Chapter 11
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: The Legend of Miming
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From Superstar to Star Since 0 Years Old Chapter 11
“Grandpa! Tell us the story of the hero!”
A gaggle of children swarmed around him. The old man sitting in front of the fountain in the village square chuckled. He was the grandfather of the village chief and the oldest person in town.
“Hmm? What story was that?”
The old man cupped a hand to his ear and asked again. Wise, good-natured, kind, and intelligent, the old man’s only problem was that he couldn’t hear very well.
The leader of the little group shouted again, louder this time.
“The hero! The story! Please tell us!”
“Ah. The story of the hero?”
“Yes!”
The children gathered and sat huddled together in front of the old man. Not only was he smart, but he also had a knack for telling stories in a very entertaining way.
“It's a story from not too long ago.”
“But you've lived for a super long time, Grandpa! My mom even said you're a wizard!”
To the old man, it felt like it had happened just the other day, but the children knew just how ancient the tale was.
The old man continued, either not hearing the comment or pretending not to.
“When I was a little younger than you, the village was very peaceful. It was so peaceful that not a single monster had appeared for years.”
The old man drifted into his memories.
“One day, when I went to play in the nearby forest, I found a small wooden box under a tree. I thought it was so pretty that I quickly picked it up and brought it back to the village. The villagers all gathered around to look at the beautiful and curious box. But then, all of a sudden, the lid of the box popped open.”
It was a monster, a Mimic.
“But the villagers didn't know what it was. The open box had tiny teeth and a tongue the size of my hand, and on the lid were two round eyes. The people wondered, ‘What could this be?’ Just then, a rumbling sound came from the wooden box. I quickly ran to get my snack and gave it to the box.”
From then on, the wooden box lived in the village under the name Miming.
At first, they gave it the same food people ate, but soon, instead of burying leftover food in the ground, they started giving it to the Mimic. The Mimic ate it all up with great relish.
“Sometimes, when Miming pretended to be just a box, I'd get this incredible urge to open it. I was so curious about what was inside and really wanted it.”
“But that’s just Miming!”
“That’s right. Whenever I opened the lid, it was always Miming. Sometimes we’d give it as a birthday present. It was a very fun prank.”
The old man laughed cheerfully. Then, he lowered his voice.
“And then, a few years later, a terrifying monster appeared.”
Even now, the old man couldn't bring himself to say the monster's name. He was the only one who had experienced that event and was still alive today.
The old man remembered it very clearly. It was a high-ranking demon.
Why such a fearsome demon had appeared in this small village was something a simple old villager like him could never know.
The hero who had pursued the cackling, flying demon was covered in blood. Even that great hero had not been able to defeat the demon.
Fortunately, as dawn broke, the demon hid in the darkness, and the hero received treatment from the villagers.
“What kind of monster was it? An orc? A troll?”
“A werewolf!”
“Well, it was a very, very scary monster.”
All this time, the old man had never revealed the monster's identity. He couldn't bring himself to speak of it, fearing it would bring bad luck. The children, though curious, quickly gave up.
“The hero said, ‘Help me. We must get rid of the monster at once.’”
That's what the hero said, but what could simple country folk do?
The most the villagers could do was provide medical care. That's when it happened.
‘Mimic! Mimimic!’
It was the Mimic, Miming. The startled hero shouted.
‘A Mimic?! Why is a Mimic in a place like this!’
The villagers tilted their heads in confusion. To them, Miming was just a wooden box for getting rid of food scraps. The hero, drawing his holy sword, explained.
‘That's a monster. It lives only in the deepest parts of demon dungeons! But how did it get here?!’
‘No! Miming is very nice!’
The old man, then just a boy, shouted. He quickly wrapped his arms around Miming. The hero yelled.
‘Put it down at once! That is a very dangerous monster!’
‘No! Miming is! Miming is!’
