Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The Hero Has Gone Far Away
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The Hero has gone very far away.
Fortunately, the coachman didn't recognize me.
No, was that even obvious?
There probably aren't many people who even know what the Hero looks like without his armor.
Maybe just the citizens living in the capital, the empire's high officials, or perhaps former knights. In this otherworld without the internet, it's incredibly hard to remember someone's face otherwise.
And after countless tortures, my once muscle-packed body had become terribly emaciated. With unkempt hair, a beard, and dark circles under my eyes, even those who knew me would have trouble recognizing me now.
Clop-clop—
Before I knew it, the carriage had arrived at the capital's gate. It stopped for identity checks as the guards inspected us.
"...Who's that person inside?"
"A passenger."
The coachman replied as if wondering what the problem was, and the guard slowly opened the carriage door to peer at my face.
Marco, who had only recently been assigned to gate duty, was full of discipline. He scanned my homeless-like appearance and slowly extended his hand.
"...Hand over your identification."
"......"
Marco took my ID without a word.
The moment he saw it, he froze in place, then bowed repeatedly with his waist bent at ninety degrees.
"...S-Sorry!!"
A golden ID.
The instant he spotted that ID—which the emperor personally bestowed only on national heroes or royalty—he apologized without even checking the name.
He didn't know why I looked like this, but if even the slightest conflict arose, it would undoubtedly be his fault. So Marco hurriedly opened the gate.
"...H-Have a pleasant trip!!"
"...I'd like that."
"......F-Farewell!!"
Marco kept bowing toward the carriage until it vanished from sight, then patted his chest in relief.
"...Whew, I almost got in deep shit there for no reason."
[Sorry, I can't go through the rough Arden Forest.... If you go just a little further, there's a village nearby. Shall I guide you there?]
[...No need. Here, take this money.]
[...Uh, two gold coins is way too much—even one would be plenty... The ride was bumpy, and if I was rude somehow...]
[...No need to stand on ceremony. Take the fare. Come on.]
[......]
Splash—
Splash—
I washed my face by the riverbank and quietly gazed at my reflection in the water.
It was an appearance that would raise suspicions even at the relatively lax exit inspections.
...Should I shave? I considered it, but until the curse was fully lifted, this look might actually be more convenient.
If anyone recognized me, they'd have to be at least knight-level to do anything—and even then, I'd end up screaming in agony.
I wedged my golden ID under a rock in the riverbed and snapped it shut.
As handy as it was, using it too much would lead to tracking, and I'd end up with surveillance.
I strolled along the Arden Forest path, heading slowly toward the village lights in the distance.
I didn't feel like running.
The chirping of grasshoppers and crickets all around.
And the grass-scented breeze soothed my mind like nothing else.
At seventeen, I'd fallen into this otherworld and spent three years barely sleeping five hours a day to hunt the Demon King. The remaining three years in prison? No point talking about it—I'd just get a sore mouth.
Maybe that's why this leisure felt like sweet drugs to me.
After enjoying it for a good while, I hurried my steps, realizing I'd miss a bed if I reached the village too late.
What I arrived at wasn't the village, but a fairly large cabin.
I'd followed the lights, but considering the campfire traces and the place's look, it was probably a hunter's home.
In the distance, a young boy spotted me and dashed inside.
Moments later, a sturdy-built man and a woman who seemed to be his wife slowly opened the door and approached.
"Who are you? Walking alone through Arden Forest at night could get you attacked by wild beasts."
"...A traveler. Do you know where the nearest big town is?"
"A town? Keep going straight down that path over there, and you'll hit a city."
They seemed friendly at first glance.
I didn't want to impose, so I thanked them and started down the path as directed—when the woman, who looked like the wife, gently stopped me.
"...Walking through the forest at night is incredibly dangerous. Dear? Give this man a room."
"...What if he's dangerous...?"
"Simon, if we send him away, Gaia will punish us."
Unable to argue, the man shrugged and approached me slowly.
"Hey, buddy. Stay the night at our place. On second thought, Arden Forest at night is pretty risky. We're grilling bacon—want some?"
He poured me wine and insisted I drink.
I pretended to resist and downed one glass. Simon laughed heartily and started sharing some pretty entertaining stories.
He'd seen a half-elf once, or run into an S-rank adventurer in Arden Forest, things like that....
I listened along, then chimed in on the elf topic.
"Simon, do you know why elves hate half-elves?"
