Supporting the Forgotten Heroes
Getting hit by a truck and reincarnating as someone else in another world is a common occurrence.
What comes after is what truly matters.
It all depends on the kind of world you end up in.
What status you hold. What abilities you possess.
'At least my starting point isn't too bad...'
The romance fantasy novel A Flower on the Cliff.
Its foundation is classic fantasy, with romance at its core.
Magic carries considerable weight as well.
In most romance fantasies, the central focus is the romance itself, with magic serving as little more than seasoning to heighten the drama.
Generally speaking.
But A Flower on the Cliff is structured in two parts, and the battle scenes carry significant importance.
Because of that, mages casting spells, knights wielding aura and swordsmanship all appear frequently.
That's exactly the problem.
Frequent combat means constant danger.
In other words, there are far too many moments when your life hangs by a thread.
Just like in my previous life.
'But I survived, didn't I?'
One week ago.
The Species War that made up Part One had finally concluded.
I'd used every scrap of my knowledge from the original story along with my admittedly limited modern-person brain to its fullest extent.
I'd accomplished the feat of elevating a viscount family to the rank of count.
Thanks to that, my position as successor was now rock solid.
I'd been the only child to begin with, but it was still nice to have it confirmed.
Restoring supplies and infrastructure.
Dealing with the dead.
Distributing compensation—everyone was busy trying to recover from the losses, but our side had suffered relatively little damage.
The real problems were only just beginning.
I needed to block the tiny spark the timid, stingy, and petty emperor had thrown into the air.
The Species War had been fought with every nation united in a single purpose, which kept the casualties low. Part Two would be nothing like that.
The world would be torn apart even more viciously.
Sixty percent of the land destroyed.
Forty percent of the population dead.
It would be an absolute catastrophe, on the scale of a natural disaster, and avoiding it wouldn't be easy.
Prevention was the only real option.
"Father."
So I went looking for him.
The autonomy I'd gained was considerable, but it still had limits.
"What is it? You look terribly serious."
Tel Meyer, my father who had become a count, asked in a remarkably gentle voice.
"I have a request to make."
"A request. Given that expression, it must be something both difficult and troublesome."
"Yes."
I nodded obediently.
Even though this was only my second time around, he still knew me far too well because he was my father.
'Oh my~! Having two fathers must be wonderful. Oh, two mothers as well? How fantastic for you~.'
A sentence I'd definitely never heard suddenly floated through my mind.
It was extremely unpleasant.
Because of that, my expression grew even more rigid.
Father Tel seemed to misinterpret it, nodding with a grave face.
"Speak, then."
"I'd like to offer support to the Glachel Viscount family. They're in a very precarious state, aren't they?"
"Glachel. If it's the Glachel family... you mean the one that produced war heroes? They were promoted from baron to viscount this time, correct?"
I nodded.
It was precisely that family—whose title had risen but brought them no actual benefits.
"Yes. Everyone is preoccupied with postwar recovery, and the imperial family is no different. You know how the emperor is using that as an excuse to keep his purse strings tight, right?"
"Your disrespectful tone hasn't changed at all."
"Please consider it me acting spoiled in front of you, Father. I'm naturally cautious around others."
"Hmm..."
Tel let out a sigh.
He didn't get angry even though he knew I held no reverence for the emperor.
Our household had never been particularly respectful toward the throne.
"In simple terms, you want to treat heroes like actual heroes. Is that it?"
"Exactly. Please allow it."
In the past, during Joseon's Imjin War.
Volunteer armies had risen across the country.
Some were famous, others weren't, but every one of them had been a hero.
Yet when similar crises arose later, no heroes appeared.
Why?
Because there had been no rewards.
Despite fulfilling their duty, they'd been thrown away like old rags.
Of course, those people hadn't stepped forward seeking compensation.
They'd simply done it because the situation was dire.
They'd sacrificed their wealth and lives to protect their nation.
Yet the result had been ruined households.
Meaningless deaths.
An inescapable cycle of poverty.
Who would willingly step forward under those conditions?
'It's not easy. It's really not easy.'
The circumstances that triggered Part Two were much the same.
There were many reasons, but handing out nothing but a medal of honor before brushing them aside had been a major factor.
Even the country itself would want to give up.
"Your thinking is both correct and admirable. Do as you wish, but do not allow it to tilt the family's fortunes. You understand that, yes?"
After some consideration, Tel reached his decision.
It was only natural.
Donations were only possible when your own wallet had some breathing room.
"I'll keep it in mind."
I bowed my head in gratitude.
There were three war heroes.
In other words, three major enemies would appear in Part Two, but the Glachel family was on the verge of bankruptcy.
They were the most urgent case.
"Make certain they aren't sucked dry of every benefit and then discarded like used rags."
Just before I left.
Tel made the request in a voice heavy with pity.
It was pure sympathy.
I turned my back to him and bowed deeply.
With utmost respect.
"Hans! Where's Hans?"
