Hero Selen (2)

The Hero is the Goddess’s proxy.

It was a setting that borrowed a well-worn cliché, true to the spirit of Apolis Tales.

Needless to say, the honor of carrying out the Sun’s will did not fall upon just anyone. The right person was chosen by the Goddess herself. Hero was not a seat one seized—it was an office one was appointed to.

And it was not only the Hero who received that choice.

A great warrior who wielded Aura as naturally as breathing. A guardian who commanded spirits at will. A sage fluent in magic and steeped in wisdom. A Saintess possessed of deep and vast Holy Power. The companions of the Hero’s party, each mastering a different power, were likewise chosen by the Goddess.

Of course, She had not picked them at random. It was a decision reached after careful deliberation. As a result, the Hero’s party was never made up of ordinary people—only extraordinary talents, each marked by some quality that set them apart from the common folk.

The Hero’s party I had belonged to had been the same: nothing but unusual kids from end to end. This new party would be no different. Just look at Selen, the Hero herself—her talent was absurdly outstanding.

The newspapers were making a fuss that this time, at last, they might actually kill the Demon King. Quietly, I hoped they would. Anyone strong enough to beat the Demon King would overwhelm someone like me with room to spare.

How am I supposed to wait until they’re all fully grown?

My heart kept floating up, light and restless. It was the first time since my excommunication that the future had felt bright.

I pulled my soft, giddy mind back into order and set my feet moving. The Hero’s movements were laid out in detail in the papers, so where I needed to go was clear enough.

She’s at the height of her swagger right about now.

The Hero was currently on a journey to meet her companions. It was a matter of romance over efficiency. Rather than simply designating a meeting place and gathering there the easy way, the Hero herself had to go around and find them. It was a thoroughly inconvenient custom that had hardened into tradition—a kind of annual festival the public loved and enjoyed, which made refusing it nearly impossible.

At any rate, the first companion the Hero meant to meet was the Sage: a mage belonging to the Purple Magic Tower. I knew she had stopped in Serda to rest along the way. It was the only city on the road to the mountain range where the Purple Magic Tower stood. She would not linger long, so time was short. I had to meet her somehow before the day was out.

I kept walking, and before long a low purple tower rose into view.

The Serda branch of the Purple Magic Tower. The Hero was there now, studying magic. One might have expected her to rest easy for at least a day, but she had not. A diligent attitude, striving to grow stronger still. She had already scored one win against Liam, the previous Hero.

That guy had only ever leveled up his talent for slacking off at breakneck speed—and yet in real combat he had soared so freely that eventually I had given up and just left him to it.

…Why did the old days keep surfacing like this?

I shook free of the idle thoughts and walked on in silence. The closer I drew to the Purple Magic Tower’s branch, the thicker the crowds in the streets became. People laughing and chattering as if it were a festival ground. The lively energy was so thick it lifted even my mood for no good reason.

It was a common sight in any city where a Hero stayed. The wish to catch even a glimpse of her face gathered and gathered until it became a sea of people.

But hadn’t they said Serda was in chaos because of me? Somehow, no one here looked anywhere near anxious. Danger, it seemed, was hard to feel until you experienced it yourself. Or perhaps the Hero’s presence was steadying every heart. Either way, it was not a good situation for me.

The only ability I had was Aura control. Advanced techniques like concealment or disguise were strangers to me. How was I supposed to meet the Hero in secret?

For a start, I was far from the only person in a robe, so I did not stand out much. But the throng was so dense that moving freely was difficult. And once I reached the streets near the Purple Magic Tower, I could do nothing at all. The heat was like a popular singer’s concert. A few mages from the Tower were trying to keep order, but they had their limits.

I was starting to get thoroughly fed up. Maybe it would be better to wait and tail the Hero when she left Serda. Inconvenient, sure—but all things considered, not a bad call.

I was just about to give up on that thought when—

…There.

I felt it all at once. Holy Power of astonishing purity. Not a priest or cleric of the Order. The endlessly pure Holy Power unique to a Hero—the proof that she was the Goddess’s proxy.

