Episode 0-a. The Advancer (7)
In other words, this world follows only the footsteps of the Hero and the Saintess, their epic tale branching in but a single direction. There are stages left in the dark, unlit and unseen.
The Hero and Saintess pursue their goal—the one told in words. The sagas of heroes are made of unyielding fragments that cannot easily warp. In the end, their tale culminates in the fall of the Demon King, so the lights shine only on the path leading there, blazing bright.
Even that grows too long. The Hero's journey nears ten years, yet they haven't even brushed the hem of the Demon King's robe.
So that's all I knew, having barely read half the novel before I died. I might gripe about dying mid-read, but all I had were these tiny fragments.
And even those scraps felt precious to me, washed away and drifting as they were. I hoped they might serve as traces for the whitewashed signpost on the path I mean to tread.
Thus, I follow their footsteps, piecing together my own way from the hints. I revisit the settings and lore that popped up in passing, hunting for what I need.
I must face them head-on, explore them myself. Clash again and again, tumble down eventually.
Then rise once more and step into the unknown. That's what this journey is for from the start.
A vast world brimming with settings. And surely, traces of the gray hidden within.
I mean to uncover them, steer toward a different ending for the tale.
I had a habit. Not one I was born with, but one that spread like habit after thinking of a certain woman.
"…."
"Ain-hyung, kids here too!"
"Ain-oppa, looks like three. All skin and bones from starving."
So, this odd habit of skipping normal roads and alleys, always poking into backstreets.
"Two on my sides, you two carry the last one."
"“Yeah~”"
Wandering dim, stinking alleys, spotting sprawled kids, and quietly picking them up.
"Ah, no… wait, commoner. No room left at the orphanage…!"
"Build a new one then."
Everywhere, alleys are dark and damp-scented. Everywhere, they become homes for abandoned children.
"No, you told me to save money, but spending like this…."
"So leave 'em?"
"Ugh… of course not! I, Lucia Vicente Todorica Simeo, do not abandon the common folk! Give me one child! Embracing children is a noble's duty!"
I'd recall the tiny girl trembling through winter in some alley. I couldn't hold and nurture her like that forever, but now I couldn't just leave strays behind.
The stench wafts. The smell from unwashed kids' bodies—somehow familiar now.
Dazed faces look up. Faces that don't know salvation because they've only known abandonment—somehow nostalgic.
And.
"Let's go. To your new home."
"…, Ah."
The sigh slipping out at my words. That sad, bitter breath—somehow mine to bear.
Thus, I carefully scooped up the new kids and took them to the orphanage.
The city's only one in Bina, built at some noble's request—an idealistic, showy act of charity.
"Commoner, seems like you're fleecing us for more than the worth of saving my daughter."
"W-Well…. Thank you."
I bowed to my sole benefactor. Lucia Vi… Viscount Simeo, father of that Simeo girl.
"Enough. Saving commoners is a noble's duty, and granting a lowly commoner's plea is a noble's magnanimity!"
"As expected of Father! What stirring noble resolve! I, Lucia Vicente Todorica Simeo, am moved!"
Yeah, whatever. Sure.
"Hmph! I, Tripol Vicente Todorica Simeo, lead with noblesse oblige as a true noble! Emulate me, Lucia Vicente Todorica Simeo!"
"Yes, Father!!"
Just… father and daughter with that speech pattern. There's the clear source of Lucia-whatever-Simeo's weird noble shtick.
Other than that, Lucia's at least partly playing a role, but Viscount Simeo? Dead serious.
For that reason, even after seeing them countless times these past three years, I still don't know what to call it.
"What's that look, commoner?"
"…, Nothing. Just… please take care of the orphanage expansion."
Still, good people, no doubt. Meeting nobles this noble in this world? Like plucking stars from the sky.
Even if by chance, I'm grateful for the connection as I think that.
"Hmph! That's a noble's duty! While you're at it, the three commoners stopping by the manor—stay for lunch!"
"Hehe, it's a noble's duty! Commoners, eat and be off!"
"…."
So, in other words.
"Insolent! Answer at once, commoner!"
"Answer, commoner!"
"…, Yes. Most grateful."
