For the Fallen Hero!
In honor of the fallen hero!
“I was wrong… I was so wrong, Hero… I failed to understand your will and committed such acts… Without grasping the noble meaning behind it, I did things worse than a dog…”
Amelda poured out words of apology and regret toward the hero who was no longer present, her voice hollow and steeped in utter despair. Yet even she knew how shameless and repulsive it was to offer such apologies and remorse in a situation where everything had already ended—apologies that could never reach a dead man. They held no meaning and could change nothing. All that remained was her own miserable self, who had betrayed everyone’s expectations after succumbing to pleasure as addictive as a drug, and the empty ache of bitter regret.
And so, in the midst of that terribly belated remorse, as Amelda shed tears of repentance that were both brazen and hypocritical yet undeniably sincere, it happened.
—Creeeeak…
“!”
The door suddenly began to open. Amelda instinctively shrank back, assuming someone had come to torture her again. Her chest was covered in burn scars from endless branding, her back bore countless wounds from brutal whippings, and her knees had been reduced to a ragged mess after being crushed against a floor strewn with broken glass and pressed down with stones. The joints of her left hand were horribly twisted and snapped, no longer able to function. Several of her teeth had even been ripped out while she was still conscious.
They had not yet violated her sexually, but Amelda knew that would not be long in coming.
‘Perhaps… today might be the day. Yeah… that’s right. What does it matter anymore? It might even hurt less that way… After all, a piece of trash like me has no right to feel any further shame even if I’m used like a whore on the street…’
Deep in resignation, Amelda began to picture the miserable future awaiting her.
But then—
“…Huh?”
Instead of the rough intrusion she expected, a hand slipped through the slightly opened door. Though she could not see clearly, the hand—wearing what looked like a witch’s glove—tossed something in front of her and vanished without closing the door.
What caught Amelda’s eye next was a small metal object lying on the floor. The moment she recognized it, surprise flashed in her eyes.
‘This… this is… a key?’
From its shape, it appeared to be the key to the mana-suppressing handcuffs binding her. With a flicker of desperate hope, Amelda tried it immediately.
And—
—Click!
“!”
The handcuffs came off with ease. Amelda had no idea what was happening, but she at least understood what choice she had to make in this moment. Without hesitation she cast recovery magic, restoring her ruined body to a somewhat functional state.
As she healed limbs that had struggled even to stand, suspicion rose first in her mind.
‘Is this another trap? Are they pretending to let me escape just to catch me again…?’
Having fallen for a trap and been recaptured once before, the doubt came automatically. Yet Amelda soon shook her head and made her decision.
‘No. Even if it is a trap, I have to move. My life is already over anyway… I’ll struggle with everything I have to get out of here. And if I succeed… I will carry the Hero’s noble will into this world…’
With the resolve to seize what might be her final chance and the sense of duty to do anything for that person’s honor, Amelda guided her imperfectly healed but now mobile body and cautiously slipped out of the prison.
She passed guards who had been neatly knocked unconscious as if someone had cleared the path ahead, and emerged outside. The hour had turned to night, offering perfect cover of darkness. Amelda moved with utmost stealth, concealing herself in every shadow.
Fortunately there were no signs of pursuit or traps this time. Breathing a sigh of relief, she pressed onward using the natural agility of her elven blood.
She faced several dangerous moments and nearly got caught more than once. Each time, however, Amelda called out to that person in her heart—the name of the hero who had been the apostle of justice carrying out God’s will—and steadied her nerves just enough to slip past the crises.
After overcoming several hair-raising brushes with disaster, Amelda finally escaped the castle.
‘I did it! I actually… I did it! Ah… Thank you, Hero!’
Having broken free from a place that had been pure hell, Amelda offered fervent gratitude to the hero who had been her sole mental anchor throughout her imprisonment. Overflowing with fierce joy, she threw herself into the forest and vanished without a trace.
And then, roughly one week later.
Though she had left the prison looking like a beggar, Amelda now stood once more in the sacred vestments of a paladin. Before the archbishops, the highest-ranking paladins, and even the pope of the Elf Theocracy, she began to recount every detail of what she had experienced—without any filtering.
Of course, that included the twisted “truth” born from her own distorted mind.
