Beneath the Blinding Light
“Then let’s go.”
“Yeah.”
Our voices had taken on a solemn tone, enough to evoke memories of our final battle against the Demon King Thanatos. And coincidentally, the exchange was exactly the same as back then. These were the very words Rowell and I had spoken before opening that last door on the top floor of the Demon King’s castle.
The only differences were that our other companions had been waiting beside us then, and what awaited us now wasn’t the Demon King but those same companions we had fought alongside.
We stepped out of my house and walked only a few paces. Standing before the door of the house right next door, we looked at each other. It was as if we were once again on the verge of opening that final door. The memory surfaced, and I gave Rowell a quick hand signal.
‘If you charge in, I’ll cover you.’
Rowell responded in kind.
‘May the gods’ blessings be with us all.’
Having recreated the moment so perfectly, we burst into laughter at the same time.
“…Hah!”
“Hahaha!”
Together, we opened the door and stepped inside.
“Oh my. What’s so amusing that you’re both laughing like that?”
A woman as beautiful as a painting greeted us with a smile. Long golden hair reaching her waist, snow-white skin, and a hint of playfulness in her expression—this was Aegina, Princess of the Ayman Kingdom and the Golden Flash who had once snapped the right horn of the Demon King Thanatos with her bare hands. Of course, she was also Rowell’s wife now.
“Ah, we just suddenly remembered something from the past.”
I tried my best not to look at the set table as I hurried to sit down.
“The past? When?”
“Well……”
I realized my mistake and quickly tried to signal Rowell. But—
“Right before we opened the door to the Demon King’s chamber.”
I wanted to smack my own head. Why hadn’t I warned him beforehand? Regret wouldn’t change anything, though. Aegina’s face already wore that signature gentle smile of hers.
“Oh? And why did that particular memory come to mind just before opening a door?”
“N-no, it’s not like there was any special meaning……”
Rowell was scrambling to choose his words, but it was futile.
“Pardon? Why on earth would that memory surface right before opening a door?”
Her tone remained soft and her smile warm, yet her presence had already swallowed the entire room.
“Ah, no, it really didn’t mean anything……”
Rowell shot me a desperate look for help, but this time I could turn away. I would rather fight the Demon King again than deal with Aegina.
“…Very well. We’ll continue this conversation after the meal. And Anak!”
“Uh, yes?”
I straightened my back without thinking.
“…You’re no different.”
“…Right.”
Rowell and I could only exchange awkward smiles.
“Now then, let’s eat. I put in quite a bit of effort this time.”
“Y-yeah. Looks delicious.”
“R-right, it’s been a while.”
In truth, Aegina wasn’t bad at cooking. If anything, she was quite skilled. The problem was the ingredients.
“Ta-da!”
Aegina proudly whisked away the cloth covering the table. What appeared were dishes I never wanted to see again.
“Honeybee larva stew. Basilisk tail stir-fry. Cockatrice steam. Well? Don’t they look appetizing?”
Who knew when she had gathered these ingredients? Rare monster dishes that could never be found anywhere else now filled the table. Their names and appearances alone were enough to kill any appetite.
“……”
“……”
Rowell and I looked at each other and forced another smile.
Back when we were still adventuring, her cooking had been normal. She had used ordinary ingredients and made quite tasty meals.
…The real issue was getting lost in the Demon Forest.
With our supplies exhausted and no proper food in sight, we had no choice but to fight hunger before we could fight monsters. The infamous Demon Forest offered nothing edible no matter how hard we searched. When we finally reached our limit, we ended up resorting to the monsters that swarmed the area.
That was the beginning of this tragedy. Aegina had discovered a strange sense of challenge and accomplishment in using unusual ingredients, and ever since, most of her cooking had become like this.
“……”
Rowell steeled himself, picked up a honeybee larva glazed in sauce, and brought it to his mouth. Knowing my weak stomach couldn’t handle larvae, he was eating it in my place. We both knew what kind of scolding would follow if any dishes remained untouched by the end of the meal.
‘Thanks.’
I poured every ounce of gratitude I felt into my gaze and sent it to Rowell before reaching for the relatively safest option—the basilisk tail.
Basilisk tail was the one dish of hers I could actually stomach. Not that I liked it, but it was the least offensive.
Once cut, its appearance didn’t immediately reveal what it was, and the basilisk’s poison had been burned away during cooking, leaving no foul taste. Even I could eat this without much resistance. Though I would need plenty of sauce.
“Here.”
