The Hero (1)

I was fucked.

Not just fucked — completely, utterly, spectacularly fucked.

"Hey, uh. Rina...?"

"Hmph."

Rina was sulking. Hard.

Ugh. She turned her head the second I spoke to her. That was some next-level sulking.

She was the head maid of the Termin family, the territory's chief administrator, and the second-most powerful person in Termin Territory. Her being this pissed off was not something I could just shrug off.

If Rina went on strike over this, we were genuinely in trouble.

I was a veteran, sure — but a veteran of Crack Kingdom. When it came to housework and actual labor, I was a total amateur. I had Offen Termin's memories and experience, but the original Offen had spent his entire life sitting at a desk studying to become a Benos Kingdom official. He was useless for practical work.

Which meant all I could do was sit at a desk and give orders, while Rina served as my arms and legs, carrying those orders out. If she went on strike, I'd be left with my limbs cut off. And that would be a real disaster — I already had more than enough on my plate. Rina could not go on strike!

You could argue that a family head who couldn't even manage one maid was pathetic, but Rina's sulking was entirely my fault. With Rina — who was basically family — I'd brushed off the missile story with some half-assed excuse because explaining it was a hassle. Then I'd gone and explained every last detail to Rien, whom I'd just met for the first time. Of course Rina was furious.

The fault was mine. Even if she went on strike, I had no right to complain.

"Rina, I'm sorry."

In the end, the best thing I could do was apologize. I quickly stepped around to face the direction she'd turned and offered a sincere apology.

She still wouldn't meet my eyes, but at least this time she didn't turn away.

"...What exactly are you sorry for?"

Still avoiding my gaze, Rina asked in a voice that was ice-cold and completely flat. What came out of her mouth was the single most terrifying question a man can hear from a woman: What did you do wrong?

But I knew exactly what I'd done wrong, so I answered the moment she asked.

"I decided on my own that you wouldn't be able to handle this."

Rien was strong, righteous, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a hero who could protect herself no matter what. Even if she learned about missiles — weapons that transcended both era and world — she wouldn't be in danger just for knowing. But Rina was different. She was, at most, the head maid of a tiny baronial house, and beyond basic self-defense she'd never learned how to fight. She was a civilian. If someone like her learned about the missiles, she could end up in real danger. Even setting the Great Rifts aside, this world was not an easy place to survive.

Yes, not wanting to bother explaining was part of it — but so was not wanting to put Rina at risk. I'd planned to tell her later, once Termin Territory had developed enough that the estate's security was solid and I could protect her myself. But then she'd seen the entire missile showcase I'd put on for Rien.

From her perspective, I'd clamped my mouth shut with my closest confidante while spilling everything — down to the color of my underwear — to General Rien, a superior I'd met that very day. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was basically a shameless flatterer. Of course she felt hurt.

"I'm sorry, Rina."

I closed my eyes and bowed my head to her. Rina was my partner and family for life, and I'd been far too careless with her. The last few days had been nonstop chaos, but that was never an excuse. Being busy didn't give you the right to hurt your family.

When I opened my eyes after that sincere apology, all I saw was the back of Rina's brown hair.

"Huh? Rina?"

She was bowing to me.

"I am the one who should apologize, Young Master."

Still bent at the waist, Rina delivered her apology in a calm, even voice.

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the one who messed up."

"No. My fault is greater. I am a maid who pledged her loyalty to you, Young Master, and yet I made my master bow his head over something as petty as feeling left out. That is a crime for which having my head cut off would not be unreasonable."

"What kind of terrifying thing are you saying?! Why would I cut off your head?!"

Even if Rina had committed a truly capital offense, I had zero intention of killing her. She was the last family I had left.

"First of all, stand up straight!"

I grabbed both of her shoulders with my hands and lifted her upright. Her bowed back rose without resistance, and I found myself looking into her brown eyes.

"Rina, I'm deciding this right here and now. Starting today, in my territory, mistakes don't care who you are. I hurt you, and that's why I apologized. Understood?"

Looking straight into eyes that no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠longer avoided mine, I apologized once more.

"I'm sorry, Rina. From now on, I won't shut you out just because something is dangerous. I'm going to trust you."

At my heartfelt apology, Rina's eyes went wide for a moment. Then she let out a shaky little breath and called my name.

"Hah... Young Master."

"Yeah?"

"Your decision not to tell me about the Incarnation of Destruction was not wrong. I was the one who was lacking."

"Rina..."

"So. So that you can trust me with anything and everything — I will devote myself to improving with everything I have."

Her brown eyes shone as she made her declaration.

"Rina, Head Maid of the Termin family, will without fail live up to your trust."

The moment she spoke those words, a translucent blue window appeared before my eyes.

"...So that I won't lose to a woman like that ever again."

The afternoon after Rien returned to the royal palace, the entire capital erupted into an uproar.

The ten Great Rifts — those catastrophes driving the world toward extinction, that no one could stand against. Word had spread that one of them, the Abyss of the Army, had been completely destroyed.

From the moment the Great Rifts first appeared, humanity had known nothing but overwhelming defeat. People who thought they had grown stronger by overcoming countless crises learned through the rifts just how arrogant they had been. Elite subjugation forces, advanced magecraft engineering, renowned heroes — all of them were ground to dust in an instant before the Great Rifts. Nothing humanity had built meant anything in the face of those abysses, and so humanity sank into despair.

And then, this very afternoon, news arrived that the Abyss of the Army ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had been destroyed.

That news was rain after a long drought — the first green shoot of hope. Humanity learned that the Great Rifts, which they had believed to be disasters beyond all resistance, were not invincible after all. More than that — they learned that these things could be broken not by divine judgment or natural disaster, but by human hands.

The Termin family, a tiny baronial house whose name no one had known until now, had destroyed the Abyss of the Army at enormous cost and sacrifice.

When people first read that in the newspaper, their instinctive reaction was That can't be right — but once they learned the source of the information was Rien of the Gale, one of the Kingdom's Ten Swords, they accepted it.

And so, throughout the capital, news of the Abyss of the Army's destruction and praise for the Termin family rang out without end.

And that echo reached even her.

"...Termin."

In a small room where not a single ray of light entered, the Hero lay buried under her blankets — and she heard it too.