“And so… we failed. In the end we abandoned the Hero’s noble and lofty will to defeat the Demon King with every ounce of our thoughts, power, and intent until the final moment. Our Hero Party threw away the golden opportunity God had granted us through him—the chance to end this long war.”
“Such a thing…”
“I knew something felt off. So this was the real story?”
“In the end it was the ugly selfishness of those Empire humans that ruined everything…”
The high officials of the Theocracy stirred violently, each uttering words of shock and fury. But the next moment Amelda spoke to them in a resolute voice.
“However, this is not something for which only humans should be condemned. I too am a sinner who, seized by momentary desire, distorted the Hero’s will and committed grave sin. When the time comes, I will pay for that crime without fail. At that time, I ask that all of you here judge me! But before then… I wish to make an earnest request of the servants of the Theocracy who uphold God’s will.”
Having drawn every eye in the room once more, Amelda stretched both arms forward and cried out in a voice that seemed to burn with genuine faith.
Amelda’s declaration directly refuted the emperor who had been using the current affairs of the Hero Party as an excuse to criticize the Theocracy. The people present responded with passionate fervor, for she had given them exactly the words they needed most in this moment.
Applause filled the assembly hall, accompanied by shouts of resolute determination for war. Until Amelda had spoken, they had been gripped by confusion and anxiety over the “discrepancy in the oracle.” Now, armed with the solid justification of “justice,” they rallied once more with fierce motivation, raising the name of the hero who had become a symbol of righteousness through his “death.”
Watching them, Amelda recalled the face of the man from whom she had ceaselessly begged forgiveness in the abyss of that hell, and steeled her resolve.
‘Please watch over me, Hero. I will restore your noble honor without fail. And when everything is over… please accept my apology in the next world…’
This incident did not occur because the oracle was mistaken. The true cause lies entirely with the members of the Hero Party, who instead of assisting the Hero, hindered him and ultimately betrayed his noble will.
We hereby demand the immediate execution of Aileen, former warrior of the Hero Party and High Priestess of the Falcon Empire, as well as Torare, the porter of Empire origin who incited her. Both are guilty of ruining the divine oracle.
We further demand that the Emperor, who concealed this truth and attempted to wield it as a political weapon, be held accountable for his crimes.
Along with Amelda’s heartfelt speech of repentance came the explosive revelation of this “truth.” Based on her testimony, the Elf Theocracy officially issued the above statement. Its core argument was that the defeat had not resulted from any error in the oracle, but from the Hero Party members who had dragged the Hero down rather than supporting him.
The statement demanded the heads of Aileen—the former hero party member and current high priestess of the Empire—and Torare, the porter who had instigated her. It also called for the Emperor to be held responsible for hiding the truth and attempting to use it for political gain.
Originally the statement should have criticized the other two involved parties as well, but including them would have created an unsolvable dilemma for the Theocracy. Thus, they internally agreed to focus on the primary enemies for now.
In this way the Elf Theocracy, which should have been helplessly beaten while exposing the fatal weakness of the “failed oracle,” instead launched a massive counteroffensive using Amelda’s testimony as its shield.
Yet the Falcon Empire responded not with an apology but with an even harder line, fiercely denouncing both the Elf Theocracy and the pope. They claimed the Theocracy’s assertions were nothing more than the false apostle of God—the pope—spouting nonsense to cover his own sins, and that it constituted an insult to the warriors of the Hero Party who had labored for continental peace as well as to Torare, the porter who had risked his life to save them.
Truthfully, the Empire did not particularly care about Torare’s life even if he had been named the chief culprit. However, having initiated the conflict with that very justification, they had no intention of yielding even one step.
The Magic Kingdom and the Beastman Kingdom maintained a wait-and-see stance for the time being, but even their neutral attitude could not prevent a massive fissure from forming within the racial alliance originally formed to destroy the Demon Kingdom.
In the end the incident escalated into open disturbances along the border between the Empire and the Theocracy. Though small, the spark of conflict between the two nations burned with unmistakable clarity and began to show signs of erupting into full-scale confrontation.
Yet contrary to everyone’s expectations, the disturbances at the border did not immediately flare into all-out war.
What struck both leaderships like a blow to the back of the head was urgent news from Rob, the allied forces’ primary supply base. Reports spoke of catastrophic losses there, followed immediately by the beginning of a massive Demon King’s army counteroffensive—accompanied by tales of the appearance of a “Demon King” clad in black armor.