Part 2 of 8
Even if it’s not our fault, we can’t forget that we didn’t do what was expected of us.
If we had, we might have been able to save them.
But we didn’t.
And we must never forget that reality, no matter what.
“I know I haven’t done anything, nor is there anything I could have done. I know this is all merely lip service. But if I can’t even make promises like that, then I’m not fit to be the hero.”
With that, I turn my back on the commander and return to our carriage.
Once inside, Hyrince kindly greets me with a what am I going to do with you sort of smile.
At times like these, I’m grateful to have a friend who understands me without a word needing to be said.
Although I’m not sure why Yaana is fidgeting bashfully next to him.
“Hyrince. I’m going to do it.”
“Of course. I’ll be right behind you.”
Hyrince doesn’t ask me do what? or anything like that.
He simply says that he’ll follow me, no matter what I’m planning.
Yes, I still have plenty of time.
I thought I could slowly get closer to the members of the force, little by little.
But that’s not good enough.
I might have time, but with every second that passes, there are people who can no longer be saved.
They don’t have a single moment to spare.
Why does a hero fight?
For the people.
I finally remember that resolution I made.
And so I can’t afford to take my time.
With renewed determination, I keep moving forward.
THE EMPIRE VETERAN AND THE COMMANDER
“I heard there was an incident.”
“Ah, Sir Tiva. Yes, you could say that.”
The commander in question looks away evasively.
As the deputy high commander, I’m technically ranked above him, but he’s a man of no small importance in his own country, so it seems his pride prevents him from completely deferring to me as his superior officer.
All the more so with Sir Hero, who is so much younger than he is.
And this man isn’t the only commander who feels that way.
Those who were invited to be commanders in the special task force all boast individual strength and a long list of accomplishments, so they’re unsurprisingly reluctant to serve under a child with no experience, even if he is the hero.
Which is why they reached the unspoken agreement of treating Sir Hero as no more than a figurehead.
I cannot say that choice is entirely wrong.
Sir Hero is a child, and admittedly one without any deeds to his name.
It’s only logical to assume that it would be more effective for the commanders with experience to lead the force with their knowledge.
If you ignore the temperament of the hero, that is.
“What does Sir Hero look like to you?”
At that, the commander appears to think carefully.
He must be trying to figure out the correct way to answer my question.
“No need to overthink it. You can just tell me what you really think. I swear to you that I will tell no one.”
Since the commanders come from so many different countries, the force is a jumble of different motivations and interests.
One wrong word from any of them could put their country at a disadvantage.
I assume that is why this man is reluctant to give me his frank opinion.
He hesitates a moment longer, then utters one short sentence:
“I think he may be a little bit too direct.”
But I’m sure it isn’t simply my imagination when I sense that there are many complex feelings contained in his words.
No doubt, he resents Sir Hero for escalating the conflict with the townspeople.
But is there not perhaps some small part of him that admires the boy’s dazzling sincerity?
“Sir Hero is a child, so we adults must set a proper example for him.”
“Of course.”
“At least, I’m sure that’s the false impression most of the force is laboring under.”
“Eh?”
The man nods along at first but then blinks in surprise at the last part of my statement.
“The title of Hero is bestowed upon the person who the gods deem most fitting for the role,” I say, though that much is common knowledge to everyone. “So yes, Sir Hero is a child. But he was selected as the hero over any of us adults. I think it might be prudent for all of us to think long and hard about what that means.”
The commander falls into stunned silence.
All the commanders in this force are people of great importance.
But none of them was chosen to be the hero.
Instead, the title was given to Sir Julius, who is still yet a child.
Does that mean we adults were all deemed unfit?
Or that Sir Hero is simply more exceptional than any of us?
I’m sure the commanders will all learn the answer soon enough. I’ve already seen it for myself.
I witnessed his incredibly noble spirit in the former Keren County of Sariella, regardless of his age.
The title is not what makes him the hero.
He is the hero because he is already worthy.
He won’t allow the commanders to continue treating him as a useless figurehead forever, whatever they might think.
I’m sure he’ll break through that wall soon enough.
And I imagine when the time comes, he will grow all the better for it.
I need only look on, as much as I may wish to interfere.
Partly because I believe that he must be able to confront this level of adversity on his own.
But also because the commanders must learn what kind of a person Sir Hero truly is.
My meddling would be of no help to him here.
“May I ask what it is you fight for?”
“Me…?”
The commander looks uncertain, avoiding my gaze.
“As you grow older, you begin to forget what it is you’re fighting for. For your nation, for the people, or perhaps for yourself? There are many reasons, but no doubt in the beginning, you fought for one of them with great passion.”
To fight means to constantly risk death.