"Huh? Yeah, I wonder. Can't figure out why they'd hate them just for having half-human blood."
I made an amused face and slowly shared the story I'd heard directly from an elf.
"It's because of elves' lifespans. Think about it. Elves can live over a thousand years if they don't die. Humans, who barely make it to a hundred, must feel like pet dogs to them."
"...Oh? Yeah, the dog I raised died before fifteen. But what does that have to do with it?"
Simon urged me on, clearly intrigued.
"That's it. From an elf's perspective, half-elves are like something born from the uncomfortable gap between humans and dogs."
"Pfft-haha!! That's hilarious. I've run into elves now and then, but that's a first."
Chloe, Simon's wife, gently covered her son's ears. The boy protested in a sulky voice.
"Mom, I'm an adult now—I had my coming-of-age rite. Even the great Conqueror King conquered a nation at sixteen, like me."
With that, the son, Neville, shook his father's shoulder and threw a tantrum.
"Dad, take me to the Adventurer's Guild tomorrow. I don't wanna be a hunter..."
"Aww? What's wrong with being a hunter? And Neville, if you went into a dungeon, you'd piss yourself at the sight of an orc in five seconds flat."
"......Tch."
Bang!!
Neville slammed the door and stormed out of the cabin in a huff.
"...Tsk. Sorry about that—we were having a fun chat after so long."
"No problem. Your son wants to be an adventurer?"
When I asked curiously, Simon sighed and vented.
"Yeah. He's been singing that tune since before his coming-of-age rite... Oh, you're an adventurer too, right? What rank?"
"...D-rank."
"Hmm, not bad. Before I became a hunter, I was a D-rank adventurer myself. Back then, I was full of youthful vigor, so I tanked up front in parties for dungeons..."
He trailed off wistfully, lost in thought, then slowly showed me his neck.
A nasty scar, clearly from something serious.
He began explaining it slowly.
"One more centimeter in, and I wouldn't be here today. You know as an adventurer, right? B- or A-rankers can play it safe, but below that, you have no choice but to risk your life."
I nodded slowly, and Simon looked at me earnestly.
"...You said you're heading to the Adventurer's Guild in the city. Mind taking my son along the way?"
"......."
I shook my head firmly.
"I get what you're saying, but it's too dangerous. Dungeons aren't something a sixteen-year-old newbie can handle—you know that."
Simon nodded.
"I do. But better he learns a lesson risking death with someone than running off alone, dying, or crawling back half-crippled."
"........"
I sighed and nodded slowly.
"Joining an E-rank dungeon? Please show your adventurer ID."
The Adventurer's Guild receptionist guided us with a friendly sales smile.
I pressed down on Neville's head—he'd been ogling Aris's chest—and showed my temporary ID.
"Yes, two E-rank adventurers registered. May Gaia's blessing be with you!"
As we left the guild, Neville glanced at Aris and whispered to me slyly.
"Bro, that big sis is super pretty, right?"
"...Dunno."
Unhappy with my lukewarm reply, he went quiet for a bit, then spoke up again.
"Anyway, we're heading into the dungeon now, yeah? E-rank's too easy, isn't it? We should at least do D-rank..."
Neville's confidence crumbled exactly five minutes after entering the dungeon.
Blood from the guy he'd been chatting with splattered across his face.
"...Urk... Hic... Sob..."
What is an E-rank adventurer party?
Neville must've gotten cocky seeing our party of five burly swordsmen, but that was a huge mistake.
Goblins.
Sure, individuals aren't strong. Even Simon could probably handle two.
But in a group?
No mage in an E-rank party to wipe them out at once.
Injuries and fatigue pile up, but no priest—not even basic potions to chug.
No shieldbearer investing in gear.
A knight who can use Aura? Maybe in an A-rank party if you're lucky.
Ultimately, E-rank parties are five swordsmen, which means no real party play.
Survival of the fittest.
The strong live; the weak die.
"...U-Uwaaaah!!!"
Slash—!
I gripped my sword in reverse and severed the lunging goblin's neck in one go.
Simon barely survived three near-death moments.
Not on his own, of course—I covered him.
"...Bleurgh... Blech......"
"Pathetic. This is how you wanna be an adventurer?"
"...Sob... Mom... Dad......"
"....."
When the dungeon clear ended and we exited with the one other survivor,
Neville was already gone.
I headed to the guild for my next quest—
And soon enough,
three months passed.