〈 Chapter 358 〉 Disaster, and the Hero (1)

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Everyone walks their own path.

They live their lives in their own way.

They move forward with dreams as their signs.

Dreams, the person they want to be.

Some dreamed of becoming heroes. Others dreamed of becoming actors. Some wanted to be writers penning fairy tales. Some, some, and yet others…

…Dreams, dreams, the figures they long to be.

“Raniel, what do you want to become?”

One day, my father asked me that.

“What? You think I want to be a librarian like you?”

Back then, I answered yes, simply because I had no particular dreams. I liked reading books, so I replied to his question without any deep thoughts.

“Ah, come on, Raniel.”

“Being a librarian isn’t as fun as you think. Don’t you want a bigger dream? I’m not saying this just because you’re my son, but you actually have talent, you know? The book you’re reading right now, I barely understand it myself, Raniel.”

“But you understand it. You even say it’s fun. How about going to the capital instead of staying in this little town to showcase your talent?”

“Um, I just like reading books? So, I want to be a librarian…”

My response made my father smile sadly.

“Yeah, you’re still young. Think about it a little more. I’ll help you find it. We have plenty of time.”

Contrary to my father’s thoughts, time was not abundant.

The next day, the village was burned to ashes.

My father’s cherished books, the hometown people, my mother who shouted at me to run away until the very end, and my father who promised to help me find my dreams—all turned to ash.

In that moment, I lost my dreams.

I lost my signs.

I no longer knew where to go.

I merely thought that if I walked forward aimlessly, perhaps I would find my dreams along the way. Because that’s what my father had said in his last moments.

But.

“…Raniel.”

On that day, I was not the only one who lost their dreams.

“Raniel, what are we supposed to do now?”

I looked beside me.

There was Kyle, grinding his teeth among the ashes. He had said he wanted to become a hero. Gritting his teeth, Kyle was swallowing his tears.

“My parents, the townsfolk, everyone… What am I supposed to do now…?”

Still, he dreamed of being a hero.

He wanted revenge on something.

But Kyle was always the type to think about only one thing at a time. I exhaled sharply and reached out my hand to him. The kid who had been sitting in the ashes looked up at me.

I smiled bitterly and said to him.

“First, let’s go to the capital.”

…I had lost my dreams, but.

“If we go there, surely there will be something we can do.”

You’re still dreaming.

You’re still trying to become something.

“Follow me.”

So for now, I’ll take the lead.

2.

Walking forward, I reflected on the past.

I recalled the path I had walked, the people who had once walked it with me. Remembering and remembering, I shifted my steps forward.

Kyle Toven, that damn kid.

He really was a troublesome brat.

He stumbled often, fell often, and got frustrated often. Sometimes, it annoyed me. He would sit down and whine about anything.

“Is the capital always like this, Raniel?”

“I can’t become anything here.”

“Didn’t you say if we came here, we could do something? Weren’t we supposed to be able to become something?”

I don’t know, how would I know?

Such words nearly rose to my throat, but I didn’t say them. I understood his feelings. We had succeeded in coming to the capital, but we had become nothing. The world was not so kind to two little kids fleeing from a burned village.

In the end, all we had was each other.

I felt like we had shared so many stories back then.

Leaning against an alleyway.

Kyle sat down.

We talked.

Kyle complained and I listened. Sometimes I laughed, sometimes I nodded. In the narrow, filthy alley, Kyle talked about his dreams. He boisterously declared what he wanted to become.

At that time, Kyle looked happy.

Yeah, you’re still dreaming.

I reached out my hand to Kyle with a smile. Let’s survive somehow today. Let’s live just a little harder than yesterday. To become something.

Grabbing my outstretched hand, Kyle stood up.

So we moved forward.

Of course, our directions didn’t always align. We lived our own lives in our own ways.

I was taken in by my Master and walked the path of a Mage.

Kyle became a noble’s errand boy, managing to get by one day at a time with menial tasks.

