The Man Who Strove to Become a Hero

Albert, nine stalker demons with black cloth covering their faces, and an expressionless

Bighawk stood before me.

What's Bighawk doing here?He shouldn't have been able to catch up to me that quickly.

"Martial Art: Swallow's Approach!"

Leaving me no time to ponder my surprise, Albert immediately loosed an attack. We'd

been fifteen paces apart, but he'd closed that distance in the blink of an eye and

brought his weapon down toward me. Swallow's Approach was a Martial Art intended

to allow you to move at high speed to strike the opponent. The path the sword would

take was easy to read, however, because Martial Arts always moved in fixed patterns.

Albert's attack was faster, but I just dodged it with a single step back and to the left.

No sooner had I evaded than the heavy blade suddenly switched directions, almost as

if it had bounced on something.

It shouldn't have been possible for Albert's body to move so soon after unleashing a

Martial Art. The motion had impossible timing. Albert's sword closed in on me,

seemingly drawn toward my neck. There was a metallic screech.

"What?!"

Shock crept in at the corners of Albert's arrogant expression. His sword's arc had been

diverted. The edge of the weapon had sailed just over my head, trimming a couple of

strands of hair as it passed.

"You parried my cursed sword with a cheap toy like that?!"

I had drawn my bronze sword and parried the slash aimed at my neck in a single

motion.

So this is the power of a cursed sword… It was said that there was a kind of demon on

the dark continent that possessed a skill allowing them to create blades that housed a

kind of hunger for death. If I'd tried to catch it head-on without deflecting it, that slash

likely would've cut right through my sword. Albert was wielding a demon weapon, and

the difference between such an item and my mass-produced bronze sword couldn't

have been clearer.

"To be able to evade that attack… and with such a terrible sword. You failing to dodge

my attack in the shop back then was just an act, I take it? Did you use some Martial Art

I don't know about it?"

Back when he attacked me in the shop? I thought. It hadn't been a special skill granted

by a blessing, just simple swordsmanship. Evidently, Albert had gotten it into his head

that I had used a secret ability, however.

Albert and I both slowly backed off a bit and established some distance.

"My eyes weren't playing tricks on me. You really are a person destined to become a

hero. Just like me," Albert sneered.

"Why is Bighawk here?" I asked, more concerned about the half-orc's surprising

presence than anything else.

"That's…" Sensing that he was being ignored, Albert's expression twisted slightly.

"Because this Bighawk is merely a shell," Bighawk interjected as Albert tried to explain.

The voice was soothing to the ears, like the chime of a bell. It was very clearly not

Bighawk's voice.

"…So that's it. That solves the last lingering question. This is the answer to the origin

of the drug and how Bighawk's people somehow sacrificed fifty mid-tier demons. I'd

been having trouble deducing that part. You're some contract demon that's been

working behind the scenes," I declared.

Bighawk's face contorted hideously.

"I am one who grants wishes. This creature's wish was to become the king of Zoltan.

Thus, I lent my strength. This man was incapable and ignorant, so I took control of his

body. In his stead, I did everything within the realm of his capability and personality

in order to guide him to become king. His consciousness remains. He sees and feels

the same things that I see and feel. I'm sure he has enjoyed the gourmet cuisine and

exquisite women as well. There is the minor downside of being unable to move even

a single finger of his own volition, but I believe he has been satisfied with the outcome

thus far."

A contract demon. There were many famous stories about people who made deals

with such beings in order to fulfill their wishes. Such tales usually ended tragically for

the person fool enough to agree to the arrangement. Usually, their soul was consumed

to increase the contract demon's blessing, or it was somehow worked into the foul

thing's weapon.

Simply put, the one who came out on top of such agreements was always the demon.

By creating a pact, contract demons became able to use extraordinary magic they

normally didn't have access to. So great was that power that it could even alter reality

somewhat.

Upper-tier demons had a skill that elicited obedience from lower-tier demons.

According to demonologists, lower-tier demons also had a skill that fostered loyalty

to their superiors. This was more than just the occasional impulse of a blessing.

By using that power, the contract demon had summoned ax demons and sacrificed

them. Doubtlessly, the knowledge of the drug itself had come from the demon as well.

"An upper-tier demon…," I muttered.

Even if it isn't one specialized in hand-to-hand combat, I don't think I can face it headon and win.

If Ruti, or Danan, or Yarandrala, or any of my other old comrades were here, such an

opponent wouldn't be a problem. If I'd had Thunderwaker and the rest of my gear

from the old days, I'd probably be all right, too.

Unfortunately, I was alone without a single piece of magic equipment. All I had was a

single bronze sword. It really wasn't any sort of condition to be engaging with a

powerful opponent.

"Looks like you and I both are unable to fight properly," I called.

"…" The possessed Bighawk's expression didn't change, but I was sure my words had

hit the mark.

"If you were serious, you should've been able to take control of Zoltan much quicker

than this. Not to mention easier. So why haven't you?" I pressed.

"…Why do you suppose?" the demon replied with its own question.

"You know, I've studied a little about your kind. I've read a few papers regarding

contract demons. Your pact contains enormous power, but at the same time, you can't

control all of it. Isn't that right?"

"What of it?"

"The contract was to make Bighawk the king of Zoltan. So you took control of his body

and committed all those atrocities in order to raise the man's standing. All the while,

however, you were stuck as the number two of the Thieves Guild. I'm sure that was

mortifying."

The demon's expression twisted ever so slightly.

"It's not for nothing that Zoltan is regarded as a lazy town. The mayor, all the guild

chiefs, even the criminal underworld of the Thieves Guild—everything here is

determined by seniority," I continued.

Promotion to the top of anything in this town was based on eldership. After reaching

a certain level within the bureaucracies, accomplishments and blessings and even

quality of character held no sway when it came to getting ahead. Older people had

more power, and younger people just needed to wait patiently until the current ruling

generation died off. There was no room for ambition; Zoltan was too lazy for such

things.

"Power struggles are a pain in the ass. Even if you don't try very hard, you'll get your

turn in the end. Everyone around here is fine with that. Bighawk was called the

number two of the Thieves Guild, but it wasn't like he was officially the second-incommand. It was just an observation of his relative power within the group. No matter

how skilled and outstanding you were, it was still going to be another twenty years of

waiting until you became the head of the guild."

"…Good grief, this is such an irredeemable town." The demon placed a hand over its

eyes and shook its head as if lamenting the state of things.

"I've granted similar wishes before. It should've been quite a simple feat with my

knowledge, judgment, and the power of my blessing. I must confess, I've been bested.

No matter how great my accomplishments, no matter how much collateral I tried to

provide, the answer was always no. Every time, I was merely told that wasn't how

things were done here. The people of Zoltan are truly, irredeemably slothful."

"Bound by the contract, you couldn't cast Bighawk's body aside. Without fulfilling the

wish, you were stuck," I said.

Breaking the contract meant releasing Bighawk's soul. That would restore anything

the contract maker had given up, and the contract demon would lose several of its

levels.

In other words, it was a considerable loss that a demon was unlikely to accept.

"Faced with an impossible choice, you turned your attention to Albert, an outsider like

you," I reasoned.

