The Fanatical Hero (2)
“A Hero has appeared?”
The Cathedral had officially proclaimed the emergence of a Hero.
“Wait, how could that even happen?”
Reading the featured post, doubt crept in immediately.
And for good reason: the Holy Sword was currently resting inside the ancient castle belonging to my Assistant Moderator, Godjukheup. This was obviously shameless bait from the Cathedral. Anyone with half a brain could tell it was just some phony Hero dressed up to play the part.
Naturally, the reaction across the Gallery was ice-cold. The Cathedral’s public standing had already hit rock bottom; in fact, ever since the recent catastrophe, their reputation had plunged straight into the abyss.
“Why are they pulling bait like this?”
It made no sense whatsoever. Still, there was no denying that the title was top-tier clickbait. Driven by curiosity, I clicked on the featured thread.
First off, I'm not a priest.
Not a Cathedral shill either fr.
Saw the Cathedral announce a Hero this morning, so I tuned in to see what kind of nonsense they were up to now, but...
[Attached: Image of the Hero standing beside the Pope]
[Attached: Image of the Adrian Holy Sword held in the Hero's hand]
Holy shit, it's real.
How the hell did you pull this off, you bastards?
“Huh?”
It really was real.
The blade gripped in the hand of the silver-haired man whom the Pope had introduced as the Hero was, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the genuine Holy Sword. For a moment, it felt like I'd been smacked across the back of the head.
“It actually managed to escape?”
I was certain I had abandoned it—er, temporarily entrusted it—to Godjukheup’s castle. Could it be some elaborate optical illusion?
Godjukheup's confirmation eliminated any lingering doubt. That really was my eco-friendly LED lamp over there.
Naturally, the comment section exploded into complete pandemonium. Opinion fractured down the middle between those insisting it was merely Cathedral propaganda and those arguing that since the Pope himself had validated it—and the man possessed the actual Holy Sword—he must be the genuine article.
Seizing the momentum, the Cathedral promptly issued an official proclamation.
[Attached: Image of the Hero holding the Holy Sword]
The Heavens have recently designated our Hero.
Together with the Holy Sword, the Hero has suddenly graced our Cathedral with his presence.
In accordance with divine will, I, as Pope, shall preside over an investiture ceremony to officially ordain him as the authentic Hero.
This is an occasion of immense joy.
Let all imperial citizens attend and bear witness to the legitimacy of the Hero chosen by the Heavens.
The Cathedral was orchestrating an investiture ceremony for their Hero. If his legitimacy was affirmed before the public, it would automatically brand me as an imposter. Worse than just a fake, I would be accused of parading around and impersonating the legendary Hero with a stolen sacred relic.
“Hmm...”
And yet.
“Huuuh?”
To be perfectly honest, I didn't care in the slightest.
Whether people thought I wasn't the Hero or called me a fraud didn't matter to me. What even was a Hero to begin with?
“Does that have anything to do with running the Gallery?”
Instead, my attention was drawn to the silver-haired man in the pictures.
“Wait... haven't I seen him somewhere before?”
With striking features and resplendent silver locks, he looked every bit the dashing Hero straight out of a fairy tale. Yet something about his face struck an uncanny chord of familiarity. I stared at him for a long time, lost in contemplation.
“Ah, there you are, Sir Hero.”
Inside the spacious waiting chamber, Pope Favellio approached the silver-haired youth with a benevolent, radiant smile. At the address, the man looked up from the Holy Sword and rose from his seat.
“Your Holiness.”
“Do not be so tense. Are you not about to become the Hero before the eyes of the entire world?”
“Still...”
The Hero: the Church's legitimate physical enforcer.
Yet both the Pope and the man standing before him knew the unvarnished truth: the Holy Sword had never shone in his hands. It was the Pope himself who had magically engineered the illusion of light.
Even so, Favellio treated him with the utmost reverence, as if honoring a true savior.
“Sir Hero... no, Darian.”
Because.
“Fret not. The truth is of no consequence.”
The truth mattered very little.
Favellio rested a heavy hand on Darian's shoulder. Then, in the blink of an eye, the saintly mask vanished, replaced by a serpent's sly grin as he leaned in to whisper:
“You have no idea how astounded I was when you arrived at our Cathedral carrying the Holy Sword.”
It had happened right as the Cathedral, under the Pope's secret decree, was beginning to manufacture a fraudulent Hero. That was when Darian had walked through the doors—holding the genuine Holy Sword of Adrian.
“Where did you say you found it again?”
“I merely picked it up where it was discarded in the woods.”
He had simply gathered up a Holy Sword that looked somehow completely exhausted and drained of life.
“Indeed. You are no Hero, and finding the Holy Sword was pure happenstance.”