When we had endured a truly tough day or went through a frustrating experience, we would sometimes meet at an old tavern and chatter away. Complaining about the day’s events while giggling.

“Those damn idiots discriminate based on origins, really, ugh. Can you believe this, Kyle?”

“Raniel, you too? I wanted to throw a rag in that noble brat’s face when he insulted my hometown. What do they see people as, anyway?”

Trivial chatter.

Gossip aimed at worthless punks.

Laughing out loud while sharing those trivial stories, we would bicker over who would pay the tab. Whenever Kyle stubbornly insisted he’d pay, I would come up with various excuses to cover it.

Thus, we lived our own lives.

Then one day, Kyle became a hero.

He came to me, saying he had finally fulfilled his dream. He reached out to me, inviting me to join him. Once, it was I who reached out my hand to him, but this time he extended it to me.

Crazy bastard, you’re going to take on the Demon Lord?

He said he would achieve great deeds.

He proposed an outrageous idea, throwing around nonsensical dreams. That day, I pondered. After much thought, I finally took his hand. I followed him to the battlefield under the pretense of being deceived.

Many things happened.

Really, a lot.

The battlefield was far heavier than we had imagined. It was far more hellish. The battlefield was hell, and it didn’t take long for a single human to break down in that hell.

“We have to.”

“You’re the Hero, and I’m the Wise One.”

“Everyone is risking their lives for us. So we must. Running away is out of the question. Fight with the intent to die.”

I became obsessed.

Bound by sacrifice, duty, and responsibility.

“I can’t, I can’t do it.”

“I’m scared. I’m scared too, Raniel!”

“What the hell is that? How do you expect me to face such numbers?”

Kyle was worn out in the fight with no answers.

He realized that he was nothing and that everything he dreamed of was far too absurd.

“Still, damn it, we have to go.”

“You can do it.”

“Leave the back to me and just run forward.”

Even then, there was still some leeway.

I reached my hand out to him every time he fell. I lifted him time and again. We moved forward little by little like that.

We accomplished many things.

Kyle began to be called the strongest hero.

“We hunted the Black Dragon!”

“The infamous disaster…!”

“How on earth did you bind the Black Dragon’s foot? You’re really, you’re something else, Raniel!”

We achieved the feat of slaying the Black Dragon.

With effort, it felt like we could accomplish anything.

“I can become something too.”

“I can be special too.”

We wobbled but kept moving forward.

On the path I took, there was Kyle. He sometimes stood by my side, sometimes lagged behind, but… he would stand up again and follow me.

Slowly, but it seemed we could go far.

I thought we could achieve our dreams someday.

I thought we could keep doing it indefinitely.

But that was an illusion.

We faced an enemy we felt we could never defeat. A foe with no answers. A terrifyingly strong opponent. A monster that threatened death just by being in its presence. That monster stood in our way.

Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade.

From the day we faced it, Kyle began to break down. He stumbled often, got frustrated often. Sometimes he even dropped his sword. He started to ignore his duties.

I reached out my hand a few times.

But I couldn’t keep doing that.

“I can’t.”

“I can’t do it.”

After facing the Demon Lord, Kyle completely broke down. At the end of his breakdown, Kyle could no longer stand up. The moment I saw him like that, I could no longer reach out. I was angry. I was annoyed.

Clutching the hand I meant to offer him.

I grabbed him by the collar.

Forcefully pulling him up.

“Stand up.”

“Stand up, damn it.”

I shouted for him to stand, pushing Kyle with my duties. Naturally, it was the worst way to go about it. That day, the path Kyle and I walked completely diverged.

“I’m not you.”

“I can’t do it, Raniel.”

I was dumbfounded. I felt suffocated.

That’s not it. That’s not what you should be saying. What did you think of me? Don’t you realize what you meant by that?

I had many words I wanted to say.

So many, but I couldn’t.

When I finally got the chance to say those words, it was already far too late. Now that I could reach out to talk once more…

There was no Kyle there.

