I Became the Hero Who Banished the Protagonist

Snowflakes landed on the bridge of people’s noses as they cleared the battlefield. The snow came out of nowhere, and the people were confused. It was falling fast from the dark void that covered the sun.

“…What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

The people stopped cleaning the wreckage and corpses to look up at the sky. The source of the snow was unknown. They could only vaguely surmise it was concerning the black crack above.

“What’s happening? There’s snow all of a sudden. It’s scaring me.”

“But doesn’t it seem alright?”

They couldn’t deny those words. The darkness was deep, but the snow was not ominous. In the sunlight, their eyes saw many colors. Prisms scattered and spread the light, and the snow on the ground slowly piled up.

People watched in wonder. Even though they knew it would hinder their efforts to clear the rubble, they let it accumulate. They seemed to think that what was happening now was a post-war daydream that everyone in the Capital had simultaneously.

“What a strange thing to happen. Snow in the middle of summer.”

“I know.”

Snow piled up over the rubble and bodies.

“It’s snowing.”

“It can’t be a bad thing. It only started after the Meteor disappeared.”

In front of the south gate, Agnes stood under the falling snow. Quenor stood a step behind her, the wind fluttering the hem of his black robes.

“What the hell are you doing here without medical attention?”

Agnes squinted at him. Beneath the bandages, Quenor’s skin was tattered from the three wounds the Lion had left. The bleeding had stopped, but that’s not to say he didn’t need medical attention. But despite the depth of his wounds, the Archduke just walked out of the hospital. With only the most basic first aid, Quenor only rested for two days.

“I’ll live, but the other wounded will die if they don’t receive help now. Pain is bearable, but death is not something you can avoid by gritting your teeth.”

“It is your choice, and I will say nothing unless you die.”

Agnes examined her body. She had plenty of shallow wounds. She also had a fractured rib and a hole deep cut from when she was stabbed. Agnes categorized the pains and counted them.

“It’s a shame I’m unscathed from the battle.”

“You’re lucky that your body is unharmed.”

If it meant protecting the Queen’s body, the Archduke had no qualms with taking more pain. Agnes did not show the embarrassment she felt.

“Someone who was supposed to be supporting a country was being supported by someone else.”

“That’s just our nature. Don’t be ashamed to rely on people to get you through.”

Agnes laughed bitterly. She wasn’t ashamed of relying on people. It was just a sinful feeling. She would gladly take the blame if the Hero failed to save them, but he would never. The Queen felt both relieved and sad for him.

“All right, I’ll take it to heart. Though I never thought you’d grow a heart.”

“I always had one, Your Majesty.”

They both didn’t continue the topic. They knew the conversation between a ruler and their subject should never become personal. Agnes stopped venting her frustration and looked up at the sky. The black cracks were still sprinkling snow.

“There’s no way we’ll ever know what happened to the Meteor, and I’m tired of waiting around.”

“We have no choice but to wait for the wizards to report.”

“I suppose so.”

Agnes sighed and turned away. As she returned to the castle, a person appeared out of nowhere and stood before them. Quenor and Agnes blinked at the sight of ash-colored hair lightly dusted with snow.

“I, Hero Elroy, have returned from defeating the Meteor.”

As the words moved, they realized it wasn’t just talk. Agnes frowned and stared at Elroy. He had appeared and reported an impossible feat so casually.

“How long must you continue to surprise me?”

“I apologize. I’m glad you’re safe.”

Elroy bowed his head deeply. Agnes sauntered toward him. Even with his head bowed, Agnes had to glance up at him. His ash-colored hair cascaded down like silk. Still staring at him, she reached out a hand.

“Your Majesty-”

“Be still.”

Agnes’ hand stroked Elroy’s hair. His body jerked back like a frightened dog, then flinched. She didn’t care about her dignity. Right now, she just wanted him to be still so she could continue.

“You’ve saved the world again.”

“It’s thanks to everyone’s effort, Your Majesty. I couldn’t have done it alone.”

“All we did was defend a patch of land and a flag while you were defending the world. Isn’t that a fair observation?”

Agnes smiled. Elroy still hadn’t looked up. She moved her hand down to Elroy’s chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

“Thank you.”

“…I don’t know what to do with myself.”

She smirked and waved her hand. At the unspoken congratulation, Elroy bowed and turned away. Quenor greeted the Hero with a weary smile.

“The debt is paid, Elroy. The warriors of the North remember you, every last one of them, but….”

Quenor glanced down at his palm, which was dripping with snowflakes.

“You’ve put me in it again. At this rate, I’ll never be able to pay you for it.”

“Do not think of it as a debt, for I did not act with that intention.”

“You’re making it hard for me to save my pride.”

Quenor said with a bitter laugh. Elroy shook his head, unwilling to be offended.

“Thank you for your patience, Archduke. I’ve already received enough.”

