Arsen's Hero (1)

A few quiet days had passed since the intense events of the dungeon, and a heavy silence now permeated the grand halls of the Esperand Mansion.

The lights within the expansive indoor training hall remained brilliantly lit even as the night deepened into its darkest hours. Pale moonlight filtered through the intricate stained glass windows, casting a long, sharp silhouette of a man engaged in a solitary and mesmerizing sword dance.

This was Camille Esperand—the formidable individual who had previously defeated Shion Esperand and secured his position as the designated successor to lead the family's elite guild of assassins. Each precise swing of his unique, cross-shaped sword left behind ethereal trails of pale green afterimages that flickered in the dim light.

He raised his blade high above his head before sweeping it horizontally in a single, fluid motion that seemed to cut through the very air, cleanly finishing his grueling routine. He had only stopped because of the hurried, echoing footsteps that were now reverberating down the stone corridor toward him.

Bang!

"...Young Master Camille!"

The heavy training hall doors flew open with such force that they threatened to shatter against the walls. Camille paused, shooting a cold and piercing glare at the sudden, frantic intruder.

"...What is the meaning of this interruption?"

"I apologize, but there is urgent business that required your immediate attention! They insisted it be delivered with the utmost speed, so I rushed here as fast as my legs could carry me!"

Camille eyed the woman with a look of quiet confusion and annoyance. It was a strictly enforced, unspoken rule within the mansion never to disturb a high-ranking member during their training—especially for a maid, who was expected to follow such protocols with absolute rigidity.

...Under normal circumstances, she would never dare to do anything that might get on his nerves in this manner.

The maid who had burst into the hall was Armin Dias. With two full years of dedicated service under her belt, she was far from the type of person to make such amateur and disrespectful slip-ups.

But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before Camille could voice his reprimand, Armin politely extended the newspaper she was clutching tightly in her hand.

"Please, Young Master! You must take a look at this first!"

Camille took the paper from her with a reluctant and impatient expression. His eyes scanned the headlines impassively at first, but then they began to tremble with shock as his grip tightened, crumpling half the sheet in his sudden agitation.

"They actually captured a Demonkin... and Shion Esperand was the one who did it?"

The featured article contained vivid photographs taken from the aftermath of Arsen’s mock dungeon: the monstrous Demonkin that had infiltrated the exercise was clearly visible, with Shion and Rebecca credited for their direct contribution to its subjugation. There was no possibility of this being a fabrication—the news had come directly from a major national broadcast network.

Shion, whom the family had assumed would simply fade into obscurity after being sent away to Arsen Academy, had not only encountered a high-level Demonkin but had successfully neutralized it instead.

'He actually managed to pull it off, in the very end.'

Camille was genuinely shaken by the revelation. Armin Dias might not have been privy to the details, but as the family's lead assassin, Camille had overheard the dark rumors circulating through the mansion's shadows.

Shion had dared to object to the family's cold assassination plans; the elders had vehemently opposed his defiance, but the patriarch—Duke Esperand—had ultimately overruled them. However, their father had attached a lethal condition to that mercy: a trial designed to placate the elders and test whether Shion still possessed any worth.

They had intentionally sent a dangerous target to Arsen as a test of his resolve. By succeeding, Shion had passed his father's trial and established himself as a full-fledged Esperand assassin on his own terms, proving his place within the family hierarchy without surrendering his will.

'I truly believed that going to Arsen meant he had simply given up on us and left for good.'

Instead, Shion had expertly turned the tables, proving his undeniable worth and effectively silencing the critical elders of the family. Camille found the move to be incredibly bold, yet it filled him with a lingering worry; he could only hope that Shion's rising influence wouldn't eventually draw their father's true ire.

Creak—!

"Young Master Camille."

Another maid arrived moments later, Salria Depon, who belonged to the same cohort as Armin. Unlike the frantic Armin, she held a formal, official document with an air of grave importance.

"I have an urgent notice that requires your immediate confirmation and signature."

"Something else for me to confirm? What is it now?"

"This is an official dispatch sent directly from the higher authorities of the Esperand family."

Camille took the document with a heavy heart. Unlike the public news in the paper, this was an internal directive. He had half-expected it to be related to Shion's recent exploits, but the content was entirely different and far more demanding.

