endlessly.
A brutal war of attrition.
The dragon held the advantage.
[KROOOOOO!!]
“Hmm!”
This was not good.
Yet the situation had been far worse last time.
Kellion had not been with him then, and even with the blessing the dragon was simply too much. He had spent most of his time simply running away.
By the end, most of the gold coins and artifacts had probably melted in its breath.
Nevertheless, he had eventually located the holy sword and cleared the trial safely.
.
..
...
He felt as if he were forgetting something important.
Now that he thought about it, why did other weapons exist inside the hero’s relic?
To a hero, any weapon other than the holy sword was ultimately useless no matter how excellent it might be.
In that case, there was no problem melting them all down. Kellion would probably mourn the loss, but Theon decided to recreate the previous timeline’s conditions.
“Kellion, fall back.”
He once again raised the sun into the air—the symbol of the imperial family and the unique magic of the hero’s bloodline.
Seeing it, the dragon laughed as though it found the sight ridiculous. Then it created an equally massive sun of its own in the air.
Is that possible because it can use the hero’s mana?
Theon was beginning to understand.
The reason he had only found the holy sword after everything around him had melted.
The reason the dragon had disappeared at the same time.
The true purpose of this underground relic.
All the surrounding weapons had been raw materials for the holy sword. Even the dragon itself.
The relic was a colossal forge that melted everything down and tempered it into a single blade.
No wonder my divine eye couldn’t find it.
There was no need to rely on the dragon’s breath as before.
His own firepower was more than enough to melt every weapon here.
“Return to the place where you belong. Star of Extinction.”
"Return to the place where you belong."
⟨ Star of Extinction ⟩
The light vanished for a moment.
When it returned, the sun had already devoured the dragon’s version and contracted into a single point of absolute destruction.
And then—
With a sharp beep,
KWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!!!!!
A colossal explosion filled every corner of the cavern.
“Cough, cough! Your Highness, are you all right?”
Kellion appeared in a thoroughly disheveled state and sent a gust of wind sweeping through the area. The thick dust cleared in an instant as he casually asked after Theon’s well-being.
“No major issues. More importantly, look ahead.”
“This is…”
Where the sun had vanished, another sun now shone.
At the center of the brilliant aurora illuminating the cavern, a single sword stood proudly embedded in the middle of the ruins.
“That is exactly why we came down here—the Holy Sword Solarion.”
The legendary blade of the sun, hidden within imperial ruins.
Possesses immense life force. Heals allies and burns enemies with pure solar fire.
Theon walked toward the sword.
The power that had filled his body began flowing into the blade.
Kellion watched in silence, mouth agape.
Clang!
The moment his hand closed around the holy sword’s hilt, a massive aurora burst forth once more. It resembled the furious roar of a dragon.
Perhaps because he had succeeded in melting even the dragon into the blade this time, faint patterns resembling rough dragon scales seemed to flow across the sword’s surface.
“The hero… The hero has been born.”
Kellion murmured unconsciously, utterly entranced.