I Am a Hero

I am a Hero.

I was born an ordinary kid in South Korea, grew up ordinary, and became an ordinary adult. I landed a decent job, and like so many other people, I was living a mundane but not unpleasant life.

Until the day that happened.

I was twenty-five. Something that belonged in the pages of a fantasy novel happened to me. I woke up, and the familiar Korean cityscape was gone. In its place stood a kingdom straight out of a textbook fantasy.

Forcibly sent to another world, I had become a Hero named Kyle.

The king of that place asked me to defeat the Demon King, and I had no choice in the matter. There was nothing I could do here, and if I wanted to return to my original world, I had no other option.

Even after coming to this other world, I was a fairly ordinary Hero. I followed the clichés to the letter. I gained overpowered abilities, obtained a Holy Sword, and above all, I filled my Hero party with beautiful young women.

The blonde elf archer Maisha, known as the Divine Archer. The witch Clotine, who had mastered nearly every form of magic by the age of seventeen. And Floris, the Saintess.

Together we endured hardships and joys, survived brushes with death, and grew beyond recognition. Perhaps that's why we were able to kill the Demon King in just two years.

After we completed our mission, Floris confessed to me. I was a Korean guy who'd gone the all-boys-middle-school, all-boys-high-school, engineering-college route. I couldn't refuse a confession from a beauty like her, so I gave up the chance to return to my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠original world in order to stay here and live with her. Floris, for her part, laid down her title as Saintess to marry me.

The marriage of a former Hero and a former Saintess. Countless people blessed us.

And so an ordinary boy became someone special, met a special woman, and lived happily ever after. That was the happy ending.

If that's what you thought, you were wrong.

A "Hero" was a concept created from the very beginning as the opposite of the "Demon King." Once the Demon King was dead, this world had no more use for a Hero. And so I lost every power I had possessed as one.

Floris had quit being a Saintess, and once we married and became ordinary people, we knew nothing about anything. She had spent most of her life inside the Church to become a Saintess, and I, who had come from another world to begin with, knew almost nothing about this world's society or its economy.

Every now and then someone would recognize us and sing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠our praises, but... well. Does glory put food on the table? It does not.

And so, along with our glory, we were quickly forgotten. Now, twenty years later, people don't really know much about the Demon King or the Hero. It's more of an oh, right, that happened kind of feeling—known as little more than a story.

Still, fortunately, with the lump sum we'd originally had and a little help from the people around us, we were able to settle in a quiet rural village. We got a house that wasn't large, but it was tidy, and we had a son.

So what do I do for a living, you ask?

Allow me to introduce myself again.

I am a Hero.

No. I was a Hero. These days, I farm.

"Hah... hah..."

The hoe in my hands bit into the dirt. I never thought I'd put the body I'd forged swinging a sword in my youth to work like this. Even after fifteen years of grinding away at it, farming is hard. You dig the earth, pick out the stones, spread the fertilizer. You put in all that effort and wait, and you still might come away with nothing. That's farming for you.

And in a summer like this, with the sun beating down? It's hell.

Still, I've got it better than most. These Kyle-brand new potatoes of mine have a decent name at the market. The sweat I'm pouring out right now is what puts clothes on my wife's back and food in my son's mouth. So I don't begrudge a single drop of it.

These are the people I love.

My son goes without saying, and Floris is the same. It isn't as passionate as it used to be, but there's still something between us. Wanting to give the people you love only good things—only the very best—that's how I feel. Isn't that how every man feels?

That's why I'm always sorry. I want to let them live in a nice house. I want to dress them in nice clothes. I want to take them traveling.

A sharp sting.

"Argh!"

I looked down at my hand. Blood was welling up between the thick calluses. Something in the dirt, maybe? Well, I was cut anyway. Might as well take a short rest.

Today's field snack... steamed potatoes.

Yesterday's had been steamed potatoes too. The day before that as well. Lately Floris hasn't been packing me a lunch. It stings a little, but, well. My wife isn't young anymore, and getting up at dawn to cook is no small thing. Still, after three or four hours under the blazing sun, hunger makes the best seasoning. It goes down well enough.

I drank some water and caught my breath.

"—Hey, Kyle!"

Now, who was that? Had something caught fire? Who'd be in that much of a hurry?

A balding man with a bit of a belly... ah. Mr. Balbo, from the corn farm. A genuinely good neighbor. He'd helped us a great deal since we settled in this village. Thank god this world still has some warmth left between neighbors.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Balbo! What are you doing running around on a scorching day like this? We're not as young as we used to be—you've got to think of your health, haha!"

Balbo, still panting, barely managed to catch his breath before he burst out.