It was an accident of fate, nothing more. But to Favellio, it was an unprecedented stroke of divine fortune. All that mattered was that the Holy Sword—which should have been in the hands of that wretched Head Moderator—now rested in Darian's grasp.
“From this day forth, you are the Hero.”
“Yet... the Holy Sword did not shine.”
“Light can be conjured through sorcery. If I proclaim you the Hero, then you are the Hero.”
Even without the divine illumination, Favellio pulled back slowly, his heart racing with ambition. Through this grand investiture, he would reclaim undisputed legitimacy and seize back absolute authority.
If that happens...
He would return to the glorious past, the age before the Gallery ever existed—an era when he could execute anyone at the flick of a finger, worshipped like an earthly god. And perhaps he could banish that detestable vermin known as the Head Moderator once and for all.
No, I will slaughter him outright.
If fortune favored him, he might even seize control of the Gallery itself. Savoring that intoxicating future, Favellio allowed his smile to fade and fixed Darian with a piercing gaze.
“Therefore, do not forget your place, Sir Hero.”
Leaving behind those parting words, Favellio turned and exited to prepare for the imminent ceremony.
Left alone once more in the cavernous chamber, Darian gazed down quietly at the blade.
Vwooom.
Though it emitted not a speck of light, it was unmistakably the authentic Holy Sword of Adrian. Perhaps this, too, was his destiny.
“I shall not forget,” Darian murmured softly, staring into the cold steel.
Matters progressed at a breakneck pace. Less than a single day after the supposed Hero had surfaced, the investiture ceremony was already underway.
Watching the hottest topic consuming the Gallery, I remained lost in thought.
“Damn it, this 'Hero' guy... where the hell do I know him from?!”
I was still fixated on that singular thought. No matter how many times I looked, I was convinced I had seen him before.
Despite the distress from my Sub-Mods, I took no action.
[Attached: Image of Darian standing upon the high dais]
[Attached: Image of the Pope addressing the assembled multitude before Darian]
Behold Darian, the Hero bestowed upon us by the Heavens.
As the representative of the Cathedral and servant of the divine will, I hereby ordain Darian as the true Hero.
[Attached: Image of radiant light bursting from the Holy Sword as Darian raises it aloft]
The ceremony had officially begun. The Pope called the young man forward, and the instant his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a brilliant luminescence spilled forth.
“Wait, that light looks off.”
Compared to the blinding, pure golden radiance I had witnessed when I held it, this glow was murky and artificial. Yet the throngs gathered below erupted into frenzied cheers of ecstasy.
Because I deliberately refrained from interfering, trolls, agitators, and spammers swarmed the board, turning the comment section into a chaotic circus.
Despite the panic from my Sub-Mods, I remained fixated on the image of the man hailed as the Hero.
On the screen, the Pope's voice boomed across the plaza:
“Thus has his worthiness as the Hero been proven beyond all doubt!”
“In accordance with the call of the Divine, I hereby consecrate Darian as our Hero!”
At the Pope’s bidding, the young man strode forward with deliberate steps. The moment the camera caught his features in sharp clarity, realization struck me like lightning.
“Wait—he's that guy from the plaza!”
Darian. I wondered why that name had sounded so familiar.
On that day I went for a walk with Penny, the man now being hailed as the Hero was none other than the destitute vagrant collapsed on the square's pavement.
“His name was definitely Darian Zallot.”
I had handed him a can of tuna and my coat. And in the live feed, Darian was wearing that exact same coat. No wonder he had looked so familiar.
“What did he tell me back then...?”
After devouring the tuna like a starving beast, he had fallen to his knees before leaving and declared those words with burning intensity:
I shall never forget this grace.
Thwack!
“What the—?!”
In the next heartbeat, the Holy Sword plunged clean through the Pope's torso.
It happened in a flash. For a second, I genuinely questioned whether my eyes were playing tricks on me.
Only the fountain of dark, crimson blood erupting from the wound affirmed that this was horrifying reality.
Amidst the dead silence of collective shock, Darian's countenance twisted in an instant.
“All heretics deserve only death.”
Wiping away every trace of mild gentleness, he muttered the words with an expression so chillingly vacant it raised goosebumps.
With a sickening squelch, he wrenched the blade free, kicked the Pope's collapsing body off the high dais, and looked dead into the system screen.
“Glory be to Lord Judddak!”
“Wait, what?!”
Me?!
While everyone stood paralyzed in utter bewilderment, the Hero thrust the Holy Sword high toward the heavens.
At that exact moment, a system window flashed before my eyes.
[1 empty slot remains.]
[Scanning...]
[1 assignable target detected nearby.]
[Would you like to designate this target?]