A Poisoned Memory
"Ugh... M-my head..."
"Porter?! Are you okay?! Q-quick, get on my back! Let's go to the temple!"
"I'm sorry... Please..."
A dark, murky energy swirled within the Porter's eyes. The Demon King's Demonic Qi. Contaminated by that cursed energy, the Porter groaned in agony. I immediately hoisted him onto my back and ran. The situation was similar to when we were fleeing from the Demon King, but it wasn't lighthearted like before.
I was simply terrified. I had no idea what the Demonic Qi would do to him.
"Ngh..."
"Hang in there, Porter...!"
Gasping groans echoed from behind my back. The pain seemed to be worsening by the second. I had already made him drink a potion, so his physical wounds were healed, but Demonic Qi could not be purified by potions.
We had to reach a temple. I had to ask a priest for purification.
But even the nearest village was half a day's run away.
It's okay. He can make it. He can endure this...
Right. Demonic Qi. Since it's Demonic Qi...
Couldn't the energy of the stars drive it out? As I ran, I summoned the Holy Sword into my hand and enveloped the Porter on my back with the star's energy.
I felt his breathing ease slightly.
"Hero...?"
"Porter, how do you feel...?"
"...Ah. It feels much better..."
"Thank goodness..."
Fortunately, he no longer seemed to be in as much pain.
The Porter spoke in a weak, faint voice.
"Hero... Do you remember when we were young? When I said I wanted to become a hero..."
"Yes! I remember!"
"Actually, when I said I wanted to become a hero to protect the person I loved... I was talking about you. I was too embarrassed as a kid, so I acted cold... but I've liked you ever since then..."
"Hehe. Actually, I already knew. You've always been a terrible liar..."
Old stories.
As if desperately trying to cling to his memories, the Porter brought up their past, one piece at a time.
Learning swordsmanship together, hunting wild boars in the mountains, being chosen by the stars, studying to become a porter.
In all of his stories, I was always there. Because we had shared every single moment of our lives.
"The one I wanted to save wasn't the world. It was you..."
"Me too, Porter! So, once we get to the temple and purify you..."
"But right now, I hate you."
"...What?"
At his sudden words, I reflexively turned my head to look at him.
The star's energy—it was burning the Porter's flesh.
Startled, I immediately withdrew the energy. Why? How? Why on earth? The Hero's power... hurt the Porter?
"I-I'm sorry! Porter! Let me get a potion—"
"You're disgusting."
"W-what?"
"I hate you. I don't know why I ever liked you. Whether it's the star's energy or the Hero's power, it's repulsive. It makes me want to throw up."
"..."
The Porter's skin, ruined by the burns, began to regenerate at an unnatural speed.
His skin stained a deep, pitch black. His eyes gleamed a burning, fiery red. Horns protruded from his forehead like swelling lumps. The Hero's instinct whispered to me, urging me to slaughter the enemy before my eyes.
Demonization.
He was already a demon.
"Hero, you said you liked me, right?"
"..."
"For the sake of the person you love, won't you die for me?"
He smiled as he uttered words the real Porter would never say.
"You're loathsome. Just the fact that you exist in this world makes me sick to breathe."
"...The Porter would never say that to me."
"I was just holding it in all this time. I have no talent compared to you, you stole my dream... Honestly, I had every reason to envy and resent you. But we needed you to save the world anyway. Because you were stronger than me. I just desperately hid my jealousy and disgust."
It felt like a dagger piercing my chest.
Even though I knew this wasn't the real Porter speaking, a seed of doubt began to sprout.
I stole his dream. The one who wanted to be the Hero was the Porter. What if he hates me because of that?
The doubt and anxiety buried deep in the abyss of my heart swelled rapidly.
"Porter..."
"That's right. To you, I'm just a porter. A convenient tool to carry your things. An errand boy. A subordinate. A slave. Isn't that right?"
"N-no, that's not true...!"
"Then tell me. What is my name?"
"Porter... Your name is..."
What was his name? Wait... why couldn't I remember? It was something I could never forget, so why? How? Why? I knew it. There was no way I didn't know.
"...What did you do to me?"
"Blaming me now? How pathetic."
The Porter laughed. He smiled so widely his mouth split open. No, his mouth literally tore apart. The sky began to melt away, piece by piece.
Within the collapsing world.
Only the Porter and I remained intact.
"You're the one who forgot. That day, as you threw up in the bathroom, emptying your stomach while pretending to be noble, you forced yourself to forget. Because you didn't want to remember. Because you hated it. Because you didn't want to accept reality. You just brushed it off as a nightmare and forgot."
"What... what are you talking about..."
"You know it too. The past can't be changed... and this is just a dream."
"A dream...?"
Ah. I see. A dream... Right. I was dreaming.
I am not the Hero. I am not the Hero, I am...
"Hero. Are you going to deny what you did now?"
"..."
"Look closely. This is what you did."
In my hand was the Holy Sword. And that Holy Sword... for some reason, was piercing straight through the Porter's heart.
"Pfft, hahaha! Disgusting. Hiding your past, smiling and acting all sweet. What do you think that Porter you finally reunited with would say if he knew what you did?"
"No. I didn't do this..."
"Hero. You live such a convenient life, don't you? Swallowing what is sweet, spitting out what is bitter."
"..."
"Yes, exactly. It's all just a dream. That Porter thinks it's all just a dream too, doesn't he? You're deceiving him, pretending to be the savior who rescued him. How noble of you. If the Porter knew what kind of person the Hero truly was, he would never have liked you."
"Stop it..."
"Then, the Porter wouldn't have had to die like this."
The Porter laughed. The thing wearing the Porter's face laughed. The world laughed. The collapsing sky and the fractured void mocked me. The ground shook. My vision distorted. My sense of balance failed, and my body swayed helplessly.
This is a nightmare. A nightmare. A nightmare. This isn't reality. It's just, it's just a dream.
Yes. Let's wake up quickly. Wake up, wash my face, and forget about it.
"And once again, you run away."
And when I opened my eyes again.
"Ah..."
I was lying in bed, drenched in a cold sweat.
My entire body felt damp. A terrible, heavy fatigue weighed down on me.
"I... have to write in my diary."
My gaze drifted briefly to the diary resting on my nightstand.
I had to write. I had to pick up the pen, open the diary, and record the dream I just had...
"..."
In the end, I pulled the blanket back over my face.
Desperately praying that I wouldn't dream again. Cursing my own cowardice. Praying with all my heart that Siwoo wouldn't have the same dream...
I drifted back to sleep once more.
"*Yawn...* I feel surprisingly refreshed."
I didn't have a lucid dream today. Maybe because I was too tired. Well, lucidity isn't always guaranteed.
Even for an experienced dreamer, the success rate of lucid dreaming doesn't actually exceed fifty percent.
Even if you succeed in becoming lucid, you might forget it halfway through, or you might be aware but fail to notice the absurdities around you. Sometimes, you even dream that you've become lucid when you actually haven't.
In short, it's difficult.
Recording these failures in a dream diary is also part of an experienced dreamer's job.
"What was I thinking about before I fell asleep last night...?"
I opened my diary and retraced my memories from right before sleeping. Ah, right. I was thinking about Haneul. I knew it was a ridiculous thought, but... well, it felt like a green light, in a way.
An S-Class hunter would never feel that way, so it was probably just my imagination.
Still, as a guy, I couldn't help but feel my heart flutter.
"Compared to that Hero, who is prettier?"
"Of course you are, Haneul."
"Really? In what way?"
"...Your heart?"
It was such an out-of-the-blue question that I gave a weird answer, but... well, she must have at least a little bit of interest in me, right?
Even if it wasn't romantic, she probably had some friendly affection for me. Maybe she felt more attached because I was someone she rescued. I felt grateful, fluttery, and a bit awkward all at once.
Getting close to an S-Class hunter.
I mean, sure, my senior was also an S-Class hunter, but we had been close since before she awakened. I never really saw her as some grand figure. That was why having a conversation like that with Han Haneul felt so surreal.
Was this how a fan felt after talking to their favorite idol?
Saying I was her fan last time was just an excuse, but now I felt like I was actually becoming one.
I wonder what Haneul is doing right now...
Since it's early morning, is she still asleep? Seeing how she called me so early last time, she seems to be a morning person. Should I send her a text? No, that might be too pushy.
"This much... should be fine."
After hesitating for a moment, I sent a text that wouldn't make me look like a total creep.
The kind of message that didn't strictly require a reply.
Since she seemed interested in dreams last time... if I send this, wouldn't she ask what kind of dream it was out of curiosity? Hmm. Is my ulterior motive too obvious? Well, that's just how guys are.