The More His Comrades Rested, the Stronger the Hero Became
I slumped forward, forehead pressed against the creaking table, and let out a deep sigh.
"Haaah."
A single bowl of long-cold stew sat forlornly on the dining table. The leftover bread had hardened like stone, and half a cup of lukewarm water remained in the mug. It all looked uncomfortably like my life—cold, stiff, and utterly devoid of hope.
Gerard glanced once at the rock-hard bread and exhaled a quiet sigh of his own.
"Here we go again."
"Keh-keh. Your face is rotting right off, Hero."
Even Drake's jab couldn't coax a reply out of me. I just stared blankly at the ceiling like an old man who had already lived through everything. The only sound filling the silence was the rustle of Reno flipping through the ledger.
"If this is about meal expenses, I'm already aware. Until the reward money from the next mission comes in, extra meat is out of the question."
"Don't say realistic things like that. It hurts."
When I mumbled the words weakly, Noah pushed a steaming cup of tea toward me with a worried expression.
"Sir Zick, is something troubling you?"
"There is. A massive problem. If I could meet the me from three months ago, I'd slap him across the face just to stop him."
Ainz, who had been watching my pitiful display, closed the thick tome of magic he had been reading and gave a gentle laugh.
"Everyone ends up with at least one past they wish they could take back. Don't be too hard on yourself—just tell us."
Regret washed over me. I roughly scrubbed both hands down my face and muttered in a crawling voice.
"I created a welfare system for the party."
The whole mess had begun on a night that had seemed dazzlingly bright and beautiful—three months earlier.
Three months ago, the night Noah joined the party.
All six of us had gathered around a corner table in the inn's first-floor dining room. The space was cramped and drafty, yet somehow everything felt perfect that night. Ainz, Gerard, Drake, Reno, Noah—and me. At last our full six-man party was complete, and we were about to take our first real step together.
I clenched my fist, riding a wave of pure excitement.
"All right. This is where it really begins."
"Keh-keh. With a priest on board, we finally look like a proper party."
Drake bared his teeth in a grin, and Noah bashfully lowered his head.
"I may be lacking, but I will do my utmost to support you all."
Amid the warm chatter, Gerard crossed his arms and let a subtle pressure settle over the table.
"You haven't forgotten the conditions I set before signing the contract."
"Private room and guaranteed regular leave, right?"
"Correct."
Gerard's expression was as blunt as ever, but his eyes were utterly serious.
"When you cross the line between life and death with a sword in hand, rest is not optional. Marching onto the battlefield exhausted doesn't just endanger yourself—it drags the entire party into the grave with you."
"You're not wrong."
Overwork ruined people in my previous life in Korea just as thoroughly as it did in this world of swords and magic. That was when Drake casually raised a hand and cut in.
"Oh, Hero. I've got a question too. Can a thief like me apply for that regular leave of yours?"
"You need time off?"
"Even thieves have their own circumstances."
Drake smiled with shameless innocence.
"Hmm."
I rubbed my chin and thought it over. At first I had treated it as Gerard's personal demand, but Drake's words made perfect sense. From here on we would face bloody battles, exhausting camps, and constant healing—day after day of brutal routine. Keep that up without rest and people break. Memories of black-company slaves back in Korea, eyes dead because they couldn't even take proper leave, made me shudder. I refused to put my party members through that hell. Rest when you need to rest, and you'll swing the sword better for it. Besides, a leader who handed out bold welfare benefits looked damn cool.
"All right."
My sudden mutter made Gerard's brow furrow sharply.
"What's all right?"
"Let's introduce welfare to our party."
"Welfare?"
Reno narrowed his eyes. The word wasn't unfamiliar, but he was clearly calculating what brand-new absurdity I was about to unleash.
Meeting those suspicious stares head-on, I puffed out my chest with confidence.
"The Monthly Leave system."
Everyone fell silent for a moment, turning the unfamiliar term over in their minds. Noah was the first to speak, carefully folding his hands.
"By Monthly Leave, do you mean setting aside one rest day per month?"
"Exactly."
I raised my index finger for emphasis.
"One day a month. Anyone can take it. No questions asked. Whether you're sick, just want to lie around, or need to maintain gear—each person picks the day they want and rests."
"No questions asked?"
Gerard lowered his voice, sounding unconvinced. In a harsh world where the only holidays were festival days, Zick's idea of unconditional monthly rest was simply alien.
I nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Yeah. If you have to justify every reason for resting, it's not leave—it's an interrogation."
The air in the room shifted strangely after that. A faint smile tugged at the corner of Gerard's otherwise expressionless mouth. Drake's ears perked up. Noah clasped his hands and gazed at me, while Ainz stroked his beard with a meaningful smile. Finally Reno adjusted his glasses and spoke.