It was common knowledge that Albert was close with the Thieves Guild. Several

accounts indicated that Bighawk was the mediator between Albert and the guild. Still

bound by the contract with Bighawk, the demon could not use any power unavailable

to the half-orc, but by signing another contract, it could produce a miracle while still

in Bighawk's body.

"It's not as if I can just make a deal with anyone. It requires a certain fundamental

strength of will in addition to some amount of darkness enshrouding their heart. In

that regard, Zoltan is perhaps the worst place imaginable. Everyone here has their

points of discontent, however minor they might be, but they've all just given up and

accepted that things can't be changed. It was quite the lucky break that someone like

Albert was hanging around," the demon openly admitted.

Albert had the blessing of the Champion, a hero from birth. Unfortunately, he'd failed

to live up to the standards of his blessing. He wasn't weak by any means, but he'd been

unable to achieve B-rank status on his own in Central. The best he'd ever done was

elevate himself via the achievements of his party. Even then, he was still just a member

of a B-rank party—not a B ranker himself.

The reasons for that were many. Albert could've lacked the necessary advice on what

sort of skills were good for him to take. It was also possible that he just wasn't all that

talented. There was even the chance it was all because Albert wasn't particularly good

at working with others.

Regardless of the reason, the end result was that Albert was unsatisfied with his lot in

life. Understandably so, of course, since he was supposed to be a Champion.

"In Zoltan, Albert could get by as a B-rank adventurer. When he first arrived, the only

B rankers were former mayor Master Mistorm, Galatine the famed Adventurers Guild

member, Bishop Shien of the holy church, and Guard Captain Moen. When the

situation demanded it, those four would form a party to handle things only a B-rank

party could. It was a truly staggering shortage of skilled labor. As such, even if Albert

was a little lacking, so long as the people of Zoltan could squint their eyes and call him

a B ranker, it was good enough."

Albert's face warped slightly as the demon spoke. Even if everything it said was true,

hearing it was doubtlessly unpleasant.

I'd come to Zoltan after Albert, but I'd heard things were particularly rough before

he'd arrived. The four B rankers at the time had unsurprisingly been very busy. While

Moen was young in those days, it wouldn't have been out of the question for the other

three members of that party to have retired. What's worse, their regular jobs denied

them a fair amount of combat experience. Supposedly, they'd had some close calls with

foes that should've otherwise been beneath them.

Albert's rank was never revised, even after he left his party in Central. So when he

came to Zoltan, he was immediately welcomed as a B-rank adventurer. There was little

other option than to turn to him anyhow. Such was how Albert became a frontier hero.

"I came to utterly despise Zoltan," Albert spat. "Its adventurers are nothing but trash

who procrastinate on their quests. It's filled with incompetents who start grumbling

the moment you take your eyes off them. How was I supposed to accept people like

that as my allies? Reconciling that they were B-rank adventurers was an insult. Who

could accept that?! What does living among such people make me?! This is a town

where defeating a mere owlbear is cause for celebration! Pretending to be a hero out

here means nothing! If I die in Zoltan, my life will have been a waste!"

The darkness in Albert had slowly grown every time the locals hailed him as a hero.

Each time he observed the easygoing happiness of his comrades, the anger festered

and grew.

The contract demon had taken advantage of that.

"But don't you worry, D rank. I'm going to become a hero. I may have signed a deal

with a demon, but I refuse to raise my sword in the name of evil."

"How can you say that after everything that's happened? People have already died," I

shot back.

"Necessary sacrifices. My desire is for Zoltan to become united and join in the battle

against the demon lord's army. I want it to become a town with the strength and

determination to be able to do that. Revolution must necessarily be nourished with

the blood of sacrifices," Albert explained.

"Wait, the demon lord's army?" I asked, confused.

"Hear the whole story out, Red; I'm sure you'll come to understand that what we do is

by no means evil," the demon controlling Bighawk said, cutting in. "The forces that are

attacking this continent of Avalon—what we call the Radiant Continent—are being led

by a different faction that differs from any previous demon lord. Many of our kind have

been subjugated by the current demon lord, and so they obey. There are those of us

who have yet to fall in line, however. We work with a group of dwarves who have

retained their influence in our homeland. Together, we have organized a resistance to

combat the demon lord's army… though our current situation is unfavorable."

"What does that have to do with you being here?" I inquired.

"The reason I am here is, of course, to fulfill this half-orc's wish. At the same time,

however, it is also because I wanted Zoltan to join the fight against the demon lord's

forces."

Hearing that from a demon was no small surprise.

"Albert's wish is to fight alongside the Hero and defeat the demon lord. In his contract,

he didn't pledge his soul but instead promised to devote all his life to vanquishing the

demon lord. What do you think? Surely you are able to recognize that is by no means

a malicious agreement."

"Is that true, Albert?" I asked.

"It is." Albert met my gaze straight on. Ambition was burning in his eyes. "The demon

granted me power in the form of my Vorpal Blade, a cursed sword capable of killing

any monster! What's more, the Devil's Blessing holds the power to grant even

worthless blessings the strength to fight. With these two tools at my command, I will

seize control of the council and become the governor-general. Once Zoltan is fully

mobilized, I will lead our forces to join the Hero's battle!" Albert roared. No doubt, he

envisioned a scene of the demon lord's forces amassing while he stood shoulder to

shoulder with Ruti and Danan. Behind him, soldiers would wave their spears as they

cheered in reply to his rousing call.

"I am Albert the Champion, not some adventurer who can only get by in this backwater

town! I will become a man worthy of my blessing! A hero worthy of fighting the demon

lord! My true self!"

I, a man who had left the Hero's party, and Albert, a man whose sights were set on the

very thing I'd cast away, stood opposite each other. We'd both been sidelined from the

fight, but that was where our similarities ended.

Outside Bighawk's mansion, the residents of Southmarsh stood confused. Despite

guardsmen having protected Ademi, Al had spared the other boy. The two had then

been spirited away by some other unknown person.

Bighawk had frantically withdrawn into his estate. One of his henchmen had told the

crowd to wait, but it had been some time since that order. The longer the people went

without an update, the greater their unease. Eventually, arguments began to break out

amid the throngs. Things escalated to the point where brawls were likely to erupt at

any moment.

"O-oy! Not good!" cried a man near the entrance. Clattering armor and countless

footsteps could be heard rumbling toward Bighawk's mansion. A line of halberds

bobbed, gleaming in the setting sun.

"I-it's the guards! And they're armed to the teeth!"

All at once, Bighawk's manor was surrounded, encircled in steel. Guardsmen usually

donned light armor while on patrol, but today they wore steel breastplates, chain-mail

tunics, and heavy half plate. Longswords and crossbows hung at the waist of every

lawman. The guards of Zoltan only dressed in such attire during emergencies.

At some point, the sky had been died red by the setting sun.

"Do you understand what's happening here, D rank?" Albert asked, his sword still

pointed at me.

"Mostly," I replied, my bronze sword still drawn and at the ready. While we exchanged

words, we both were prepared to engage at a moment's notice.

