Flashback (1): Scars That Refuse to Remain
…Damn it.
It had seemed like I was finally enjoying a decent meal, but my appetite vanished in an instant.
“What a mess…” The chunks of fish I’d vomited up had ruined the fire I’d carefully built and the comfortable spot I’d claimed. Nothing was usable anymore.
“For now, I’ll just cover it with dirt and move on.” I kicked loose soil over the mess with a few half-hearted scrapes of my boot. Once it was hidden, I considered which direction to head next.
“I can’t… go back to the kingdom.”
People had come to hate me. No—more than that, the very fact that a single spell could twist people’s hearts so completely had shattered my mind. It was exactly like those clichéd novels I’d once read: The Medicine of Being Hated. The kind of story where every ounce of goodwill and affection flips into disgust and hostility, slowly destroying the protagonist. I never imagined I would become that protagonist.
I wanted to understand them. Because none of it had been their fault.
The Demon King—the one who cast the spell—was already dead, erased from this world. The Goddess had annihilated his very existence, so there was no longer any point in holding a grudge. Which meant the only person left was… me.
“Where am I supposed to direct all this helpless rage…?”
Who should I blame? How could I release it?
I lit a new fire and forced my mind to calm. The word dead itself felt wrong. I had taken countless monster lives to reach this point. And yet here I stood—someone who had died to those same monsters and come back. The whole thing was so bizarre and grotesque that I sometimes avoided even questioning whether I was truly alive, or whether this was all just a dream.
All I wanted right now was to sit by the fire and reclaim some semblance of the peace I had forgotten. After all, there had been no such luxury during the journey. Every single step forward had been accompanied by the sight of corpses—people torn apart by demonic beasts. The further we advanced, the more bodies we found. Adventurers and kingdom soldiers had done everything they could to thin their numbers, but in the end the only real solution was to kill the Demon King. Beyond normal breeding, his authority created dimensional gates from the demon realm. Monsters poured through them, built fortresses, and turned those strongholds into dungeons.
If we could, we erased them on sight. If we couldn’t, we reported them to the nearest guild or stationed kingdom troops. That was our life—minimal rest, maximum effort, all the way to the Demon King. The pure, romantic adventure I had read about in novels and dreamed of? It didn’t exist. All I had was the knowledge that these women were close to me, beautiful and kind, and that someday they would find their fated partners. I told myself that once this blood-soaked battlefield was behind us, I too might regain a measure of peace. Was that such an outrageous wish? Was it worth tearing one man’s body and soul to shreds and forcing him to live on as nothing but a tattered rag?
I had sworn not to think about it, but the moment I realized I was breathing in the thick aura of death, Woojin began slapping his own cheeks. Yet the gloom in his heart refused to be shaken off so easily.
Another reason he could never return was the front lines. He never wanted to set foot there again. The memories of contempt, disdain, and being kicked while covered in filth might resurface. The races he had trusted—comrades who once watched his back—had shot arrows into him. When he begged for healing, they answered with venomous curses. The moments they had once spent comforting and embracing one another had twisted into merciless abuse and scorn. Enough. Stop. He had to let them go. That was the only kindness he could offer both himself and them.
The pain had lasted only the final instant of their long adventure—a mere blink compared to everything that came before. He refused to become the petty villain he had once despised: the kind of trash who lavished favor on others only to condemn them completely over a single mistake. Yet the fact that he could now understand those narrow-minded people filled him with such self-disgust that all he could do was tear at his hair and scream into the dense forest.
For now, that was all he could manage.
At first, the announcement that the Goddess had chosen me sounded utterly bizarre. After all, wasn’t the one who saved the world and married the princess supposed to be a male knight? Someone might call it clichéd, but every fairy tale I read as a child followed that exact pattern. Still, I decided this was fine too. A female knight saving the world—it made my heart race.
So why was there another person here with me?
Thinking back, it must have been the man I met on that dark road. We were strangers. He was just trudging home after a late shift, exhausted. A man in the same situation as me. His hollow eyes reminded me of how I looked after pulling all-nighters at my part-time job, so I smiled without thinking.
But he was pitiful. I had become a hero and received both immense strength and a fortified mind—clearly the power of a blessing—while he had nothing. He had simply been dragged along with me. The Goddess only granted one blessing. Those caught in the selection received nothing.
I told him the journey ahead would be dangerous and asked him not to follow. Once everything was over, I promised I would tell him the whole story.
“Then we’ll set out—”
“Waaaaait!”
The man who kicked the door open and came running was Han Woojin—the very person I had tried to leave behind. Despite my warnings, he stood there panting, wearing ill-fitting armor, an awkwardly belted sword, and a massive backpack that looked ready to crush him.
Wait… no way.