“Well, you may think you have, but I don’t think I’m done repaying you yet.”

The Archduke turned to the Hero. Quenor tried to sneak a glance at Elroy’s level, but he was already far beyond anything he could imagine. Beyond the limit, above the mountains, in a much higher place. Elroy watched, unmoved, unshakeable.

“Archduke, you should take care of yourself first.”

Quenor smirked and stepped back. The Elroy who had slain the Giant was a wounded mess, but the Elroy of today was a mythical hero, an idol of the people. The Archduke was a man, but the Hero now exuded an aura that Quenor could hardly call human.

“Don’t go too far, Elroy. Give me time to catch up. How about giving this old man a few lessons?”

Elroy smirked, knowing full well that it would be impolite to be declined.

“When you fully recover, I’ll travel north, and we can fight again.”

“Good, I didn’t want to return here.”

Quenor laughed jokingly. Agnes listened intently to the conversation. Elroy turned and walked away. He didn’t leave his footprints in the snow.

***

“How are you feeling?”

Georg opened his eyes wide and looked at me. He was lying in bed looking pretty funny. His left arm, which held the shield, was in a splint and bandages. He had a couple of broken ribs and too many cuts to count. There are probably countless microfractures that I can’t see. ‘Poor bastard. He looked like a dragon at the front of the line.’

“It hurts all over, but it’s all worth it. At least we won.”

“You realize that in most stories, if you meet your fiancée before the war, you’ll die in it, right? She’s a very lucky woman.”

“I’ve never heard that story before.”

I smiled at Georg, who sounded distant and curious. He wasn’t in critical condition and didn’t receive much help. He turned to look at me. I took in his gaze and frowned.

“Gross.”

“I didn’t even…Good work, Elroy.”

He didn’t seem to have anything else to say. I had nothing better to say, so I pushed myself up from my seat. Before I could walk out, Georg spoke to me hesitantly.

“You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?”

“If I were, I wouldn’t be walking around like this. I doubt I would even be allowed out of bed.”

Silence and an exchange of glances. Georg tried to read me, but I kept my expression blank.

“Yeah. It’s probably not something you want to hear. Sounds like a nightmare.”

Georg muttered and straightened his pillow.

“I’m going to sleep. I’m groggy from the drugs.”

His eyes immediately closed, and I could hear his scratchy breathing. I left Georg’s room and entered the next. The Hero Party’s headquarters was being used as a makeshift hospital. The stench of disinfectant wafted through the halls as every room but mine had been converted to house patients. I turned the familiar corridor and descended the stairs, arriving in front of a room.

Before I could knock, the door swung open.

“…Hi.”

Marianne and Daphne were sitting on the bed, staring at me. Marianne was in a state not unlike Georg’s, and Daphne was nursing her, their faces close together as if they were sharing a secret.

“Come in and sit down.”

Daphne beckoned. With a shaky smile, I stepped into the room. Sparse furniture was filled with Daphne’s belongings.

“How are you feeling? Are you getting better?”

“Yes. Not bad. Lots of minor injuries, but nothing major.”

As if sensing my scrutinizing gaze, Marianne rubbed the bandage on her head.

“It’s not a big cut, just a little tear.”

I didn’t believe her when she said it was a smile. But seeing her desperately trying to hide the wound, I decided not to look at the bandage for old time’s sake. Her silver bangs were cut short and fluttered adorably.

“How are you, Daphne?”

“I’m feeling much better, but what are you doing? You’ve been gone all night again, wandering around and not showing your face.”

I didn’t answer. I did not need to talk about using my wings to fly across the continent to check on the damage.

“I’ve been walking around.”

Perhaps it was because most of the monsters were concentrated in the Capital, but the rest of the continent wasn’t as severely affected. The eastern and western parts could hold off the waves without much difficulty. I didn’t even need to check the north. After nightfall, I would travel to the heavily damaged areas to see if anyone needed help.

“…Someone skilled fought here?”

And, most of all, I worried about Bactins. With the town still not fully restored, I wondered if it could have withstood a monster attack, but the coastal city was not as badly damaged as I thought.

Apparently, a nameless mercenary came and single-handedly defended the city.

“…If you’re going to make excuses, at least try making it believable.”

Daphne replied. I didn’t care if she resented me. I pulled up a chair and sat down. We stared at each other wordlessly for a while.

“We somehow defeated the Sixth Disaster.”

Snow piled up on the window sill. I stared at the flakes and nodded.

“One last left.”

I frowned as I went down memory lane.

The Seventh Disaster.

Come to think of it, how did the original end…?

A knock on the door interrupted my rumination. Daphne waved her hand wordlessly, and the door opened to reveal a welcome visitor.

“Does anyone need medical attention?”

Iris glanced around the room, then fixed her gaze on me. I couldn’t help but frown at how the Saintess’ eyes scrutinized me.