Take Up the Sword as a Hero Once More, Elara
Night lay thick and dark. At the heart of the village stood a grotesquely opulent mansion.
Paradoxically, a statue of the Righteous Hero stood proudly before the front gate—yet the villagers spat every time they passed it.
A tower of deception raised from their own blood and sweat.
— Ptooey! Just look at those bastards living it up.
— Heroes in name only. It's nothing but a den of thugs!
The curses became invisible filth soaking into the mansion's thick walls.
The sanctuary that had once vowed to save the world had become an outlet for filthy desires.
And within it, even in the silence, someone was sharpening a blade while staring out at the darkness beyond the window.
"So... we're going to kill Elara, is that it?"
The black-haired man, Kurast, smirked as he drew an arrowhead from his belt.
The viciously sharp metal gleamed in the candlelight.
"What does everyone think?"
"...As if this is news."
Gaila, with his deep navy-blue hair, muttered while spinning a dagger deftly between his fingers.
"That bitch never shared our ideals anyway. Keeping her around was just a rattling piece of scrap metal."
"She's truly pitiful... Chosen, yet still scrambling to uphold some hollow cause."
The blonde saint, Lidia, whispered as if in prayer with her eyes closed.
But her blonde hair looked more stained with blood than holy, and a vile smile lingered in her half-lidded eyes.
"How fortunate... I prayed to the gods, and they answered that the heretic Elara must be purified."
Kurast stroked the fletching of his arrow and sneered.
"But why the sudden shift to 'murder'? Lillian, didn't you say you were just going to spy?"
At Kurast's question, Lillian crossed her legs and looked up at the ceiling.
Puffing on her pipe, she chewed over the humiliation she'd suffered yesterday.
Those dog bastards... I'd chew them up and spit them out if I could.
The brand of "idiot" that had been seared onto her forehead was gone now, but the burning sensation still lingered like phantom pain.
"...That bitch brought in a counselor. Said she was going to recover."
"Counseling? Ha, as if that could heal anyone. She still doesn't understand that true healing is only through my 'Healing'."
"I don't know. Apparently it's all the rage these days? Have you heard of 'Aris Mardia'?"
"...That cult-leader bastard who turns perfectly normal people into fanatics just by counseling them?"
Gaila snickered, scraping the tip of his dagger across the table with an unpleasant sound.
"What a goddamn joke of a faith..."
"...My, blasphemy is a grave sin, Gaila. Care to repent?"
"Shut up. Anyway, I won't stand for them making a comeback. If that crazy bitch gets her head on straight and returns to the Hero's Party..."
The air in the room froze for a moment.
Elara's return. It was the greatest obstacle threatening their decadent little kingdom.
"Yeah, she has to die... Heh heh. Should I just put an arrow through her heart right now?"
At Kurast's murderous joke, Lillian spat coldly.
"We'll end that bitch's pathetic hermit life, cut that worthless counselor's throat too... and make a perfect fresh start just among ourselves."
"Huh? The counselor too?"
"Why? Got a problem with that?"
Lillian crossed her legs and blew smoke toward the ceiling with a languid gaze.
As the faint smoke rose, Kurast laughed with a snicker.
"...Who cares who it is. If the righteous heroes say they're going to kill them, then so be it."
"More importantly, when are we going shopping?"
"I could use a drink. Some strong liquor tonight..."
But no sooner had their solemn declaration ended than they changed the subject as if nothing had happened.
A ragtag band of thugs. Yet even they shared a single common purpose.
Elara must die.
That was the only thread binding these rotten souls together.
Night had grown deep. After mulling over the gallery guys' advice from yesterday, I'd decided to change the setup for today's counseling session.
Not a closed-off room, but an open courtyard.
When I asked the old butler for permission, he readily cleared the yard for me—all thanks to his devoted loyalty to his mistress.
Swaaaaah—
The sound of wind brushing through the leaves. In the garden bathed in moonlight, blue fireflies danced like butterflies.
"I hope this goes well..."
Unlike the peaceful scenery, my insides were burning up.
Today was the watershed.
A direct confrontation with her PTSD.
How do I twist the logic so she'll take up the sword without resistance?
I was running through dozens of simulations in the cold night air when—
Crunch, crunch.
Light footsteps on the grass, and a sweet fragrance brushed my nose.
"Elara...?"
The woman who appeared was not the one I knew.
Instead of the usual heavy, antique dress, she wore a light, airy white one-piece that boldly revealed her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed as if she'd just finished bathing, and a faint rose scent drifted from her damp silver hair.
Spotting me, she tucked her hair behind her ear with a coquettish air and approached.
"Oh my, Doctor."
Playful eyes swept over me.
"You came out early? Were you waiting for me, by any chance?"
"...Yes. It was our appointment time."
"Heh? So stiff."
Elara circled around me. The hem of her one-piece, catching the moonlight, fluttered like flower petals.
