A New Hero

And now. Here.

Before the eyes of a man who had once dreamed, in the deepest part of his heart, of becoming a hero—a man who had chosen a mercenary's life and, even so, never once surrendered his integrity—

"I ask that you withdraw."

A new hero appeared.

"Ahh...!"

The hero's name was Yellow Dragon.

Five years ago he had fallen across the sky like a comet, and in a mere three months he had become first among the Continent's 10 Strongest. Whether because he accepted only named commissions, he seldom showed himself. Yet whenever he did, the great troubles grinding down the people vanished as if they had been wiped clean, and so there were those who said it with one voice.

"A hero...!!"

Mud had felt this once before, at the Hero's departure ceremony—that thrill that raised gooseflesh over his whole body. The instant the feeling returned, the words spilled out of him in a tearful mutter he never meant to voice.

"Ah, shit—I'm telling you to run, now...!!"

"...Eh?"

"If this keeps up we're both dead, mister, please get a grip and run, I'm begging you...!!"

"......Ehh?"

The hero's muttering bored straight into his ear.

"I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't—I'm dying, I'm actually dying...!!"

"Eek...!!"

A mad whisper only he could hear, and it snapped Mud's mind awake like a slap.

"Th-thank y—!!"

"Fucking hell, just go...!!"

"Y-yes, yes sir!"

Mud hauled his half-bowed waist upright and fled in a scramble. And as he ran, he thought.

A hero isn't so different from the rest of us.

He struggled the same way. He was afraid the same way. And, just the same... he had a foul mouth.

And yet, even so—

"What? Are you with the Eclipse too?"

"Korean cuisine."

"...What?"

"Do you know kimchi?"

"......Huh?"

—he set his will against injustice and carried it through, no matter what. That was why a man could be called a hero.

Hot tears spilled, his chest too full to hold them. If Lord Yellow Dragon saved his life today, then what had just happened would become the opening of a great heroic chronicle. And so, right now, he had to let the world know that a new hero had appeared.

His teeth ground together. Barely free of the terror of death, Mud turned on the cowering citizens and shouted.

"Don't be afraid—just hold on!! First among the Continent's 10 Strongest, the very strongest of them all! Lord Yellow Dragon has come to protect us!!! That's right...!!"

Ragged breath. A burning throat. Sweat streaming down his face. For a moment Mud forgot all of it. He gathered every scrap of strength he had and roared once more.

To some, perhaps, it would be a burdensome title. But that man would surely be pleased. And so, for his sake, Mud did not stop shouting.

So that when this was over, everyone would know his name.

......What is wrong with that lunatic?

Nahan, a hero before he had quite noticed it happening, watched Mud—who had only just managed to put about twenty meters between them—and muttered, very quietly.

"Please use that lung power to run faster."

He needed to run his own mouth a little and then bolt. Before his eyes, a system window burned red.

And the subject of that notice came toward him, the edge of her hand raised like a blade.

"Talking to yourself again? You've been spouting nonsense this whole time. You're stalling, aren't you?"

"If you knew, you might have let it slide."

At his even tone, disappointment flickered across the face behind the mask.

"I was going to. The one who ran off and the sparkly one both smell nice. But this time, I couldn't help it."

Behind the genuine regret, a murderous voice laid itself down.

"It's the Captain's order."

Emerald light bent in a crescent and spilled out past the mask. There was not a shred of doubt in it—an absolute loyalty, the faith of one who worships a broken god.

Subquest condition two. Do not let it be discovered that Black Wolf is Yellow Dragon.

In the plan he and Dalan had made, the one thing that mattered was buying time. The Ring of Iaso had, conveniently, restored a little of his stamina, so Nahan settled into a stance as if nothing at all were wrong, and asked her.

"The Captain's orders? I figured, the way you swarm around in a pack, that you were an organization after all."

"Aww. We're not really something you'd call an organization. We were all saved, and he even showed us the road ahead, so we just follow because we want to."

"......Is that so."

"That's how it is."

What Luna had just said was information the original story and the setting notes had mentioned only in passing. To grasp it completely he needed Black Wolf's memories, and those memories returned only when a related incident occurred.

...Right now, what matters is surviving, the subquest, and clearing the Emperor's named commission.

