The Hero Esmeralda (1)

To state the obvious, Esmeralda was not a hero from the very beginning.

She was an ordinary country girl who lived a monotonous life, day in and day out.

That said, it wasn't as if every single day was identical. There was a time for sowing, and there was a time for harvest. She had grown up helping her parents with their work, and with each passing year, the things she was capable of doing increased, the things she knew how to do multiplied. There was never a dull moment, really.

But then came the autumn when she turned seventeen.

While harvesting the crops as she always did, she suddenly realized it. Ah. I've learned everything there is to learn now.

That this year would bring nothing new anymore. That a monotonous routine was about to begin. That unless she ran out into the wider world, she would live out her days in this narrow, quiet countryside — tilling the fields, planting the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seeds, and reaping the harvest when autumn came, over and over again, forever.

"Hmm……"

A common case of adolescent restlessness. She recognized it for what it was, arriving later in her than in most.

She wanted to be special. She longed to escape her monotonous routine. But this was nothing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more than a child's daydream — she understood the world too well for that. Raised learning and working under her parents, she knew exactly how harsh and treacherous the world outside truly was. Which meant the daydream called "specialness" she was entertaining now would only turn out to be poison, without question.

"Let's give it up."

Esmeralda brushed the thought away. She decided to live this monotonous life — a life more precious than anything else. Even if it bored her, she knew this was the greatest happiness she could ever hope for.

But then, one day.

The daydream she had erased came find her, right there before her eyes.

"The Holy Sword……"

It appeared in countless fairy tales, and in countless histories as well. A sword meant for the savior who would hold back calamity whenever it descended upon the world. Proof of the hero — and a beacon. And there it hung, floating in the air right in front of Esmeralda, in the middle of her ordinary routine, in the middle of her monotonous chores, at the very moment she found herself reminiscing over the thought, I suppose I did once dream about that kind of thing.

The instant she revisited that old memory of wanting to be special, the Holy Sword appeared before her.

"……"

But Esmeralda knew. She knew that specialness was poison — that the moment she took hold of this sword, she would cast aside with her own hands the peace she currently considered almost boring.

And she knew something else too. This Holy Sword did not respond to her alone. It had already passed through countless hands, and it would pass through countless more. The qualification to be a hero was not so special after all. Many people could do it. Only one, in the end, would be chosen.

Even if she refused to take this sword into her hands, nothing would go wrong. The Holy Sword would simply vanish, the way it always did, off in search of a new master.

"But."

Whose refusals had brought this sword to her doorstep in the first place? Simply by facing it, she could tell the Holy Sword had brushed past an enormous number of people. Even this time around, there had been plenty of others besides her. It was only because every last one of them had refused that the opportunity had finally arrived at Esmeralda's feet.

"Ahaha, I know. If I pick this up, my life as I know it is over, right?"

Merely looking at the sword told her everything. The moment she gripped it, every hardship imaginable would wrap itself around her fate. It would be an arduous journey, with no guarantee of success. The burdens she would have to shoulder alone would grow impossibly heavy.

Ah, right. That must be why.

"But if someone has to do it, then……"

She had once longed to be special. But she'd learned that longing was an illusion — because to be special meant living a life you could never grow accustomed to. Yes. Precisely because she no longer wished for specialness, she did not take up the sword.

"Then at least it should be me — the one who knows all of this……!"

But if she turned away from the Holy Sword, just as everyone before her had, who would be the next suitable candidate?

She was an ordinary girl who would live and die in a rural backwater like this one. Yet precisely because she had once dreamed of being special, she understood the weight of the Holy Sword and the title of hero. But what about everyone else? Would everyone the sword sought out from now on be just like her? What if they knew nothing at all? What if, without meaning to, without even understanding what it was, someone snatched up the sword that had appeared before their eyes? What if it drifted toward some child so young they couldn't even comprehend such things — a child who knew the world only through the pretty stories in fairy tales?

"Then I'll be the one to walk that path."

Yes — she made her decision for the sake of people she had never met, for beings she could only ever predict as a possibility. Her motive may have been specialness, but her choice was rooted in goodwill.

And so the girl took up the sword. She chose the most special and most perilous path in all the world.

A hero born on the frontier.

She didn't particularly hide the fact, nor did she go out of her way to reveal it. After all, by her own estimation, there would be people coming to find her sooner or later.

