The Hero's Pathetic End and the Mage's Tears
Porter: Johann43
Vints finally woke up in the church, two days after the incident.
According to the high-ranking priest handling his treatment, there were hardly any lingering aftereffects considering how he'd squeezed every last drop of power from himself.
That guy Vints sure is lucky.
As the hero chosen by the Goddess, he's the protagonist of this world. Maybe the protagonist buff protected him. After all, protagonists always have better odds of surviving the bigger the crisis.
Anyway, thanks to Vints lying in bed for so long, I was able to wrap up the cleanup nice and tidy.
The hero's corpse was handed over safely to the guards. The charges against him were for murdering Vints's party's mage and priest.
The hero, now a cold corpse, couldn't spill any remaining secrets. He'd have to thank me from hell for that.
"Hero!"
We informed the priest and mage about the hero's death too. The priest burst into tears staring at the hero's gaunt, skeleton-like remains. She probably never imagined he'd end up like this.
The priest no longer had even a fingernail's worth of romantic feelings for him as a man, but her warm heart still mourned her former comrade's wretched end, tears flowing freely.
"Hero…."
The mage's reaction was different from the priest's. The hero's sudden death seemed too much for her brain to process. Staring blankly at his body with a dazed expression, she looked like she'd forgotten how to breathe.
"This can't be real. What the hell…."
Her worst fears had come true in the most brutal way right before her eyes. The mage, who always showed pluck and vitality whether in the dungeon or out, was just a frail, delicate woman in this moment.
Her body collapsed like a reed in the breeze, utterly drained. She looked like another corpse, just like the hero. I gently caught her shoulder to keep her from falling flat on her ass.
"Ah…."
Grief at its peak doesn't even produce tears. The mage didn't sob. She couldn't.
Her eyes, filled with chaos, swirled with a dark torrent of emotions. She was shedding her own silent tears.
"Why did this have to happen…."
I put on my most somber voice, acting for all I was worth. It was the toughest performance I'd given lately. Expressing the opposite of what I actually felt made my face hard to control. Luckily, neither the priest nor the mage had the composure to meet my eyes.
"Hey. If you've confirmed it, get lost."
A guard watching the body spoke in a cold tone.
The hero's crimes weren't light ones. Thanks to that, our party didn't have much time with his corpse. I had no desire to stare at the dead bastard's face any longer anyway, so I comforted the priest and mage.
"Priest, Mage. Let's head back to the inn for now."
"The hero's right there…."
"Right now, sorting out your feelings comes first."
"The hero's right there…."
The conversation with the mage wasn't going anywhere. Her voice was as scattered as her responses.
"The details can wait…."
"The hero's right there!"
The mage exploded. Her grief-filled heart, like a bullet without a target, wandered wildly through emotional turmoil before turning to rage.
She hurled her pointed hat to the ground and stomped on it viciously. It was violent behavior I'd never seen from her.
"Why!? Why is the hero lying there!? Why is the hero dead!?"
The sobbing priest, the raging mage, and the guards shooting us cold glares.
What a madhouse party. Calming this mess was my job.
"Sorry in advance."
"Let go! Porter! Put me down! The hero's right there! I can't leave!"
I scooped the mage up princess-style by force. She thrashed with all her might, but it was just cute struggling. I clamped down tight, leaving her no room to resist.
"Priest. Can you walk?"
"Sniff…! Sniff…! Y-Yes…!"
The priest was less shocked than the mage. She could manage on her own.
"Back to the inn."
"O-Okay…."
"Let go! Porter! I'm seriously pissed! You're gonna die later, you hear me!"
Carrying the shrieking mage, we returned to the inn.
People stared at us the whole way. But this level of commotion seemed pretty common in Wanderer's Village. Most just shrugged it off as everyday drama and lost interest.
I set the mage down on the bed. The moment I released her, her fist slammed into my face. I'd expected it, but I didn't dodge.
"You jerk! You jerk! You jerk! How could you!? The hero was right there!"
"I'm sorry. Hit me all you want until you're over it."
"You think that makes it okay!?"
Snarling with rage, the mage proved her words weren't empty by raining punches. For a girl, they were heavy and fast. She wasn't holding back.
She pummeled me for a good while, venting her raw emotions.
"You jerk! You jerk! You jerk…!"
Finally, gasping for breath, she stopped. Whether from exhaustion or realizing it was pointless, I couldn't tell.
Anyway, I could feel her anger deflating. Looked like playing sandbag had paid off.
"Mage."
I reached out to her. Time to comfort the grief-stricken woman. The best time to conquer a girl is when she's at her weakest.
"……."
The mage didn't dodge my hand. It landed safely on her blue hair.
Soft and fluffy like cat fur. She must take good care of it. The priest too—both have nice-smelling hair.
"Sob…! Sob…!"
Only then did the mage start crying. Just like the priest earlier, tears poured from her eyes like rain.
Tears cleanse emotions. If she had a good cry, she could finally wash away her lingering feelings for the hero.
"Waaah! Waaah!"
She bawled like a child. I held her gently, patting her back. She buried her face in my chest, soaking it with tears. This was the moment she let the hero go.
*-*-*
"Ugh…."
The mage stirred and woke. She'd passed out at some point; last night's memories were hazy. Her head was a total mess right now.
The hero was dead. His corpse had been shocking. Not just because someone she knew died—it was how pathetic he looked in the end.
The hero, always flashing cheerful smiles, had died looking like a gutter thug from a slum. Even his shadow in life had been brighter.
She could vaguely guess where he'd hidden from the party and what he'd been up to.
"Awake?"
The porter's voice came from right beside her. The mage jolted up in surprise.
"P-Porter!?"
"Looks like it."
He was lying right next to her, still in his outside clothes. The damp stain on his chest was probably from her tears.
"Why are you next to me!?"
"Didn't you beg me not to leave?"
"I-I did!?"
She had no memory of that. But she couldn't trust her recollections. She'd been half out of her mind—who knew what nonsense she'd spouted.
"You're too close!"
"Being close to a beauty like you is fine by me anytime."
"Even now you gotta say cringey crap like that? Ugh…! I feel so gross."
She must've crashed without washing up. The mage, who always bathed before bed for cleanliness, couldn't stand the grime.
Her clothes clung sticky with street dust. Her unwashed hair probably reeked too.
Worse, after bawling without washing her face, it was a disaster. Her eyes were surely puffy like a frog's.
"Ugh! Porter! Get out now!"
Too pathetic to let a guy see. She yelled at Johann.
"No thanks."
"What!?"
"Can't leave you alone like this. I'll stay by your side."
"I don't need your consideration! I'm gonna wash up! If you don't leave, I'll tell the priest you're cheating on her with me!"
Childish even for her. Johann found her reaction hilarious.
Is this what they call gap moe?
"My face is a total wreck! Porter! Look away right now! Ugh! This is the worst."
"Yeah, it's pretty messed up. You need a wash."
"I said don't look!"
The mage bolted to the bathroom. In the mirror, just as she'd feared, a hot mess stared back.
Her hair stuck out like a magpie's nest, face swollen like steamed buns. Tear and snot stains were still vivid.
"Ugh! Even I can't look at this."
She splashed cold water on her face first. The cool rinse cooled her overheated head too. As her jumbled emotions settled, she started recalling what she'd done to Johann.
"I was such a bitch…."
She needed to apologize to him. That was her first thought.