Without dedication, few would ever be able to overcome that horror and fight.
But as one continues to fight, that passion slowly turns into force of habit, and you begin to forget your reasons for being on the battlefield.
“Sir Hero would be able to answer right away, I am sure.”
That’s why he shines so brilliantly in the eyes of his elders, like me.
“You said he is too direct, but is that really such a problem? Are heroes not exactly the kind of people who can face problems head-on and stay true to a creed?”
The commander falls silent, unable to respond to my question.
But that reaction is answer enough.
I’ve been sent off to the academy.
A boarding school.
How dare they do such a thing!
I already scarcely ever got to see Merazophis, and now I have to stay at a boarding school?!
And we’re not even allowed to leave without submitting a request?
There are formalities involved in having visitors at the academy, too?
But that’ll just make it even harder for me to go see Merazophis or for him to come see me!
How dare they!
How DARE they!
Well, clearly I’ve got no choice but to run away!
But when I tried to break my dorm window and rush straight to Merazophis, I somehow found myself tied up in thread an instant later.
I could barely move, but I managed to turn my head in time to see Sael, Riel, and Fiel high-fiving.
Are they here just to keep an eye on me?!
Honestly, how DARE they!
JULIUS, AGE 12: SURPRISE ATTACK
It’s all well and good to make grand resolutions, but what follows is a series of small steps.
First, I tried participating in the strategy meetings to open up a dialogue with the commanders, but to little avail.
Since I’d forced my way into participating, everyone pretended I wasn’t present.
They were discussing where the force should head next and what strategy they should use to track down and dismantle the organization’s presence there.
There was very little I could add to that conversation. I didn’t want to say pointless things and get in the way.
I had no input on what our next destination should be, since that involved many political factors, and I never found any fault with the strategy drafted by the experienced commanders.
Ultimately, I usually just sit in on the meetings in silence.
…I’d like to think that even showing my face at the meetings has purpose.
And as expected, I had no part to play on the field, either.
Since the human-trafficking organization operates across so many different nations, its total scale is undeniably enormous.
However, that holds true only when looking at the big picture.
In terms of the small individual branches in each area, they’re hardly any different from your run-of-the-mill band of thieves.
In fact, it seems like the human-trafficking organization more often than not uses whatever active criminals they find in their target regions and simply folds them into their nefarious schemes.
Since these outlaws usually skulk outside the safety of towns in places where monsters also lurk, they’re fairly strong.
But the special task force consists of elite soldiers drawn from every nation. Of course they’re not going to lose to bandits.
No matter how many levels the brigands have, they can’t match fighters who have formal training and combat experience.
Our force’s commanders thoroughly research the makeup of each local branch of the organization and then devise an appropriate strategy before raiding the hideouts, meaning the criminals don’t stand a chance.
And there’s no place for me in this efficient process of steadily crushing the organization.
That’s fine, of course. I’m glad that it’s going well.
And yet…
“Am I really even necessary?”
“That’s way too deep a question for me to answer.”
Hyrince shakes his head at my musing.
“Hiyah!”
With a loud cry, a wooden sword comes hurtling down at my head.
I quickly raise my own wooden sword to parry it.
I’m currently doing some independent training.
As a figurehead commander, I have plenty of time to spare, so Hyrince and I have been doing some sparring.
Of course, Hyrince can’t beat me, thanks to my Hero title.
Our level of technique is around the same, but the difference in our stats makes me much stronger.
“Tch!”
Seeing his big swing foiled, Hyrince clicks his tongue and quickly jumps back.
But before he can fully retreat, I close in on him and swing my sword from one side to the other.
Hyrince blocks the practice sword with a wooden shield.
Realizing early on that he would never beat me blow for blow, Hyrince quickly abandoned a sword-focused style and instead opted for a shield in one hand and his sword in the other.
He’s got a better constitution than most people our age, so he’s strong enough to wield both effectively, even with only one hand for each.
Attacking with a powerful swing of his sword and defending with a sturdy shield he keeps raised.
His stable fighting style reflects his personality perfectly.
Ever since he started using a shield, his results have definitely improved in our sparring matches.
“Owww. Ugh, okay, I surrender.”
In that it takes more time for him to surrender, that is.
No matter how well he might fight, it’s not enough to make up for the differences in our stats.
Even after intercepting my attack with his shield, Hyrince was still sent flying.
Plus, that move left a huge crack in his wooden shield.
“Aw, man. I’m gonna have to replace this thing.”
Hyrince sighs as he looks at his ruined shield.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Practice or not, you won’t get much out of it if you hold back, right?”
“That’s true.”
I really have learned a lot from these sparring matches.
To be honest, I’m not particularly good with a sword.