The villagers, watching the argument between the hero and the boy, stepped in front of the child. The village chief at the time, the old man's grandfather, spoke.
‘Hero. The child is not what's important right now.’
The hero, who had been frowning at the chief's words, let out a sigh.
‘You're right. I understand.’
Sheathing his holy sword, the hero nodded. The Mimic could be dealt with anytime. The problem right now was the marquis-level demon.
Just then, Miming jumped out of the boy's arms and hopped over to the hero.
‘Mimic! Mimimic!’
‘…What is it?’
Miming closed its lid and transformed into a wooden box.
The stoic hero, whose sole purpose in life was to defeat the Demon King, felt something.
This… why is it so beautiful?
The small box was smooth and glossy.
What could be inside? What would one put in such a beautiful box? He was curious. He wanted to open it.
The hero, staring blankly at the box, reached out his hand.
‘Hero!’
‘…?!’
The chief's call snapped the hero back to his senses. He was completely bewildered. He pointed at the Mimic with a trembling finger.
‘What in the world is that thing!’
He had destroyed many dungeons and eliminated all sorts of Mimics, but… none had ever tempted him to this extent.
As if it knew the hero's heart, Miming proudly opened and closed its lid in a flurry of motion.
‘Mimic! Mimimic!’
‘Why has Miming been acting like that since earlier?’
‘I know. It’s usually so quiet…’
Miming leaped up and transformed back into a box in front of the hero. The hero, who was well aware of a Mimic's temptations… couldn't resist. After being tempted three times, the hero realized.
‘I see. This Mimic is…’
“The hero proposed a plan to the villagers. They would use Miming to lure the monster. And while the monster was distracted, the hero would finish it off.”
“Miming will be in danger!”
“The monster is scary!”
Even though they all knew the story, the children screamed. Passersby smiled as they watched the children. They, too, had been like that once.
“The villagers loved Miming very much, so they said they didn't like the plan. But brave Miming sided with the hero.”
In the end, the villagers entrusted Miming to the hero.
The hero placed the small box on a table and spoke.
‘…I don't know if you can understand my words. But I believe this is the reason you came to me. I will bring the marquis here. When I do, I need you to use a skill powerful enough to tempt him. In that time, I will eliminate the marquis.’
The hero hesitated for a moment before continuing.
‘So that you won't be in danger… I'll finish it quickly. You be careful too.’
‘Mimic!’
“As the sun set, the hero lured the monster out of its hiding place. Miming was on a table in the center of the village. That's when the monster chasing the hero saw Miming.”
“Miming! You can do it!”
The hero and the Mimic's prediction was spot on.
‘Oho. What is this?’
The marquis-level demon stared blankly at the Mimic. In his several hundred years of life, he had never seen such a box. It was a box he wanted to open immediately to see what was inside. He wanted the object inside the box.
‘Hahaha! To think these insects would offer me such a treasure! Fine! I shall grant you all a very peaceful death!!’
The demon shouted. The people trembled inside their homes. The demon was even more terrifying than they had imagined.
The demon lifted the box with both hands. With its large, sharp hands, it opened the box very carefully.
Just then.
Something burst from the demon's chest. It was the white holy sword. A crack appeared on the demon's core, which glittered in the center of its chest.
‘Die! Marquis!’
The hero put more power into the holy sword.
*Crack.*
The crack became more defined.
The demon's head twisted backward. The marquis's sharp eyes met the hero's.
‘Th-this… was a trap…’
Feeling his vision blur, the marquis turned his head back to the front. He looked at the box in his hands.
‘This is…’
Even as he was dying, the marquis wanted what was inside the box. He knew it was a trap, but that made him even more curious. What on earth had they put inside to tempt him to this extent?
The marquis tightened his grip. The box didn't matter. The contents were what was important.
*Crack!*
‘Mimimic!’
A Mimic. It was a Mimic. Seeing the Mimic scream in pain, the marquis let out a hollow laugh.
