Chapter 29

Name:This World Needs a Hero Author:
Chapter 29

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When I came to my senses, I found myself standing in the ruins where the scorching sun was beating down.

Broken wooden planks and piles of stones were scattered all around.

I could feel the warmth of the sun and the uneven texture of the ground.

“So, this is how they allow you to experience memories.”

It felt like dreaming.

Moving my body according to my will was impossible, but I shared the sensations with the ‘Young Hero’ in my memories.

The senses were vivid as if I were there.

‘The Boyhood of the Hero....’

By the way, where is this place?

The hometown of the Hero?

Just as I was adjusting to the lowered perspective and trying to survey the surroundings for a moment....

Thud!

The Hero started walking.

His figure was faintly reflected on the ground, accompanied by the iron sword lying down.

Although his face is still visible, it is anything but ordinary.

‘Around ten years old.’

The skinny body caught my eye first.

The curiosity and liveliness of childhood were evident, hidden beneath a tough expression.

The Hero continued walking in the same direction as if he had a destination in mind.

Like a doll in a toy shop, he moved silently, without any change in expression.

“....”

So thirsty, it felt like my throat was burning.

The warmth between the calloused skin.

The sensation of stones between the toenails.

Above all, the most unbearable thing was the stench.

‘Truly a field of corpses.’

The corpses that began to appear one by one soon became numerous enough to step on.

The blood and excrement flowing from them, now congealed, were disturbing the path.

‘Just an ordinary rural village, what could have happened here?’

It wasn’t the result of a human army invasion.

There were no traces of military horses, only deformed footprints were distinct.

Decisively...

‘Not a single intact corpse. Must be demons.’

Torn and mutilated corpses were scattered everywhere like grotesque sculptures.

Thud!

The Hero stopped in the middle of the village.

Then, he began to drag and move the corpses one by one.

Every time the boy touched them, swarms of flies that had clung to them buzzed away.

‘...A grim task.’

It was midsummer.

The limp bodies and their smells.

Even someone like me, who boasted of being accustomed to various calamities, wanted to turn away.

But the young Hero didn’t stop.

Even when he stumbled and fell over a stone, or his fingers were torn, he continued to move the grotesque bodies.

...It was an extraordinary mental strength.

The destination was a large pit on the outskirts of the village.

Broken shovels were scattered nearby.

It was only then that I realized why my palms had been sweating profusely since earlier.

Thump!

The Hero, who threw the corpses into the pit, didn’t rest and continued to move.

‘....’

In this way, he moved all the corpses.

Even the ones that couldn’t maintain their intact forms were collected as scraps.

From sunset to sunrise and again until sunset.

His expression remained unchanged.

Only when he transported two corpses that resembled him did the muscles around his jaw tense.

‘....’

Again, in the night, he stood numbly in front of the huge flames consuming the corpses.

As if he wanted to suffocate in the pungent smoke and odor.

At that moment, it happened.

Drrrrrr!

The small vibration suddenly intensified.

The sharp sound of hooves with the horseshoe made the boy raise his head.

“Damn, a step too late!”

“Find survivors! Commence the search”

A group of mercenaries was entering the village.

They were from quite a reputable mercenary group, judging from the flag and the high-quality armor and equipment.

‘....’

Until they noticed him and surrounded him in a circle, the Hero didn’t make any moves.

He just stared at the reflections of the blinding light painfully.

“Here’s a survivor!”

“It’s a child! Captain! Come here! There’s a survivor!”

“We are the Karas Mercenary Corps.”

The scene transitioned to a new memory:



A campfire was ready.



* * *

Memories of a time when she gleamed with brilliance under the sunset flashed back, and I wanted to avert my eyes.

“No. Please!”

The boy couldn’t let go, even as a monstrous mouth with gaping jaws rushed towards him.

A powerful impact on the body was felt at that moment.

“Ted! You bastard! Snap out of it!”

In the shaking vision, a sword plunged deep into the creature’s mouth.

It was the leader.

Covered in blood, the leader urgently grabbed the shoulders of the Hero with a desperate expression.

“This damn bastard. Are you going to make a man who lost his daughter lose his prospective son-in-law too?”

“Lead... er. Leader. What should I do?”

“What should you do?! Get up already! We’re almost at Bernshire! You can survive if you make it there! Don’t you have a reason to live too!”

Amidst the incessant clangor and screams, the man who would have been more devastated than anyone reminded him of hope.

From the blind spot, another monster emerged, about to swallow him whole.

“Ah....”

The Hero wasn’t paralyzed.

Before the leader’s blood could splatter on the ground, he rushed at the monster and thrust his sword deep into its jaw joint.

Once, twice.

The leader’s corpse, torn into pieces, slid down, dripping with blood, while another monster sprang forth until it swallowed him whole.

“Te...d! I beg you! Please live!”

“Ah, no. I have to go back to Mom... Why...”

“It hurts, it hurts!! Just kill me! Please!”

As the monsters flooded in like a tidal wave, comrades fell.

On the puddle mixed with blood and rain, the boy, wielding his sword incessantly, screamed.

“Hoo, hoo.”

He too, was covered in wounds.

But the physical pain seemed long overridden by the mental agony that overwhelmed him.

Even though his body was in no condition to move, the Hero, as if in a seizure, screamed and swung his sword.

“Everyone, run! Run away!!”

It was a desperate struggle.

But it was futile.

The endless horde of monsters was beyond what he, who had not fully developed his talents, could handle.

Under their feet, flags and armor marked with the emblem of the mercenary group were trampled.

“Haha....”

Death approached at every moment.

The trembling eyes of the Hero looked at the remains of his comrades, or rather, the wreckage.

Whether to lose consciousness or try to regain it, the boy didn’t know.

There were only two things he could grasp at that moment.

The fact that he would never be completely happy again and the sad prediction that he would scrape through the debris of this memory until he died.

Fate was leading him back to the flames of the burning corpses.

Thud!

It happened when the monster’s horn broke the Hero’s sword, penetrating his side.

The boy flew for a long time, crashing into a window reeking of decay.

Even though he had suffered severe injuries, including a pierced side, he just lay there dazed.

“Run away. All of you.”

And he rose again.

‘I am lost for words.’

A broken sword.

A wobbling body.

Despite knowing that the Hero would not die here, the sense of impending doom sent shivers down my spine.

But he couldn’t fight any longer.

Woong!

It was because of the faint silhouette that suddenly appeared before him.

The Hero instinctively thrust his sword, but the figure easily avoided it and cast a surface magic with a wave of his hand.

‘...Who is it?’

The Hero had a powerful resistance to magic.

There were stories that even a mage of Beyond Grade would find it difficult to successfully cast magic on him.

A mage who could break through such magic resistance with a single gesture.

Only one name came to my mind.

‘...Zero?’

The white skeleton lying in the cave of the guardian.

Was that really not Zero?

The nameplate with the name ‘Depikio Lugo’ flashed in his mind.

‘Then where did Zero go?’

In the midst of such complicated thoughts, the Hero’s vision flickered.

The Hero, as if desperately trying to ascertain the identity of the silhouette, looked up at him even as he fell.

But that was the end.

Creaking-

A rapidly crumbling scene.

It felt completely different from the previous two fades, and I realized that this wasn’t the process of transitioning to the next memory but rather reaching the end of the memory.

“...”

Instead of the dimly lit space, a patterned wooden bookshelf appeared before me.

The scent of books permeated the air.

It was also at this moment that I noticed a change in ‘the Iris of Laplace’ for the first time.

* * *



[Thus, the flames ignited.]



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