"I approve of the system."
"That was fast."
"Because it's a good system."
"I'm in!"
"I also approve."
"Even an old man finds rest sweet."
Starting with Reno, Drake, Noah, and Ainz all voiced their support one by one. Gerard thought for a moment, then spoke as if tossing the words away.
"No reason to oppose it."
"Great!"
I slapped my hand down on the table.
"Then from today it's added to our party rules. Once a month, each of us rests on the day we choose."
Back then I had no idea what kind of hell I had just unlocked—or that this single small welfare policy would be the reason our party plummeted to the absolute bottom of the rankings.
"I never should have made that choice."
I flicked a rock-hard piece of bread with my finger and sighed deeply again.
"The me of that day was too pure. Too idealistic a leader. I didn't even realize the world isn't that kind."
My wretched muttering scattered emptily into the air. Everyone else simply focused on their own work, treating it as business as usual. No one paid the slightest attention to my tragedy. Gerard reluctantly glanced my way, then turned his head as if the whole thing had been a waste of time.
"That kind of weak excuse is exactly why our party performance is dead last."
"Excuse?! How is that an excuse?!"
My sharper-than-expected reaction made Gerard's mouth open slightly before closing again.
"Putting Monthly Leave into the party was a good idea! I still don't regret that! Resting when you need to rest matters!"
I smacked the table with my palm.
"But why doesn't anyone ever take the same day off?! Why does everyone always pick different days so that every single mission has one hole in the roster?!"
Only then did they look guilty and quietly avert their eyes. Drake cleared his throat.
"Well, everyone has their own circumstances..."
"Sure, circumstances! But look at the last few missions! Remember the bandit subjugation on Gerard's leave day? Our main vanguard was gone, so I had to stand in front with a shield—do you have any idea how much I suffered?!"
"That... must have been hard."
Gerard muttered without being able to meet my eyes.
"You were quite the sight that day, Hero. Charged in with a shield and got smacked by the bandit chief's mace so hard you flew like a deflated balloon."
Drake's half-joking jab sent the memory flashing through my head. After the mace sent me sailing, the bandit chief had tripped and rolled down the hill after me, knocking himself out cold. Looking back, my luck had been ridiculous.
"And what about the magical beast hunt on Drake's leave day?! No thief meant we got lost, stepped on every trap in the book, and I saw the same damn tree three times!"
"Pretty common in forests..."
"It's not common, you bastard! And on Noah's leave day there was no healer, so I chugged potions like I was blowing a trumpet!"
"I am truly sorry about that day."
"Then when we tried to settle the rewards, the potion costs were higher than what we earned!"
At those words, Reno—who handled the books—hung his head with the devastated look of a man who had lost his country.
"You have no idea how much my heart tore when I balanced the ledger that day."
"My body actually felt like it was tearing, Reno! On Ainz's leave day we had no long-range options, so I threw rocks at a flying magical beast and nearly got stepped on to death! And on your leave day, with no one handling supplies, Gerard and I had to carry every heavy tent and pot ourselves—by the time we reached the mission site we had no stamina left to fight!"
I made a show of wiping away rising tears and covered my face with both hands.
"Looking back, it's a miracle any of us are still alive. Seriously."
A brief silence filled the dining room. Even Gerard closed his mouth. No matter how blunt he was, the knowledge that the leave condition he himself had demanded had started this entire mess pricked his conscience. Reno stopped his pen and asked quietly.
"Then do you intend to abolish the Monthly Leave system even now? Or at least restrict its use to designated dates?"
Every gaze locked onto my lips. I looked around at my party members, then slowly shook my head.
"No. Neither."
Drake tilted his head in confusion.
"Hero, didn't you just passionately explain that every disaster you listed came from that leave system? And you're just going to leave it alone?"
I absently stirred the cold stew with a spoon.
"Yeah. Because it's the promise we all made together the day our party first became complete. One day a month, no questions asked. If I have to break that, I'd rather hire mercenaries to fill the missing spots."
Reno immediately pointed out the practical problem and shook his head.
"But with our current finances, hiring mercenaries out of operating funds would be difficult."
"I know. Just saying. The real issue is the empty spots left by people on leave, right?"
I flashed a grin.
"Don't worry. I've got an absolutely brilliant plan."
One week later, morning.
The training ground floor was bitterly cold, and my back felt every degree of it—because I was sprawled flat on the dirt. I spat out a mouthful of grit.
"Ptoo! Ptoo ptoo! Damn it, my mouth's a sandpit!"
Gerard looked down at me, wooden sword resting lightly on his shoulder.
"Stop whining."
"Didn't you see my soul leave my body just now and barely crawl back in?"