"…Do you remember when I tried to get you to join my party before?"

"I mean, it wasn't that long ago."

"You really were feigning your own incompetence back then. I knew my eyes didn't

lie."

"And what if you're right?"

"Then I'll say it one more time; join me, Red. You are a man capable of becoming a

hero… just like I am."

Albert lowered his weapon and instead extended a hand to me. We were only about

fifteen paces apart. Albert could close that distance in a single move. Even with his

offer, there was still a smoldering tension that hung about the air.

"I don't know why you were hiding yourself, but people with power have a responsibility

to wield it. You, too, must surely have a blessing unfit to be wasted out here in the

frontier, just like mine."

"You give me too much credit."

"Quit playing dumb! That strength of yours is the genuine article!" Albert shouted. "So

what will you do, D rank? Will you join the fight and become a legend, or will you

defeat me and become lionized as the man who saved Zoltan?! Which will it be?!"

"So, I'll become a hero, then?"

"Yes, a hero! Zoltan's fate, maybe even that of the entire world, rests on your decision!

Can you feel the surge of adrenaline?! Right now, at this very moment, the future is

being shaped in this backwater town!"

At some point during his shouting, a manic grin had appeared on Albert's face. He had

finally become the kind of person he wanted to be, even if all he was clinging to was

self-importance without any real foundation in reality.

"It's about time," I muttered.

"What'd you say?!"

"Sorry, Albert."

The sound of countless approaching footfalls caught Albert's ear, and the man's face

stiffened.

"Y-you… How could you…? This was supposed to be settled by us, the heroes, dueling

it out…"

"I don't want to become a hero."

That day was not to be the stage upon which this incident was resolved. Neither Albert

nor I would be made a hero.

The residents of Southmarsh made it clear they intended to resist to the last. Even

though they knew it was hopeless, Bighawk had emboldened them enough that they

were willing to turn on the approaching guardsmen. They were determined to make

sure Zoltan felt their wrath, even if it was a losing battle.

In truth, the ones pushing for an attack were plants that Bighawk had spread

throughout the crowd beforehand. Most people were only going along with what

others were saying and exchanged nervous looks as weapons brought from Bighawk's

mansion were passed around.

From afar, Captain Moen watched as the scene unfolded. "They've got numbers on

their side, but even if they've got armaments, they have no armor," he murmured.

At best, around half of the people at the forefront of the crowd sported some kind of

protection.

"I mean, yeah. They aren't soldiers, and this isn't a battlefield," a nearby guard observed.

"…True enough," Moen responded in an exhausted tone.

The only reason Zoltan's lawmen had deployed in full regalia was the hope that such

a sight would break the mob's spirit. Their presence did have a measurable impact,

but it still wasn't enough to get them to lay down their weapons. One last push of some

kind was needed.

"Captain!" called a man who looked to be out of breath as he hurried over.

"What is it?"

"It's Ademi!"

"What?! You found him?!"

Standing behind the guard who had just arrived was a dark-skinned young man with

two young boys. Despite knowing most everyone in Zoltan, Moen had never met Bui,

but it hardly seemed the time to worry about such a thing. The captain quickly

discarded his sense that something was off about the man.

"Ademi!"

"Dad!"

Parent and child enjoyed a happy embrace.

"I'm sorry, Dad… I…"

"As long as you're okay, it's fine, Ademi. Whatever apologies you need to make, I'll

stand with you and apologize, too. And if there's anyone you need to make amends

with, I'll be there with you for that as well. But you don't have to say anything to me—

you're my son."

"Dad…!"

"I'm sorry to interrupt during your touching reunion, but…" Bui trailed off for a

moment before continuing. He did look truly apologetic for his interjection. "I believe

it's best we settle this all sooner rather than later."

Moen and Ademi both blushed a tiny bit as they nodded.

Guards and Southmarsh residents stood with their eyes locked on each other. Each

side was ready to charge at the drop of a hat. The difference in equipment and training

was clear as night and day, but the citizens had a highly defensible position in

Bighawk's fenced-off mansion. It was practically a fortress. Many believed it at least

afforded them a chance.

"Tch, now ain't this a pretty pickle," a Southmarsh man holding a spear muttered to

himself.

Those entrenched deeper in Bighawk's property couldn't see the armored guards, but

those closer to the property's edges readily understood just how outmatched they

were. Many were considering running, but the estate was surrounded on all sides.

Surrender likely wasn't an option, either, as it'd only elicit attacks from someone

behind.

"Nothin' we can do now. Guess we were fools fer believin' Mr. Bighawk."

"No kidding."

Caught between their enemy and their allies, those at the front of the mob silently

prayed for even the slightest chance of escape. They wished with all their might for

something that would allow them to cast down the weapons they'd been handed

before things finally snapped and turned into a mistake that couldn't be undone.

"Everyone!"

A child's shout resounded through the crowd. The circle of guardsmen split, and two

boys walked down the path formed from the opening. They both looked nervous, but

there was a determination in their eyes that was clear for all to see.

"Isn't that Al?! And beside him is that son of a bitch Ademi!"

A restless murmur spread through the Southmarsh ranks.

"Fly." Bui used a spell, granting the boys invisible magic wings that carried them into

the air. The two of them rose into the sky, stopping at a height where everyone was

likely to see them best.

"Everyone, please!" Al shouted again.

"Al! What happened?! Did the guards catch you?!" someone called from down below.

"You have it wrong! I'm here by my own choice. And Ademi is, too," Al corrected.

"He's right," Ademi confirmed.

Waves of excited confusion passed through the crowd.

Al had been considering what was best to say to the assembled people from

Southmarsh. His and Ademi's role was to stop the battle before it could begin. Bui had

said that they were the ones best suited for such a job.

Should I tell the whole story? Should I make Ademi apologize? Should I scream that they

were all being deceived by Bighawk? Al wondered as he hovered in place.

Bui had given Al a script scrawled on a piece of paper that now rested in the boy's

pocket. Floundering for what to do, Al reached after the little note Bui had given him.

No.

He then crumpled it and shifted his hand to the hilt of his shotel. After closing his eyes

for a moment, Al finally addressed the crowd.

"Let's go home, everyone. Nothing has happened yet, and no one's been hurt. So let's

just go home."

"What?!" came someone's exclamation.

"Ademi and I are friends, and come tomorrow, we'll play together again. So let's all just

go home."

"Don't be stupid! The boy you call your friend tried to kill your parents!"

"No, that wasn't Ademi. It was a demon in his form. And if you all keep taking that drug,

you'll end up becoming demons who'll hurt your own friends as well. We need to walk

away from this before it's too late."

Al grabbed Ademi's hand. In response to the gesture, Moen immediately raised his

right hand, sending a signal to the guards. The captain's men moved aside and created

a means of egress from Bighawk's mansion. One illuminated by the setting sun.

"…Al, are you saying you've forgiven him?" a man at the front of the mob asked.

"I am."

Immediately, there was a clanging sound as the man threw down his spear. Nervously,

he began to leave.

"O-oy," someone called from behind, trying to stop the first one from abandoning the

fight.