My mentor, Master Ronandt, is a legendary mage, so I’m more adept with magic than weapons.
I wound up separated from him by the Word of God Church due to his radical training methods.
But in the short time we spent together, my magic abilities made a huge leap forward.
That man really is amazing…even if he does have some serious issues.
At any rate, with these sparring matches, I can try to bring my swordsmanship up to par with my magic.
There are a lot of things that can be learned only by crossing swords with another person, things I’d never figure out by practicing on my own.
Even if my stats are higher than Hyrince’s, our abilities and skills aren’t too far apart.
That’s how we’ve been pushing each other to greater heights.
If anything, I think continuously challenging someone with higher stats like me is helping Hyrince hone his skills even faster.
Then the sound of clapping brings me out of my thoughts.
Turning around, I see that Mr. Tiva has been watching us.
“Bravo. Excellent work. I’m impressed that you can move like that at such a young age.”
“Thank you very much. But I’m sure I still couldn’t come close to being a match for you, right?”
I thank him for the praise, but I’m fairly certain my swordsmanship still can’t hold a candle to his.
“Heh. I suppose not. Believe it or not, I was once said to be second in skill only to the prior sword-king, the so-called god of swordsmanship himself. These old bones won’t lose to a youngster like you just yet.”
No wonder Mr. Tiva is a general of the empire.
The previous sword-king was considered on par with Master Ronandt in power.
If he was second only to a man on the same level as my insanely powerful master, Mr. Tiva really is no ordinary person—not that I didn’t already suspect as much.
“But of course, that’s only in terms of swordsmanship. You’ve been trained in magic by Sir Ronandt. If anything, magic is your primary weapon more than your sword. If you combine the two, you might even be able to land a hit or two on me.”
“I notice you didn’t say I might beat you.”
“Ha-ha. Old as I may be, I do have my pride. I can hardly go around losing to youngsters barely older than my grandson.”
Mr. Tiva looks over at Hyrince, who’s stepped away in silence to avoid intruding on our conversation.
“Your name is Hyrince, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me see that a moment.”
Tiva borrows the cracked wooden shield from Hyrince.
“Sir Hero, please attack me with all your might.”
As I look at him uncertainly, Mr. Tiva holds the shield in his left hand.
“What? But…”
“It’s all right.”
I’m worried about what might happen if I hit that cracked shield as hard as I can, but he smiles reassuringly.
“All right, then.”
I decide to trust him and swing my wooden sword with all my strength.
The sword comes down on the shield from above, but just as it makes contact—I feel something strange.
The next thing I know, I’m holding the sword out to the side at a strange angle.
“What was that?”
“I deflected your attack,” Tiva explains. “Instead of trying to bear the brunt of its power, I simply changed its direction.”
Tiva hands the shield back to Hyrince.
“If your opponent is too strong, you won’t accomplish much by trying to block their attacks head-on. At times, you must create an opening by redirecting their strength. Those who wield shields are often in danger because of this. Quick decisions need to be made about which attacks can be blocked or deflected. You have a fine eye and a quick mind. No doubt you will make a great shield bearer one day.”
“Thank you. That’s very helpful.”
Tiva claps Hyrince on the shoulder encouragingly.
“I must say, I’m almost envious. The Analeit Kingdom has many promising youngsters, not only Sir Hero here.”
With that, Mr. Tiva departs from the training grounds.
“Huh. He complimented me. I’m just your attendant, though.”
“What’s wrong with that? You can be my guard, too.”
Besides, this friend is more than just an attendant to me.
Even putting aside my bias, Hyrince is undeniably talented, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to be a mere attendant forever, either.
If he did, he wouldn’t be sparring with me like this.
I’m sure Hyrince wants to fight by my side, not just follow along behind me.
Or am I being vain?
Once again, we’re rocking back and forth inside a carriage.
Fortunately, I was at least able to convince the commanders to switch out the fancy carriage for a standard military transport.
But that’s just about the only change; I still get shoved into a carriage and don’t get to do anything during our expeditions.
This time will be the same…or at least, that’s what I thought.
Suddenly, I hear a commotion outside the cart.
At the same time, I can hear several impacts.
“What’s happening?”
“Yaana! Don’t go near the window!”
The girl saint tries to peer outside, but I grab her shoulder and pull her back.
Seconds later, an arrowhead crashes into the window.
“Eek?!”
The arrow doesn’t break the window, embedding itself partway into the glass.
But if Yaana had poked her head out, she could’ve been hit.
“An attack—must be an ambush.” Hyrince groans.
Outside the carriage, I hear the shouts and clanging of soldiers trying to fend off the rain of arrows.