“Han Woojin! I wish to become the hero’s squire and assist on her journey!”
“…I told you it would be dangerous. You don’t even have a blessing—”
“Please allow it!”
“Even if I did allow it—”
“I permit it.”
Huh?
“The one best suited to embrace a visitor from another world is another visitor from that world. His courage alone is commendable, therefore he shall accompany the hero as her squire…?”
Erika stared at Woojin with an utterly dumbfounded expression. She belonged to the race sometimes called the beloved ones—elves. In movies and novels, elves were always described as peerless beauties or impossibly handsome men. It was true. Standing next to her made me feel almost guilty for how plain I looked.
Anyway, I was just as stunned. When exactly had this guy started planning all of this?
“Please don’t look at me like that. You’re the hero after all… Kang Daeun? Miss? Whatever the title, sending you off alone on such a harsh journey seemed wrong.”
“That’s. Why. I. Specifically. Told. You. Not. To. Follow, Woojin. I have a blessing, so both my mind and body are several times stronger. But you—an ordinary person, or at best comparable to an apprentice knight—do you really think you can endure this journey?”
I thumped my chest twice. Why is she doing that?
“But the hero isn’t omnipotent, right? Cooking, camping, reading maps—those miscellaneous chores. I’d gladly handle them. Would anyone else? I doubt many people would willingly take on such dirty work all the way to the end of a brutal journey.”
He didn’t look reliable at all. Not in the slightest… so why was the saintess gazing at him with such a moved expression?
“What sincere dedication and noble spirit of sacrifice! Hero, he will surely be essential to our journey!”
I doubt it. Look at him puffing up with pride after a single compliment. Good grief.
“Cooking? You know how to cook?”
You’re focusing on the strangest details, archer.
“When you live alone, you have to learn how to take care of yourself. I’ll handle all the chores. You three just focus on saving the world. Sound good?”
“Sounds like a terrible deal for you.”
“No, that’s not what I—”
I sighed. “Fine. But if you run away midway, I’ll cut you down on the spot. What was that saying again? A scar on the back is a man’s shame, or something like that.”
“Hiiik…”
“Heh, that’s actually pretty cool. Woo-jin, was it? If you run, I’ll add some arrow scars to go with the sword wounds.”
Watching his face crumple made me feel strangely satisfied. If he was volunteering to be worked to the bone, there was no reason to refuse him.
To be honest, the mental protection granted by the blessing proved completely useless.
“Ugh.”
After cutting down monsters—beings that weren’t human—the wounds I inflicted were so gruesome I could barely stand it. I couldn’t control my strength; severed limbs, decapitated heads… Ah, I imagined it again—
“Bleeegh! Urgh!”
He came running over with a horrified expression.
“Want me to pat your back? Are you okay? Did you get poisoned or—”
“No, it’s not that… My stomach is just upset. Really.”
“Here, water. Rinse your mouth first. Follow me. Some fresh air should help.”
I rinsed my mouth with the water he offered and followed him to a fairly wide clearing dotted with flat stones. The rest of the party was already there. The saintess was still crying from the shock of our first real battle, while Erika comforted her but couldn’t hide her own exhaustion.
We had set out with such high expectations. This was nothing like the glittering tales of knights rescuing princesses.
“Sit here for a while, drink some water, and rest. I’ll… clean things up and come back.”
“Why bother cleaning that? It’s hideous. Can’t we just leave it?”
“This forest has more than just the monsters we fought earlier. There are also wolves that have turned feral. We can’t let them catch the scent.”
“Then I’ll help—”
Just thinking about fighting again made my stomach turn.
“See? You’re still not well. Rest. If we end up in another battle, your role will be the most important.”
“…Okay.”
It looked like it would take a lot longer before I grew used to this madness. And I was grateful to him. Without him, I might have abandoned the journey long ago. In fact, was it even sane to send just the four of us straight toward the Demon King? Had the authors of those fairy tales been in their right minds?
Three months had already passed since we set out. We still had a long way to go before reaching the Demon King’s Territory, but somehow we were managing. At first I would vomit after cutting down those blue, muscular monsters. Now slicing through enemies in pitch-black armor barely affected me. Whenever our strength began to wane, he would appear with simple snacks and fan us, making even the heavy armor feel a little lighter. Or perhaps the new armor he had acquired was simply that much better. I had already broken countless swords. I couldn’t even remember how many. Before I knew it, another blade would simply appear in my hand. Just as he said, it felt like I was endlessly cutting my way forward.