What I grabbed was empty air. At that moment, I realized it was far too late. All that remained was regret. Walking amid that regret, I took steps.

When I looked back, you weren’t there anymore.

Our paths had completely crossed. I thought we stood on the same road, but at some point, you were nowhere to be seen. This road had only me.

I thought it couldn’t be helped.

I thought I couldn’t correct the bent version of you, so I averted my gaze. I turned away and walked forward. I thought I could walk alone even if no one followed. No, I thought I had to walk alone. Because that was the duty given to me.

I walked the path.

I lived my life.

While walking, I realized a few things.

Everyone has their own path.

You’re walking your path in your own way too.

Through Galahal’s death, I finally came to understand you a little. Having understood, I wanted to talk again.

Like we used to.

Like the truly joyful old days.

But…

“It’s too late now.”

I always end up too late.

It’s strange.

I’m only late during decisive moments. I should have acted immediately after regretting, so why didn’t I move? I regret it all over again.

“I owe you a debt.”

“I must repay that debt without fail.”

Without giving me a chance to stop you, without letting me stand by your side, without giving me a moment to follow, you moved forward of your own accord. And where you moved was conveniently right in front of me.

I thought we had diverged.

In the end, it turned out we were looking at the same scenery.

In your own way, on your own path, you crossed over me and moved forward. And at the end of the path, you looked back at me, as if beckoning me to follow.

“Seriously.”

You’re asking me to follow after walking alone all my life, staring at the empty ahead.

“Damn it.”

Now, it’s completely the opposite.

Thud.

Smiling bitterly, I took a step forward.

Before I knew it, I had reached my destination.

Looking up, I saw the firmly closed door of the church. The dilapidated church. Beyond this door, something stirred.

I had circled around and returned to the starting point.

Unlike back then, when I was asleep and could do nothing, I was awake now. I stood solidly on the ground with both feet. As if the world was giving me a chance to make up for that day’s mistake.

To seize that chance.

To move forward now.

I reached my hand towards the church’s door.

Reaching out, I pushed open the church door.

After many memories flitted by, I found myself in the present. Creeeak, with a squeak, the church door opened. A chilling air streamed in.

What lay beyond the door was a ruined church.

Collapsed and broken pillars.

The star, which should be adorned on the church’s ceiling, was entangled in chains, dragged down. The statue symbolizing the God had its head blown off and lay tilted.

Ruined. Defiled.

Things that could no longer express their original purpose or fulfill their roles.

Beyond such things was it.

It was sitting at the very back of the church, on the broken altar. Founded deep in the heart of the one entwined in chains was the Holy Sword.

Thud, as I took a step closer.

It flinched, and its body moved.

Its twisted and grotesquely bent arm slowly began to move. Watching that sight, I approached it further, reaching my hand behind my back.

I tied up the hair that had come undone at some point.

Stepping forward once more, it too grasped the hilt of the sword. The Holy Sword stuck deep into its heart. Though the decoration was broken, the blade itself was still intact.

Squeak, creak. Something was twisting around.

Narrowing my eyes, I looked ahead, and the hand emerged from its heart.

What had been blocked by the Holy Sword was pouring out with the drawn sword.

A hand, a collection of curses.

The shade meant to curse and drag down the star clutched the sword along with Kyle. It grasped the twisted arm of Kyle and held it up.

Clench.

Watching that, I pulled off my gloves.

To seize what I had failed to grasp that day.

To grab the collar of the guy who was about to take a wrong turn and throw him to the ground. And to ensure I regretted nothing again.

Clenching, I tightened my grip.

Pop, Kyle’s hand, which had held the Holy Sword, now fully drew out from his heart. Drops of blood clung to the blade, splashing up.

Just before that drop of blood fell to the ground.

I kicked off the ground and ran.

Kyle, too, sprang from the altar and charged.

We both ran with all our might to kill each other.

The air trembled. Everything visible crumbled.

What remained was just the enemy we had to kill.

Here I go, Kyle.

You damn bastard.

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