The Hero Wished
"Captain, are you alright?"
"Mm."
Jena opened her eyes at the sound of her subordinate's voice. Regaining her senses, she winced at the pain throbbing in her jaw. What had happened? Could she really have lost to that backwater hero?
Jena stared at Allen with a face full of questions.
It was a perfect strike.
She had no intention of killing a hero, of course. But as the saying went, a newborn pup knows no fear of tigers—she'd planned to properly punish him for daring to speak so casually to her. After all, he'd requested the spar himself, so inflicting a moderate wound should be no issue, or so she'd judged.
And as planned, she'd carved a nice, big gash into the hero's arm. Every time he saw that scar, he'd reflect on his own arrogance, she'd thought.
"What happened?"
After that, her memory grew fuzzy. The last thing she remembered was the hero's face, grinning even as her sword bit into his arm.
"Well..."
One of the Holy Knight Order members explained the situation to her in rough terms. Apparently, the so-called hero had trusted in his immortal body, offered up his arm, and landed a sword strike on Jena's jaw.
Jena gaped in disbelief at the hero, who was now chatting away with the saintess. This wasn't a fair spar. Technically, the moment her blade struck his arm, she should have been declared the winner.
But...
Another thought crept into Jena's mind. What if the hero hadn't held back with the flat of his blade? It might not have ended with mere pain—her pretty face could have been split in two.
No! This is cheating.
But with her sky-high pride, Jena couldn't admit defeat. That immortal body was a blessing from the goddess, wasn't it? It was unfair from the start, miles away from anything resembling fairness. Of course, it didn't occur to her that unlike Allen, she'd received elite training since childhood, inherited masterful swordsmanship, and enjoyed privileges others could only dream of.
"Awake?"
As Jena glared daggers at him, the hero sauntered over with a smirk and asked.
She fixed him with an icy stare. "This doesn't count."
"Doesn't count? Why not?"
She'd declared it boldly, but the hero just gazed back calmly. Jena racked her brain for reasons why the match was unfair, but every one felt petty coming out of her mouth.
"Surely the youngest daughter of the Darius family isn't going back on her word?"
"...How do you know that?"
Jena's eyes widened at his words. She didn't remember telling him she was from the Darius family.
Her gaze naturally shifted to the saintess. She must have blabbed. But how he'd found out didn't matter now. With her family's name invoked, Jena had to honor her own words, no matter what. That was the pride that made the Darius house shine as a noble lineage.
If word got out that she'd broken her promise, she might lose the right to the Darius name. Her father spared no support for his children, but he never forgave those who tarnished the family honor.
'This bitch is scared.'
I flashed a grin at Jena, who was trembling with rage as she glared at me. I hadn't chatted with the saintess I didn't particularly like for nothing. Of course I knew she was from the Darius family, but at this point in time, it was odd for me to know that.
She hadn't hidden it exactly, but the weight of the Darius name wasn't something you tossed around casually.
In the end, that precious family pride of hers trips her up.
I suppressed a laugh at Jena, who couldn't back out now and was fidgeting anxiously. Once the Darius name was mentioned, the odds of her breaking her word were near zero.
"You'll keep your promise, right?"
"...Out with it. What do you want?"
Bingo. Jena raised the white flag and asked.
She was biting her lower lip hard—clearly pissed at the situation. I grinned at her and started teasing like it was all a game.
"Come on, a wish from the great Darius family's daughter? Can't just waste it."
At my words, I caught her shooting a venomous glare at the saintess. From her perspective, she had to assume Marian had fed me advice. No need for me to sow discord—their relationship was already toxic—but watching it worsen because of me was delightful.
"I'll think about what to wish for by dinner. So come to my tent tonight."
Her face twisted beautifully at that. Sure, I was the prophesied hero and she the daughter of nobility and captain of the Holy Knights, but a man and woman alone in a tent at night stirred imaginations.
"Say it now."
She scowled unpleasantly. I kept my relaxed smile and leaned in close, whispering in her ear.
"You sure? I don't mind."
"What?"
"...Want to get properly humiliated in front of your men?"
Her eyes flickered. With pride piercing the heavens, Jena wouldn't dream of losing face before her subordinates.
"Fine. You get until dinner."
She said it like she was granting a favor, but I knew she was shaking with fear more than anyone.
* * *
That evening, knights from the Holy Order escorted me to my assigned tent. Treating me like a hero, they'd even set up a small cot inside. I inspected it with satisfaction and thanked the guiding knights.
"...Rest well."
The Holy Knight seemed curious about my wish to Jena but didn't pry. I sat on the cot, waiting for her.
I'd already decided on my wish, anyway. Marian had suggested divine artifacts or sword techniques from the Darius family, but I couldn't care less about that crap.
"You in there?"
How much time passed? Jena's tense voice came from outside. I'd prepared my welcome and told her to come in.
A moment later, she pushed the flap aside and stepped in—her face freezing solid.
"...What the hell is this?"
"What?"
"...Why are you pantsless?!"
Unable to hide her fluster, she blurted it out. I chuckled at her reaction and pressed a finger to my lips.
"Shh! They'll hear outside."
"...Tch!"
Realizing her position too late, she bit her lip in frustration. Mindful of her men outside, she whispered harshly.
"All you want... is my body?"
"..."
"How can a hero be so barbaric and shameless?!"
Imagining who-knows-what, she stared at me with disgust. I savored her reaction before speaking slowly.
"You're misunderstanding. I couldn't care less about your pussy."
"P-pussy? How vulgar!"
Her face flushed crimson. I smirked, stood, and casually stripped off my last undergarment.
"Y-you said you weren't interested—what's this...?"
She squeezed her eyes shut and snapped at me, voice still muffled for the outside.
"Ah, don't get the wrong idea. I just want an apology from you."
"...An apology? What did I do wrong? And who gets one like this?"
Eyes still closed, she demanded. Without that bitchy personality, she'd have a pretty face, I thought.
"Hey, how I get the apology is up to me. I don't like empty words."
"...So what do you want me to do?"
Still shut-eyed, she asked. Her reaction felt kinda cute—fresh compared to Lina, who now opened wide at the sight of my dick.
Not that it changed my feelings for Jena. Just amusing, that's all.
"Simple. Kneel before me and suck my cock, Jena. That's my wish."
Only then did she open her eyes. They burned with loathing and hostility.
Hell, I didn't know I could be this shameless. But once you start, it gets easy. No big deal.