The quiet thunk-thunk of them impacting the wood encasing us continues, so there must be a considerable amount coming at us.
Fortunately, since we switched to a sturdy military carriage, arrows don’t have much effect.
If they can’t even break through the glass, we should be safe in the cabin.
As long as the enemy only has arrows, at least.
But even if we’re safe inside the carriage, the same isn’t true of the soldiers outside.
“Yaana, you stay in here! Hyrince, protect her!”
“Julius—dammit! All right.”
Hyrince starts to object but changes his mind when he sees Yaana’s face, pale from the attack.
“Huh? What? Sir Hero, what about you?”
“Don’t worry. Just trust me.”
I smile as gently as I can to reassure the anxious Yaana.
Then I gather my courage and leap out of the carriage, quickly shutting the door behind me.
Noticing me, the soldiers guarding our carriage stare with wide eyes.
“Sir Hero?! It’s too dangerous! Go back inside at once!”
“We’ll protect you—don’t worry!”
Immediately, several guards rush over and raise their shields around me, trying to usher me back into the carriage.
In this moment, I’m not only a figurehead commander to them but also a vulnerable child and even a burden.
An object to be protected, since it would be troublesome if I died.
But that’s not how it should be. That’s not right at all!
“Don’t worry about me! Protect the wounded!” I shout.
At the same time, I create a light barrier with magic.
It doesn’t have the sturdiness that the physical mass an Earth Magic barrier would provide, but it should be enough to stop arrows that can’t penetrate a glass window.
“Who am I?!” I raise my voice so everyone around me can hear. “I am the hero! And is the hero someone to be protected?! No! The hero is someone who protects others!”
Even as I shout, enemy arrows keep raining down.
But all of them are blocked by my barrier before they reach us.
“Don’t be afraid! These missiles have little force behind them! As long as they don’t hit a vital spot, they won’t kill us!”
I push the soldiers aside as they try to protect me, making my way to the front.
The arrows are coming from a forest on the side of the road.
Judging by the amount of arrows, I’d estimate the archers number in the dozens.
Certainly less than a hundred, but not exactly a small amount, either.
If I remember right, that should be the full strength of the human-trafficking organization in this area.
In other words, they must have brought all their members to lie in wait and ambush us here.
The human traffickers aren’t stupid. It’s only natural that they would take countermeasures if they found out we’re going after them.
We haven’t been making any real effort to hide our activities, after all.
We’ve been traveling through towns, mostly to reassure the people there.
So it makes sense that we’d run into an ambush or two.
In fact, it’s almost been going too well until now.
But the soldiers of the task force must have gotten too used to things going well, or perhaps the chain of command is still in disarray because they’re a mishmash of so many different nations. Either way, the unit’s reaction is far too slow and uncertain.
“Move the wounded back to safety! Soldiers with shields, to the front!”
At a glance, there don’t seem to be any fatalities yet, but I can definitely spot some soldiers with arrows piercing their arms or legs.
That’s why I give the order to evacuate the wounded and command the shield bearers to assemble on the front lines.
But it’s not happening fast enough.
The soldiers each look at their respective commanders questioningly, and they start moving only after the commanders nod.
We’re still under attack. Why aren’t they moving faster?
In our battles so far, they’ve executed prearranged plans to great success, so this is the first time they’ve had to react on the spot.
Now it’s all too clear that the chain of command hasn’t been properly defined.
Maybe they’re not hurrying because we’re not in too much trouble yet.
The arrows flying at us aren’t particularly powerful. And the task force is composed of elite soldiers, so this isn’t that impressive of an attack to them.
Most of the wounded were hit only in the initial surprise attack.
Now that we’re past that, there’s hardly any concern of the arrows claiming lives.
But as a result, they’re calm enough to look to their commanders for confirmation instead of just following my orders.
If we were in a real pinch right now, maybe they would’ve obeyed me without question.
I’m glad there’s no threat of further casualties, of course, but it’s frustrating that the men won’t react quickly enough.
We can’t just defend ourselves forever, after all.
Our goal is to eliminate the human-trafficking organization, so we have to defeat whoever’s attacking us right now.
If we can just weather this attack, the odds will most likely work out in our favor.
The bandits don’t have an endless supply of arrows, so once they run out, we can go on the offensive.
But will they stand around waiting for us to reach them?
No, I doubt it.
If they’re smart enough to lie in wait and ambush us, I’m sure they’ll recognize when it would be in their best interest to flee.
And if they run away, that doesn’t mean we’ve won—quite the opposite.
Any of them who get away will simply go on to commit the same crimes in other areas.
Letting any escape runs counter to all the reasons why we’ve come here in the first place.
“Those who are able, follow me!”
I draw my sword and dash toward the forest.
