I Became the Hero Who Banished the Protagonist

As Daphne peered anxiously out the window, she heard a sleepy murmur across the room. The corners of Nella’s eyes were sunken, casting dark shadows. The stack of papers in her hand was evidence of a long night. Intricate formulas and magic circles were drawn on them, and they were as pale as Nella’s face. That is what they have after three sleepless nights.

“…If I make the slightest mistake, it’s all gone to shit. That means no sleep…”

A few papers fell to the ground, but Nella didn’t even look at them. She knew she’d have to pick them up later but couldn’t be bothered now.

“How can you make a ridiculously large formation with even more ridiculously precise calculations and a minimal supply of magic? We only got one shot at it.”

Nella nervously put down the papers and picked up her mug. She looked at her reflection in the coffee and grimaced.

“We don’t even get a chance to practice. It takes at least three days just to prepare the spell. In the meantime….”

Nella gulped down her coffee. The bitter flavor slid over her tongue and down her esophagus. She let out a long, satisfied sigh and continued.

“Why is it so annoying? Why does it want to mess everything up just before it arrives.”

“They’re just bent on destroying humanity.”

Contrary to Nella’s disgruntled tone, Daphne was sullen. Nella could see now that she was trying to hide her true feelings.

“Don’t you think we should wake Elroy sooner rather than later? Waiting until the last minute could cause more damage than we can afford. We don’t know when the monsters will strike and aren’t even prepared for the Disaster.”

Nella tried hard to convince Daphne, but she shook her head as usual.

“There are no problems right now.”

“That was your answer last time.”

“Good, because it’ll be the answer again, and if you remember that, you won’t have to ask the same question.”

As she spoke, Daphne stared out the window. The sun was shining, and fewer people were on the street than usual. The steps of the guards patrolling the streets were stiff.

“…I wonder why it’s so deserted…not even adventurers.”

Nella murmured beside Daphne as they stared out the window together. Daphne nodded, mesmerized by the thought. Access to the Capital was beginning to be strictly controlled except for a few. Realizing that the monster’s behavior was becoming strange, the adventurers grumbled but accepted it.

Those overconfident ventured out, blinded by their greed. Most bodies are never recovered. The deaths of the adventurers who broke the rules were never confirmed, and they were forever labeled as missing on a search order that may never see the light of day.

“…They say they’re banned from all but the regular once-a-week drop-offs. I can imagine there will be a lot of backlash from the adventurers because their jobs are suddenly gone.”

These are people who live from day to day. The adventurers, who now had to worry about putting food on the table tomorrow, reacted violently to the decree. Some simply slipped into the back alleys, while others were arrested by the guards and disappeared for openly committing crimes.

“Even though many of the escorts for the regular convoys are adventurers, they only send out the competent ones. They say they’re recruiting adventurers to form a temporary garrison, but I’m not sure how much they will take on now.”

“Unsettling, in more ways than one.”

A shout came from the alley. It was a familiar sound these days. Nella turned her eyes toward the sound. Either someone had been caught stealing, or a fight had broken out between two overzealous adventurers.

“Some are taking to the streets now and then, crying it’s the end of days. They’re growing uneasy because of the Hero’s disappearance.”

Of course, the people calling for the apocalypse would vanish the next day. Rumors abounded of men in black outfits appearing out of nowhere and dragging them away.

“Thankfully, it seems even the Inquisitors are at work. Who knew there were so many doomsday cultists hiding in the kingdom?”

The presence of a looming Disaster and the absence of the Hero drew out the Doomsday Cult and heretics being rounded up now. There was no way Elroy would have gone into hiding with such intent. Nella scratched her fingernails at the goosebumps slowly rising from her arms.

“Georg and Marianne haven’t been back in days.”

“That’s because they’ve been putting all their energy into shoring our defenses.”

An awkward silence followed. Having finished their small talk, the two women casually picked up their papers. Scribbling new formulas over old ones was the only sound to fill the space.

“What happens once we’ve isolated the Disaster with the main circle? Well, as long as it holds, the Meteor won’t suddenly crash into the ground, but we’ll need to kill ten Third Circle wizards daily to keep it active.”