When I picked up a piece of basilisk tail, Aegina slid the sauce bowl toward me. Sometimes I wondered if the princess actually disliked us. Of course, that couldn’t be true.
“…Thank you.”
I dipped it generously and put it in my mouth. Aside from the sauce, it was just dry and chewy, but that was preferable. Stronger flavors only made the original ingredients more vivid in my mind, making it harder to swallow.
“……”
After thoroughly chewing and swallowing, I looked at Rowell. He had managed to down one larva but seemed unable to reach for another, simply staring at me. This silence couldn’t last. If it did, Aegina would surely pile more food onto our plates.
“Ahem. By the way, Rowell, how are your mother and father doing?”
“Ah, yes. They seem busy.”
Ever since Rowell became the hero who saved the world, Sir Levrant had been reinstated and was now assisting the King of Ayman Kingdom in Rowell’s stead. Sir Levrant’s swordsmanship and abilities were exceptional, but the kingdom needed someone to fill the void left by the departed hero. It helped deter unnecessary conflicts with neighboring nations and strengthened their diplomatic position.
“…But are you two really okay with this?”
The gloomy feeling that had brushed past me slipped out before I could stop it. The question itself wasn’t the problem. They had already made up their minds long before we saved the world, and I had asked this same question many times since.
The problem was my voice. Too much of what I truly felt had leaked into it.
“Of course we are.”
“Really, Anak. How long are you going to keep asking that?”
Fortunately, they brushed it off lightly. Or perhaps they were simply pretending not to notice. Either way, I forced a smile and reached for another piece of basilisk tail.
‘Yeah. Of course.’
Yet the feeling swirling in my chest refused to fade, no matter how many unappetizing dishes I forced down, and it lingered until the very end of the meal.
After dinner, I returned to my own house. I probably should have stayed longer after what had happened before the meal, but Aegina had seemed pleased by how much I had eaten compared to usual and granted me a pardon.
Thanks to that, Rowell would have to endure a slightly awkward situation alone, but it would likely turn romantic in the end. Leaving them be was better for everyone—especially me.
Back home, I sat on the edge of my bed.
Being with Rowell was always enjoyable. As I had said, he was like the sun. His mere presence illuminated everything around him and guided others toward the right path. No one could deny that the world’s escape from destruction, and even my own survival, were all thanks to him.
But at the same time, that brilliant light hurt my eyes. Even knowing I could never reach the heights he occupied, the light remained far too close.
He smiled at me, helped me, trusted me, and above all, treated me as an equal.
It was something to be grateful for. No, it was something to feel honored by.
Someone like him should have been high above in the sky, a place someone like me could never hope to approach.
Yet he lived next door, had spent so much time with me, and treated it as the most natural thing in the world.
Because of that, I occasionally—though rarely—found myself mistakenly believing we were equals. And when that brief illusion shattered after only a few seconds, the sense of loss, pain, and despair that followed gnawed at my very soul.
It wasn’t something as simple or petty as jealousy or envy. His light illuminated everything around me, and in doing so, it also revealed my own limits, my own worthlessness, and my own darkness. And it told me that darkness would never disappear.
“Of course, if that were all, it wouldn’t matter.”
My voice had sunk even lower than before. It was so dark and desolate that I almost wished it didn’t belong to me.
I walked to one side of the room and removed the second wooden panel behind the bookshelf. A narrow gap just wide enough for an arm appeared.
This gap was the only secret in this house that only my deceased parents and I knew—something even Rowell was unaware of. Originally, it had been used to hide a few silver coins, but now it served a different purpose.
I reached inside. A few coins brushed against my fingers, but that wasn’t what I was looking for. I pushed my arm deeper until it hurt, and finally, my fingertips touched what I sought.
What I pulled out was a violet crystal. No larger than a finger, its rough, unrefined appearance meant it wouldn’t fetch much at a jeweler’s.
But that was only because I wanted it to look that way. Despite its appearance, this crystal was more valuable than anything else in this house. More valuable than the weapons and items Rowell and I had used during the great war, and even more valuable than my parents’ keepsakes.
I tucked the crystal deep into my clothes and replaced the wooden panel. Then I slipped out through the back door and headed into the forest. These woods were like my own backyard, yet my steps remained cautious. What was familiar to me was also familiar to Rowell.
I walked carefully, trying not to leave any traces. Rowell wasn’t particularly skilled at tracking or searching compared to his other abilities, and he had no reason to follow me anyway, but there was no harm in being cautious.