"The Esperand Elder Council officially announces that the regular magical beast subjugation campaign will commence shortly."

"...Already? It feels far too soon for that."

"Yes, Young Master. The population of magical beasts within the Esperand territories has surged unexpectedly, likely as a direct fallout from the recent gate incident in the neighboring province."

Camille carefully folded the document and handed it back, turning his gaze away to hide his thoughts. The moonlight now completely bathed the training hall, signaling that it was well past midnight.

"I was under the impression that the subjugation wouldn't be scheduled until the autumn season."

"It seems the situation has become unavoidable, I suppose."

While the beast subjugation season occurred regularly, this particular summons was abnormally early. A nearby gate incident provided a logical explanation, but Camille couldn't shake the feeling of unease.

"Wait, what is the plan for those family members who are currently dispatched on external missions?"

The children of the Esperand family were often sent away for practical experience, and it was currently the peak season for high-stakes commissions. This included the likes of Yohan Esperand and Sierra Esperand.

Shion was away at Arsen, but Yohan and Sierra were deep in the field, engaged in high-level scouting and hunting assignments.

"Once the official notice is formally issued, every member of the family will be recalled to the mansion immediately. From what I have been told, there will be absolutely no exceptions allowed."

In the Esperand family, external missions were important for profit, but blood duties to the family always took precedence. They would be expected to drop their assignments mid-task if the patriarch demanded it. Once the schedule was set and the notice served...

'Shion, Yohan, and Sierra.'

Even Shion Esperand, despite being a student at Arsen Academy, would be forced to return to the mansion the moment the official summons reached him.

Three full days had passed since the intense struggle to conquer the mock dungeon, and time had seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye for everyone involved.

The uncleared sections of the dungeon were forcibly closed by the faculty, and the surviving cadets were reverse-summoned back to the safety of Georged Hall. Many of them emerged battered, bruised, and in exceptionally poor physical condition.

The vast majority were immediately escorted to the infirmary by the concerned faculty members, and Sion Illeionhart was the most prominent example of these casualties.

While he had earned a significant amount of bonus points for his incredible feat of slaying the infiltrator Demonkin, he had paid a heavy price with his health—now finding himself forced to cross the infirmary threshold daily like some sort of unlucky regular.

The cadet reporter squad known as 'Eleanor', which spent its days scouring Arsen for the latest gossip and news, had finally managed to track down Sion Illeionhart after four solid hours of searching.

"...So, there is a very high probability that he is currently at the student council building."

"Are you absolutely sure about that? What if this turns out to be another dead end like the last three leads?"

"This time the information is solid. We have a reliable eyewitness account."

"You said that exact same thing last time! Who even gave you this tip?"

"It was Kyle Ivanstair—the top-ranked cadet of this entire exercise."

Ah... well, that certainly changed things.

Before the secretary cadet could offer another word of protest, the squad leader Yelena flung the door open with a boldness that bordered on reckless. The entire group flinched at her sudden and noisy entrance.

"Excuse us! We are here for a quick, exclusive interview! Can you spare a few moments of your time for the press?!"

Beyond the firmly shut door, they found one cadet and one adult engaged in a quiet conversation. Ignoring the adult for a moment, they focused on the male cadet, who was unmistakably their target...

'We finally found him.'

It was indeed the Sion Illeionhart they had seen in the photos. He turned away from his reluctant medical check-up, clearly looking annoyed and exhausted by the sudden commotion.

"...What is the meaning of this? Why show up so suddenly?"

"We are the official Eleanor reporters! We have a few pressing questions regarding the dungeon incident!"

A frowning woman rose from her seat—the owner of the infirmary and the school's highly respected nurse.

"Hold on just a moment. There is a recovering patient in this room, so what on earth do you think you're doing—"

"It's fine, let them stay for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a second."

To everyone's surprise, Sion Illeionhart waved her off with a tired gesture. At the very least, they had avoided being kicked out immediately.

"The hero of Arsen, Sion Illeionhart! Are you truly okay with giving us an interview right now?!"

The reporters were already preparing their pens, sensing that there was no way he could back out of the interview now that they had him cornered.

Sion's brow furrowed in frustration as he instinctively shook his heavily bandaged right hand.

"I am certainly no hero of Arsen, and I am definitely not in the mood for any formal interviews. As you can clearly see for yourselves, I am currently a patient in need of rest."