"It came back, so get up."
"You demon of a man."
I forced my trembling arms to push my upper body upright. My legs, however, no longer felt like they belonged to me, and my breath burned all the way up to my throat.
"So this is the plan you meant? Getting thrown around while learning swordsmanship from me?"
Still sitting on the ground and gasping, I grinned through pure spite.
"Yeah. If I become a jack-of-all-trades who can fill every missing role, the problem solves itself. On your leave days I'll stand in front as temporary tank."
"Imitating the role doesn't make you a vanguard."
"On Drake's leave days I'll take the scout job."
"That's looking down on our entire thief profession a bit much, Hero."
Drake, now perched on a tree branch at some point, cut in with a protest.
"That's why I'm going to learn it starting now!"
I wanted to hurl dirt at that annoying mouth right then, but I didn't have the strength to lift a single finger, so I settled for a murderous glare.
"And on Ainz's leave days I'll learn magic so I can cover the missing long-range support."
Even while panting hard, my eyes shone. Memories of the past few days flashed through my mind—basic magic lectures from Ainz, tracking, infiltration, and trap-disarming lessons from Drake, all while getting beaten into the dirt like a dog.
"Keep this up and there won't be any body left."
"It's already wrecked. Nothing left."
"So you're quitting here?"
"No."
I planted a knee and forced myself up with stubborn grit.
"Of course I have to do it."
The words came out boldly, but my legs betrayed me first. Trembling knees buckled, and I collapsed back onto the dirt. From the tree, Drake clapped loudly.
"I'll give the Hero credit for mental strength! Shame the physical can't keep up with the mental, though!"
"Most people in the world simply call that a lack of talent."
Gerard's cold addition made me seethe.
"You too?!"
Then Gerard asked as if genuinely curious.
"So what are you learning from Reno and Noah? Ledger work and Holy Knight miracles?"
"I'm learning business from Reno—how to buy cheap and not get ripped off. And from Noah I'm learning how to use and apply Authorities."
"How to use Authorities? Not miracles?"
When Gerard frowned, I nodded and explained carefully.
"Yeah. Miracles are hard to teach because of doctrine issues. Instead Noah's teaching me how past heroes from his church used their Authorities, practice methods, and real combat tips."
"Not a bad approach."
"Right?"
Gerard stroked his chin for a moment, then calmly pointed his gaze at my still-shaking legs.
"By the way, Zick."
"Yeah?"
"Looks like your stamina has recovered. Next drill."
"No it hasn't? My arms and legs are still trembling."
Caught dead to rights, I hurriedly looked away and tried to act like I still needed more rest. Gerard saw straight through the thin act.
"Get up."
"Can I really have just three more minutes?"
"No."
"You bloodless, tearless instructor bastard!"
"Run."
Gerard pointed his wooden sword toward the edge of the training ground.
"To that tree and back. Three times."
"How is this even sword training?!"
"The foundation of a vanguard is absolute stamina. If you have energy left to talk nonsense, run."
"A demon! There's an actual demon right here!"
"Want me to make it five?"
"I'm running! Running!"
I launched myself forward on pure survival instinct. Drake's roaring laughter as he rolled around holding his stomach on the tree branch echoed across the grounds, but Gerard's eyes stayed fixed on Zick's gradually receding back.
Objectively speaking, Zick's talent fell far short of other heroes. His sense for swordsmanship, magic, and thievery was ordinary at best. Yet that fool kept running. No one had forced this path on him. Even so, Zick never hesitated.
In truth, he could have simply abolished the leave system or forced everyone onto fixed dates. That would have been the quickest, easiest solution for a leader. Or he could have just whined and blamed the party members who caused the problem. But Zick refused the easy road. He declared he would plug every hole left by his comrades' leave with his own body, and he was whipping himself to do it. To protect his comrades' circumstances, he chose to suffer several times harder himself.
Gerard looked down at the wooden sword in his hand. He had been the one who stubbornly demanded regular leave in the first place. He knew full well that single condition had eventually driven the party's performance into the dirt. Yet Zick, knowing all of that, still refused to break the promise. Instead he had smiled and called it the rule from the day their party first became complete.
"Foolish bastard."
Gerard muttered quietly, but his voice was far softer than usual.
Nowhere in the world would there be another hero who cherished his comrades this much. So the only thing he could do to help this foolish, grateful leader was one simple thing: pour the apology blooming in his heart into training that was more precise, more sincere, and harsher than anyone else's.
"Aaaaargh! My legs! My legs are trying to declare independence from my body!"
Zick's desperate scream echoed long across the training ground from far away.
Even after that, our party's performance continued to hover at the very bottom for a good while. In exchange, Zick's skills grew little by little every time he got covered in dirt.