"Never mind that right now—"

"What, is there a fire? We haven't seen each other in a while, so why the rush? Come on, sit down. Sit, and then talk."

I sat on the mat I'd spread on the ground, but Balbo didn't.

"What's gotten into you? You're usually the most easygoing man I know. Did something actually happen?"

"This ain't the time for that! Listen—you know old Carl who runs the ranch in the next village over?"

"Ah, yes. It's been a while since I've seen him. Is he doing well?"

"That ain't it. Old Carl just came running into Fred's bakery, and you know what he said? He said your wife showed up in their village at the crack of dawn this morning!"

"Floris did?"

At dawn? I'd been working since before first light. I hadn't had a chance to check.

"That's right. And your boy was with her. Some man too. They were loading a whole carriage full of luggage and heading out, he said!"

That's impossible. My Floris would never—it doesn't make any sense. Someone's got it wrong. That's all.

"Th-that doesn't make any sense! There's no way!"

"Way or no way, we need to get to your house. Now!"

Before I knew it I was on my feet and running for home.

Come on. No way. It can't be...

People had gathered in front of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠house, murmuring among themselves.

"Hey! Get out of the way! This is my house!"

The front gate stood wide open. Inside, the wardrobes, the dishes, everything—gone. The only thing left was a scrap of paper on the floor.

A simple notice, scribbled any which way. That was all.

The world went black. I couldn't breathe. The tears wouldn't even come.

"Oh, Kyle, what's he going to do now..."

"Wasn't that guy a Hero?"

"For a Hero, he's pathetic. Tsk tsk."

"Bringing a Saintess out to a mountain village like this. Of course she left."

What? I did my best. I worked myself to death. For one reason, and one reason only—because I loved them.

"What did you just say?"

My blood ran backward. Before I knew it, my body moved. My fist swung.

"Kyle! Kyle! Calm down! Snap out of it!"

At Balbo's voice I looked down. The face of the man who'd insulted me was a bloody mess.

"Haah... haah... haah..."

I dragged in a ragged breath, went inside, and locked the door behind me.

The only thing filling the empty house was darkness.

Bang. Bang.

The sound of knocking pulled me to my feet.

"Who is it..."

"It's me. Balbo. Open the door."

I undid the lock with difficulty and opened it. Balbo was standing there with a bottle of liquor in his hand.

"You've been shut up in here a whole day... I couldn't help worrying, so..."

"I don't need your pity. Please go."

"This isn't pity. It's just... there are days in a man's life when he needs a drink. Figured today might be one of those days for you. Sit down a minute. Let's talk."

He held out the bottle. I wanted to sit anyway, and he was right about needing a drink.

"You'll want to be alone, so I'll be heading back for today."

Balbo looked at me once, then started toward the door.

"I did my best... I worked so hard..."

I couldn't tell if I was saying it to myself or for him to hear.

"I know. I've been watching you from the start, haven't I? I know you've lived for nothing but your family."

"Then why did I end up like this?"

Balbo looked as if the words had caught in his throat. His face was heavy as he stepped out the door.

"Don't you go ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠getting any foolish ideas. A man who's alive has to keep living..."

"That bitch who used to be a Saintess... what happened to her sense of fidelity..."

I gave up everything for you. Going back to my original world. Living for myself, just enjoying my life. And this is all I get in return?

You were everything to me. What was I to you?

What am I supposed to do now?

I'll just... die. I don't want to live anymore.

I went down to the cellar and dug through the old belongings piled there.

A glint.

A keen, sharp aura. Unlike me, the Holy Sword hadn't lost any of its luster. It no longer held the near-miraculous power it once had, but it hadn't lost an ounce of its beauty.

The sword I'd planned to pass on to my son when he grew up. Perfect for ending my life, then.

I am a Hero.

No. I was a Hero.

Now I'm a pathetic bastard who spent twenty years doing nothing but work, trapped by a lie called love, whose wife ran out on him.

In my original world, they had a word for men like me. Ppongpongnam—the husband who slaves his life away for a wife who doesn't love him.

I aimed the sharp point at my heart.

"Hoo... hoo..."

Now that I'm actually about to die, I'm scared.

I took another deep breath. One. Two.

Three.

I drove it in.

"Hhk."

No terrible pain. No scream. Just one last breath leaving my body. The world went dark.

At last, it was over.

Wait. What's that light?

Birdsong. Do they have birds in the afterlife?

Wait. That man—

"Greetings, Hero."

"What?"

"A prophecy foretold that you would be lying here."

"This is..."

"I am the king of this land. Laplonia..."

"Magnius."

"That is so."

Is this for real?

"I have been told that you alone can defeat the Demon King. I beg of you. Help us."

Did I... come back?