He decided to think about the rest later. If he died here, all of it would be worthless anyway. And right now, there was something he wanted to know more than any of that. Nahan checked something from the corner of his eye, then turned back to Luna.

"What order could you possibly have been given, to stage a massacre in the middle of the capital?"

I distinctly told them to go clean and repair the Black Wolf hideout. That was all.

"Mmm...... I can tell you, right? It's not like we're doing anything bad."

No. That is an extremely bad thing.

He stilled the lips that wanted to twitch, and Luna crouched to pick up Loren's severed head as she answered.

"Cleaning. And repairs."

"What?"

I'm sorry?

"These guys are all with the Eclipse, and... wait, no. You wouldn't know. Anyway, every last one of them is trash that sucks innocent people dry."

Huh?

"The Sewer Rats, too. The Fanatics, too. The ones we killed just now, all of them. One way or another, they were tied up with that trash. We'd identified them and we were waiting. Then, not long ago, the Captain told us to clean."

"......Well. Isn't it possible he simply meant cleaning, in the ordinary sense of the word?"

"Pfft! What are you even saying, that's hilarious! Cleaning is a code the Captain's been using forever! It's a hideout we were going to use for a bit and throw away—why would we clean it!"

Huuuh?

"Anyway, try to understand. Normally we pin down only the ones we're sure about, and when the order drops, we clean. We made a little mistake a while back, so he's been on edge."

"...A mistake?"

"We meant to rip them out by the root, but we weren't certain, so we left them. Well. As you can see, we found a whole pile of them and cleaned house."

I really did only tell them to clean, though?

Wait. Then don't tell me...

The Sewer Rats, and every bad ending he'd thought had been stopped on its own—all of them, these people?

As if she had read the thought, Luna let out a sigh and added one more thing.

"I thought it was strange. For a month now, every spare moment, he's been telling us to clean."

Right. That was me. That was absolutely me.

The bad endings. Those really are mine to stop.

Grasping his situation all over again, Nahan let out a low sigh. In that same moment there was a wet splat—Luna tossed Loren's head aside and asked:

"We good?"

"Good? Good how?"

"No regrets left now, even if you die. Right?"

A light foot stepped down into the pool of blood Loren had spilled.

...So that's why she told me.

Whatever information she handed over, once he was dead his mouth would stay shut.

Dalan?

He whipped his gaze around to check on Dalan, but words weren't getting through over there either. The old man looked to be having a considerable time of it.

The worst case we'd planned for.

Originally, while Nahan bought time, he had meant to send Dalan to Lactea—to pass it off as Black Wolf's will and make Black Wolf withdraw.

"My, but this is frustrating! You there, big fellow!! Did you not hear a word of what I just said!?"

"Cleaning. That comes first—yes, sir!!"

The impact detonated between them.

"Damn it all, this is maddening enough to drive a man insane!!"

Mindful of the citizens' eyes, Dalan couldn't convey what he meant, and he was losing the exchange for it. In the end Nahan looked over the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠subquest once more, so he could revise the plan.

As I thought. Of the three conditions, the most dangerous was the second.

Something settled in him. Nahan seized the greatsword in one hand, dragged it, and went toward Luna.

Condition two, the one most likely to fail him—he would break that one first.

A dry grind. The tip of the sword rasped along the ground, and Luna tensed before she knew she had.

...Yellow Dragon, he said?

This person was stronger than she had imagined. Far stronger. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠golden blow that had grazed her neck a moment ago was, at minimum, the equal of herself with her restraints released. No. Perhaps...

...he might even be as strong as Sister Lactea.

She had traded words as if she had room to spare, but in truth Luna was as tense as she had been only a handful of times in her life.

Without releasing the restraints, I can't even promise I'll win.

But the Captain was not here, and so she could not release them as she pleased. That was why she had even leaked a portion of what she knew, waiting for Lactea ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to join her. And yet—

Lactea only leaned against a chimney and stared blankly at the man called Yellow Dragon.

Luna did not know. She did not know that Lactea had already recognized the existence called Yellow Dragon as something above herself. And so the fear only deepened. If she met Yellow Dragon like this and died before her sister ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ever arrived—

......I might never see the Captain again.