The moment I stepped into the corridor, I raised my voice.
Now that permission had been granted, it was time to summon the man in charge and put him to work.
"Y-yes, Young Master!"
A young man in formal attire came sprinting from down the hall, looking flustered.
He was the assistant chief butler, directly under the head butler.
"You called for me?"
Hans asked, still catching his breath.
He hadn't quite shaken off the look of youth, still carrying the air of a minor.
In both his face and his voice.
"Yeah. Get the staff downstairs moving right now and have them pack supplies. As much as possible."
"Pardon? Are we evacuating somewhere?"
"We're making a donation. To the Glachel Viscount family."
"Excuse me?"
Hans's eyes widened comically.
He was so bewildered that his entire expression collapsed.
"I said we're making a donation. Father has already given permission, so prepare quickly. No questions."
"Y-yes... understood, Young Master."
"Hans. What am I going to do with you? How can the assistant chief butler look so dazed? Maybe we should start you over as a regular servant."
I delivered the slightly threatening joke to tighten discipline.
It worked—Hans immediately stiffened.
"I'm sorry. I'll prepare everything at once."
"Good. Get moving. Once it's ready, report back. Focus on food and essential resources as much as you can. Oh, and send one person immediately."
"Yes. A person? To where?"
Where else? It was obvious.
"Send them to Glachel. We can't just show up dragging supplies without warning. They'll be shocked. Notify them properly and politely."
"Ah...! Understood."
"Good. Dismissed."
Having said everything I needed to, I sent Hans on his way.
This was why power was so convenient.
Others could run around handling things while I stayed in my room and took a nap.
'Why is my heart racing like this?'
When I lay down on the bed, my chest was pounding.
I felt both excited and strangely thrilled.
Living in the midst of all that postwar chaos, I hadn't been able to make any contact with the main characters from A Flower on the Cliff.
They had been on the battlefield.
I had been stuck in the territory.
It was only natural that our paths hadn't crossed.
Thump.
Lying on the bed, I closed my eyes and listened.
The outside was noisy and bustling.
A sudden major task had been dropped on them, so they were probably losing their minds.
'Work hard, everyone.'
I fell asleep feeling exactly like that division commander who had complained about the mountain being annoying.
Sorry for running you all ragged, but we all need to survive together.
#
The night had grown deep.
Bright starlight sparkled as it illuminated the trees.
There was a blue moonlight as well.
It was quiet.
This was an outer region with no people, and not even animals could be heard.
Only grass, trees, and small wildflowers existed here.
Rustle.
A woman walked through the undergrowth.
Her sparkling green eyes were filled with melancholy.
The great war hero.
The Light Mage.
Even though she had received a commendation from the emperor himself, her reality refused to shine and remained only darkness.
It was far removed from glory.
Ever-increasing debt.
People who thanked her only when they were in danger, then immediately turned cold and demanded repayment.
Family members who resented her, then apologized.
When they needed soldiers, she was a daughter of the nation.
When she was injured, she was just your daughter.
She had grown deeply skeptical of this pattern—sucking out every benefit before throwing her away.
At first, she had been happy.
The war was over, so there would be no more death. Everyone had rejoiced, and her achievements had been recognized.
It had seemed like a perfect ending.
However.
That sparkling, glorious time had been all too brief.
When the cold reality arrived.
People revealed their true natures and began cleaning up the mess in ways that benefited only themselves.
She understood it well enough.
It was a time when everyone had lost so much.
She had thought it natural that they would struggle desperately to escape such a dark reality.
Even her own family had been the same.
Hands reached out, but no one actually helped.
Everyone turned away.
From slaves to commoners, barons, viscounts, counts, marquises, dukes, and even the emperor himself!
Not a single person offered assistance.
Not one.
Yet she couldn't bring herself to reach out to the friends who had been celebrated as heroes.
She was too sorry.
Too miserable.
'How cruel.'
The woman smiled with a hollow heart.
The eyes that had once sparkled with hope and aspiration gradually lost their light.
Dull and blurred.
The war hero Amelia was beautiful.
Alluring.
Her appearance alone was captivating enough to make any man desire her.
Nevertheless, she could neither take on debt nor marry.
She had no assets worth lending against.
And no one wanted to marry a monster.
A hero of the war.
The being everyone had needed during wartime was nothing more than a monster in this age of peace.
'Let's go back.'
Amelia emerged from the forest.
Even though she had often come alone to this forest on the outskirts of the territory whenever she felt afraid, it failed to soothe her heart this time.
She simply felt terribly tired.
Getting through today only meant tomorrow would come.
Getting through tomorrow only meant the day after would follow. The very thought felt like a nightmare.
But then.
"Miss! It's wonderful news!"
"Wonderful news?"
"Yes! Someone has sent word that they will support our family! They said they'll prepare as quickly as possible and visit soon!"
The empty household.
The butler who had remained until the end out of affection for Amelia delivered the ray of hope.
Amelia's eyes widened.