The Hero was among the crowd. And yet no one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had noticed. Sensing Holy Power within a body was beyond ordinary people; it was a technique only someone on the level of a Pope or a Saintess could manage. I had no idea how she had slipped outside without being spotted, but I could not let the chance pass.

I snapped my gaze toward the direction of the Holy Power—and found the Hero at once. A suspicious figure flustered under a pulled-up robe. Anyone watching would have thought she had committed a crime. Still a fledgling, after all. Carrying on like that was practically begging to be suspected.

The Hero carefully scanned her surroundings and headed for an alley. I hurried after her, determined not to lose her. Somehow I had ended up looking like a stalker. The feeling was strange, but it was far too late to quit now.

When I entered the alley she had taken, a quiet atmosphere closed around me.

“Good day to you.”

A clear, youthful voice rode the still air and offered a greeting—as if she had known I would come.

“You lured me here on purpose?”

I asked the Hero, who stood facing me without a hint of shame.

“That is correct. Banished Saintess Clitia.”

She had seen straight through my identity. She seemed to have reached a higher level than I had expected.

“Risky stunt you’re pulling.”

“Better that my own life be in danger than that I leave you among the crowd.”

And on top of that, a sense of justice that put the people she had to protect ahead of her own safety. I was satisfied. It was the mindset of a Hero that Liam had never possessed.

“So what are you going to do about it? I could just ignore you and go kill all those people instead.”

I tried a deliberate provocation. The Hero shook her head firmly.

“No. You will not do that.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because there is no way you would simply walk past a strong opponent.”

“……”

I barely managed to pin down the corner of my mouth before it could climb, completely missing the mood.

“Is that not why you followed me as well?”

“…You’re saying you’re the strong one?”

“That is not what I mean. But I am at least a Hero equipped with the ability to stand against you.”

This was bad. We had not even been face-to-face for a full minute, and I already wanted to heap praise on her for being so endearingly earnest.

“Please cease the evil of taking out the wounds the Demon King left upon your heart on innocent people.”

She had guessed my purpose wrong… but that kind of framing was not so bad either.

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I shall face you. Even if it costs me my life, I will stop you.”

Those were the words I had wanted.

“Good. Follow me.”

At last, it was time to begin her education.

A Hero’s party must defeat evil.

Back when it was a game, that had not been especially difficult. Raise your level high enough and even the final boss, the Demon King, started to feel trivial. But the mission and duty of a Hero’s party, faced as reality rather than fiction, were crushingly heavy.

The Demon King’s majesty, experienced firsthand, was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on a different plane from anything seen through a monitor. Overwhelming power that left no room for resistance. Even now, just thinking of that time made my body tremble beyond control.

And then there were the ones called the Public Enemies of humanity, each threatening peace in their own way. Every last one of them was a powerhouse on par with the Demon King. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠So a Hero’s party could not be content with half-measure strength. Settle for the present, and you would eventually slam into a wall—just as my companions and I had.

What a Hero needed, therefore, was a spiritual education that would call forth endless effort.

“This should do.”

Together with the Hero, I arrived at a dense forest growing near Serda. On the way I had wanted to teach her all sorts of things, but I held it in. Right now I was the infamous Banished Saintess. The lesson had to be delivered with the body, not the mouth.

“I’ll give you the first move. Give it everything you’ve got.”

I lounged as if I did not even regard the likes of her as an opponent. A moderate dose of anger ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was good for improving one’s full strength, after all.

“…O Sun, I shall become your blade.”

A sword of Holy Power took shape in the Hero’s hand.

“Pyrite.”

“Body Reinforcement.”

“I will stop you!”

Before the words had even finished reaching my ears, her sword shot toward my throat—the universal weak point shared by most living things. A good attack.

But her opponent was me.

“That all?”

I glanced at the blade halted against my neck and allowed myself a faint smile.

“How…?”

“You think you can catch the Demon King like this?”

The Hero was so flustered she could not manage any response at all. She still had a long, long way to go.

“My turn.”

I drove a fist sheathed in Aura forward with all my strength. A heavy impact. Struck square in the gut, the Hero flew back and slammed into a tree behind her.

“Ngh…!”

“Shall we keep going?”

As expected—spiritual education was best delivered through the body.