"This fight was to get vengeance for Al. I don't have a death wish. If Al's forgiven Ademi,

then I don't have any more reason to fight."

Clang. Clang. Cla-cla-cla-clang…

One after another, weapons clattered to the ground as the people of Southmarsh began

to make their way home. The battle was over. Many had never really wanted a fight in

the first place. Much was owed to the work Red, Rit, and Moen had done setting the

correct scene as well. More than anything, however, Al and Ademi had been the ones

who'd stopped the war before it had begun.

The two boys watched the many relieved residents of Southmarsh leave the premises

flanked on either side by equally alleviated guards.

"Why?! Whyyyyyy?!" Albert cried, indignant. His bloodshot eyes bulged from their

sockets, and his hair was disheveled. Albert and the others who had come with him

stood surrounded by Zoltan guards.

Even though nine among Albert's group were mid-tier demons, they were stalker

demons—assassins. Such creatures only had the upper hand when they possessed the

advantage of stealth or another means of controlling the situation. They weren't well

suited for a head-on battle against an enemy that outnumbered them.

"It seems you've really underestimated our town," called a tall man who stood with

the guards. Staring Albert down was the former strongest adventurer in Zoltan and

one of the leaders of the Adventurers Guild, Galatine.

"This is…" The contract demon possessing Bighawk could not disguise its

disappointment. Listlessly, the thing turned to look at Red. "Is this really the best way?

Some of these men could die trying to take us in, you know. If you fought, this might

end without anyone getting hurt."

"I'm just a D-rank adventurer—and an apothecary at that… It's not my place to arrest

you. That responsibility belongs to those that uphold the law. They're the ones trained

for it," I replied.

"Whyyyyy?!" The force of Albert's shout caused the surrounding guards to take a half

step back reflexively.

"Albert."

"You could've become a hero! Zoltan would have been forever in your debt! So why?!

You have the strength to accomplish so much; how can you cast it aside?!"

"…Because I'm happy as I am. If I can stay here with Rit and keep running my little

apothecary, that's enough for me."

"I can't accept it! Let me at least fall at the hands of a hero as a villain! Grant me that

much at least! Give my life some amount of meaning! I'm Albert! The Champion! Not

like this, arrested by the guards like some pathetic, run-of-the-mill criminal!"

"Stop it, Albert!" Surprisingly, it was the contract demon who called out to the incensed

man.

Albert paid no heed, however, raising his sword and charging right for me. His deadly

cursed weapon was aimed directly at my neck.

There was a flash of bronze.

Clang!

A metallic impact echoed, and a sword hilt fell to the ground.

With a blank look, Albert stared at the stump where his right hand had been just a

second prior.

"So that's how it is?" asked Albert.

"…"

"You really could've defeated me at any point then…"

Crimson tears welled up in Albert's eyes.

"If you had wanted to, you could have dealt with my plotting at any point? That's just

too… too much…"

Falling to his knees, Albert covered his face with his remaining hand.

"A hero isn't something you become by being strong," I said.

"Going to lecture me now?" Albert spat acidly.

"That's not it at all. I'm trying to say I was never right for the position… Albert, I wanted

you to be the one to save Zoltan in its moment of need. You, the man who was always

struggling, striving to become a hero more than anyone else. I wanted it to be you, not

me."

It wasn't a lie. While Albert was a flawed man with a poor temper and a fundamental

lack of strength, it had never kept him from working to overcome his inhibitions.

Dragging unreliable party members along behind him, he fought to become someone

worthy of the position he'd been handed.

"To me, no matter your flaws, you were Zoltan's hero," I declared.

I can't say for sure how Albert felt after hearing my words. I didn't have skills that

allowed me to sense emotions or read minds. What I know for certain is that after I'd

said my piece, Albert hung his head limply and made no further effort to resist arrest.

The five days after the incident passed by rather quickly.

"How about now? Is it ready yet?"

"Mm, just a little bit longer."

I dipped a hand into the bath to check the temperature. It was still a little tepid.

Rit and I were in our newly constructed bathroom that Gonz had built. We'd decided

to test it out immediately and were just in the process of heating the bath. The room

had a large tub that could fit about three people and a smaller basin-shaped one next

to it.

In a small adjoining room, there was a stove with a protruding pipe that carried heat

to the bathtub. The furnace was of a special design that allowed you to open the pipe

to turn the bathroom into a sauna.

There were various kinds of public bathhouses that dotted Avalon. Cleanliness staved

off disease, so many had cropped up over the years. If you asked me, however, I

thought the Zoltan stove-and-pipe-style ones were pretty handy.

In the capital, they would light a fire outside and use a setup that enabled them to have

heat radiate from beneath the floor. It was a system that allowed the water to get hot

much more quickly but had the downside of not being able to control the fire from

inside the bath itself.

Admittedly, Rit could've always heated our bathwater with her spirit magic, but that

method made precise adjustments difficult. Usually such an attempt resulted in

boiling water. Plus, having to use magic somewhat defeated the point of trying to relax

with a bath in the first place.

"All right, that should do it!" I announced.

"Hooray!"

Turning around, I saw that Rit had already gotten undressed, though she was still

covering herself with a bath towel.

"Huh? Wait…!"

"Hurry up and get undressed, Red!"

"We agreed to swimsuits!"

"Wuss!"

Grrr! If that's the way Rit wanted to play it, then I had no choice. Rit was clearly okay

being naked, so there wasn't any real reason for me to feel differently. I couldn't help

but feel somewhat embarrassed, though. It was tough to know exactly where I

should've been looking.

Rit and I faced each other as we slid into opposite sides of the bath wearing nothing

at all.

""Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!""

We both let fly a comforted sigh that filled the room.

"I'm so tired," Rit said.

"Me too. It's been a while since the last time I seriously fought. My muscles are still

sore," I replied.

"Heh."

Suddenly, my ribs were jabbed by Rit's toe.

"Geh." A dull, sore ache ran through my stomach. As revenge, I did the same to her. Rit

made a similar sort of pained sound. The recent commotion was the first time she'd

had to really push herself in a while as well. She was no doubt aching just as badly as

I was.

"I guess it really starts to be a problem if you don't get some proper exercise from time

to time," I said.

"I dunno. It's not like stuff like this is going to be happening all the time," Rit replied.

We both let out another long exhale. Floating a bit in the bath felt good, so I closed my

eyes and slid down into the water.

"It was a good idea to get a bath made," Rit mumbled.

We'd used the reward for our part in resolving the trouble in Zoltan to get a bathroom

added to our home. The addition had only cost 130 payril, a fairly low price. As an

expression of gratitude for all Rit and I had done, the carpenters in our neighborhood

banded together and finished what should have been an eight-day job building the

bathroom in only five. I made lunch for them all every day, something they enjoyed

immensely. Several times I was told not to hesitate if Rit or I ever wanted another room

built.

When all was said and done, we still had a bit of reward money left. I'd been

considering putting it to use building a greenhouse out in the yard or perhaps a

brewing room so I could try making some medicinal alcohol.

Something soft brushed against my chest.

"Mm?"

Opening my eyes, I saw Rit right in front of me with a mischievous grin on her face.

