Qualifications (2)
I stared at the corpse lying inside the transparent coffin.
Honestly, it was not a body you could call pleasant to look at.
Skin gouged with scars as if it had been flayed, the flesh covered in wounds that had never closed. Tall for a woman, though still shorter than me — by about a handspan, roughly.
Her body, blackened here and there like firewood half-burned through, was so wretched it made you wonder what kind of torment could reduce a person to that.
"This is what it means to be a Hero. You understand now, don't you?"
Latera looked at me with distant eyes, but unfortunately I still could not grasp what a Hero's qualification was supposed to be.
"What? You still don't get it?"
She stared at me as if she could not believe it.
"I—I'll explain it again. What part, specifically, is confusing you?"
"Well, first of all, I get that Kyle is pitiful. She worked herself half to death without receiving a single thing in return, and in the end she just died."
"I think so too."
Latera clenched her fists and nodded hard. Even that small gesture made it clear — she didn't just like Kyle. She revered her.
"It seems you and I are on the same wavelength, Hero."
"Calling it 'on the same wavelength' over basic human empathy is a little ridiculous."
I slowly shook my head.
"The real problem is, I still don't understand why you shoved a corpse in my face. It feels like you're trying to force me into becoming like that, and frankly, it's unpleasant."
My brow furrowed hard. I could feel my expression curdling by the second. Absolutely not. Who in their right mind would want to end up like that?
"I'm sorry. But that was never my intention."
Latera hung her head low as she spoke.
"...No, don't look so defeated. Now I just feel like I picked on a kid and crushed her spirit."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of candy. It was pure habit — and even here, the power of Storage activated. I flinched for a second as I realized belatedly that my body had returned, but I managed to draw out a proper strawberry candy all the same.
"...Treating me like a child? I'll have you know I've lived for five hundred years..."
"Come on, it's just because you're cute. You are cute. That's a fact."
"...I am pretty cute, yeah."
Latera stared at the candy for a long moment, then finally accepted it with reluctant grace.
Watching her shift it around in her mouth, cheeks puffed out, she looked every bit the child — and yet she claimed to have lived five hundred years.
"This form is a device meant to put people who come here at ease."
"At ease? So you lower their guard, then — whack — crack them over the back of the head?"
"Hmm? My predecessor said he liked how cute I looked. He told me that people who hate a cute girl like me are pretty rare."
Latera shot me a mischievous wink.
"Of course, there might be some of that reason you mentioned. But my first principle of conduct is to serve as a guide for the Heroes who arrive here."
"So there have been other Heroes who've come here besides me?"
"Nope!"
Latera answered with a bright smile.
"You're the first, Hero. In all the time since Hero Kyle, you are the only one who has entered this place as a suitable candidate."
"...Only two people in five hundred years."
From everything I'd heard so far, entering this place required speaking the name of a mage erased from the world, and possessing the qualification of selfless devotion.
"There are only two conditions, but they're incredibly strict."
"But no matter how I think about it, I'm not the kind of person who fits that sort of selfless behavior. I've never done anything like that to begin with."
"Is that really so?"
Latera's eyes narrowed. A faint smile played at the corners of her lips, as if she were watching something amusing.
"Heh. You're awfully bashful, aren't you?"
"..."
Latera clasped her hands behind her back and circled around me. She narrowed her eyes, then widened them again... her expression shifting through a whole range of colors, as if she were observing something fascinating.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm looking at your karma, Hero."
Karma? My deeds? Was this girl looking at my Reputation right now?
"Looking at this, I can kind of understand how you feel. Ugh — demerits totaling a full five hundred points. That's a bit..."
Latera recoiled a step, as if she had seen something she shouldn't have. Watching her expression rot away by the second, I figured those "demerits" were the accumulated result of every scoundrel act I'd committed so far.
That was a relief, at least. I'd been fretting over whether the system would even apply here.
"This is pretty dangerous... but even so, you still possess the qualifications, so you just barely pass."
I listened carefully to her words. More than "pass," the word that seized my attention was "dangerous."
