War and Regression
It was ordinary. Compared to the other superhumans, my abilities and talents were nothing special. In the face of powers that could shatter mountains, cleave seas, and soar through the skies, I was utterly average.
Jealousy, resentment, self-loathing, rage... Negative emotions swirled in my heart, tormenting me. They crushed my arms, stripping away my will; they seized my legs, snuffing out any hope of moving forward; they slowly stained my soul black, corrupting me bit by bit.
All I could do was live the same time as everyone else and keep striving. But it didn't take long to realize that this wasn't my own resolve—it was inferiority born from others.
Still, I believed that someday I'd grow as strong as them, shining like those stars up high. Even in despair, I picked up my sword. Yet when I finally reached the end, I understood: the talents and abilities granted to me were ordinary.
Time was my weapon, the pain in my muscles my will, and the sword my friend and companion—proof that I was alive.
I dreamed. Of myself shining like those stars in the sky. A dream where I stood beside them without a shred of shame.
Before I knew it, my ordinariness had become a power lacking nothing compared to theirs, and my sword had reached a pinnacle no one else could touch.
Even in death, I had no regrets.
※ The world divides people into two categories: the good and the evil. People call the good heroes and the evil villains.
"Sword Saint."
"Ah. Hero."
As I sat in the barracks, gazing at my sword and lost in memories of the past, the Hero entered. A stunning woman with silver hair that glowed faintly. Her beauty was beyond words, the kind that made legends of nations pale in comparison. She was the Hero—not her real name, but her hero name.
I was just the Sword Saint, another hero name. If I had the skills to match... well, who knows. Maybe it was just because I was the only hero wielding a sword.
"Preparations for tomorrow's battle going well?"
"Of course. No need to ask twice, or it'll turn into nagging. You?"
"I'm always ready."
"I see."
Right now, heroes and villains were locked in war, centered around two figures.
On the hero side: the Hero.
On the villain side: the Demon King.
It sounded like a childish fantasy naming convention, but given the situation, it fit perfectly. So who was winning? Regrettably, the heroes were at a massive disadvantage.
Heroes had to protect people while fighting villains, but villains could just attack without a care. On top of that, certain higher-ups who should've died long ago clung to life like zombies, issuing stupid orders left and right. How could we not be losing?
The more I thought about it, the more irritated I got, and I clicked my tongue without realizing.
"...This will be the last battle."
"Will it."
"What’s with that dry response?"
Clearly displeased, the Hero pouted, her lips pursing in a sulky expression.
The Hero, of all people, getting upset over a curt reply. But considering what she endured, I could accept any tantrum she threw at me.
She was the Hero. The one everyone looked to, adored, and followed as the center of it all. Just like in fantasy novels, she truly played the role of the Hero.
If there were a Hero this strong in a story, it'd probably end in a happy-ever-after with a glowing chronicle. But damn reality didn't allow for such luxuries.
The Hero was strong and cool like in novels? She defeated the Demon King and lived happily? Bullshit of the highest order.
Defeat meant all the arrows of blame pointed at her. Any mistake, and she bore the brunt. Why? Because so many gathered around her. All hope and expectation focused on her.
So if she couldn't deliver, all the hate poured onto her. Why? That question was meaningless. There was a Hero among heroes, a Demon King among villains, and war had broken out.
It was a question that wouldn't resolve until the war ended.
"...Sword Saint. No, ajusshi."
"What, kid."
"...Can I lean on your shoulder?"
"No."
"Hate that. I'm doing it anyway."
"Then why ask..."
She pattered over, dragged a chair beside me, sat down, and thud rested her head on my shoulder.
After a moment of silence, the Hero murmured softly.
"...Ajusshi. What'll you do when the war ends?"
"Who knows if we'll even get that far. Looks like we'll be the ones ending."
"The more I look, the more depressing you get. Shouldn't you say something hopeful at a time like this?"
"Can't help it, it's my personality. Sorry."
"Wasn't fishing for an apology."
She bumped her head against me twice, acting spoiled. How did things end up like this? Simple answer: at first, the Hero had lots of people around her. Friends, allies, family.
But now, no one was left. All dead. Killed by villains, betrayed, or sacrificed to idiotic higher-up orders. Dead, dead, dead... until everyone was gone.
I was the last one who'd stuck around. That's how we ended up leaning on each other.
Not like I'd seduced a pretty girl out of madness.
"So you won't answer my question?"
"...All I see is us ending too. But... who knows. Not sure."
Nothing had ever been given to me from the start. No abilities, talents, or luck. Just plain ordinary.
So I worked. Worked myself to death chasing strength. Ignored everyone around me, pursued only power, walked my path alone.
I grew so strong no one could beat me, reached the top. But no one was by my side.
...Except the Hero now.
Maybe that's why nothing came to mind for after the war.
