Adventure Tales of the Retired Former Hero

In this world, beings known as heroes existed.

"You, human child blessed with talent greater than all others. Sophemia of the Sun, the Sole God of this continent, chooses you. Become the Hero and embark upon the journey of exorcism."

Endowed with an all-seeing eye that pierced through mortal potential, the god would promptly bestow the Hero's Blessing the moment her priests discovered a child possessing the requisite aptitude. Once anointed, a hero grew by leaps and bounds, viewing status windows and receiving quests just like a player.

And there was another thing.

A powerful privilege granted exclusively to heroes.

Namely, the ability to recruit other NPCs into their party simply by declaring, "You, become my comrade!"

Though the companions chosen by a god-chosen Hero were also called heroes by the common folk, they were fundamentally different from a true Hero. They could never receive the quests known as the Goddess's Guidance. That meant that whenever the true Hero died or their journey came to an end, their companions were left adrift, having no idea what purpose to strive toward.

The retired former Hero, Destroyer, was precisely one of those lost, imitation heroes.

"Aren't you exhausted? You were just abused by that lunatic statue bastard, weren't you?"

"Not at all! I took it easy and jogged on my way here."

Destroyer pulled out his professor's pocketwatch to inspect the student's training ledger. Rather than bearing a reprimand for skipping class, it was stamped with bonus ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠merits for keeping pace with the lecture and achieving stellar marks. She pushed her physical stamina to its absolute limits, yet her recovery rate bordered on unnatural.

'The so-called qualities of a hero... She possesses the bare minimum conditions for such a talent.'

What was more, she had not grimaced a single time; she genuinely looked as if she were having the time of her life. She possessed that distinctly masochistic mental fortitude unique ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to heroes, tackling grueling ordeals as though completing an enjoyable daily routine. It meant she was an exceptional talent in both mind and body.

'Above all, she pursues what she wants more clearly than anyone else. Just like a real hero.'

Her confident trajectory and decisive actions brought to mind the eccentricities displayed in the past by the former Hero, Nyarlathotep.

'That hero operated entirely at his own pace as well. Perhaps everyone truly loved by god shares that exact temperament?'

He shut his book with a dry snap, closing off the needlessly convoluted train of thought along with it.

"Very well. If you desire the lecture that badly, I shall give it to you."

"Hooray~"

Watching the little girl Orknodi clap her hands in unbridled delight, Professor Destroyer adopted a sour expression and began his tale.

"Adventure Tales of the Retired Former Hero is a course where I recount the bizarre, inexplicable occurrences a certain Hero Party witnessed, heard, and experienced firsthand during their journeys, and you must carry out assignments based on them. The first story to grace our inaugural lecture is The Undying Sheep. It is a grim riddle that chilled even seasoned veterans to the bone."

Destroyer cast his gaze into the distant past and began to speak.

Roughly fifteen years ago.

There was a village where shepherds gathered to graze their flocks across the meadows of a destitute, remote mountain valley. While formidable monsters lurked within the rugged terrain where humans rarely set foot, the fertile plains were plagued by the relentless extortion of feudal lords. Thus, shepherds who preferred to become neighbors with monsters rather than starve under high taxes had naturally banded together to form a settlement.

Having only recently registered their names with the guild, the fledgling Hero Party needed achievements far more than gold. To embark on a proper, grand adventure worthy of heroes, collecting several village savior titles to acquire the composite title of Reliever of Remote Villages was the fastest shortcut to ranking up in the Adventurers Guild.

"Could it be wolves?"

"Boring. We've already spotted wolf fur."

"Hm~ This request is quite intriguing."

The god-chosen Hero and shaman, Nyarlathotep.

His first companion and outstanding warrior, Alpha.

And his second companion, the universally cynical rogue, Destroyer.

The trio located the wolf den in short order. Of the twelve beasts that had gathered with their eyes set on the flock, they slew five and drove the remaining seven away. Yet something was profoundly amiss: every single wolf was so emaciated their ribcages protruded through their hides, and there was not a single trace of them ever successfully hunting a sheep.

"Is it another monster?"

"What a pain. There aren't any traces of other monsters around."

"Fascinating. Just as I expected. Heheh."

Nyarlathotep spoke up.

"Didn't anyone notice?"

"Notice what?"

"The monster."

"Are you suggesting it wasn't wolves, but human beings?"

"Destroyer's theory isn't bad, but there's a far more interesting detail. Why were there no traces of any other monsters? Especially when hundreds of appetizing sheep are roaming wide open in a remote village like this."

"Now that you mention it, that is strange. It would make sense if this were a domain where a lord routinely culled the monster population, but there's no way a refuge for fugitives evading their taxes would receive such protection."