Nella spread out her fingers. Of course, magic takes far less energy to maintain than to cast, but with the sheer scale of the circle, it’s something they have to account for.

“Maybe we can destroy the Meteor after we isolate it.”

“I suppose we could grind it into powder…but if we could, we wouldn’t do this in the first place; we’d just shoot it down.”

Nella snorted, and Daphne sighed as if she knew it was coming.

“How about Laura? You could have someone with the mana output of a Tower Master attached to the crystal, supplying it all day long. It runs the risk of accidentally not having a backup if an accident happens, and we all go boom. At least we’re not draining the life out of people.”

“We’d be slaves to the system, but that’s better than the world ending.”

Daphne thought for a moment.

“…I suppose that is a possibility.”

Nella frowned and turned to face Daphne. Her violet eyes burned with determination. Nella studied her face carefully, then put down her pen.

“Are you sure you don’t want to….”

Just then, the door to the lab burst open with a loud crash. Their heads turned simultaneously, and a sweaty soldier breathed heavily in the doorway.

“We’ve got a big problem, and I need you both to come to the city walls.”

Daphne and Nella exchanged glances, and the two wizards rose from their seats.

***

Sometimes my imagination led me to a terrible yet unfamiliar sight. I could see the sky and the ground plastered white with snow. I stood in a collapsed city, the walls in the distance falling. Strewn about were the bodies of humans and monsters.

“….”

The landscape blended with itself but not entirely disappearing. When I first saw it, I almost forced myself awake. I glimpsed through the rubble; familiar faces kept grabbing my attention to stop me. Come back, their voices begged. We need you, they cried. I resisted the temptation to return.

“I believe in you.”

So, I had to believe. That they would be fine without me. That they wouldn’t make the same mistake as with the Mist. That even if everything is going wrong, they could solve it.

“And I will live up to your faith.”

I wasn’t trying to erase it, but I needed to swing the sword again, using the delusion as my driving force. My body writhed in disgust. I felt the blade through the flesh of my torn and worn palm. I did not deny the pain in my body, my thoughts and insights growing with it.

I swung the sword.

The world scattered for a moment then gathered again. I continued swinging with a steady pace and rhythm. Each strike carried a different thought. A strike with a proper thought process was much better than ten thousand strikes. Ten thousand mindless swings were ten thousand repetitions of an arm exercise.

Habits.

As I swung my sword, I began to pick apart and reorganize the habits Elroy ingrained in the body. The lack of power in my stepping foot, the timing of my shoulders opening and closing. The coordination and unity between body and sword. The wrist tension when I held the hilt. The possibilities of movement and the flexibility of the body. And yet, when the blade moves, it follows an unchanging trajectory.

“…Again.”

I adjusted. It’s challenging to learn from the ground up. I changed my stance to what I believe is right. I swung my sword until I was comfortable with my new form. I modified, reflected, and repeated until my body was no longer an obstacle to my sword’s single-minded purpose. Until I could feel only the sword’s movement in a single strike. I swung the blade.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

When my body reached its limit, I plunged the sword into the ground. My shoulder joint probably gave out. That was the signal, and the mental space healed my physical body. While the load dissipated, my thoughts didn’t stop, thinking of how to cut the Meteor.

“…?”

Suddenly, my gaze landed on the sword stuck in the ground. After staring at it awhile, I drew it out as if mesmerized and pointed it at the air again.

“…So that was a process, too.”

I laughed weakly. Something about it made everything I’d been doing seem silly. I remembered the sensation I’d felt on the Holy Sword. Something so pure, so simple, and yet so eerie. I brought my hand to the blade. My fingertips met the tip and cut. Blood trickled down its edge, and I muttered to myself as I looked at the crimson droplets.

“It’s the same whether I cut a dummy or a star.”

I grabbed the sword. My bloodied hand gripped the hilt, and I raised it. I didn’t feel the sword’s weight in my hand, and I turned to face behind me for the first time in a very long time.

The dummy stood there, waiting for me.