Evidently, I had felt Rit's breasts. She'd used Stealth to get close to me without

disturbing the water.

Normally, I would've brushed it off as her usual sort of screwing around, but it took

everything I had to keep my cool.

"Eh-heh." Rit was smiling, but her face was beet red. So much so that it was clearly

more than just the heat of the water. She always flirted in the most extreme ways, even

though she got embarrassed from it herself.

"Oh?" I grabbed on to Rit's shoulder and spun her around so that her back slotted up

against my chest and then hugged her tight.

"Mmmmmm." Rit was doing her best to sound calm, but it was obvious that her body

had tensed up. It relaxed just as quickly, however, and she nestled close. Her body was

warm.

"Hey, Red."

"What?"

"Is this really okay? If you had gone with Albert, you might have been able to rejoin

the Hero's party. Even Ares may have reconsidered things by now."

"I'm not sure how things would've gone down with Albert had I been the same as when

I first arrived in Zoltan. As I am now, though, there was never a chance of me taking

his offer."

"Ruti and the others might be struggling without you, you know. They might even want

you to come back."

There was an unease in Rit's voice. I was going to have to make this as clear as possible

so there were no more misunderstandings.

I squeezed Rit tight and pressed my nose into her blond hair. It smelled good.

"Even if they did, I'm not going to go back. There are other people with the strength to

help the Hero. Had things played out differently, Albert could've been one of them. I'm

sure there are plenty more potential heroes wandering the land, but there's only one

Rit, and you're here with me."

Almost immediately I was dissatisfied with how vague that statement sounded.

"Hmm, that's not quite what I mean. I guess I just have to be up front."

"?"

"I love you, Rit. Really, really love you. Whatever amount you might think I love you, I

guarantee the actual feeling is at least a hundred times more than that."

"Wh—hu-huh…?!"

"That's why I'm going to stay here. No matter what anyone else might say. What I want

more than being a hero is to be by your side."

Rit didn't have her bandanna to hide behind, so she slid down into the water until it

covered the bottom half her face to hide how happy she was.

Lately, it had felt like Rit was always nervous about something whenever she was with

me. After I confessed so openly, however, that unease seemed to vanish in an instant.

Immediately, our slow, peaceful, everyday lives returned.

Zoltan's prison sat on the outskirts of the northern side of the town's central district.

It was also directly next to the residence of the governor-general, Lord William. The

stable and barracks were also nearby, where the forty drake knights he commanded

were stationed. There were cells at the guard's station, but those were primarily used

to hold suspects and question them. It was customary for those deemed guilty, even if

their case had not yet gone to trial, to be held at the prison.

That was where Albert, Bighawk, and their coconspirators were confined.

Convicted felons were sentenced to repaying the community by working to develop

the surrounding land under the watchful eye of Lord William. The truth of the matter

was that the governor-general merely passed off that sort of work to his subordinates,

so he wasn't really involved. The hope was that such work would break the felons of

their ways enough that they could be admitted into the militia.

While that was the purported goal, the majority of criminals couldn't cover the cost of

their own food and shelter and were therefore sold off into debt-slavery. Only those

with large fortunes to their names or those judged too useful to be sold off evaded this

fate.

"Hey, Bighawk," called a prison guard with a club at his waist.

The half-orc was sitting cross-legged in a cell. He turned his fearsome eyes to the jailer.

"Interrogation time."

"I thought there wasn't anything planned today?"

"The plan changed."

"Any particular reason?"

"Not for the likes of you. Now get your ass out here."

The guard took the club in his hand. While Bighawk did as commanded, he clearly

found the whole exercise rather tiresome. His hands had been cuffed, and his fingers

had been bound to keep him from using any magic or other techniques. Shuffling to

the interrogation room, he sat back down in a chair. A thick steel door locked itself as

it was shut behind him.

Activating spells or skills required specific, precise movements. Finger bindings

disallowed that. There were those abilities that could be used even without hands—

or to escape from bindings. A prison in Zoltan did not have such magical implements,

however. A few thousand payril for a single set of handcuffs, regardless of how special

they were, was simply too great.

"How much longer?" Bighawk asked.

"Keep your mouth shut until you're told to speak," the guard shot back.

"This must be a waste of time for you, too, right? Can you not just haul me out here

after whoever it is actually arrives?"

The guard sighed. He'd been told that this half-orc had committed some particularly

heinous crimes. Doubtless, the man assumed that Bighawk had been summoned to an

interrogation room merely to be read his guilty conviction and sentenced to death.

Defying the expectations of many, the Thieves Guild had stayed surprisingly quiet in

the matter of the half-orc. The guard had to wonder if perhaps they were glad to be

rid of such a treacherous presence in their organization.

Bighawk had worked aggressively to make a name for himself and rise through the

ranks. Such actions were utterly removed from the standard way the people of Zoltan

lived. It was practically heretical. Even his supposed comrades in the Thieves Guild

were unsympathetic.

How long is this guy going to stay cool? Is he going to lose it when he finally realizes

there's no help coming for him? Am I going to have to restrain this tub of lard?

While the jailer was looking forward to the moment when Bighawk finally lost his

composure, he was also depressed at the thought of just how much work it was going

to be for him to deal with the cleanup.

Bang. Bang. There was a knock on the steel door.

"All clear on this side," the guard responded.

Knocking was a precaution they had in place to avoid a door ever being opened while

the prisoner was uncuffed.

A hand turned a key, earning a clicking sound from the lock, and the door opened with

a groan. Two men stepped in. One was another prison guard; the other…

"Would it be possible for you both to wait outside? I'd like to have a private

conversation."

"I'm afraid we can't—"

"I've received authorization."

"…Okay. When you're done, give a shout so we can let you out."

With that, the two guards left the room and locked the door, leaving Bighawk alone

with the dark-skinned young man. Bui grinned at the half-orc.

"Hey, Belial."

Bighawk's expression, which had remained thoroughly composed thus far, suddenly

twisted in shock. Belial was the true name of the contract demon. The names ascribed

by non-demons were by and large based off the characteristics each kind of demon

exuded. True names were only used in secret among demons and were never to be

revealed to other species, even if it meant that a demon would lose its life.

"Don't look so surprised. I've actually eaten a contract demon once before, long ago.

We know the true names of almost all of our kind."

"Wh-why are you here?!" the possessed Bighawk demanded.

"Red sending me off ahead was quite the boon. It would've been a problem if my true

form had been revealed back there."

"Asur—!"

Bui—Shisandan—grabbed the contract demon's neck to silence it before it could

scream.

"Do none of you pay any heed to the consequences of your actions? To think you would

make use of Devil's Blessing. What were you going to do if they realized that drug

doesn't actually require a demon's heart to make? You know it has the potential to

awaken the true power lying dormant within people. I thought God had forbidden its

use."

"The Lord will forgive our sins if it means eliminating you heretics…"

"One of God's envoys tasked with keeping the sins of the people in check is now the

very thing committing sins? How fascinating."

Sweat began to form on Bighawk's body. This is bad. He knows how to kill me while I'm

inside here…!

The contract demon could no longer afford to worry about losing levels as a consequence

of breaking its agreement.

