The Hero Who Defeated the Demon King
That was what Father said, and he beat me for every mistake I made.
I had never known anything of the world beyond the walls of that house, so I could not understand that what he did was something wrong. I only knew that the more I grew as a Hero, the more Father smiled — and in those moments, he was kind. So I wanted it.
And right up until the instant of his death, he left a curse upon me.
The truth is, I knew. I was a fool, but I was never that oblivious. I understood well enough that what I carried inside me was something far closer to obsession than to any real sense of justice.
But it was work that saved people. No one ever told me it was wrong. No one ever told me to stop. So I simply kept moving.
Saving people felt good. Being thanked was not a bad feeling. And yet I could not breathe.
I was never a Hero to begin with, was I?
The Goddess chose the wrong person. If all she had needed was someone capable of slaying the Demon King, then my being chosen would not have been strange. But I was never suited to the title of Hero.
I have no ideals. No convictions. No pride. All that lived in my chest was something like my dead father's ghost, clinging to me, ringing in my ears — you must become a Hero — and nothing else.
Saving people, becoming hope, even killing the Demon King: it would be no exaggeration to say I did it all because of that ghost's cursed whispering.
And yet.
You were always like that. You never looked at me as the Hero who had to become hope. You looked at me as Olivia Reinhardt.
All the pain and anguish of the past that I could only endure by remaining a Hero — and all the suffering I have to bear now — you force me back into being Olivia Reinhardt, and make it so I cannot endure them at all.
How twisted fate is. You, whom I discarded on a whim, for my own reasons, are the one standing beside the one who was thrown away. The person who looks after me more than anyone, who looks at me, who acknowledges me as a human being — and it is the person I abandoned.
In the end, I was a fake Hero. I may never have been the Hero people wanted in any true sense of the word. Everything was fake. My ideals. My convictions. My pride.
A Hero's death may not be permitted to someone for whom everything is counterfeit — but a death spent saving you. That much, surely, I could be allowed to wish for?
And yet you said:
A crack ran through my mind. Your words rang inside my skull. What did that mean, that it did not matter if I was a fake who could never be a Hero?
For someone who can never be a Hero, the only value I have left is throwing this life away to save someone. With a body that is already dying, would that not be a good enough death? It might be too fine an end for someone who has been as arrogant as I have — but I am allowed that much greed, am I not?
"You save people because you're a Hero!? That's wrong! Completely wrong!!"
Wrong?
I had believed I was a coward who had never possessed courage, and so had no right to speak the name of Hero. But a Hero is not something you become, and it is not something that is made.
A great many people had been grateful. And they had been smiling. And that, without question, had been beautiful.
Genuine goodwill, the kind that wells up from the heart — I could not understand a thing like that. I would never understand people who save others without any sense of duty at all. I was a long way from those who were saints down to the bone. I was a selfish child who had only been able to live kindly because something was wrong with her mind.
And yet you call me a Hero. No matter how much I deny it, you call me a Hero. You look at me as Olivia Reinhardt, and you do not refuse to call me one. You know my ugliness better than anyone. You know my weakness better than anyone. Better than anyone...
"Even if I'm a fake Hero."
I smiled.
My heart raced. Something burned hot from within — and then light unfurled through the dark.
"Holy Sword."
The Holy Sword hung before my eyes, and I started. Why was it here? I looked at the blade waiting in front of me as if telling me to take it, and murmured in a voice thick with tears.
"Once more...? Are you giving me another chance?"
A severed contract. I was no longer a Hero, or anything else. I had not been able to admit that to myself. I had already slain the Demon King. There was no need for this sword to be used by me. There was no guarantee I would only ever swing it for the right cause.
There would be plenty of people more suited to holding you than I am. If you ranked those fit to take up the Holy Sword, I would be near the bottom — nothing but a fragile child who never escaped her parent's trauma. A child who had only grown in body. And you were giving someone like me another chance? Was I allowed to hold you once more?
"......"
In silence, I closed my hand around the hilt.
"It's heavy."