Sigh, fuck. I shrink every time I enter this place. An hour of their "noble's duty" spiel? Torture.
Finishing lunch at the manor, I head back to the inn.
"Ugh… isn't it kinda chilly, Tori?"
"Warmer than the snow country, so tough it out, Yaki."
"Hehe, aiding shivering commoners is a noble's duty! I'll give you my outerwear… nyaa…. The weather's a bit chilly…."
The voices of the three trailing me tangle, making the darkening streets feel sticky.
Not snow-country cold, sure, but cool winds stir even in the duchy now. Seasons shift.
Gazing blankly at the high sky, I hear the tick-tick of time passing.
And that alone whispers, though it's been mere weeks since returning to the duchy, it's time to leave.
Time to advance.
Step forward.
Front foot sinks in mud? Extend the back one for another step.
That one sucked in too? Another step.
Creatures like me wither if we don't move. My goal slips farther if not chased urgently.
"…, Guess it's time to prep for the road again."
So I mutter, steeling myself to press on.
Of course, that's just for me.
"“Ehh…? It's only been a month since we got to the duchy?”"
"A cruel leader grinding poor commoners is unacceptable!"
Hearing my mumble, the two kids pout instantly, with the weird noble beside them going uuu-.
But. I got something to say too.
"Then stay in the duchy. Noble lady's staying anyway."
"Bueh… so heartless. Just whining a bit. Right, Tori?"
"Bueh… we'll follow anywhere."
"Bueh… even without being a noble lady, I, Lucia Vicente Todorica Simeo, find this too much!"
Still.
If I'd set a serious mood, maybe they'd take it seriously.
"…."
"“Bueeeh~”"
"Bueeeh~ desu wa!"
But these three tailing me have seriously childish minds. Kids aside, why's the noble like that? Idealists need a gear that only turns once, maybe.
Anyway.
Me and my companions gather in the inn's common room. They sit on the sofa, staring at me standing there.
Ridiculous—I'm their leader, these lacking folk I've gathered one by one.
"We might leave sooner than I thought."
I push down my nerves and speak. Promised to fulfill their dreams to recruit them, but haven't shared mine yet.
"A world without war… good. One without disease… good. Saving commoners from suffering? I'll make it happen. Even that old Horn's flame, whatever it is—I'll reignite it."
What gall. Promising the absurd from a mid-rank adventurer rolling in the mud, penniless.
No persuasion there. But they don't mock me.
They watch with eyes holding their own lights.
And I share mine.
"I'll change the world."
The truth I've hidden till now, my light.
"I'll make a world better than this one, for sure."
Its hue maybe dark, a bit murky and spread.
"I'll step forward for the gray."
This world calls it gray—all shun it.
But.
"Someone I must save."
I know. Gray shines iridescent too.
"Born gray, yet enduring, enduring to live normally."
Gray ripples beautifully, blooming its own hue.
I saw gray flutter normally, like any color.
So.
"I."
I'm certain.
"I'll make a world where she can live normally."
Asha. She was pure potential, my light and role to bloom her bud.
"My journey hunts those clues."
Watcher of gray, wanderer of the world. I fulfill that role.
Thus.
Gazes meet my words. Eyes unyielding, unshaken.
Uncommon folk, dreaming uncommon dreams.
Two orbs in my hand clack together as I speak.
Blurring reality and dream already.
Clack again, ringing clear.
Thus.
I sold dreams. Dreams of changing the world.
A mere novel side character, mid-rank adventurer.
Even so, I pulled out my full dream.
And began to sell it.
Side character. Background extra. Such a one crafts a landscape that never ends that way.
He seizes a role.
The small boy grew into a youth over time.
The youth with nothing seized a tiny piece in three years.
Inscribes his name on the world.
Ain. A new □□.
What he advanced to claim.
That new role.
Is the one who continues the journey for the gray.
Not self-bestowed like childish fancy, but seized by advancing.
Perhaps enough to change the world.
So advance.
Don't stop, continue the journey.
The journey for gray will shake the world's once-tipped scales again.
Firm letters, their ink will slowly bleed.
[The ink bleeds, the tale shifts.]