"I, Belial, do hereby declare my contract with Bighawk null and void!" The demon

wheezed as Shisandan's hand closed around the half-orc's throat.

A written accord appeared, floating in the air. The document ripped itself in half with

a loud tearing sound.

A torrent of magic power began to whirl around Belial, forcing Shisandan to step back

for fear of getting caught in the vortex.

"Kiiiiiiii!"

Amid the swirl, the contract demon's true form appeared. It looked to be a human

creature with goat legs and horns growing from its head. It unleashed a burst of flame

to slow Shisandan down and headed straight for the door.

"What's happening?!"

Having heard the commotion through the wall, one of the guards called out from the

neighboring room. Such an action proved to be the poor man's undoing, however.

Belial rammed its body into the door with all of its superhuman strength. The steel

door warped and flew from its hinges, unable to contain the demon. The guard had

been standing right behind the door and went flying down the hall with it. The impact

snapped his neck, killing him instantly. The only silver lining was that it all happened

rather quickly, so the unfortunate man never had the time to feel any terror or pain.

With a roar, Belial broke into a sprint. While the prison guards had been trained for a

jailbreak, they panicked at the sight of such a powerful demon and stood frozen in fear.

Curiously, the rampaging creature did not make to leave the complex but instead

hurried for a cell.

"Albert!"

A bandage around his right arm, the man looked up at the demon with a lifeless gaze

from behind a mess of hair.

"Albert! Make a new wish! Ask to escape here and go to the Hero's side!" Belial insisted.

"…I don't care anymore."

"You don't have the luxury of choice! You swore to devote your life to defeating the

demon lord! The agreement won't allow you to just rot away down here! Now wish

anew!"

That was why the contract demon had been able to remain so calm. While Albert

hadn't offered up his soul in the first accord, if ever he reached a point where he was

out of options when trying to defeat the demon lord, he would have no choice but to

make another deal with his soul on the line.

"…Fine, do as you please then."

Albert could feel the force of the contract compelling him, and he readily agreed

without making so much as an effort to resist.

"Good! I, Belial, do hereby join a contract with Albert here!"

Typically, demonic arrangements were formed only after ensuring there were no

dubious clauses or loopholes, but there was no time for that now. Belial only cared

about escape. The resistance needed the data the demon had gathered from the Devil's

Blessing trials in Zoltan.

While incomplete, Belial's contract magic still worked. A document, pen, and knife

appeared from nowhere.

"Hurry it up!" the creature urged. Albert slowly took the pen and signed his name. He

then reached toward the knife.

"Does it still work if I use my left hand?"

"That's fine! Just do it already!"

Albert pressed his left thumb against the little blade, opening a small cut. As fresh

blood ran down his finger, he pushed it to the written accord.

"The contract has been signed and sealed! In exchange for thy wish, thy soul shall

become mine!"

I made it! The demon breathed a sigh of relief. But how?

The Asura demon had been provided with more than enough time to catch up. Belial

was suspicious of that, but a swirl of magic exploded from the newly formed contract

and filled the cell. When it subsided, both Albert and the demon were gone.

Peering in from the entrance, Bui smiled happily.

"Looks like it all worked out."

Shisandan had been concerned that the contract demon would expose the Asura

demon. Normally, no one would've believed such a thing. The claim would be discarded

as the desperate delusions of a condemned man. There was, however, at least one

person in Zoltan who might've taken such an accusation more seriously. That was

what Shisandan was most wary of.

"Bui! Are you okay?!"

"Yes. Unfortunately, it managed to escape."

Hearing a jailer approach, Bui turned and responded with a look of chagrin. No one

was going to blame him for letting an upper-tier demon escape, however. Such a

creature was not something that Zoltan, now lacking even a B-rank adventurer, was

remotely equipped to handle. If anything, Bui was likely to be praised for having

fended the fiend off.

As he considered a few things he wanted to look into, Bui explained about the contract

demon to the guards who had come running to check on him.

Having cleared the encampment of the demon lord's forces, Ruti was busy gathering

anything of value. All of a sudden, a disheveled-looking man with one hand appeared

from nowhere, accompanied by a contract demon in its true form.

Before the Hero could draw her sword, the creature activated a skill.

"Mind Plane Shift!"

Ruti realized that she was no longer in the demon encampment in the middle of a

forest but a blasted wasteland. The man who had been beside the demon had

disappeared. Ruti tilted her head just slightly.

"We meet for the first time, Ruti the Hero. I am what you know as a contract demon."

Ruti watched in silence as the demon introduced itself with the utmost courtesy. She

reached for the sword at her waist, but the Holy Demon Slayer had seemingly

transformed into a shabby bronze sword.

"You and I stand on a mental plane. Please forgive my impertinence, but I brought you

here because I would like to discuss something with you."

"I'll forgive it. Discuss what?" Ruti asked.

"You seem at ease. Perhaps you are looking for an opening to strike back, but I implore

you to allow me an explanation first. This is a mirror dimension created by our

consciousnesses. As such, any wounds incurred here will be similarly reflected on our

physical bodies. Please be careful."

"I see."

"The you in reality is undoubtedly quite powerful, but in this world, the vast majority

of skills and magic are limited. Thus, combat here requires a certain amount of

practice. For example…"

The contract demon took a moment to focus.

"You." "Can." "Do." "This."

Copies of the contract demon appeared one after the other. In a matter of moments,

the wasteland had become filled with duplicates of the contract demon.

"Well? Were you perhaps surprised?"

"I don't get surprised."

"Is that so? And it always got such lovely reviews from everyone else. Anyway, I believe

I've made it clear that fighting me in this realm would be a poor decision. You and I

share a common foe in the demon lord, so I have no interest in killing you, either. So

let us proceed with our discussion amicably."

The goat-hooved creature appeared rather at ease, likely because it knew it had the

upper hand. That didn't mean it could be careless, however. Belial hoped to make an

ally of the Hero, something that would more than make up for the creature's failures

in Zoltan.

"Fight?" Ruti tilted her head as she asked a single-word question while staring down

at her bronze sword.

"What?!" the contract demon exclaimed, stunned. With a glittering flash, the nearuseless weapon at Ruti's hip became the Holy Demon Slayer.

Th-that's not possible?! Reproducing an artifact-tier magic item in the mental realm?!

Even I can't do that…

"I see. I think I get how it works," Ruti murmured to herself.

She held the sword aloft, and a stream of silver rain began to pummel the earth.

"Uh— Ah… E-eeeeeeep!" For the first time in its many hundreds of years, the contract

demon was truly frozen in terror.

What fell from the sky was not silver-colored water but, rather, an uncountable

number of holy swords. The many blades sped from above, aiming themselves at the

copies of Belial that littered the surroundings.

"Th-that's impossible! This can't be happening! Manifesting so many artifacts?! I've

never heard of any demon lord or Hero being able to do something like that!"

In the blink of an eye, the scorched plains were soaked with fiend blood. After only a

brief moment, the lands had been transformed into a crimson bog that reeked of

death.

"Anyway, what did you want to talk about?" Ruti asked, her expression just as blank as

it ever was.

