Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Return - Part 2
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"It's over..."
Even though we'd already been deep inside imperial territory for quite some time, the Hero party's marching pace showed no signs of slowing down.
It was because of the Hero's personal circumstances—they had to reach the capital as quickly as possible.
Even stopping to rest in a village would have been better, but she never bothered telling us what those noble circumstances of hers were. She just kept urging us onward.
Of course, the others might already know. There had been plenty of conversations held without me around, and I never really felt like a true member of the party anyway.
But now that the Demon King was dead, shouldn't they at least set me free?
I tried convincing them, "This should be safe enough now, so I'll just head home on my own," but the majority shot it down.
Did they need another slave or sandbag? The Hero, Saintess, and Mage opposed it vehemently.
The Archer screamed that she wanted to part ways with the disgusting porter as soon as possible—even for a few seconds sooner—but once she was outnumbered, her voice naturally grew weaker.
I wanted to cheer her on, but on second thought, I had no desire whatsoever to lash out at her, who despised me without a shred of doubt.
I even hoped the Archer would refuse to stay in a party like this and just leave, but apparently reluctant to part from her cherished comrades after all this time, she gritted her teeth and went along with the majority.
And as always, my daily life was grueling. Mental assaults from the elf and the Mage, handling every trivial chore the Saintess ordered, and then offering up my exhausted body without reservation for the Hero to vent her frustrations on.
But now, it was really, truly coming to an end.
"We're almost there..."
As the capital slowly came into view, it felt like my chest was swelling with emotion.
Or maybe it just felt that way because of my ragged breathing, which had grown endlessly harsher.
I couldn't even mutter to myself too loudly. If I exhaled air too forcefully from my lungs up through my throat, the raw, irritated skin inside would scream in agony.
But even that faint mumbling in my mouth was enough to let me feel the joy.
The Demon King was dead. There was no longer any justification—or even any thought—for me to do anything more.
"It's about time to cover your face. Pashier, you should walk on your own two feet now too. If you keep using levitation magic so comfortably like that, your identity will be exposed in an instant."
"Come now, this is practically a crutch. I understand your situation, but shouldn't there be some consideration for that lord?"
"In any case, no levitation magic. We can't hire anyone or buy a horse here either... Porter. Carry the Mage on your back."
"What?"
She wouldn't be heavy. The Mage's manner of speech and behavior were just like an old man's, but her voice and appearance were practically those of a child.
I'd heard she possessed special power in her bloodline, and her own magical talent was so extraordinary that calling her a genius didn't even do it justice.
Even as a child, she'd been brilliant enough to completely resolve the issue of her lifespan.
But whether she was a genius wasn't my concern, and neither was whether she was lightweight. To begin with, my own body was barely holding itself together.
"You can't even do this? Your frail body collapsed, and now the Saintess is carrying your load in your place!"
The Hero's furious roar shook my entire body. It didn't scare me, but just standing before her drained my strength—and I had none left to spare.
The Saintess had taken my load because I'd finally collapsed at the end of the forced march. The Hero wasn't weak to begin with, and the party's luggage was something she could carry herself anyway.
But she refused to do it, acting as if carrying baggage was some dishonorable, repulsive, lowly task.
And yet, it was the same Hero who'd insisted on reaching the imperial palace as quickly as possible, prodding the others along.
With the elf refusing to go anywhere near the stinking bags and the Mage opting out by claiming the contents would all be mush if levitated for hours, the only one left had been the Saintess.
"Well, this much at the end should be fine, no? I'll climb on, so bend your legs and crouch down over there."
The Mage's babyish voice made my head spin. At first, I'd thought it was cute and pretty, but now it was nothing but repulsive—a voice that filled me with unease and made me sigh the instant I heard it.
Even if I returned to Earth, I doubted I'd be able to take joy in hearing a little girl playing at the playground.
I'd definitely been someone far removed from hatred before falling into this world, but now the list of things I despised was growing one by one.
Part of me wanted to snap back at her. I really wanted to get angry. But I knew all too well that she wouldn't yield.
She was the type who saw agreeing with someone—even if they were right—as a "defeat," unless she'd acknowledged them first.
