Raise Her Well
“Hah! Hngh...!”
The vast training grounds, used only by the two of them. Normally reserved for the royal knights' drills, but the hero's schedule took precedence over theirs.
“Focus on your mana control.”
Herien, with her cold expression, offered advice on mana manipulation to the little hero girl bustling energetically across from her.
Whoosh! She swiftly swung her wooden sword at an opening with nimble footwork, but it was just a fleeting strike from a child.
Clack! Without so much as blinking, Herien effortlessly parried Elion's attack.
“Ahh...!”
The small frame, overpowered by an adult's strength, tumbled across the training ground. Yet Elion stood right back up without a single whimper, full of grit.
The Sword Saintess had every reason to feel pleased, but instead, a disconcerting unease hardened her face further.
Those chosen as heroes were inherently slow to react to external shocks. Whether it was a physiological change to prevent excessive fear, she didn't know, but they all shared similar traits.
Even the Elion before her now—despite her full-force strike being blocked, she felt no frustration or resentment, just moved on to the next step devoid of emotion.
It must be a curse.
A price for power beyond their qualifications. She had no choice but to acknowledge it bleakly. The weight of the title "hero," wielder of the holy sword, was profoundly different.
“Hoo, haa...!”
After training ended, Herien approached Elion, who lay sprawled on the ground catching her breath. In her hands were a bottle of cold water and a towel.
Elion's face brightened even more under Herien's care, and a looser atmosphere flowed between them than during training.
“...Elion.”
Suddenly, Herien addressed the recumbent hero girl.
“Yeah...?”
“Do you like Father God?”
A question she'd asked several times already. She couldn't believe a hero backed by the holy sword and the Heir of the Lost Star would serve another constellation.
Herien still couldn't wrap her head around the situation.
“....”
Hearing the tiresome question yet again, Elion ignored how many times it was and beamed from ear to ear.
“...Yeah! I really, really like him...!”
It was a moment when the child's innocence and purity shone brightest.
Though young, Elion remembered when her life was in danger. Most memories were lost, her mind a blank slate, but in that deep fear, she knew who had shown her warm kindness—and so trusted him from the depths of her heart.
“I'll grow up quick and help big bro constellation!”
“B-bro...?”
The utterly innocent nickname made Herien dizzy for a moment. Regardless of her feelings, she was increasingly astonished by the hero's rapid progress day by day.
Was it the influence of her supporting constellation?
It must be.
An Absolute like no other. Just belonging to his cult surely exerted no small effect. And she herself...
The Sword Saintess sensed not her original powers, but a foreign divine force. A vast, immeasurable warmth that instinctively inspired awe. Her body trembled at the Absolute's sanctity.
What if she truly wielded this power? Dungeons, knight orders—no problem at all. Even solo.
Should she blindly rejoice at suddenly gaining such immense strength? She didn't know how the agreement with her former constellation was made. Likely by hierarchy— no constellation towered over the Absolute in this era.
This era's people, including the Sword Saintess, lived alongside mythic beings. He'd closed hell's gates one day, then conquered worlds beyond with his cult. An unprecedented feat.
Then why.
Why had the Absolute once vanished before everyone? And why now did he mingle directly with humans in unprecedented ways?
Many questions lingered, but Herien was merely human.
“They're working hard.”
Far off, a little girl sparred with a wooden sword against a blue-haired beauty. Frail-looking, but one was hero material, the other the Sword Saintess. Their movements matched their reputations— extraordinary.
Dodging the hero's sword like a dance, parrying cleanly when needed— all while teaching, pointing out flaws with the wooden sword's tip.
Sorry to interrupt training, but now or never before things got busy again. I strolled toward them casually, letting them notice me naturally.
“...! Big bro God!”
A title blending two meanings. It made my head spin, but I just smiled back.
“We meet Father God.”
Beside her, the Sword Saintess greeted me with a thoughtful expression.
Today's target: her.
“Mind a quick chat?”
“Yeah!”
Not you. I stroked the clinging hero's blue hair.
“You talked with your original constellation, right?”
“...!”
Heir of the Lost Star. Bestowed superhuman power on the hero at a heavy price. And the chat-spamming villain. I'd gotten two devotees from him.
A one-sided deal ignoring their own wills— but utterly constellation-like.
“Confusing now, but you'll adjust soon.”
“I...”
“Questions?”
“Did my constellation... abandon me and the hero...?”
“Nah. You feel it too, right? That constellation energy inside you.”
Clear traces of the original owner, visible even to me. I'd traded, not stolen. My higher rank might obscure it a bit, but I hadn't saddled him with their responsibilities.
“I know your situations.”
Terminal illnesses, mental issues, side effects galore. Not just the hero—the Sword Saintess too.
“I'll take responsibility and heal that as best I can.”
Easy fixes under my care. Our cult wasn't built on divine power for nothing.
“Why... grant us such grace...?”
Herien eyed me inscrutably. But the real reason was too mercenary and pervy-sounding, so I borrowed a constellation perspective.
“You two are what I need.”
Constellation, ‘Lord of Dragons’ has recognized your presence.
Why, what. No lies. I hadn't threatened; they'd handed over the manpower unilaterally.
Wasn't this what you wanted?
Traded for my 'friendship'— holy sword and hero responsibilities. All easy for me, so I'd accepted.
Why'd he freak, anyway.
Looking back, those days were pretty embarrassing. But a meteor from the sky? Who wouldn't panic?
Game-wise, they were nuisances, but in reality, the hero and star kid faced harsh straits. That's why talk worked.
“So get along with us, live happily. Then you'll do great work.”
Herien stared piercingly for a long while, her face complex.
“Something wrong?”
“N-no. Just... you're so different from other constellations I knew.”
“I'm a bit of an oddball.”
Fundamentally different. In my old world, this life was unimaginable. Gather devotees, build our world. Progress and constellation rank stemmed from that core.
I stood and headed to the wall etched with our cult's emblem. They'd carved it into buildings already. Edmund's devotion shone through.
“Got tons to do, so I won't show up much, but stay here and raise this kid right.”
To-do list solidified after gifting Edmund my summoned holy spirits.
Ally nations.
Time to check on cult-allied nations I'd forgotten. My absence must've caused chaos. Attacks from other constellations? Despair city.
Headache already.
One step at a time, but worries nagged.
“Just give orders, and I'll aid you, Father God.”
“No. Raising Elion helps me.”
No need to dismantle hero XP sets. Hopefully, she'd train her frontline-ready.
“...I shall obey.”
Herien bowed deeply.
“Good. Keep it up.”
I turned, offering my hand. She hesitated, then clasped it gently.
A warm human touch. I cherished it.
Constellation, ‘Lord of Dragons’ is extremely furious at you!
“What the hell is this?”
As I wrapped up in Regarium, sudden message windows popped up. Seeing the constellation's name, an associated devotee came to mind.
Two thick horns sprouting from her head. A stout tail below the waist. Perfectly "dragonkin."
“But why suddenly.”
Flustered by the unprovoked rage— then the follow-up left me stunned.
Constellation, ‘Lord of Dragons’ roars for you to return his daughter, whom you abandoned!
Seemed some new misunderstanding had piled up.