Still, when I looked back, there were many pleasant memories from the journey. Woojin’s nightly cooking classes. Erika’s cooking attempts that somehow turned into bombs even when she followed the recipe exactly. …Ugh, that had been awful. The saintess, who was supposed to taste-test, panicked and shoved a bite into Woojin’s mouth. He let out a single “Kek!” before fainting. It was so funny I almost laughed out loud—though I knew I shouldn’t. The saintess tearfully cast Heal over and over while Erika, face deathly pale, tried to eat her own failed dish. In the end two people were unconscious and the saintess was left babbling “Awa wa…” What a complete self-destruct show.
Honestly, this world was subtly much more enjoyable than Earth had ever been.
By the way, how was I even understanding what they were saying? The blessing explained it for me, but what about Woojin? I should ask him once he woke up.
“If it’s about language, here. An artifact.”
He showed me the necklace he always wore. He must have obtained it at some point.
“Right after we arrived, even though we came here together, you suddenly started speaking a strange language. I had to gesture wildly to explain that I couldn’t understand. So I received this. A necklace enchanted with translation magic.”
He really was thorough. When we needed time to wash the blood from our bodies, he would pull spare clothes from his backpack and hand them to us. After we finished, he would guide us to the campsite he had already prepared, then finally wash himself. He was an excellent person.
Just as he had promised, he gave us his utmost support. While we slept with our exhausted bodies, he would rise early to buy weapons, swords, arrows, and spare bows, adding them to his pack. Even though he must have been tired, whenever we struggled he gladly took our burdens and carried them on his own back. We should have been less tired. We were supposed to be stronger. Yet he willingly lightened our load and placed it on his own shoulders as if it were nothing.
I was grateful. No—that wasn’t enough. I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to repay the kindness he had shown me and my companions. Before I knew it, my eyes were always following him. His face, his actions, and above all, his gentleness—they made my heart race. I liked the man who gently embraced a woman covered in blood and offered her comforting words. Every time self-loathing and resentment toward the world threatened to crush me, he pulled me from the abyss like a knight from a fairy tale. As the journey continued, I realized he was becoming my everything.
I would treasure this feeling. Because someday, I would have to tell him.
“Now…”
“From here on, this is the front line. The enemies will be far more dangerous than anything we’ve faced so far. The village atmosphere is terrible, as expected. Avoid any unnecessary conflict. Let’s split up and gather information. There may be reports of new monster types.”
In what could be considered the true beginning of our journey, we parted ways. Looking back now, I don’t understand why that decision didn’t feel strange, why it never raised any alarms. I should have known something was wrong. I, who was supposed to lead everyone, had failed to do so. The realization filled me with unbearable fury. I should have been more cautious, yet I wasn’t—
“Grind.”
I unconsciously clenched my teeth. The pain was sharp enough to make my jaw ache, but the sensation vanished almost immediately. One of the hero’s powers—the Unyielding Body. As long as the wound wasn’t fatal, it slowly healed the body. On the surface it sounded like a cheat ability. It had certainly helped strengthen the body I had trained so rigorously. But now I hated it, because it refused to let any evidence of my self-punishment remain.
No matter how many times I flogged myself with a penitent’s whip, slashed my wrists with a dagger, or slammed my head against the wall until it bled, what remained was only a broken whip, a dulled blade, and a cracked wall. My body bore no marks at all.
He had died. He died, and then came back to life.
Was that truly something to be grateful for?
He must have been writhing in betrayal and unimaginable pain. She didn’t want to imagine how someone with no power at all had met his end.
“Huuuk… haa.”
She drew a ragged breath. She wanted to rip off this suffocating armor. Sweat poured down like rain, and the stench of her own body was overpowering. Yet she did not remove it. The choice to remove it had never existed.
When she let her guard down, her emotions had been manipulated. The moment that black-robed man grabbed her face and cast his spell, she had missed it. She forgot all about it until after the Demon King was dead. Only after receiving the Goddess’s oracle did she learn the truth.
Who was the hero? Who was the warrior? Who—
“A knight who saves the world? Don’t make me laugh. As if.”
The quietly murmured words were steeped in thick self-loathing. She denied the path she had chosen, the noble path of a hero she had walked, and the horrific journey that had finally ended with the Demon King’s death. To the point that she could no longer call herself anything at all.
Now she was neither a hero nor anyone of worth. In her own eyes she was an unforgivable evil woman who deserved death—someone no better than the Demon King himself. She refused to allow such a person any comfort. Instead of the light armor he had once obtained for her, she wore thick steel plate that ordinary weapons could barely scratch and an iron helm that protected against mental magic. She had covered her own face. She would accept no expression, no excuse, no rest.
Atonement. That was all that remained.
The reins were pulled tight. The carriage surged forward. None of the passengers voiced a single complaint. They too believed this was only natural. They could not permit even a moment of comfort.
He was surely still writhing in agony. And that pain was something they must bear. Just as he once had for them.