Arrows slice through the air around me as I rush out on my own, but I block the barrage with my barrier without slowing down.
Before long, I reach the tree line.
The ambushers hidden in the trees cast aside their bows and draw their swords.
Their collective faces seem a little stressed but far from panicked. Probably because they’ve noticed I’m a child. They’ve lowered their guard.
It’s not only my allies who take me lightly because of my age.
Enemies are actually all the more likely to underestimate me because of my appearance.
Fine by me!
“Hiyaaah!”
One bandit slashes at me with a sword, but I repel it.
The unimpressive arrow barrage has given me a rough idea of our enemy’s strength.
Even if we trade blows head-on, I’ll clearly come out on top.
I knock back the sword with my own, and it falls from the man’s hand, clattering away behind him.
“Huh?”
The man looks blankly at his now-empty sword hand.
He’s wide open.
But I…
“Ah!”
…I hesitate for only a moment.
Then I cut the outlaw down.
I feel my sword sink into his flesh.
That’s enough confirmation to know that I’ve at least incapacitated him, so I move on to the next enemy without looking to see the result.
…No, that’s only an excuse.
I’m simply afraid to see what I just did.
Afraid to come to terms with the reality that I slew someone.
I’m too inexperienced a fighter to incapacitate someone without killing them.
So I had no other choice.
…For the first time in my life, I killed someone with my own hands.
“…ro! Sir Hero!”
“Huh?”
Mr. Tiva shakes me by the shoulders, bringing me back to my senses.
“It’s all right now. The enemy’s been wiped out.”
Blinking, I realize he’s right, although I don’t know how it happened.
My memories of the rest of the battle after I cut down that one man are hazy.
I think I was fighting in a trance.
Just like that other time.
The first battlefield I ever experienced.
The day I fought the Nightmare of the Labyrinth.
That time, I was terrified as the Nightmare slaughtered people one after another, but I still stepped forward despite myself.
The horror of facing down such an impossibly strong opponent was so great that I barely remember that moment.
I found myself jumping in front of the Nightmare of the Labyrinth, and next thing I knew, it was all over.
And the battle after that went much the same way.
When the swarm of spiders attacked that town of Keren County, I lost myself in the fighting, and by the time I came to my senses, my master had already won.
How shameful.
From the looks of things, I haven’t grown a bit since then.
I’ve trained so much and improved on my stats and skills.
But that doesn’t matter if I can’t keep my cool on the battlefield.
I inhale deeply and let out the breath slowly.
Somehow, that seems to bring my vision back to normal.
I start to see things I couldn’t a moment ago and hear things that were deafened.
The bandits lying prone all over the ground.
My allies inspecting the bodies.
The sound of a commander barking orders.
Everything is a confirmation that the battle has indeed ended.
“It’s…all over.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
I was only speaking to myself, but another voice responds.
Turning around, I see Mr. Tiva standing there with a grave expression.
…In fact, his hand is still on my shoulder.
If I didn’t even realize that, I guess I must still be more shaken up than I thought.
I take another deep breath.
As I do so, the thick stench of blood assails my nose and mouth, causing me to choke.
It’s not that I’ve never smelled blood before, but certainly not enough times to be used to it yet.
And this is the first time that I’ve been the source of it.
I cough a few times, then breathe deeply again once I’ve settled down.
This time, I do my best to ignore the smell of blood.
“Feeling a little calmer?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Mr. Tiva gently removes his hand from my shoulder.
I’m still clutching my sword in both hands, so I try to put it back in its scabbard, but my left hand won’t let go of the hilt.
“Huh?”
I try again, but I’m shaking too much.
After a great deal of effort, I manage to wrench my hand free, but my movements are as stiff and shaky as if I’ve been caught in a snowstorm.
Getting my sword back into its scabbard still proves difficult, as the clots of blood stuck to it are in the way.
I should probably clean it off somehow before putting it away, but I can’t bring myself to do it right now. I’ll have to take care of it later when I’ve calmed down.
“The others can handle the rest. Please, Sir Hero, go back to your carriage for now.”
“Right. Yes. I’ll do that.”
I nod slowly at Tiva’s offer.
There’s still a lot to do: apprehending the surviving criminals, treating our wounded allies, and so on.
But in my current state, I’d only be in the way.
I start walking toward the carriage, and Tiva falls into step beside me. After a moment, he asks a question.
“…Why did you run out on your own?”
“I thought it was the right thing to do.”
At the time, I was the only one who moved quickly.
So the most logical decision was for me to take action so the enemy wouldn’t get away.
“Even though you’ve clearly pushed yourself past your limits?”
At that, I can’t help but fall silent.