"Hate to say it, but... I was obsessed only with getting stronger. Envied heroes at the top, yearned to be like them. But it was too greedy. Fixated on that, I ignored everything else, let it all slip away, and ended up with nothing."
"I'm here?"
"...Yeah. Thank god for you."
"Hehe~ Really? Then ajusshi, sword or me? Which do you like? You're a total sword otaku, always staring at your blade."
"Sword otaku? I just stuck to one thing to get strong, and this is all that's left."
I slid the sword halfway from its sheath. After years of use, it felt awkward without it—like an old friend. We'd overcome countless ordeals, yet it gleamed without a single nick.
I didn't even know how I'd gotten it, but now it seemed like a sword among legendary blades.
"...Thinking back, I've cut through everything with this sword. Fire, water, earth... even abilities."
"Pfft. What? Next you'll say you sliced space-time."
"That'd be nice. If I were that strong..."
"Strong how?"
"...Never mind."
If I were that strong, your burden would've been lighter. You'd act strong in front, but behind, you wouldn't be the most wounded one. You'd say outright that it hurt, that it was tough.
But I kept it inside, unspoken.
"...Hmph. Boring. You're always so dull, ajusshi."
"Sorry for being antisocial. Go hang with someone your age instead of an old guy like me."
"Hmph. You change your personality. Why should I meet someone else?"
"Sigh. Fine, fine."
The Hero stood, stretching. I didn't see her expression as she leaned on me, but I hoped for even a small smile.
The war would end soon. With someone's defeat. Someone's victory.
I didn't know what came after, but... I hoped this kid would be happy.
"Anyway, enough spoiling. All set, Sword Saint?"
"Of course, Hero."
"Pfft. What’s with the serious face? Too funny."
Ah. She laughed. Maybe it was an illusion since I'd never seen her smile, but that grin looked the happiest.
I hoped that smile lingered even after the war...
Thinking that, I smiled faintly too.
"...Ajusshi?"
Why.
"...Ajusshi."
What's up, kid.
"Ajusshi, snap out of it. Ajusshi—no, Sword Saint!"
Why...
Cough.
"...Ah."
A dream? Or a flashback? My blurry vision cleared, and the scene from moments ago vanished.
My mind was hazy, on the verge of blacking out. What happened? Why me, all of a sudden?
This place... the battlefield? After everything ended.
Was I dying?
"Ajusshi, snap out of it. Don't die. I'll get mad if you do, okay?"
"...Uh..."
Words wouldn't come. I looked down—blood pouring from my body. Mouth, head, chest. Way too much for survival.
Chest pierced? That explained the emptiness. No way to survive this with healers all dead.
But Hero... you lived.
"He... ro...?"
"Yeah, ajusshi. It's me. See?"
"Ye...s... I... see... fine."
"You see but can't talk? Snap out of it."
Warm hands cupped my face. Was she crying? Water drops fell, wetting my body.
More importantly, the war? What happened? Did we lose after all...?
I needed to know, even if villains won.
"Wa... r... how...?"
"...We won."
"Won...?"
"Yeah. Ajusshi... you did it. Demon King... Demon King's dead."
"Ah... good..."
My foggy mind cleared a bit, memories surfacing. I slew the Demon King. Not the Hero—me.
With the central Demon King gone, villains lost will. Heroes, though fewer, surged with morale and turned the tide.
Not just this battlefield—the war would end in heroes' victory.
But me... Ah. Right. I took the Demon King's attack. In her place.
She almost died, but I did instead.
"...Good... then..."
"Don't talk! Blood keeps coming! Don't die!!! Hic!"
More drops fell. I strained to look up at the Hero. Blurry vision, but I saw her crying. Sobbing hard.
No strength left. But I reached out a hand. She leaned in, letting me stroke her cheek.
"Don’t... cry..."
"Y... yeah! Hic! I won't! Sob! So you too...!!"
The Hero couldn't finish. Just kept sobbing.
Don't cry. Why on this good day? Smile. You smile, I smile. Then others will too.
I swallowed blood. Forced my mind together, gazed at her.
"...Hero."
"...Yeah."
"Thanks."
You were my light. A warm ray. Because of you, I survived this brutal war. An ordinary guy like me could stand by your respected side and fight.
Sorry. Didn't hear what you wanted after the war. Sorry I didn't ask. I pray you find happiness without me.
Such thoughts, but unspoken...
I lost consciousness.
Thud. My hand fell limply. The Hero stared blankly at the Sword Saint.
"...Ajusshi?"
"..."
"Ajusshi, snap out of it."
"..."
"Ajusshi... Ajusshi! Sob! Ajusshi!!"
Clutching the Sword Saint, who gazed at her with unfocused eyes, the Hero sobbed.
.
.
.
.
.
The war ended, and the Sword Saint died.
Or so it seemed everything had ended...
"...What? Why... am I alive?"
I, who'd thought myself dead, opened my eyes again.
Ten years in the past—at age 24.