Athena Caladbolg
"Kyaaaaah!!"
"Gyaaaaaah!!"
Like leaves caught in a storm, the monsters were swept away by her magic.
A full month had passed.
On the battlefield, mountains of monster corpses had piled high, and rivers of their blood ran across the ground.
The endless tide of beasts that once stretched beyond sight had thinned at last, their numbers visibly dwindling.
It would all be over soon.
"My lady mage! We need help on the eastern front!"
At the soldier's plea for reinforcements, she mounted her horse and raced east.
In the span of that single month she had fought more battles than she could count, and her growth had been staggering.
Her magic had reached the Seventh Circle. The path into the ranks of Master swordsmen had opened before her.
In the entire history of the empire, not a single person of her age had ever climbed so high.
But she felt no joy at all.
All she wanted was to go home.
She cut down the endless waves of monsters and washed herself clean in blood. Day after day the same life repeated itself, and little by little her heart wore thin.
By now, no matter how savagely she tore the beasts apart—no matter how brutally her own comrades died beside her—she felt nothing.
Not glad. Not sad. Only the longing to return home.
Had the Goddess finally granted that wish of hers?
Before long, the battle ended in their victory.
"Wooooaaah—!!"
"We love you, Hero!!"
"Long live the Karaz Empire!!!"
On the road back to the empire, countless people flung bouquets of flowers and cheered her name.
Somewhere along the way, her epithet had changed. No longer the prodigy—she was now called the Hero of the Empire.
The Emperor promised to reward her for her deeds, and offered to bestow upon her a marquisate under any name she chose.
She had never given much thought to a name. She told him she would answer later, and hurried home.
Perhaps it was the month apart. She missed her mother terribly.
Surely the moment she opened that door, her mother would greet her with a bright smile.
But misfortune had other plans. Nothing of the sort awaited her.
When she returned home, only murky air and a reek of cheap tobacco sharp enough to make her scowl came out to meet her.
Anxious, she went deeper inside in search of her mother—and found a sight she could not believe.
The mother who had always smiled so warmly at her was lying in bed with a man she had never seen before.
Half out of her mind, she dragged the man out and began to beat him as if she meant to kill him.
"Gaaah!!"
"Ana!! What do you think you're doing!!"
Her mother tried to pull her off. Even so, she did not stop.
In the end, unable to restrain her, her mother raised a hand high—
Crack—
—and struck her hard across the cheek.
For the first time in her life, her mother had hit her. Stunned, she could only stare blankly at the floor. In that opening, her mother hustled the man out of the house.
When she came back to herself, she demanded an explanation. Who was that man? Had her mother really taken up smoking?
But the woman answered none of her questions. She simply stepped close, gathered her gently into her arms, and patted her back.
"You've worked so hard this past month, Ana. I'm sorry I couldn't welcome you properly."
"……"
After rolling through that hellish battlefield, she had waited so long for this gentle face of her mother's.
And yet somehow, she felt no happiness at all.
A year after that.
She was fifteen now, and so much had changed.
Her mother was no longer the kind, warm woman she had known.
She had become nothing but an ugly creature addicted to power, lusting after money and men.
Lately, word had it she had even taken up drugs.
And it was not only her mother who had changed.
She herself had changed a great deal.
Whether every feeling had simply worn away to nothing, she could no longer feel anything at all.
Even when she achieved new heights of power, even when she accomplished anything at all, there was no joy in it.
And unlike the days before, looking upon her mother's loveless face no longer made her sad.
Watching the woman sink so low there was nowhere left to fall, she found herself developing a loathing for humanity itself.
Her mother was a nuisance.
And not only her.
All the endless expectations and admiration aimed at her had become a nuisance as well.
Why.
Why do I have to fight like this for these people?
She did not know.
People believed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, that she would protect them.
It was laughable.
She had already achieved enough to repay the imperial court's favors many times over.
There was no longer any reason to fight for these people.
So she quit.
She informed the Emperor that from now on she would live as she pleased.
He was startled at first, but accepted her decision as though he understood. He only asked that she lend a hand now and then if trouble arose at the palace. That much was no burden, so she agreed.
Her shoulders felt lighter.
"How could you do this!!!!"
A woman with the same golden hair as her own shrieked.
Whether from the drugs or something else, her face was so wasted it could not even politely be called presentable.
Wincing at the noise, she answered with one eye half-shut.
She had quit because it was a bother.
At that, the woman flew into a frenzy and seized her by the collar, shaking her.
"If you quit!!! Who's going to pay the upkeep on this enormous mansion!! My jewels!! My clothes!!!"
Did this woman have any idea how shameless she was? The sight of her was so revolting it nearly made her gag.
Yes. It was time to settle accounts with her as well.