"Hmm... Calling me out to an empty courtyard on a night like this."
She stopped right in front of me and tilted her head.
Was this the power of Affinity 53? She was overflowing with the ease of a woman, not a patient. Her lips curved seductively.
"Could it be..."
She spoke low, as if whispering into my ear.
"That you want to go on a date instead of counseling?"
"Y-Yes...? Ah, no."
A date? Of course I wanted one.
Honestly, I'd love to date a beauty like her all night long. But that wasn't the priority right now.
Ding.
Affinity 53. Trust stage breakthrough.
Elara is beginning to feel romantic attraction toward you!
...This game had dating-sim elements too, huh.
I was a lifelong virgin in reality, but here I'm popular? Dreams do come true.
"...Doctor, are you listening?"
"Ah, yes. I'm listening."
"Hmmm? Looks like you're spacing out... Well, fine. Anyway, calling me to the courtyard instead of the counseling room~"
She sidled closer as if to link arms with me.
"Is it because I beat Lillian yesterday and you're giving me a 'reward'? Hmm, what kind of reward could it be?"
Eyes full of expectation.
I had to betray that pure hope.
I opened my mouth with a deliberately blank expression.
"I'm sorry, but it's not a reward. I just wanted to talk somewhere open."
"Tch... Would it kill you to give a little praise?"
Elara pouted and perched on a garden bench. Crossing her legs and propping her chin, she watched me with interest.
"So, what are we going to talk about?"
"Let's play a game, you and I."
"A game?"
This was where it got real.
Time to dismantle her trauma.
"Yes. About this distance should be good."
"...?"
I stood about ten paces away from her.
"It's simple. When I ask a question, if it's affirmative, take one step closer. If negative, step back... and leave. That's today's counseling."
"...Heh, sounds fun."
"Then, would you stand up?"
Elara rose lightly from her seat.
I swallowed dryly.
I couldn't go too hard from the start. I had to approach gradually, like tightening a noose.
"First question."
"Yes."
"Did Elara win against Lillian yesterday?"
Elara snickered as if to say, Is that all?
"Of course."
One light step. The rose scent hit me.
"Second. Did that victory prove that you are white, not gray?"
"That's right."
Second step.
"Third. Did you realize that Lillian's logic was nothing more than a loser's thrashing?"
"Of course."
Third step.
Confidence overflowed on her face. Now it was time to flip the board.
"Fourth question."
My voice dropped low.
"Do you... know that Lillian will come again?"
Elara's steps faltered.
The playful face hardened in an instant.
— Zzt.
A faint tinnitus brushed my ears. A signal that a small crack had formed in her heart.
"...Elara?"
"...Affirmative."
Fourth step. But she was no longer smiling.
"Fifth."
I pressed her.
"Lillian won't come alone. She'll bring the main Hero's Party."
"...!"
— Zzzt, crackle.
The noise grew a little clearer. I could see Elara's shoulders trembling faintly.
"...That too, affirmative."
Fifth step.
She now stood right in front of me. The once-sweet rose scent had long since gone cold.
"Final question."
I stared straight into her wavering pupils.
"When they come... do you think you can stop them with just your 'logic' as it is now?"
— Cracklecracklecrackle!!!
A noise like a radio frequency going haywire burst in my ears. A clear warning. Elara's mental state was in turmoil.
"...!"
Elara couldn't open her mouth.
"If you answer yes, take one more step. If no, step back and leave."
Elara's face went deathly pale. The thrill of a date shattered into pieces.
She couldn't say yes. That would be a lie.
But if she said no, it would mean denying yesterday's victory and running away.
She froze as if nailed to the spot.
"You can't answer."
"...Isn't that a cowardly question?"
"What's cowardly isn't the question—it's reality. Yesterday Lillian attacked your mind. But the next ones will come to break your body."
I walked past her and picked up the thing I'd hidden in a dark corner of the courtyard.
A dusty old wooden sword.
"And this."
I tossed the wooden sword at her feet with a thud.
Thud.
A dull sound echoed on the dirt. Elara's gaze dropped to the ground.
— Beeeeeeeeeep!!!!!!
In that moment, a sharp high-frequency tone exploded as if to tear my mind apart.
The subject's trauma is being extremely stimulated!
Psychological defense mechanisms are running wild!
Elara's breathing grew ragged. Her pupils contracted as if the wooden sword before her were a venomous snake.
I kept my expression calm despite the noise gouging at my ears.
No—I had to keep it calm.
"This is today's counseling on that cowardly reality."
"...Hic, uuh..."
Elara stepped back. Cold sweat ran down her temple.
I took another step closer, cutting off her escape.
"I'm not telling you to grip it as a hero."
"...!"
"As Elara, as yourself... as a means to stand against those gray bastards..."
I pointed at the wooden sword on the ground with my finger.
"Can you grip this 'wooden stick'?"