Desperate green eyes were just about to beg help from the golden eyes looking down from the roof.

"Your attention is wandering."

"...!!"

The golden man drew close. Clank. Clank. Clank. The cold mesh of armor, and with it a dreadful pressure closed around Luna's body.

"...Come any closer and I'll kill you."

"Quiet. Focus on what I'm saying."

"I said I'd kill you."

Under a pressure that would already have killed an ordinary person, the man came on without a word. Clank. Clank. Clank. The sweeter the scent grew, the clearer the radiance became, and the scars that had once covered her face—gone now—began to itch.

"......I don't want to."

Past the mask, the corners of Luna's lips, a soft pink and until now locked stiff, crept upward. Anyone watching might have misunderstood. Luna was not smiling because she was happy.

Because she had to live. Because she remembered the days when she did not die only if she smiled brightly enough to satisfy that person. Crushed beneath the pressure pouring off Yellow Dragon, she had smiled without meaning to.

"I—I...!!"

Even breathing had become difficult. Luna, without realizing it, tried to step back—and then, with a clatter of metal, the golden man vanished from in front of her eyes.

An ambush!!

She hauled her mana up in a rush and swung for the blind spot. The air split, sharp and clean. That was all. She had not cut Yellow Dragon.

Psychological warfare, wrought from killing intent. A surprise attack that had already dismantled every option. He had even accounted for the counter.

I lost.

Any moment now the greatsword would come from somewhere she had not predicted, and before a single second passed she would be cut in two and dead. Luna closed her eyes.

Let's live, Luna. So that people like us are never born again.

I'm sorry, Captain. The promise—I don't think I can keep it.

If only, before I die, I could hold the Captain's hand one last time.

Was it because death was right in front of her? The end was strangely slow in coming.

What? Where is Yellow Dragon?

She forced open the eyes she had shut tight, and his voice reached her.

"I want to live."

......From below.

"...?"

Luna followed the sound without thinking and looked down. Yellow Dragon lay flat against the ground. Only his head was lifted, and from there he made his request.

"Spare me."

"......?"

"I'm asking you to spare me."

Luna stared at Yellow Dragon, who had changed his attitude without warning and plastered himself to the floor, and she thought: ...What is wrong with this bastard?

"Did the casual speech upset you? Then I apologize. Please spare me, Luna-noona."

......Seriously. What?

Unlike the dumbfounded Luna, Nahan smiled at the small status window floating inside his helm.

It worked. He'd bought himself a turn.

"......The Captain would never act like that."

The window surfaced, and in the same instant those golden eyes, gone cold again, left him.

Lactea really is the most dangerous one.

He had been playing Yellow Dragon, and not a single other person had doubted who he was. Lactea, though, had watched only him from the moment he arrived. He had slipped free of her suspicion by doing something Black Wolf would never have done.

I'll have to be more careful in front of Lactea.

He filed the new fact away and rose once more.

"......What kind of stunt was that?"

"The mood was far too grim, so I thought I'd loosen the tension. Played a little joke."

"Ha...! Someone like you, and I...!! How dare you toy with me. This time, I really will kill you!!"

Flustered, Luna opened the distance in a breath and set herself on guard. But he had seen how she carried herself until a moment ago, and from that he understood one thing.

She was terrified because she thought I was Yellow Dragon.

Black Wolf. Or Yellow Dragon. If he was honest, the man he was now was vastly weaker than either of them. A few skills and artifacts let him manage a fight, up to a point—but in the end he was only an ordinary person who had fallen into a novel. Strong skills and absurdly overpowered artifacts notwithstanding, taken as a whole he was lingering somewhere between C-rank and B-rank.

The gap between someone who had lived an entire life in this world and someone who had lived an entire life in Korea. In a fight, especially, that gap was an enormous disadvantage.

And yet that was precisely why. Just as the people of this place devoted their lives to the sword and to magic, he—who had come from over there—had one ability he had spent a lifetime honing.

"I hope you succeed this time."

Because if fear made her fail again—

"you really will die."

He sank into the performance and drew the greatsword. In that instant, Luna's hands began to shake.

"Damn it...!! Just what the hell are you...!!?"