Belial clutched its head and screamed, sinking to the ground at the gruesome scene.

"I see." Ruti nodded emotionlessly after hearing what her unlikely visitor had to say.

"Y-yes! I am by no means at odds with the humans or any other residents of this

continent. We share a common enemy, the blasphemous demon lord who has chosen

to rebel against God. Demons as a race are indeed inimical to the denizens of Avalon,

but above all, we are also followers of the same Almighty God, Demis. We are capable

of looking past the previous enmity and fighting together with humans in order to

defeat the heretics who would defy God!"

Rather frantically, Belial weaved its tale as Ruti listened with a smile so slight that only

her older brother would've caught it.

So this is the truth of the beings called demons. Intriguing. If Big Brother were here, he

would be shocked. We could probably have spent hours of discussion theorizing about it.

That thought made Ruti slightly disappointed, and just that slight quiver of emotion

was enough to cause the contract demon to shudder and let out a small shriek. The

pair had returned to reality. Belial's arms and fingers were bound, and it was sitting

with Ruti in her tent, undergoing questioning.

It hadn't been tortured at all. Instead, the creature merely understood the absolute

difference in strength between it and the being embodied in the girl sitting before it.

Belial had lost all desire to resist and was merely hoping to escape this situation alive.

Waiting outside the tent, the Hero's party was secretly sympathetic to the creature's

predicament. Being alone and questioned by Ruti was frightening. The demon had no

way of knowing how the others felt, however.

Albert had been tied up and interrogated by Ares, but he had already been left alone

after Ares had decided that there was nothing valuable to be learned from him.

"So about this medicine, 'Devil's Blessing.'"

"It's a drug made using an ax demon's heart, creating a pseudo–Ax Demon blessing.

Its strength is that it allows the manipulation of blessing levels."

"Manipulation?"

"Yes, ma'am! By taking it once, a single level transfers to the Devil's Blessing. However,

if the medicine is not taken again within one week, one level will return from the

Devil's Blessing to the user's innate blessing."

"And?"

"The more valuable aspect of this is not so much the shift itself, but the fact that it

causes the user's blessing level to decrease. As you know, blessings can only grow by

defeating beings with a level similar to one's own. The Devil's Blessing won't grow

with combat… but if one used this substance, their original blessing would

temporarily lower, granting the ability to enhance one's blessing more efficiently. And

the user's combat ability would not go down thanks to the Devil's Blessing!"

That was the reason why these demons, who as a race were more faithful than any

other, had shared the secret of a mixture that had been forbidden by God. To those like

Belial, the Devil's Blessing was not a drug for repudiating one's assigned blessing but

a substance for pushing that blessing to new heights.

"I see." Ruti played with the bag of powdered medicine she had taken from the goatlegged thing.

"And this would be useful in the fight to defeat the demon lord?"

"Y-yes! Th-though for someone of your strength, the effects might not be particularly

dramatic."

"Then let's give it a try."

"Huh?"

Before Belial's eyes, Ruti swallowed the medicine without any hesitation. The demon

was at a loss for words, and its eyes widened in shock. It had, of course, wanted to get

close to the Hero. If it had thought the Devil's Blessing would help the Hero at all, it

would've even surrendered the drug to her. Never had the creature imagined Ruti to

so readily down the stuff, however.

"Poisons, sicknesses, and curses have no effect on me. If this weren't really some kind

of medicine, then my immunities would have kicked in," Ruti explained blankly,

perhaps noticing the demon's expression.

Belial had already been astonished, but upon hearing that, the demon broke into a

cold sweat.

Curses? Curses?! She has Immunity to Curses?! This isn't good! That medicine transforms

the grudge of the ax demon killed to make it and weaves it into the mixture in order to

maintain the demon's blessing that was supposed to have been lost when it died! If the

curse doesn't activate, then the Ax Demon blessing might be lost, too!

It was far too late to stop things now. Ruti had already taken the medicine. Belial's only

hope was that the Hero would vomit the substance back up before it got into her

system, but the demon hardly possessed the power to force something like that to

happen.

With a silent prayer to God, the contract demon prayed that the Devil's Blessing would

manifest.

In the early morning of the day that followed, Ares and Theodora watched with

dumbfounded expressions as the airship sailed into the horizon. Still tied up, Albert

watched on with unease, not entirely understanding the situation.

"What happened?" Theodora asked.

"I don't know. Maybe the airship was stolen…?" Ares replied.

"Don't play stupid. Neither the Hero nor Tisse is here. We've been left behind,"

Theodora said.

"Th-that's absurd! There's no way! How would they fight without my magic?!" Ares

questioned.

"I'm sure the Hero will manage," Theodora fired back coolly. Ignoring Ares, she went

to investigate Ruti's emptied out tent.

"This is…"

The contract demon's corpse lay on the ground with its head severed from its body.

"I suppose this rules out the possibility that she's been tricked by the demon…"

A few bits of equipment and survival gear were strewn about, but it seemed that Ruti

had taken the important things along with her via her item box. However…

"Th-that's impossible!"

A shiver ran down Theodora's spine when she saw a certain object discarded on the

ground.

"The proof of the Hero! The legendary orichalcum talisman that was sealed in the

ancient elf ruins?!"

Despite residing in a forest near the capital, the ancient elf ruins had never before been

entered, and this charm Ruti had left behind had been found at the deepest level of

those old elven buildings. Returning with that item had been how Ruti had gotten the

world to acknowledge her as the Hero.

It seemed impossible that Ruti the Hero would cast aside something like that, yet here

it was.

"Maybe I should go back to where we found the airship."

Alone, Theodora left the camp.

My name is Tisse Garland. I'm a member of the Assassins Guild and a bearer of the

Divine Blessing of the Assassin.

As a child, I was sold to a slave merchant and bought at the market by my guild. I've

made a living as a hired killer for as long as I can remember. My favorite food is oden

chikuwa.

After a particular series of events, I wound up becoming a member of the Hero's party.

Admittedly, there was always some part of me that dreamed of being a hero one day,

but my client, Mr. Ares, made it very clear that I was just filling an empty spot until he

could find the next real member.

I have a pet jumping spider named Mister Crawly Wawly. The Mister is part of his

name. He looks really cute when he raises his front legs and waves them. I'm glad that

the Assassin blessing has access to the skill Spider Understanding so I can handle

venomous spiders.

Despite how scary things were on the airship, Mister Crawly Wawly was moving

cheerfully across my shoulders, waving a foreleg to cheer me on. I was glad for it,

because I thought I was going to throw up from how scary it all was.

"How long until we reach Zoltan?" a bone-chilling voice demanded.

"It should be about three days, I think…"

"That's amazing. Even an express ship would have taken more than a week."

I think she was pleased, but it was hard to tell when her expression never changed. My

heart thrummed in my ears as my hands trembled, and my body sweated profusely.

Basically, I was scared for my life.

Even faced with milady the Hero, you're still just fine because you have me, Mister Crawly

Wawly communicated to me via a tap on my shoulder. It was a nice thing to say, but I

definitely wasn't okay. By using something I'd learned from my guild, I was able to

keep a straight face, but on the inside, I was in tears.