In the meantime, she practiced holding the sword, practiced swinging it. She worked to grow familiar with the power that came with becoming the hero.

About a week passed like that.

"Whaaat? This is the hero? She doesn't look any older than me!"

Someone found her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first — Tina, a scholar affiliated with the Eye of Truth. Esmeralda had no idea what method she'd used, but Tina had picked her out from among ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠entire crowds before anyone else, and became her friend.

Frankly, Esmeralda, who had been nervous about any number of things, could finally breathe a little easier.

Tina respected Esmeralda's choice purely and sincerely. She praised the nobility of her resolve. Knowing everything — every hardship, every burden — she had still opened her heart and offered her friendship anyway.

And then, one after another, the people who had each discovered the hero's existence by their own methods came flooding in.

The Seven Magic Towers, who had observed the flow of the stars and found her through astrology — their elder mages arrived. The Heavenly God Order, who received word of her location through divine oracle and came out to meet her — their high priests arrived. And then the Empire, holder of the largest territory in human history, so vast it could be said to contain them all — its officials came swarming in.

Delegates representing each faction filled the narrow frontier village to bursting.

As composedly as she could manage, Esmeralda declared her name and her intentions. Of course, she had no intention of letting her guard down. She had already researched the long history of those who tried to exploit the symbolism of the hero, and she resolved to weigh every single word that left her mouth. Politics, connections, backers — she had none of them. Careful words were the maximum struggle a girl like her could muster: the resolve of a hero who wanted to fight for humanity's future rather than for anyone's private gain.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hero. I am Irina Saintis, Saintess of the Heavenly God Order. I look forward to working with you."

But that……

"N-nice to… meet you. I'm Milia Asrin. Ah, a-a mage. I look forward to working with you?"

……was nothing but a futile struggle.

"Haha……"

Right. How much could she really accomplish all on her own?

She had no money to fund a journey and nowhere to stay. Her knowledge of the world consisted entirely of things she'd read in books, and she was a commoner who couldn't even begin to parse the political landscape of the Empire.

"……I look forward to working with you, too."

At the very start of her journey, she had been handed two bombs whose fuses could blow at any moment. Tina's existence was some small comfort, but Esmeralda doubted she'd be much help. After all, if those two ever showed their true colors, wouldn't Tina be the first one swept away by their hands?

Esmeralda felt her stomach burning with anxiety, but she didn't let it show. The greatest weapon she possessed at that time was information — the knowledge of what her companions were truly scheming. She had to live carefully, always keeping that knowledge in mind.

But if the others learned that she knew? That would become a genuine headache. It was a powerful weapon, and at the same time a bomb that could turn and stab her at any moment.

Yes — this, too, was a bomb. She felt like a walking munitions depot.

"Wow! Thank you, everyone! Let's all work hard to save the world together! We're the proud Hero Party, after all!"

She had no choice but to play the part of a naive, dim-witted country girl. If anyone caught on to the true effect of her power, it would all be over. Between the two great powers of the church and the towers, she had neither the strength, nor the authority, nor the connections, nor the cunning to survive.

Every moment of every day, she proved her worth with her life on the line — watching the enemy in front of her and the enemy behind her back alike. So she would not become their raw material for a Holy Relic. So she would not become their test subject. So she would not lose the friends she'd made, even if they wore those masks.

And so, as the pressure closed in from every direction and Esmeralda slowly drifted toward the edge of madness, a fateful encounter arrived.

"Sob, sob! The monsters in the forest did this to our village! Even if I wanted revenge, I don't have the strength for it! Please, Miss Hero, I'm begging you……! Please……!"

For a hero hovering around Lv. 100 at the time, he was the worst possible enemy.

Esmeralda stares blankly at Jim — at the face of the demon spy she fatedly encountered that day.

"Can't we rest a little longer?"

"Seriously, Jim, how are you so relaxed after getting kidnapped and everything?"

"I-if Jim wants to rest, then m-maybe resting is a good idea?"

"If you're feeling fatigued, shall I cast a holy blessing on you?"

Esmeralda surveyed the members of the Hero Party, each of them thinking only of themselves, and let out a long, deep sigh.

"We're leaving now, so let's get moving."

She walked on, eyes fixed ahead. Bombs dangling from her back in a neat little row.

Today, as always, she walked out alone among the people — to save the world.