"It's strange even to me. With demerits this high, you absolutely shouldn't be fine. That just means you're remarkable, doesn't it? Being able to stand here next to me in one piece despite carrying a penalty like this."
Latera stared straight at me as she spoke. The faintly suspicious look in her eyes was, for once, a comfort. Earlier her blind fondness had been exhausting.
"What do you mean I 'shouldn't be fine'?"
"I'd judge you as an intruder threatening the Hero's House, and take immediate action to eliminate you."
"Who would?"
"Me."
Latera pointed at herself with her thumb, wearing a slightly cocky look. The grin hooked across her mouth was thoroughly self-assured.
"As the guardian angel of this place, I would personally step in to deal with you."
"And what happens if you step in?"
"Want to see?"
"...No. I'm good."
I gave Latera a sidelong look. A girl whose head barely reached my solar plexus. Black hair, purple eyes. That confident face.
The ring of light floating above her head left the distinct impression that she was no ordinary being.
Latera's smile deepened.
"Why not? I really want to show you."
"What if I actually see it and end up scared of you? I might not be able to treat you the way I do now. And you just said it yourself — I'm barely scraping by."
I hated the idea of any brake being put on my behavior.
Once hesitation creeps into a conversation, you can't check the suspicions that naturally arise. You can't extract what you came to extract.
"Fine, I get that. Moving on."
I looked around the space as I spoke.
"Have there been any intruders here?"
"Quite a few over five hundred years."
Latera heaved a long sigh and turned her gaze toward the transparent coffin.
"I don't know what they think is here besides the first Hero Kyle's remains that makes them so desperate to break in, but they still claw their way in somehow... Honestly, the trouble they've caused me is no joke."
"So that means you can reach this place even without those qualifications."
What even was this place? Where was it? Nowhere in my memories did a location like this exist.
"Of course. This isn't a space completely independent of reality. It does exist on the continent."
The question rose in me, but I didn't bother voicing it. Something had been prickling at me for a while now, raising every hair on my body. Keeping the fragments that kept surfacing in my mind from taking shape was harder than it sounded.
"Why are you so tense?"
"You really are reading my thoughts."
I kept my expression carefully composed. I wore a smiling face on the outside and performed ease with every gesture and posture. But this girl had already noticed I was uncomfortable.
"The Hero's House is that kind of place. It exists as a spiritual space, so words and thoughts alike are laid bare."
"..."
Having my thoughts read felt thoroughly filthy. The sensation of being flung naked into the middle of a busy street was more than enough to fill me with shame.
"And you were just fine being naked a moment ago..."
"Anyway. So this form is the one my soul remembers?"
"Yes. Even if a white-haired old man came here, he would likely arrive in the form his soul remembers. The most radiant version of each person is the one etched deepest — so your most brilliant moment must have been that era."
"Is there a mirror around here? I want to see my face."
"Here."
Latera held out a hand mirror.
I took it in one hand and looked at the reflection of myself within.
The first thing to check was the scar under my eye.
Just as I thought. It was there.
It hadn't been before I came to this place.
Then I dropped to the floor and examined the soles of my feet.
There they were — Encia's and Ophelia's marks. A jagged, spiked pattern, and a tangle of rose vines.
They were carved into my soul. Even if I tore the skin from my feet, they would never come off.
"Kyaaaaaaah!!"
Just then, Latera screamed.
I lifted my head to find her jabbing a finger at me the same way she had when we first met.
"What! What is that?!"
"What?"
"Don't 'what' me! Those are demon marks!"
"Ah."
Latera rushed over, seized me by the collar, and shoved her face into mine. Watching her panic was pretty entertaining. Her face had gone pale, and her lips were trembling.
"Is that not allowed?"
"Are you insane? Have you lost your mind?! What kind of Hero makes contracts with demons?! And you went and made two of them?!"
"It's fine. I needed them, and I don't regret it. Even if this costs me my body, it was my choice, so—"
"It's filthy!"
Latera cut me off mid-sentence. Her flushed face looked thoroughly furious.