Even now, I don’t think my decision was wrong.
If I hadn’t moved right then, some of the criminals would’ve gotten away.
There’s little doubt about that.
And I knew I could exterminate the attackers, so I did just that.
In practical terms, I’m confident that I made the best decision.
But I didn’t take my own emotional fragility into account.
“I’m so ashamed.”
I clench my trembling fist.
I was able to defeat them easily.
So why am I in such a pitiful state now?
I thought I knew that fighting a human-trafficking organization would mean fighting other humans. I thought I was ready for that.
Yet, when it comes down to it, this is the result.
Pathetic.
There’s no excuse!
“Sir Hero…” Mr. Tiva kneels down to match my eye level. “Please know that there’s no need to push yourself so. That’s why you have all of us.”
I can tell from his words and demeanor that Mr. Tiva is truly worried about me.
But still…
“Or are we not reliable enough?”
“……”
Mr. Tiva looks right into my eyes, and I turn my head away.
I know that’s more than enough of an answer in itself, but there’s nothing else I can do right now.
Instead, I quickly move away and walk toward the carriage.
This time, Tiva doesn’t chase after me, but I hear him mutter something in a quiet yet forceful voice.
“…Cowardly!”
I don’t know who that was directed toward.
But I know he’s not saying it about me.
I can tell that much, yet it still feels as if he’s berating my weakness, and it’s almost too much to bear.
“Hey. Good work out there.”
As I return to the carriage, Hyrince greets me.
He’s holding several arrows, probably in the process of pulling them out of the carriage.
“Get in and sit down, okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
Hyrince opens the door, and I obediently go inside and take a seat.
Immediately, the exhaustion hits me all at once.
Physically, of course, but emotionally even more so.
I know I should always conduct myself like a royal and a hero, but I can’t help slumping into an unseemly posture.
Fortunately, there’s no one around to see but Hyrince.
Then I realize there should be one other person here.
“Where’s Yaana?”
“She’s healing the soldiers. Don’t worry about her—you can just rest.”
Before I can think that I should be working, too, Hyrince cuts me off.
“All right.”
I take him up on his offer and sink deep into the carriage seat.
THE SAINT AND THE EMPIRE VETERAN
“Yaana, why did they pick you?”
When I was chosen as the saint, that was the first thing one of my fellow saint candidates and close friends said to me.
I’d been elated about the unexpected offer, but those words brought down my mood right away.
Candidates for sainthood are trained from a young age.
Many girls withdraw before the end, unable to bear the severe training.
It’s a difficult life, but we keep at it in hopes of becoming the future saint, all so we can someday support the hero.
Naturally, being chosen as the saint is the ultimate honor for us.
Only one person can be chosen, of course.
And even then, a new saint can be chosen only when a new hero is born.
Customarily, the chosen candidate is one who’s close in age to the hero, so even the most exceptional candidate usually won’t be chosen if she’s not the right age.
The vast majority of candidates will never become saints.
But there’s no telling when a hero might pass on and a new saint might be needed, so new trainees are still initiated every year.
In order to have a tiny chance of becoming a saint.
And I was chosen for the role.
It was as if fortune had smiled on me.
Naturally, I was so thrilled and excited that I ran to tell my good friend.
She was older than I was but always treated me kindly, so I was sure she’d be happy for me.
But as soon as she spoke, I realized I was wrong.
“Ah—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that…”
She apologized right away, apparently regretting her choice of words.
But then she seemed to have nothing else to say. She just hung her head, turned around, and hurried away.
My friend was two years older than I was.
Sir Julius, the new hero, is the same age as I am.
If the candidate chosen has to be close to the hero’s age, surely she was qualified, too, being only two years apart.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t think of any reason I’d be chosen except for my age.
My aptitudes weren’t bad; they were above average certainly.
But there were other candidates who ranked better than I did, including my friend.
So although I’d always done my best, I didn’t think I’d ever be chosen as the saint.
Depending on their grades, an unselected candidate for sainthood can still get a good job.
If anything, that was what I was aiming for.
I dreamed of being the saint, of course, but I thought that realistically, there was no way I’d really become the saint.
So I didn’t fully understand the weight of taking on that role.
I didn’t realize that becoming the saint meant trampling on the hopes of all the others who weren’t chosen.
The girls who tried to be the saint and failed.
For their sakes, I have to carry on their hopes and become the best saint I can be.
So that no one will ask me “Why?” ever again.
Since I never really expected to become the saint, I’m sure there are other candidates who would scoff at me for making this resolution so late in the game.
But once I’ve made up my mind, I never go back on my word.
I have to become the kind of saint who those candidates can never find fault with.
Half of that is out of a sense of duty.