I was operating an airship.

According to a legend that comes from the homeland of an old friend of mine in the

Assassins Guild, there was an orc hero named Whitefang who'd betrayed one of the

previous demon lords, stole an airship, and fought for justice alongside humanity.

My friend hadn't believed the legend, either, of course, but she was quite skilled at

telling stories. When I asked, she told me her blessing was Deadly Courtesan, an

upper-class prostitute assassin. Maybe that was why her tales sounded so enthralling.

Anyway, there was a part in her tale where Whitefang taught the young slave girl he

fell in love with how to control the airship.

It was just a sing-along sort of song to explain the way to fly the vessel, but I would

never have imagined I would actually end up using that knowledge to control an actual

one myself.

There were some subtle differences, but by putting some unused skill points I'd had

saved into the common skill Steering, I figured out the rest with a little trial and error.

The downside was that I ended up being forced by the Hero to fly the ship.

"U-um…"

"What?"

"If you'd rather not say, I won't pry, but… why Zoltan?"

I really wanted to ask why the Hero had left the rest of her party behind, but I was too

scared to inquire about something like that.

Please help me, Mister Crawly Wawly, I thought.

"?"

I glanced down, but Mister Crawly Wawly just tilted his head, at a loss for how to

respond. He sure was cute.

The Hero looked a little bit troubled, but she pulled a small paper package out of her

cloak and showed it to me.

"I have the recipe for how to make this medicine, but I don't know what skills are

required to prepare it. That's why I'm going to Zoltan. That's where the person who

made it is."

"A medicine?"

"Yes."

"…"

"…"

"U-um, what kind of medicine is it?"

When I asked that, something truly terrifying happened. The Hero looked me straight

in the eyes… and her lips spread into a smile. Someone once told me that smiles were

originally expressions of savage aggression. I was scared to my core.

"I-I'm sor—"

"This remedy is my only hope, but there are only three doses left. The effect only lasts

one week, so I need to be able to restock at a consistent interval… That's why I want

to reach Zoltan as soon as possible."

"Y-yes, ma'am! I'll do my best!"

Arghhhh! I shouldn't have asked!

All I needed to do was take the Hero wherever she wanted to go. I had no reason to

overthink things. At best, I was just an extension of the airship—a cog spinning away.

Mister Crawly Wawly hopped up and down on my shoulder, doing his best to comfort

me.

Don't worry, I'll do my best. I promised to find you a cute partner, after all.

Mister Crawly Wawly's cute little movements were the only thing keeping me going.

"The weather's nice," the Hero said as she looked up at the sky.

I'm just a cog in the machine. Gotta keep spinning…

"Thank you for everything," Al said as he lowered his head.

Evening had come rather quickly. Al had helped out at the store during the day and

had trained with Rit afterward. Following that, the three of us shared a nice dinner.

"You can stay the night if you want, you know," Rit offered.

Al smiled appreciatively, but he shook his head.

"No, it's too comfortable here… If I slept here, I wouldn't leave until noon, and then it'd

be dusk again before I knew what'd happened."

"I see."

The shotel Rit and I had bought for Al was at the boy's waist. Draped over his shoulders

was a durable traveler's cloak that Rit had picked out for him. Beneath it, he was

wearing the silver breastplate he'd received from Bighawk. Apparently, Albert had

been the one who'd selected it. The fact that it fit Al perfectly even though they had

never met in person was a testament to Albert's sense of gear that he'd honed to make

sure that his comrades who lacked strength would not be defeated when taking on Brank quests.

On Al's back was a bag with preserved rations, a whetstone, some rope, soap, a lantern,

fuel, flint and tinder, vials of hemostatic and disinfectant that I had picked out for him,

three cure potions, an iron pot, cooking utensils, and a sleeping bag.

Equipped as he was, anyone would think him a proper adventurer, no matter where

he went.

"I'm sorry for intruding on your dinner."

A woman in a monastic outfit lowered her head apologetically. She was Ria, the monk

who had previously been in Albert's party.

She and a couple of others had ended up forming a party with Al to go out adventuring.

It was an E-rank party, in line with Al's rank.

In the aftermath of the Devil's Blessing incident, the contract demon and Albert had

seemingly escaped from prison. Bighawk had been left behind but had lost all of the

bulk he'd built up. What remained of the half-orc was little more than a shriveled husk.

Normally, there would've been no escaping a death sentence for what Bighawk had

done, but the demon scholars in Central had expressed an interest in someone who'd

survived an agreement with a contract demon, so Bighawk had been carted off to the

capital the other day.

The whole thing was quite the shake-up for Zoltan. The number two of the Thieves

Guild and the top adventurer in the town had been exposed as coconspirators, there

was almost a riot among the citizenry, demons had been discovered in town, a strange

drug had been circulated, and several people had lost their lives.

After things had finally quieted down, however, the people of Zoltan went about their

lives as if little had changed. Residents of Southmarsh still bore hostility toward

lawmen, and the upper and lower classes still held fast to their dislike of each other.

Albert was gone, but Bui had taken over as a B-rank adventurer in his stead. From

what I'd been hearing, he seemed to be doing quite well.

Most things seemed unchanged. There was one major difference to come out of all that

trouble, however.

"Your words were deeply moving! When you managed to stop the fighting before it

broke out like that, I realized you had the qualities of a real hero!"

Apparently, Albert's party members had been at Bighawk's mansion during the

gathering. After it had calmed down, Ria had been so moved by Al and Ademi's plea

that she'd resolved to team up with the young weapon master.

At such an unexpected request, Al had replied, "I'm still just a level-one novice, but… I

look forward to working with you!"

Where had that boy who'd been so scared of his own blessing gone? He'd vanished,

and in his place was a determined young adventurer who'd come to accept his blessing

and was moving ahead in life.

Many things returned to normal after all the trouble in Zoltan, but Al had forever

changed.

"Anyway, we're headed out now!" Al said, extending his hand. Rit and I both gave it a

firm handshake.

"Do your best," Rit encouraged.

"If you ever need medicine, don't hesitate to stop by. You'll always have a discount

here," I said.

"I could never! I'm going to find an amazing treasure. Once I do, I'll come back and buy

so much from your shop that you'll be able to give Miss Rit a mithril ring!" Al declared.

"That would be lovely!" Rit replied.

"Mithril, huh. That's some big talk," I commented.

Not bad, I thought. It's confidence that helps you grow. I patted Al's curly head. I was

suddenly struck by the realization that this was likely to be the last time I'd be able to

treat him like a child. Some part of me was a little bit sad.

"Do your best, young adventurer," I said.

"Yes, sir!" Al flashed a broad smile. With the tiniest bit of loneliness in his eyes, he

departed.

"He really left," I muttered.

"Yup," Rit answered.

"Having him stay here kind of felt like raising a kid," I thought aloud.

"I had that same thought," Rit admitted.

The two of us exchanged a look.

"Kids, huh? That wouldn't be so bad." A grin spread across my face.

"No, it wouldn't." Rit wore the same sort of expression.

After what'd felt like no end of trouble, our slow and easy Zoltan life had finally

returned.