A mere Mimic. To think a lowly monster that couldn't even become a noble, no, not even a knight, had tempted him. The marquis squeezed harder in his shame.
I'll at least take you with me!
The hero thrust the holy sword upward. The marquis's head split in two.
The marquis's hands went limp, and the Mimic fell to the ground.
The old man, who had somehow come out of his house, quickly ran and caught the falling Miming.
‘Miming!’
The villagers also rushed outside.
Miming's body was tattered. It looked like it would break apart at the slightest touch. Children and adults alike shed tears.
The hero, having completely finished off the marquis, walked over and knelt on one knee before the Mimic held in the young boy's arms.
The Mimic's eyes turned toward the hero. At its low cry, the hero nodded.
‘Mimi- mic…’
‘Yes. I finished it completely. Not only did I make sure it was dead, but I also burned it to ashes with holy power, leaving nothing behind.’
The Mimic's lid rattled. The hero and the villagers thought it was Miming smiling.
The young boy, who had been the first to find Miming and bring it to the village, continued to weep.
‘You did well. Thanks to you, the villagers are safe. Thanks to you, I was able to defeat the marquis. Thank you.’
‘Mimic…’
The hero knew that this small monster, unlike others, was special.
In the hero's entire life, this would be the first and last good monster he would ever meet.
The Mimic's breathing faded. From a crack in its dead body, something rolled out.
Seeing it, the boy burst into tears. It was the small, round pebble he had given the Mimic as a gift.
“And so, Miming died at the hands of the monster. The hero and the villagers built a fountain and a statue where Miming had been, to show their gratitude.”
“Miming. Thank you!”
“Poor Miming!”
The children sniffled and cried. The old man smiled, remembering the close friend he had lost so long ago.
Behind the old man, on top of the fountain that was beautifully spouting water, stood a statue.
It was a statue of Miming, its wooden lid open, smiling brightly.
The small village had grown much larger since then. This was because the hero had defeated the Demon King and settled down in this town.
The hero received a title and was given a large territory that included this village. He ruled over his domain peacefully ever after.
“It's Lady Elizabeth!”
The children jumped to their feet and ran toward a carriage emblazoned with the crest of a wooden box.
They were running to see Elizabeth, the hero's great-granddaughter.
The carriage window opened, and a young girl peeked her head out.
The old man chuckled, seeing the hero's face in the girl's.
Just then, someone came and sat down next to the old man.
“It's been a while.”
“Indeed.”
“You always come. On this day, every year.”
The middle-aged man with streaks of white in his hair smiled gently. Whenever he came to this village, to this place, he found himself relaxing without realizing it.
“Today is the day Miming died, isn't it?”
The middle-aged man, the hero, looked at the old man. The small boy had already grown so old.
The hero, who aged very slowly due to divine power, wandered from place to place in disguise, but he always returned to this village on this day every year.
“That's right. It's been that long already. When you get old, you don't even know how the days pass.”
The old man smiled. The hero's gaze shifted to his great-granddaughter's carriage. Seeing the wooden box crest filled him with a sense of pride.
The king had asked. What do you want your crest to be?
The hero had replied. I would like it to be a wooden box.
Unable to bring himself to say it was a Mimic, a wooden box wrapped in a laurel wreath became the hero's crest.
“That one was a special one.”
“Yes. A very kind and good friend.”
The hero looked up at the sky. The deep blue sky lifted his spirits.
“The gods must have granted it a next life. What do you suppose it's doing now?”
“You're right. A next life…”
The old man chuckled softly.
“Wouldn't it be out there, tempting other people?”
“Yes. I suppose it would.”
The hero smiled, remembering the Mimic, a brief but precious connection.
***
The Mimic that tempted both the hero and the marquis-level demon is now preparing to tempt again!
“Seojun, let's get you ready for the shoot!”
Seojun clenched his tiny fists, determined to sell out.
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