She no longer wanted to be bound to this woman by the name of family.
She ordered the maids and the butler to throw her out.
Hesitation filled their eyes—but the marquisate had been granted to her alone.
In the end, they had no choice but to obey.
Perhaps she had never imagined her own daughter would cast her aside. The foolish blonde woman stared at her in blank disbelief.
Then, as if the situation had finally sunk in, she rushed forward with trembling eyes and began to apologize over and over.
"A… Ana… M-Mommy's sorry… I-it was the drugs… Mommy must have lost her head for a moment…"
Pfft.
She could not help laughing at the sight.
It had been so long since she last laughed, and for it to come out like this was rather unpleasant—but what did it matter?
She kicked the woman clinging to her arm and sent her sprawling.
Shocked by the unexpected blow, the woman twisted her face into something demonic at the sight of her daughter's unyielding will, and began to scream.
"Y-you… how can you do this to your own mother!! Who raised you all this time!! Is this how you repay a parent's grace you could never finish paying back even in a lifetime?!!"
She no longer wanted to exchange another word.
She told the guards never to let the woman set foot near the mansion again, then turned her back and walked to her room.
Realizing it was far too late, the woman finally bared her true, ugly self.
"You heartless monster of a bitch!! I should have known from the day your father left and you didn't shed a single tear!!"
She thrashed with every ounce of human strength she had, weeping tears of blood—but in the end the guards seized her and dragged her outside.
"You unfilial little bitch!!! You'll never be happ—"
Bang—
The door slammed shut. The shrill, nagging voice vanished, and a quiet peace settled over the mansion.
Just as she had expected, even after casting out the woman who had been her mother with her own hands, she felt not a shred of guilt.
If anything, she felt relieved.
As though she had finally shrugged off a heavy burden.
She smiled at the long-forgotten feeling of pleasure, and the servants around her flinched in alarm.
She ignored them, laughing softly, savoring the joy.
And the next day, a considerable number of the household staff quit.
They said they had been terrified watching her cast out even her own parent with such open delight.
It was almost funny.
Only yesterday they had looked at her with eyes full of admiration—and in an instant they had flipped their attitudes like a hand turned over.
She snorted.
Yes. This was what humans were.
Evil by nature.
Weak. Selfish creatures.
They leaned on you as they pleased, expected as they pleased, and were disappointed as they pleased.
Any kindness they offered was nothing but hypocrisy.
The praise and admiration they heaped on her would reverse the moment she failed their expectations.
It was almost amusing, the way they seemed to think she had put herself up as collateral—that she would sacrifice herself for them no matter what.
Yes. Just like this man now rushing toward her with a desperate plea.
"Ah… aah…. Oh God… thank you, truly….. Hero, please—save our village!! The people are being slaughtered by demons!!"
The middle-aged man gasped for breath, tears streaming down his face.
She looked at him with a mocking sneer.
"Stop bothering me and get lost."
At her words, the hope flooding his face slowly curdled into despair.
In that darkened expression, she thought she even saw resentment directed at her.
Yes. Of course.
Ignoring the man as he stared at the ground and muttered hollowly to himself, she walked on toward the imperial palace.
"So. You've decided on a name?"
"Yeah."
The Emperor's brow furrowed.
No doubt because she had spoken to him so casually.
There was no longer any need to elevate him with honorifics.
He studied her eyes in silence for a long while, then let out a sigh.
"……Something must have changed in you."
"Something like that. What, does it bother you—being spoken to so familiarly by a kid like me?"
"It would be a lie to say it doesn't. But I believe a powerhouse of your caliber has earned that right."
"Hmph."
Surprisingly composed, the Emperor.
Perhaps that was why not just anyone could be a king.
He held out a hand toward her and asked,
"Well then—will you tell me your surname, Hero?"
"Caladbolg. Athena Caladbolg."
She answered without a shred of hesitation.
"Hmm? You mean to change your given name as well?"
"That's right."
The girl named Ana, who had chased after happiness, no longer existed.
She looked at him and smiled as she spoke.
"It's a name I don't need anymore."
She gazed up at the bright white moon risen high overhead.
As she deliberately dredged up the old memories she had buried and erased one by one, all that came out was a hollow laugh.
"Like mother, like daughter, is it."
Just as that woman had done, she had used people as she pleased, wounded them, and shattered them.
Did she even have the right to sneer at that woman?
With a hollow smile, she looked up at the sky and surrendered.
This was her punishment.
Punishment for so long ignoring other people's hearts as she pleased, and trampling them into ruin.
"…Yeah."
Paradoxically, the moment she let go completely, the chest that had been aching as if it would kill her began to settle.
This must have been the answer all along.
It was time to let go.
Of Hera.
And of her own utterly repulsive self.