I'm Not a Hero

Zenovia kept apologizing to me right up until the end before she left.

"What is it?"

"Why the hell should I forgive her?"

Once a villain, always a villain. Sure, they say villains can reform, but my personal philosophy is that nothing short of death can fix one. No matter how many times they go to prison and get out, most criminals can't forget the pleasure of their crimes and end up eyeing them again. Rape, theft, murder, or even petty offenses—it's all the same. They ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠break the law. They betray trust. That pleasure acts like a drug with addictive pull for someone stuck in a mundane daily life.

And the most important part? Giving trust again to someone who's already shattered it once is just too damn exhausting.

"Exactly. But after patching that shit back together somehow and thinking everything's fine now, they go and smash it beyond repair all over again."

I don't want to be pathetic enough to cling to it anymore.

"Like I said before, I have zero intention of becoming some hero."

I might become a hero—er, a Yongsa—but a true hero? Not a chance in hell. I've long realized that a Yongsa and a hero sound similar but are worlds apart. A Yongsa just has to take down the Demon King. Ignore the side troubles, get support from the Empire and other kingdoms, and play the role of a machine focused solely on killing the Demon King.

But a hero? That's something else entirely. It's about mustering courage against villains or monsters stronger than yourself to protect others. It's a term coined for those selfless types who'd sacrifice their body, lifespan, or even soul for the sake of others.

"…Yeah."

It pisses me off. Yeah, in the past, I became a hero. Thanks to this sucker's instinct that couldn't ignore anyone in trouble, I earned the titles of Yongsa and hero… and it was pretty fun. Being praised by people didn't feel bad, but it wasn't enough to satisfy everything. Even if people respected me, even if my name went down in history, even if I took down Demon King executives and the Demon King himself… there were things that remained unfulfilled. And as a hero, I never got them. I searched until my dying breath, only realizing it at the very end.

"A hero's end is always tragedy."

No fairy-tale 'and they married the princess and lived happily ever after' happy endings for most. Happy-ending heroes are mostly fictional. Hercules, who nearly ascended to godhood, was tricked by his wife under sweet words into wearing clothes poisoned by the Hydra; he burned alive and fell off a cliff to his death. Hector, Achilles' great rival, met his end at Achilles' hands, his corpse dragged by chariot and desecrated—if Aphrodite hadn't protected him, that hero would've been devoured by wild dogs. And finally, my own life: Selected as Yongsa, I barely took down the executives and Demon King, only to have my beloved women stolen by my party members and get my heart pierced by the sword of the knight I loved, dying in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠end. Apparently, the other party members fell into ruin afterward too… but I just died without even that. No rewards as Yongsa, no glory, not even love—nothing achieved.

"This is how heroes end. So, you gods out there—what, you still want me to chase after being a hero?"

Yeah, I'm not becoming some hero. Never.

A week passed since Zenovia's memories returned, and I didn't run into her again during that time. The academy forced her into treatment, and naturally, she had no choice but to accept. Not only was it impossible for an Imperial Knight instructor to teach with just one arm, but for the academy, this wouldn't cost much anyway. They had a saintess candidate as a student, after all.

But on the day her treatment ended, exactly a week later.

"Sorry."

"I'm sorry."

"…Fuck."

The saintess and her showed up together to apologize. Seeing them both bow their heads made my head throb. What the hell did they expect me to do?

"Forget it. I'll accept your apologies, so just get out. Please."

"…Let us atone."

"Ah, for fuck's sake… get out!!!"

My emotions won't settle down on command. My head tells me to ignore them, but my body's screaming and lashing out instead.

"…You can do whatever you want to us, Lian. We've done enough to deserve it."

"Shut up!!"

My emotions surged, mana should've roiled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in response, but the mana force circuits filled with Skaya's mana didn't budge an inch. Instead, purple curse energy erupted from the ring in its place.

"Nero?"

Was it because the curse erupted? Nero's voice echoed in my brain.

"…Annoying."

"Those bitches."

"No, don't kill them."

I can't forgive killing. They'd escaped through death. Believed their betrayal was a lie through death, started a new life with hope. I won't even give them that kind of hope.

"Nero, you've gotten to the point where you can handle curses a bit now, right?"

That's right… this should keep them from ever approaching me again. The tiny Nero climbed onto my shoulder, gathering the curse into a single ritual formula.

Just like last time, Nero's curse had zero control over its power, steadily growing in intensity and volume. But fortunately, this wasn't an attack curse targeting the physical—it messed with the mind, so no raw destructive force. Just an ominously gathering malediction.

"…!!"

"…Yeah, do whatever."

Prin flinched and started trembling in fear, while Zenovia calmly steeled herself for whatever punishment was coming her way. They both seemed worried about death ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from the curse, but no need.

"Trauma."

Nero's curse split into two and spread instantly toward Prin and Zenovia, burrowing into their bodies.

"……?"

"……?"

They both realized the curse had entered them but couldn't figure out why they were unharmed. This curse takes a long time to activate. Obviously. Extracting trauma through a curse takes time, and those two probably had memories from at least the third round—not as many as me, but enough that applying it would need a bit.

"Ah…."

About a minute later, the reaction hit Prin first. Zenovia, having lived past sixty in her first life, took a bit longer.

"Aah… Aaaaahhh!!!!!"

"No!! Don't do it!!!! Please, I beg you!!!!!!"

"Whoa, the reaction's worse than I thought."

I figured she'd have some trauma from keep trying to apologize to me, but damn, it's hitting harder than expected. Prin convulsed, tears and snot streaming down her face. Glancing at Zenovia, she was kneeling steadily, repeatedly apologizing to me.

"…No, she's got it."

No dramatic reaction like Prin's, but her eyes lost focus ages ago.

"Either her trauma isn't as bad as Prin's, or it's worse—so bad she can only keep repeating apologies like that."

Either way, doesn't matter to me.

"Rain, I'm off to the student council again today."

"Yes, take care."

"Yeah, yeah. Special treat today—no training, just playtime."

I'm just living my daily life, that's all.