The Second-Best Strategist's Invitation
Rowell always stayed by my side out of concern, and the other companions never expected any grand feats from me.
Of course, that didn’t mean I was useless. Even if my skills ranked lowest, that was only because my comparison points were absurdly exceptional—my own abilities weren’t worthless. If I had truly been nothing but dead weight, Rowell and the others would have sent me back to the village or some other safe place long ago.
But was I truly a special existence to them, the way they were to one another?
We were certainly companions. Friends, even. After all, we had spent so much time together, overcoming countless crises both large and small.
Yet did I carry the same weight in their hearts as the others?
“…Of course Rowell would think that way.”
Yes. He would.
“He would. That’s just the kind of person he is.”
He never discriminated between people. While Aegina, his lover, might hold a special place, to Rowell I was just as precious a companion as Medrup, Orcan, Lauti, or Bagloros.
“That is correct.”
But her expression remained stiff, her voice still heavy. What she was about to say would not differ from the thoughts already weighing on my mind.
“But that’s only because he treats everyone the same, isn’t it?”
“…Yes.”
I wasn’t special. He was.
“See? In the end, you gained nothing.”
When I lifted my head with a complicated heart, a victorious smile had appeared on her face—the same smile she had shown whenever she blocked our path and put us in dire straits. It was the first time I had seen it since she had been imprisoned here.
So I smiled as well. Just as we always had, to wipe that ridiculous smile off her face.
“That can’t be true.”
I rose from my seat and opened the grimoire I had been holding, turning it toward her. Her expression hardened, and unmistakable fear surfaced in her eyes.
“The Demon Commander is truly foolish. Have you forgotten where you have been these past few years? Forgotten what this place is that I visit every day, and who you are?”
She was now on edge at my every word, every subtle movement of mana.
“Why would you say I gained nothing? This pocket dimension, the countless books and items filling it, and even the beautiful lady trembling inside this barrel—all of it is mine.”
I stepped closer to her. The open book drew nearer as well.
“All right! I understand! So please, put that damned book away!”
At her scream-like surrender, I hurled the book with all my strength toward the opposite bookshelf. I had always handled books with care, even if they were merely borrowed from a library rather than priceless grimoires, but I had no choice. If I didn’t do something, I felt I would go mad right then and there.
“…As long as you understand.”
I turned away. It was time to leave, and if I stayed any longer, I didn’t know what I might do. I needed a moment—just a brief moment—to be alone. Yes. Until lunch, or at latest, before dinner.
“Then I shall see you tomorrow.”
She said nothing. There was no reason for her to.
The road home was steeped in silence. Even the wind seemed to have stopped, and today, not even the sound of birds’ wings could be heard. The occasional rustle of grass only deepened the loneliness.
I knew it was all in my head, but that knowledge changed nothing.
“What exactly am I doing?”
At first, it had been a desire for compensation. Then, as I had told myself, it became childish, pointless self-satisfaction. Nothing more.
But if that was all, why did I come here every day without even Rowell knowing, reading spells and theories from grimoires I had no intention of ever using? What was I hoping for? What was I expecting?
“Hm?”
While lost in such thoughts, I passed through the forest path and approached the house, only to sense something different from usual. The occasional sound of hooves. Quite a number of people.
“Looks like we have visitors again.”
I opened the back door and stepped inside. No matter how many presences there were, it didn’t matter.
“As expected.”
The house was empty. Beyond the opposite window, however, I could see horses tied up here and there, along with several people guarding them.
This was fairly common. People came seeking the hero who saved the world, either to meet him or to extend an invitation.
After Rowell saved the world, our once-unmarked village became known as the Hero’s Village, and nearly every nation marked it on their maps. Thanks to that, even this remote little village received occasional visitors.
Of course, all of them came solely to see the hero who saved the world. I sat down on the old chair at the table—my father’s chair, the one he had made and used.
“I wonder where they’re from this time. The royal palace? A noble’s party? Or perhaps some knight order?”
Over the past few years, countless people had come for countless reasons. Some came purely out of admiration and respect, but just as many sought to use the hero’s name and power for their own gain.
Of course, when I said “use,” I didn’t mean truly malicious or sinister intentions. Most simply wanted to benefit themselves while also offering something good to Rowell. Others came seeking resolution for their grievances or suffering.
