The Story Begins Again
"Sion. Is there a bed around here?"
"There's one in the bedroom."
To check Sion's condition, it was more comfortable to have her lie down on a bed rather than sitting in the wheelchair. Normally, I'd start by testing muscle strength and motor functions, but for a patient as severely impaired as Sion, the priority was first confirming any special abnormalities.
"This way."
I followed her in the wheelchair that rolled automatically without her needing to push it, entering the bedroom. I should ask how that thing works sometime. The hero's bedroom was just an ordinary room—nothing special. Since she couldn't move around, there was no other furniture besides the bed and a wardrobe, and it seemed she hadn't felt like decorating it either. On top of that, the only thing there was the Holy Sword, coldly cooled off beside the bed, its extraction date unknown.
"Ugh…"
Once inside the room, Sion parked the wheelchair in front of the bed, leaned forward, flopped onto it, and barely managed to twist her body around to lie flat on her back.
"Haa… Is this okay?"
Sion lay limply on the bed, eyes closed, entrusting her body to me. Her long hair, streaked with deep, dark purple, was messily scattered from her desperate wriggling to get into position on the uncomfortable bed. Her breathing was easy to discern from the rise and fall of her chest. She was the epitome of a patient barely clinging to life, but including those broken parts, she looked utterly beautiful to me.
"Good. Now I'll check your muscle mass and joint condition."
Her muscles had atrophied so severely that her slender limbs felt like they might snap if gripped too hard. The weight I'd felt earlier when lifting her was so light it barely registered as human.
I lifted her arm and gripped the upper arm first, checking the triceps. Hmm…
I rotated the joints this way and that, verifying coordination with the muscles, key connection points, branching areas, contraction and relaxation—gauging muscle mass. Down to the wrist for the forearms, then repeating on the other arm. The good news was no major damage to joints or cartilage. Rotation was smooth without issues. Was the only problem really just the muscle loss?
"I'll check your legs too."
Over her clothes, I checked her thighs, lifted and rotated the legs to assess range of motion and pain. No damage here either. Same for the other side… Sion had been injured in the final battle, but unlike Princess Nao, it wasn't severe. Her motor impairment wasn't from injury damage.
"How is it? My body."
Clearly self-conscious about being poked and prodded, Sion craned her neck forward to peer at me.
"Your muscles have atrophied extremely. I have a suspected cause, but…"
It wasn't quite this bad, but I'd seen a similar case during training, which was fortunate. That gave me a hunch, so now I needed to confirm with some questioning.
"I need to ask some things to verify, so please answer honestly."
"Got it."
"When did it start?"
"Around the end of winter two years ago, it gradually got harder to move. Right after the war ended and the postwar events wrapped up…"
"Really?"
"Huh?"
If my hunch about what wrecked the hero's body was right, it wouldn't have happened so suddenly she'd call it "right after."
"Sion. I'm here to heal you. Please cooperate without hiding anything."
"……."
No need to check her body further, so I sat by her head and gazed down at her steadily. She'd been caught hiding something—Sion couldn't meet my eyes directly.
"Can rehab specialists figure that out too?"
"The body doesn't lie."
As I pressed her with a straight gaze, she sighed helplessly and shook her head.
"The first time I felt like my body wasn't moving right… was around when we broke through the northern region. Right before entering the Demon King's Castle formed around the Gate."
That would be about three years and three months ago. One year to breach the north, three months to assault the castle. Endless battles every day, relentless forced marches. So that was it.
Her body had already started failing back then…
"Did you start using Zero Resistance in daily life from then too?"
Sion grimaced as if I'd hit the nail on the head, slowly raising her arm to cover her face over her eyes.
"How the hell do you know…"
Zero Resistance. The ability to nullify pressure in movement areas, breaking speed limits. Given her current state, that power was likely the cause of her body's ruin.
I'd seen a similar case during training at a hospital in Washington, D.C. The characteristic muscle loss in astronauts exposed to zero gravity for long periods. Being near NASA, that hospital had let me observe their conditions and rehab—it was paying off now.
"You moved in Zero Resistance state constantly, in battle and daily life. Don't tell me from the moment you entered the Demon King's Castle… three months of assaults and the final battle in that condition…"
Nothing like this in the novel. Was this the hidden setting? How could this happen… Constant Zero Resistance in battle or daily life means muscles under no load atrophy naturally. It's near-inevitable physically, but confirming it had happened to the hero was unbelievable.
"I knew moving in a resistance-free world would wreck my body. But as it deteriorated, I had no choice but to rely more on the power. If I stopped, this world would…"
Yeah, I get it. She was the hero bearing the world's fate. No one else had breached the northern front to reach the Demon King's Castle entrance. If Sion, Nao, Iri, and Hanamana hadn't broken through, defeated the Demon King, and closed the Gate, humanity would still be fighting endless demon hordes.
If they were even holding the line that long. At the novel's end, the Keroa Empire bordering the north was on the brink of collapse. Once it fell, who knows how long the others could last.
"Thanks to you, the war ended. Now let's get that body moving again."
"No. It's not over yet."
Sion steeled herself resolutely, straining her waist and arms to sit up. I placed a light hand on her back to help, and she managed to lean against the headboard, gazing at me.
The crimson eyes looking at me now burned differently than before—like a tiny flame, but carrying a will that hadn't been there. Not yet her original sun-like blaze, but this must be the light her comrades and this world had seen and trusted in Sion.
"The war two years from now that Dr. Hope mentioned… My role isn't fully done."
"……."
It felt like the hero's adventure was restarting right then—heart-pounding dialogue that stirred my chest. Was this really the same person I'd met at the national cemetery?
"You're heading back to the kingdom tomorrow?"
"Yes, the empire's rehab center is fine, so as planned."
She seemed subtly brighter somehow. No way…
"Then I'll tell Serin. When you leave, pick me up. I'll go to the kingdom like Nao suggested."
Serin—the employee from earlier. There were still concerns about Sion's condition, but we'd check during rehab.
"Sion. We'll go via the Magic Tower. Teleportation circle okay? No strain on your body…"
As rehab medicine's founder, I had Magic Tower teleport rights. The hero Sion did too in the novel, but her condition worried me.
"It's fine. Space transfer magic is pretty comfortable."
"True enough."
"You can use the Magic Tower too, Dr. Hope?"
"Yes. Perks of rehab medicine."
"Teleport rights? Treated like a tower lord or hero."
Hero… The real hero was lying in this bed before me, the one who'd vanquished the Demon King and saved the world. Hearing that from her was something.
"In a postwar era, doctors saving lives like you are the heroes."
"Sion…"
Sion wore a briefly bitter expression but soon regained her energy, smiling faintly.
"It's okay. I know I still have a role."
"……."
That smile she showed me now—was it from genuine joy?
"Then I'll come pick you up tomorrow."
"Yes, take care."
Whatever. As long as I could oversee Hero Sion's rehab, that was enough. If she regained the will to live, great. She'd been practically vegetative earlier.
I was this world's only rehab specialist. Treated like a hero, as she said, doing work for people.
"I still have things to do…"
Sion Laurel, left alone in the bedroom.
"Still, still, still…"
She barely gathered her unresponsive limbs, clutched the Holy Sword to her chest, and curled up trembling on the bed.
"Why me again…"
It had been three years since her body broke and the Holy Sword lost its light. Embracing the coldly dimmed blade preciously, Sion sobbed, murmuring her comrades' names.
"Nao, Hanamana, Iri…"