"And who told you that it was a good idea to try and unwrap that cast by yourself?" the nurse interjected sharply.

"It was necessary. If I hadn't pushed myself in that moment, we wouldn't have been able to catch the Demonkin. The outcome could have been significantly worse for everyone."

His argument was that he had willingly sacrificed the well-being of his right arm to take down the monstrous Demonkin. That was the official stance Sion Illeionhart was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠taking.

The nurse scowled, finding it difficult to counter such a cold and logical statement. As a medical professional, it was hard to accept his recklessness—but she ultimately had no choice but to yield.

"I will give you one single statement instead. I will not be taking any follow-up questions."

"Yes! One line is more than enough for our headline article!"

"...There was nothing special about it."

Sion scratched his ear awkwardly, looking as though he found the sudden attention to be deeply uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

"We simply fell into a hidden trap by chance, and the Demonkin happened to be waiting there. Rebecca was with me at the time, so we worked together to take it down."

"...I beg your pardon? That's all?"

"That is precisely it."

It was an incredibly short, yet technically accurate summary of the chaos; Yelena slowly lowered her camera, feeling a bit deflated.

"It feels as though a massive amount of detail has been omitted from that story. Is this really all you're going to give us?"

"I already told you—no more questions."

"Wait! Just a few more details about the circumstances...!"

Sion waved them off as if they were nothing more than persistent flies.

"The interview is officially over. It's time for you all to leave."

"Just one more line for the readers...!"

Click— The nurse took that as her cue and firmly shut the door in the reporters' faces.

The silence that followed reminded Sion of the quiet moments he once had at the Esperand Mansion. He cleared his throat to break the tension.

"Anyway, it looks like you two have some official business to attend to. Sion Illeionhart."

"Why are you suddenly using such a formal and distant tone with me?"

The shift in her voice was chillingly sharp.

"The bone has been set properly, fortunately for you. However, it is still incredibly unstable. You are to engage in absolutely no vigorous exercise or combat training."

"First off, I'm not wearing a cast anymore."

"And what do you plan to do if the bone heals incorrectly because of your stubbornness?"

"You were the one who just said it was fine."

The nurse tilted her head briefly, her eyes narrowing as she studied him.

"I said the bone was set properly. I also said it was unstable. Do not confuse the two."

"Are you trying to play word games with me right now?"

"I wouldn't even dream of doing such a thing to a 'hero' like you."

Sion stood up, testing his balance.

"There's no need to worry—I won't be doing anything vigorous anyway. I doubt I could even if I wanted to."

He had completely drained every single ounce of his stamina, mental strength, and mana reserves during the fight. The aftereffects were severe. Furthermore, his exposure to the corrupting energy of the Demonkin meant a future filled with frequent infirmary visits, mandatory meetings with Isabel Priest at the faculty housing, and a grueling schedule of rehab and rest. It was a hellish routine waiting for him.

If that didn't qualify as "vigorous" or "exhausting," then nothing did. It was a fair point to make.

"Thanks for everything anyway. I'll see you around."

"Don't come back. Ever."

"Pardon me? That's a bit harsh, isn't it?"

"It is always better to avoid the infirmary. Avoiding this place means you've suffered fewer injuries. It's always better to be safe than to be my patient."

Her advice was simple: don't plan on getting hurt—plan to avoid it entirely. It was her own unique way of showing concern.

But Sion knew all too well that half of the mess he found himself in was the result of completely unforeseen accidents. And accidents, by their very definition, always strike suddenly and without warning. They were often unpreventable.

Still, he agreed with her sentiment a hundred times over. One couldn't block every threat 100% of the time, but one's actions could certainly approximate that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠goal if they were careful enough.

That was my specific role in this narrative. It was something only I was capable of doing in this strange and dangerous world.

Once he was outside, Sion checked his watch and logged into the academy's community portal, quickly scanning the new article that had been posted yesterday.

The title caught his eye immediately:

 An investigative piece from the Eleanor squad.

A small, knowing smirk escaped his lips. 'If you're going to go through the trouble of snapping photos, the least you could do is make sure they're framed correctly.'

At the top of the post were massive, high-quality shots of Kyle and Iri taken just after the dungeon had been cleared.

May your future path be guided by luck.