Naturally, Rowell declined all but the purest requests and the rarest exceptions. He had even refused the throne. What gain could he possibly desire? And no matter how much of a hero he was, he was not a god. He couldn’t erase every pain and injustice, and many of those who came, while undoubtedly struggling, couldn’t be called one-sided victims or sacrifices.
This time, there were multiple horses, and judging by the luggage and attire, they had likely been sent by some prominent noble house or kingdom. And—
“…Should I just take a nap?”
None of it had anything to do with me. Nine out of ten visitors to this village had never even heard the names “Second-Best Strategist” or “Nightmare of Orsia Hill,” and even if they had, they would never dream that such a person lived in the “Hero’s Village.”
“Anak? You back?”
Just as I was trying to push it from my mind, I thought I heard Rowell’s voice—then the door suddenly opened.
“Ah, there you are. You took a longer walk than usual today.”
Rowell simply believed I enjoyed daily walks, and he trusted that.
“I was just thinking about this and that. So, what brings them here today?”
“Well, I’m not sure myself.”
“You’re not sure?”
For a moment, I didn’t grasp his meaning.
“What do you mean you’re not sure? Don’t tell me they came all this way without even stating their business?”
While I stood there puzzled, Rowell gave me a playful smile and stepped aside from the door. Behind him appeared knights clad in ornate armor.
“We greet Anak, the Second-Best Strategist, the Nightmare of Orsia, and the Summoner of Deception.”
Their voices were so bold they seemed to shake the house, and their greetings were so excessively polite they felt burdensome. Stunned, I turned to look at Rowell.
“Ask them yourself. They came to see you.”
Me? For what? Why?
“We are the Alto Knight Order under Viscount Ashton of the Hizen Kingdom. We have come to deliver the Viscount’s invitation to Lord Anak.”
The invitation he produced from his coat bore my titles and name written in elegant script.
“The Viscount has invited only Lord Anak.”
When I tried to look at Rowell, the knights answered in his stead.
“The Viscount was greatly impressed by your achievements.”
“Impressed?”
Rowell spoke as if it were his own joy, but to me, the situation only raised suspicions.
Greatly impressed by my achievements? What achievements, exactly? While I had certainly contributed during our journey, how could any of it compare to the hero Rowell? Yet they had invited me instead of Rowell?
“Of course, if Lord Rowell and Princess Aegina were to attend as well, the Viscount would consider it an honor.”
Right. Perhaps I was being overly suspicious. Over the past few years, Rowell had declined every invitation without exception. Viscount Ashton likely knew this and had therefore chosen to invite not the hero, but the hero’s companion.
Or perhaps Viscount Ashton simply had peculiar tastes. As we had seen during our travels, this world had no shortage of people with unusual preferences—those who favored the unconventional over the mainstream, or the humble over the perfect.
Even without that, rumors were bound to change, exaggerate, inflate, or vanish entirely as they spread. There were regions where my name was completely unknown, and others where I was known in an entirely different light. It was possible that whatever Viscount Ashton had heard about my deeds was far more exaggerated or romanticized than reality, and that he had invited me under the mistaken belief that I was far greater than I actually was.
“…First, I thank the Viscount for his thoughtful invitation. However, I don’t believe it was necessary to send an entire knight order just for this invitation. Is there any other reason?”
“The Viscount has entrusted us with escorting Lord Anak. If you are ready, we shall accompany you at once.”
It wasn’t so much an escort as the knight order itself being part of the invitation—making refusal difficult while also applying pressure.
“Right now?”
“It does not have to be this very moment. As long as you attend, we are willing to wait a few days.”
Which meant it was now.
“……”
I looked quietly at Rowell. I didn’t even know why I was looking at him, or what I hoped to see. My eyes had gone there before I could think. It was probably just habit.
“Go on, Anak. Hizen Kingdom isn’t that far, and you’ve been bored lately anyway.”
Rowell was simply, genuinely happy. Oh, Rowell. No doubt that kind heart of his had felt guilty seeing how no one ever came for me while so many sought him and Aegina. That was why he was so pleased an invitation had finally come my way.
“Then I suppose I’ll go.”
I decided to ease his unnecessary guilt. I was also curious what Viscount Ashton was plotting, and with a few days away, there would be no need to sneak off to that space under the pretense of a walk.
“Then let us depart immediately. Please wait a moment.”
“Understood. We shall prepare for departure as well.”