Besides, I didn't even have the strength left to meet her eyes and speak. I just let out a sigh and hoisted the Mage onto my back.
"Nngh..."
"Why are you so weak? You're not implying that this body of mine is heavy, are you?"
The Mage patted my shoulder with her dainty little hand. Even that tiny punch made me stagger from exhaustion.
"Let's go."
I wanted to add "shut your nonsense," but even squeezing out that single word came out in a hoarse, dying whisper.
The destination was probably the palace, so even crossing the capital wouldn't leave much distance. At least, not compared to the road I'd traveled so far.
"Then, pardon me!"
I ground my teeth and, with her on my back, followed after the Hero once more.
Now it was really, truly the end.
/////
A majestic hymn filled the vast hall. The sacred voices, amplified by holy power, carried an emotion utterly different from a microphone.
Yesterday, the moment we returned, I'd demanded that the king send me back to Earth. But he kept beating around the bush, saying I needed to attend the celebration banquet and exchange proper farewells, dragging it out.
Not that I was standing among the Hero party receiving blessings and welcomes—I was off to the side, draped in some noble's garb, reduced to just clapping along.
"You have performed the most difficult mission faster and more heroically than any before."
The four women knelt before the Emperor, eyes closed, accepting his praise.
It was a bit amusing to see those haughty women simply kneeling before the Emperor, but they seemed to have their reasons. Ones that were hard for me to accept.
"By the will of the Goddess, we have once more protected this world. This is yet another miracle born of your valiant resolve, your spirit of sacrifice, and the Goddess's love..."
The summoning of the Hero and the subjugation of the Demon King were a grand ritual passed down from ancient times. It wasn't a mere battle between humans, but a rite where the Hero—the apostle of the Goddess—vanquished the Demon King, the enemy of the world.
The Empire had existed for over a millennium, and Hero summonings had continued at intervals of several centuries.
They entered dungeons that only the Hero could open, retrieved the armaments prepared by the Goddess, defeated the sealed wicked beasts, and along the way gained the Goddess's prepared powers under the guidance of the Saintess, who followed the Goddess more faithfully than any other.
And the Empire was the nation that summoned the Hero, so the Emperor received the duty of acting as the Goddess's proxy to care for the Hero until the summoning and Demon King subjugation were complete.
That was why even the Archer—who had her nose in the air and viewed all 'human' lifeforms as little more than monkeys or dogs—bowed her head. And why the Saintess, backed by the full support of the priests and beholden to no one, did the same.
"With fewer casualties than any before, crushing the demon forces before the Demon King could even gather his minions—this stands above all previous Heroes."
And as I watched it all from behind, I was bored.
The music was impressive, of course. The only sounds I'd heard for years had been the screams of monsters and the occasional hymn hummed by the Saintess.
The food was delicious too. Aside from the early days of the journey, I'd been forcing down rock-hard dried fruits or risking stomach issues by shoving unidentifiable carcasses into my mouth.
It was all objectively great, but I wasn't happy. The Empire was vast, and the finest foods from every region would surely find their way to this palace.
It was delicious. I wasn't one to hunt down fancy restaurants, but I was certain no food from Earth could compare.
And yet, I wasn't happy.
My famished stomach was screaming like a possessed demon for something—anything—to fill it. I crammed food into my mouth mechanically, but there was no joy.
I just... wanted some cup ramen.
Not because it was the best. It was probably because that artificial flavor and spiciness were tastes utterly impossible to find here—tastes I'd never encounter in this world.
I realized it then.
I hated this place.
Just like how the Mage had made me hate children's voices, and the Archer had made me hate the entire elven race.
There were too many negative memories this world had left me with. I couldn't enjoy a single thing anymore.
The celebration dragged on into the night. Though I was dressed as a noble, no one approached me since my face was unknown to them all.
It looked like the banquet would continue all night, and I didn't have the patience to stick around any longer.
After downing the strongest liquor available, I slipped into the garden connected to the hall, leaned neatly against a tree, and went to sleep.
Believing that tomorrow, I could truly go home.