As the Holy Sword's light faded, the divine brand was etched upon the back of her only remaining hand — a legitimate covenant, renewed.
I felt the weight of the Holy Sword.
"All this time, I never felt your weight at all."
I had only swung the blade. I had never understood what it meant to swing it. I may not be a human worthy of wielding you. I may not be suited to being a Hero in the slightest. But if you are giving me one more chance to hold you — I will try a little harder.
Even if I cannot acknowledge myself as a Hero, if so many people still call me one, if they still believe I am humanity's hope — then I will put on the act.
"I understand now."
No. I still might not understand at all.
The Holy Sword's power spread through my body, and my breathing began to ease. It was a strange sensation. The blade should have had no power to purge poison, and yet the God of Death Poison felt as though it were being driven back by the Holy Sword. My shaking vision found its focus.
In that newly sharpened sight, Lois was looking this way with a broken arm — and so was the High Demon. I could not remember its name. A hulking, muscle-bound High Demon, glaring at me.
"The Holy Sword!! So you're the Hero...!! Hahahaha!! What is that sorry state!? I can hardly believe that's the face of the Hero who killed even the Demon King!! But fortune smiles on me! If I devour the Hero, I will surely become one of the Seven Great Demons!! No — beyond that, I could even become the new Demon King!!"
"......"
Blood was still running down my body, and my condition was far from encouraging. A drawn-out fight was out of the question. But it was fine. It might have looked arrogant — as if I were looking down from somewhere far above — but the High Demon in front of me did not seem like it would take that much time.
"I may not be someone suited to being a Hero. But there's one thing I have over every Hero who came before me."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"Cutting things down."
I have no courage. But I have strength. So all of you courageous people fighting in this village — and you, Lois — lend me just a little of that courage. So that I might resemble even a fraction of your nobility and your goodness.
"Hoh. You think you can cut me in a body like that?! This fist of mine—!!"
"Mm. Cut you."
"......!"
No sound. Nothing at all. Only the result of having been cut.
The Holy Sword's strike had already split the High Demon's body. The demon who had been about to drive a fist into me went wide-eyed. His upper body was sliced clean away, and he died without ever properly understanding what had happened.
"Incredible. To think you'd take down a Named High Demon in a single blow."
"It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm just glad I managed to do it properly. Would it be too selfish to wish I'd done it a little sooner?"
"Well, they do say there's no end to human greed."
"Ah— khh."
"Livia!"
Blood spilled down, and I collapsed where I stood.
This is bad. I've lost too much blood... And the poison was spreading through my body. Did I push myself too hard?
On top of that, I had gone and formed a contract that drained a fair amount of stamina. Collapsing was probably inevitable.
"Look, Livia."
"......"
I could not see properly, but through the sky I could make out demons fleeing. Even if only Lower Demons remained, I had been thinking someone might still be sacrificed — but it seemed that once they realized their boss, the High Demon, had fallen, they turned tail and ran. If there was a silver lining, that was it.
Breathing hurt so much that my thoughts would not line up properly. And yet I did not feel that bad. The sky was clear, and looking at the sun like this felt like something I had not done in a very long time.
"You saved them again. You're incredible."
"Ah... no."
"......"
"The people saved me."
"......"
So many people's goodwill had allowed me to move once more. Their courage had reached me. I am a pathetic, cowardly, unremarkable human being — but their courage gave me just a little strength. It became the power that let me take a step I had not been able to take.
"Lois."
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"There's nothing I can do but thank you. ...I must be a nuisance."
"Well. These things happen, I suppose."
A person whose capacity I sometimes could not tell was large or small. I looked quietly at that Lois.
"Then can I ask one more thing?"
"What is it?"
I took hold of Lois's shoulder and spoke through a fading consciousness.
"Don't tell anyone I'm a Hero... Got it...? Please..."
In the end, all I can make of you are childish, spoiled requests. I'm sorry. I really am sorry. But this doesn't feel that bad.
"Livia! Livia! ...My arm is broken, and you've gone and fainted on me!? Livia!"
That voice was the last thing I heard. I lost consciousness.