Chapter 24: The Solitary Hero

The Hero was always alone.

The black-haired, cursed Hero. It was only natural. Since ancient times, the perception that black hair was a sign of a curse had been widespread. Now, in the midst of a war against the Demon King, that aversion had grown into an extreme loathing.

Even Felix had never seen black hair in person until he met Ian. No citizen of the Empire was ever heard of possessing such a trait. Perhaps that was why, as soon as the oracle decreed that a black-haired boy who had not yet reached adulthood would become the Hero, they were able to find him instantly.

Stories of the black-haired orphan boy had spread through every marketplace in the capital. While the nobility remained ignorant of such common rumors, the commoners whispered about the ominous, dark-haired pauper whenever they had a spare moment. After Ian appeared at the Rose Orphanage, it became a common idiom to blame a streak of bad luck on “the black hair.”

The Hero washed alone, ate alone, and acted alone. In a place governed by a strict military hierarchy of command and obedience, the Hero’s existence was undeniably alien. He was the central axis of this war, yet he belonged nowhere.

The war against the monsters was grueling. If they had possessed even a shred of intellect, tactics could have been devised to minimize damage. But to stop monsters driven solely by an instinct for “destruction,” only further destruction sufficed. It was an endlessly soul-crushing war of attrition.

In truth, Felix himself hadn’t known how to treat the Hero. One could feel an untouchable martial prowess radiating from the boy. