The Saint Obsesses Over Me, So the Hero Banishes Me
I never imagined my life would turn out like this.
One moment I was just an ordinary college student back on Earth, the next I was summoned to the fantasy world of Newpan as part of a hero's party. They called me the support specialist. Basically, I was the guy who handled all the annoying chores no one else wanted to do.
At first, I thought it was some kind of grand adventure. You know, the usual isekai stuff—fighting demons, leveling up, maybe even scoring a harem if I played my cards right. But reality hit harder than a truck-kun.
The hero was a narcissistic prick with the personality of a wet sock. The saint kept staring at me with those unnerving, obsessive eyes that made my skin crawl. And the rest of the party? They treated me like a disposable NPC whose only purpose was to carry their bags and heal their scratches.
Then came the day everything went to hell.
We'd just cleared a dungeon that was supposed to be our big breakthrough. The hero, in all his glory, decided to "share" the spoils. Everyone got rare weapons, legendary artifacts, mountains of gold. Me? I got a pat on the back and a lecture about how my contributions were "minimal" compared to the others.
I'd had enough.
"I'm out," I told them. "Find another sucker to be your pack mule."
The hero's face twisted with rage. "You dare abandon the party? After everything we've done for you?"
The saint—Eleanor—grabbed my sleeve with trembling hands. Her eyes were wide, almost manic. "Jace... you can't leave me. You belong to me."
That was the moment I realized something was deeply wrong with her. The way she looked at me wasn't affection. It was possession. Like I was a toy she'd claimed and refused to let go.
The hero saw it too. And in that instant, his jealousy flared into something ugly.
"Fine," he snarled. "If you're going to be disloyal, then get lost. I banish you from this party. From this kingdom. From everything."
With a wave of his holy sword, a blinding light engulfed me. When it faded, I was standing outside the capital walls with nothing but the clothes on my back and a system notification floating in front of my eyes.
Hero's Decree: Banishment Activated
You have been permanently expelled from the Hero's Party.
All related titles and buffs have been revoked.
Good luck, loser.
I stared at the message for a long time. Then I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was so damn predictable.
"Fine by me," I muttered. "Screw your prophecy. Screw your destiny. I'll make my own way."
That was the beginning of my life as a mercenary.
Years passed. I wandered the continent, taking every dirty job that paid. I learned how to fight dirty, how to negotiate better, how to turn the internet memes and knowledge from Earth's dimensional rifts into weapons no one in this world could counter.
They started calling me the Mercenary King.
The leader of the Steel Mercenary Group. The man who could turn the tide of any battle with nothing but strategy, sarcasm, and a whole lot of modern psychological warfare. My reputation spread like wildfire. Kings feared me. Nobles courted me. Demons... well, they learned to stay the hell away.
I thought I'd left that whole hero-and-saint nonsense behind me.
Until the letter arrived.
By order of the Imperial Academy of Magic and Swordsmanship,
Jace Allen, Mercenary King, is hereby required to enroll as a special student for the upcoming semester.
Refusal is not an option.
May the Goddess's light guide your path.
I crumpled the letter in my fist.
"You've got to be kidding me."
The academy. The very place where the hero and his party—including that obsessive saint—were currently attending as elite students. The same academy that had once rejected me as "unworthy" during the initial summoning.
Now they wanted me back? As a special student?
I could already smell the political bullshit from a mile away. Someone was pulling strings. Probably the emperor, trying to keep an eye on both the hero and the rising power that was me.
But the real problem wasn't the politics.
It was her.
Eleanor de Valois. The Saint. The woman whose obsession with me had apparently only grown stronger during my absence. According to the rumors my spies brought back, she'd become a completely different person after I left. Cold. Ruthless. Unhinged in her devotion.
And now I was being forced to attend the same school as her.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling of my lavish command tent. The Mercenary King was about to trade his battlefield for lecture halls and exams.
"This is going to be a shitshow," I sighed.
But deep down, a small part of me was excited. Not because I missed the hero or the saint. No. Because this was my chance to flip the script completely.
They thought they could control me? Use me? Obsess over me?
I'd show them what happens when the disposable support character comes back overpowered, untouchable, and armed with every dirty trick the internet ever invented.
Academy life, huh?
Bring it on.