The shepherds claimed to have no idea, and the inexperienced novice party, unable to reach the root of the problem, concluded the commission prematurely. They comforted themselves with the thought that since they had culled the wolves menacing the flock, the request was technically settled.

"To think I would return to this village ten years later."

A decade after the three had first walked those hills, Destroyer returned to the shepherds' settlement entirely alone. Having retired from his adventures and spent his days ruminating on the past, a stray memory had stirred his curiosity and pulled his footsteps back.

The notice board still bore a request seeking the cause of the missing sheep, and the village chief's face remained weighed down by profound despair.

"Wait."

Now a hardened veteran, Destroyer felt an intense, suffocating dissonance the moment he laid eyes upon the village. He resolved to pose a few inquiries to the chief. The chief replied that darkness was fast approaching, promising to answer only three questions before departing to attend to his duties.

"Now, it is freshman Orknodi's turn. Assume you have become the veteran hero Destroyer, and present three questions to the village chief. I shall answer them directly from his perspective."

Fascinating, just as expected.

The course took an unusual interactive format, having the student listen to a hero's exploits and roleplay as the protagonist to resolve the predicament. Coming right after an unmerciful physical beatdown, this was essentially a session of intellectual torment—which only made it sweeter for a seasoned hardcore gamer.

'Professor Destroyer's stories change with every single playthrough.'

Normally, a scenario might repeat at least once, yet the narrative somehow shifted each time. And every variation proved remarkably gripping.

"The clues have already been laid out. This is a tale regarding 'The Undying Sheep.' The dissonance the Hero felt must be related to the flock. Furthermore, the fact that the identical request remained posted ten years later implies the root cause was never resolved."

Destroyer scratched his beard, eyeing her with an amused look that said, 'Look at this brat.'

"Are the shepherds the exact same people from back then?"

"Is that your question to the chief?"

"Yes."

"Then the chief would answer thusly: 'Most of them abandoned the village, and new shepherds arrived to take their places.'"

A valuable answer indeed.

"It seems the newcomers were completely oblivious to what was transpiring in the village. The feudal lord remained in the dark as well. Whatever took place here was carried out with absolute secrecy."

Orknodi raised her index and middle fingers together.

"Here is my second question. Over the past ten years, how many adventurers accepted the commission, how did they resolve it, and what was their survival rate?"

"'The compensation was far too modest for anyone to travel all the way into these secluded mountains, so we were lucky if one or two came by each year. Some hunted the nearby beasts or monsters, while others instructed us on how to erect palisades and plant briar thickets. Occasionally, there were adventurers who vanished into the wilderness and never returned, perhaps crossing paths with beasts deeper in the woods.'"

"May I inspect the commission notice?"

"Is that your third question?"

"Hmm... nope! I figured I could look at the latest notice posted in the village without expending a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠question."

"Fair enough. Take this."

The professor reached into his coat and withdrew a laminated sheet of parchment. What had been a blank white page when pulled out shifted into a weathered adventurer's requisition sheet the moment it changed hands.

To an ordinary player, it was easy to dismiss this as just another repeatable quest, but this was a lived experience belonging to an NPC Hero Party. There had to be a reason why such a nonsensical quest persisted over a decade. Most tellingly, the reward had increased. In an impoverished settlement where the head count of sheep stayed the same and the original inhabitants had mostly fled, paying out such a hefty reward time and time again was absurdly lavish.

"My final question: Who is the merchant purchasing sheep from this village, and when can I meet him?"

"'A fellow named Benjamin. You'll be able to see him soon once winter arrives. Do you intend to stay until then?'"

That was all she needed.

"Those are all the questions. Afterward, Destroyer took a stroll around the settlement and solved ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the incident. Can freshman Orknodi resolve it as well?"

"Let me check just one thing first."

"What do you wish to inspect while walking through the village?"

"I want to examine the sheep directly."

"Then you would witness this: sheep lying sprawled across the pastures asleep, others standing stock-still like statues, a few waddling clumsily about, and the tranquil daily life of the shepherds."

Well, fitting for an introductory lecture, the puzzle was not overly taxing.

"None of those sheep were grazing on grass, were they?"

"You've caught on."

"May I give the answer?"

"By all means."

"What decreased in the beginning might have truly been sheep, but as time passed, what actually vanished were the shepherds. And to avoid leaving a trail for visiting adventurers to uncover, they exercised a truly gruesome stroke of ingenuity."

"And what ingenuity was that?"

"They sewed human corpses and missing persons inside the pelts of the sheep."

Destroyer's lips pulled back into a broad grin.

"Correct."