Chapter 17

〈 Chapter 17 〉 Meanwhile, at that moment, the Hero Party (2)

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“Hero! I’m coming in!”

To shake off the heavy thoughts weighing on her chest, Apis yelled with a fiercer tone than usual and slammed the door open.

Flap flap.

As soon as the door opened, a flurry of white papers scattered around like they were doves without wings, making Apis’ vision go blurry.

But amidst thousands of wyverns, the elven girl’s sharp golden eyes, who could precisely discern the target she had set her sights on, remained unfazed by the unexpected distraction and effortlessly identified her target.

A beautiful sword.

If one were to define the girl before her in a single sentence, Apis believed there could be no more accurate description than this.

With hair that shimmered like sunlight woven into fabric and skin so flawless it put white porcelain to shame, there was not a single scar nor even a common blemish, having leaped over countless trials.

This perfectly formed being, gathered from such fantastical elements, was surely the most definitive proof of the existence that humankind called a god.

The Hero. Trayana Abigail.

Without a hint of admiration, without awe, Apis calmly described her impressions of her, which strangely always ended with her praising words.

Apis, who spent most of the money she earned from adventures on collecting old fairy tale books, had entertained the suspicion that when she first met her, this girl might just have jumped out of one of those tales, especially considering her stunning appearance.

“…What are you doing?”

In a tone that was far from any previous reverence, Apis said, sounding genuinely incredulous.

Standing on the floor like the legendary sword described in fairy tales that awaited its master as it was driven into the ground, the Hero was deep in thought, lost in her own musings that left Apis utterly bewildered.

“Oh! Apis! What brings you here at such a late hour?”

Her voice was so bright and booming that it could make one forget the late hour where the sun had barely taken a breath.

Knowing very well that she had been trying her best to lower her volume, Apis succeeded in biting down on the itch to add some trivial comments.

“Then what kind of nonsense are you up to at this hour?”

She couldn’t withstand the urge to throw a sharp retort at her comrade’s antics happening under the moonlight.

“I was injecting blood into my head!”

“What?”

“At that moment of struggling with some unfamiliar paperwork, suddenly! An ingenious idea flashed through my mind! If only I could concentrate the magic power in one specific area like I were channeling blood to my head! This task, which feels as overwhelming as facing an upper-tier golem with critical strike resistance, would surely become a little easier, wouldn’t it?!”

“…So has it become easier?”

“Not at all! It just gave me a dizzy head!”

“Then why not just give up?”

“That’s a sensible decision! I shall do just that!”

In a split second, the Hero spun around mid-air and got back into position, prompting Apis to think.

So far, today was just like any other day.

With a widely recognized, mystical appearance, every time she opened her mouth, she poured out remarks as if they were from another dimension. Instead of feeling embarrassed, Apis felt a sense of familiarity that made her question when this became the norm.

Should she call it pure? Or foolish?

Maybe, “excessively honest and upright” is the most suitable expression.

She maintained an optimism that could rival someone only looking at the bright side of life, but wasn’t so naïve as to overlook the evils lurking in the shadows, causing strife for others.

While she felt mighty pride in her words and actions, she was also meticulous in listening to ideas that conflicted with her own, never neglecting the vigilance against the arrogance that often plagues the blessed.

Because of her character, Apis could acknowledge and accept the Hero, who was so far from the figure she always admired, as the one most deserving of the sacred title.

“I was afraid to ask, but you really were still fixated on writing that foolish apology letter? It’s already been concluded that the soldiers who messed up the carriage wheel are to blame, right? No need for you to apologize…”

“No! It’s my responsibility! I lost focus in the cheers of the citizens and failed to prevent the accident when the kid fell in front of the cart! If I commit an error, I must take appropriate responsibility! If I neglect that, I have no right to call myself a Hero!”

“Right… You would think so… But seriously, was it necessary to smash the statue you made?”

“It was an unavoidable judgment! Had I not destroyed the statue there, who knows who would have been responsible for its damage!”

“…”

But that statue. It was made in honor of ‘that guy’, wasn’t it?

Apis couldn’t bring herself to speak those words.

Usually devoid of greed, always cautious of the political ramifications of her utterances, she recognized that it was rare for the Hero to make a demand of the royal family beyond matters related to monster subjugation, and more so, that this request was born from her own desires—making it her first true instance since receiving the title of Hero.

So when that request came from the Hero’s lips to create a statue, Apis and the entire party were stupefied.

Several high-ranking officials in the royal family grinned, calling it an opportunity to repay the Hero, while conspiracy theorists busily sought to undermine her by claiming she was becoming obsessed with fame.

But when the Hero personally mentioned the name of the village where the statue would be erected, Apis understood the implications behind that request.

Ridin Village.

A small, unremarkable village with no notable geographical features or impressive local products; a village that was neither too small nor too big, just plain.

Until it was explicitly mentioned by the Hero, it had sunk to the bottom of her memory, so blurred that she could barely recognize it.

‘That guy’s’ hometown.

When the Hero asked for the statue, Apis could vividly recall the Hero’s indecision, almost like witnessing a child who had never thrown a tantrum trying to stubbornly ask for something.

“L-Lidin Village… I… I would like a statue made, please…”

The Hero, who always spoke in commanding tones, was looking down instead of up at the sky, her voice so guarded that it was a surprise to Apis.

The Hero merely wanted to see a lifeless object resembling her own self breathe but, with a rare flustered expression, she offered a nonsensical excuse.

But Apis, who knew how much the Hero cherished ‘that guy’, couldn’t help but be deceived by that cute lie.

Surely, she was here. That unchanging form would be waiting for you till the end.

It was her own clumsy message, realizing that her expressive abilities were lacking.

On the day of the procession, amidst the warm cheers that welcomed her, the desperate appearance of someone searching for something matched the figure of a frail girl waiting for a response to her question.

However, that message shattered into pieces.

Moreover, by her own hands, for a reason that made it unavoidable.

When she smashed the statue with her own hands, Apis had no idea what expression the Hero wore.

The Hero had always insisted on putting on a bright smile in front of the public, for she was the one who must extinguish the anxieties of this world.

She must have been smiling. She would have smiled. There’s no doubt about it.

Because she was the Hero.

Yet on that night, Apis clearly realized the presence of the tears hidden beneath the pillow, tears she refused to believe. This time, she couldn’t be deceived. She could not condone that pitiable act that even tried to fool her own heart.

Thus,

“Hey, Hero.”

“Yes? What’s up! Apis! Why such a serious face? Uh-oh! Could it be… Do you have some sort of worry…?”

“You need to leave this party.”

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