The other half…is fear.
Once the saint has been appointed, there are only three ways the title can pass on to someone new.
One is if the current hero, Sir Julius, passes away.
The other two ways are if I become unable to fulfill my role as the saint.
In other words, if I become unable to heal due to a serious illness or injury or if I die.
There are very few instances of a saint being assassinated by a candidate for sainthood.
We’re taught to be noble and virtuous during our training, so there are few who would ever think of doing such a thing.
But that doesn’t mean there are none at all.
I don’t want to believe that my former fellow candidates and friends would even consider doing something like that to me, but I know some of them are displeased.
After all, even my closest friend reacted that way.
“Urgh!”
“Lady Saint, please don’t force yourself.”
I try and fail to hold back the bile that rises unbidden in my throat at the scene before me.
And the stench.
Blood, guts, and the distinct smell of body odor. The bandits who lived outside the town must’ve had poor hygiene practices, for the natural stench of their bodies is horrible.
It wouldn’t be so bad if it was only the stench of blood—I’ve experienced that in the hands-on medical training I went through while being trained as a candidate for sainthood by the Church.
At first, the smell of blood bothered me, but I got used to it after experiencing it several times.
But that was from patients in a sanitary hospital ward, not victims on a real battlefield.
Here, there are other odors mixed in with the blood, along with dirt and dust of battle.
All of it combined assails me with nausea far worse than any I experienced in training.
“It’s all right. I can’t be faint of heart after Sir Hero fought so valiantly.”
Gently rejecting the soldier who tried to guide me back to the carriage, I request instead that he lead me to the wounded to begin treating them.
Once I start healing, I’m able to focus on that alone, instead of being affected by my surroundings.
For better or worse, I’ve yet to be called on to do anything, since the anti-human-trafficking force was first formed.
There are proper doctors and healers in the party, and things have been going almost too smoothly thus far, so I haven’t been brought out to heal.
Even this time, nobody asked for my help.
But after seeing Sir Hero take it upon himself to dive into the fray, I can’t just sit on the sidelines doing nothing.
“Next!”
“Lady Saint, the majority of the wounded have already been healed.”
Indeed, I look around and notice that there aren’t any more soldiers with serious wounds.
“What about the captured criminals, then?”
The only victims gathered here are the soldiers, so the captives must be someplace else.
They fought against Sir Hero and company, so surely, they’re gravely wounded as well.
“…Most of the criminals have breathed their last. No healing will be necessary.”
“I…I see.”
From the soldier’s hesitation, I can tell that most of the criminals must have met a gruesome end.
“It would have been better if only Sir Hero had captured some of them alive for us…”
The soldier seems to assume that I’m grieving for the dead criminals, and he murmurs something that sounds like a criticism of Sir Hero.
“No, that’s not true.”
…To be honest, I was afraid to see Sir Hero fighting.
My private impression of him is an incredibly kind boy of the same age as me.
He’s always smiling amiably and seems so warm that one might wonder if he could even hurt a fly. I confess, though it’s disrespectful, that I doubted whether he could really fight.
But he has a strong sense of duty, and watching him work hard to earn the respect of the adults only deepened my fondness for him.
He’s struggling with a weighty role, just like me, I thought.
But I was wrong.
It’s more than his position or sense of duty that makes Sir Hero work hard: It’s his strong desire for justice.
“Sir Hero didn’t have time to worry about such things. If he let them get away, they would have scattered to other areas, and we would’ve lost the chance to take them all out at once. And then they would have continued to commit terrible crimes in other places, even if only on a smaller scale. Sir Hero realized this and decided that they had to be wiped out before that could happen, even if it meant doing the deed himself.”
In battle, Sir Hero fought with a bloodcurdling intensity that was a far cry from his usual kind self.
His downright merciless fighting style showed how determined he was to stop the criminals at all costs.
“What? No, no…surely, Sir Hero didn’t think about all that?”
“It looked that way to me.”
“But even if some got away, the harm done would be negligible…”
“Would you still say the same if the victims were your own family?”
At that last comment, the soldier’s excuses fall away.
“Admittedly, the people who live in this area are strangers to us for the most part. But Sir Hero pushed himself beyond his limits to protect those very same strangers.”
While I was healing the wounded, I overheard soldiers who were displeased that Sir Hero had taken matters into his own hands.
They said he was being reckless because he wanted more accomplishments to his name.
That he has no sense of teamwork because he’s a child.
That because the person they’re supposed to be protecting charged into battle, they were forced to charge into battle as well, and so on.
It’s true that acting on his own wasn’t exactly commendable.
But he was motivated by a desire to protect the people, a sense of justice deeper than anyone knows.
“Exactly.”
Turning around, I see the deputy high commander Sir Tiva walking over to us.
His voice, far more strained and emotional than usual, takes me by surprise.
“Sir Tiva, your hand is bleeding!”
Noticing blood dripping from his tightly clenched fist, I rush over to heal him, but he holds me off.
“It’s all right. I must not heal this wound, as a reminder to myself.”
Sir Tiva opens his hand and gazes at the wound, then clenches it shut again.
“I am ashamed of my cowardliness,” he says quietly. “Forcing Sir Hero to push himself this far… I am a failure as his deputy.”
“…Sir Hero is a child. Is it not a child’s job to push past their limits?”
One of the soldiers, probably a commander based on his attire, attempts to comfort Mr. Tiva but is met with a shout of rage.
“And what does that make us, if even a child doesn’t think he can rely on us?! Sir Hero was forced into action because we were too craven!”
The commander’s attempt to soothe Mr. Tiva instead sets off an explosion he was holding back.
“I thought we could let Sir Hero grow up at his own pace, that he would slowly close the distance between himself and the troops. But it seems we are the ones who still have growing to do.”
The commander looks away as Tiva continues.
“We’ve forgotten why this force exists in the first place. Our goal is to protect as many innocent victims from this organization as we can! Sir Hero understood that better than any of us. We’ve all been utter fools!”
Mr. Tiva’s voice echoes around the vicinity.
I’m sure the rest of the soldiers heard him, too.
I don’t think things will change right away.
But I have the feeling this might be the start of something new.
“Hey, welcome back.”
When I return to the carriage, Sir Hero’s attendant, Hyrince, waves to me.
He’s rather rude, so I admit I’m not very fond of him.
“Where’s Sir Hero?”
Hyrince points silently into the carriage.
Peering through the window, I see Sir Hero fast asleep in his seat.
In this moment, he looks like nothing more than an innocent young boy.
But this is the hero, the one and only savior chosen by the gods.
“Julius really worked hard today, so he’s exhausted. Let the guy sleep for now, will ya?”
“Not this again. I know you are Sir Hero’s childhood friend, but you must refer to him with more respect!”
Sir Hero is worthy of the utmost respect.
I realized that all over again today.
And yet, this insolent boy takes him far too lightly!
“I dunno. If anything, maybe you should stop calling him ‘Sir Hero,’ yeah?”
“What are you talking about? Enough with your jokes.”
I scoff at Hyrince.
How can he spout such foolishness?
“I wasn’t really joking, though. You guys are gonna be together forever, right? Not in the marriage sense, though.”
“F-f-f-forever?! M-m-m-m-marriage?!”
Now that he mentions it…!
Sir Hero and…me?
As I picture the two of us close to each other, my face flushes red.
Since I was raised among women at the sainthood candidate training school, I’m not used to that sort of thing.
“…I literally said it wouldn’t be like that, but whatever.” Hyrince sighs for some reason. “It is true that the hero and saint keep their roles their whole lives. You’ll be together until one of you dies.”
As I huff at him, Hyrince responds in an unexpectedly serious tone.
“Do you plan on staying so formal with him forever?”
“Well…”
Now that he’s pointed it out, I realize that maybe I have been overly distant toward the hero.
“I’m not saying you have to be best buddies or try to force a super-close relationship or anything. I just think you might want to reconsider calling him ‘Sir Hero’ and stuff. Makes it seem like there’s a wall between you.”
“A wall…”
I was merely trying to express my respect by calling him “Sir Hero.” But is that how he feels about our relationship as well?
“Well, I’m not gonna force ya. But if it were me, I wouldn’t call him by his title at all. Makes it seem like you’re not seeing the real Julius, just his title.”
“The real…him…”
Am I truly seeing the real Sir Hero…no, Sir Julius?
Or have I been seeing him through the lens of his title?
Suddenly, I’m not sure.
“As much as it irks me to take your advice…I’ll think about it.”
“Sounds good.”
Normally, Hyrince would be sure to tease me over this, but this time, he smiles as gently and warmly as Sir Julius.
We had our school entrance ceremony.
That’s it.
What?
You want to hear more?
Sure, we had to introduce ourselves to the other kids in our class afterward and all that, but why would I remember the names and faces of those nobodies?
Well, I suppose there were a few people who stood out to me.
Like the Goody Two-shoes boy who’s definitely a jerk deep down.
And the idiotically serious class rep–type girl.
And a couple of snot-nosed brats who I guess might grow up to be beauties someday.
Basically, nobody who was worth my time.
Huh?
You think I can’t make any friends?
That’s none of your business! As if I want to do that anyway!
JULIUS, AGE 12: SHOWDOWN
Part 2 of 8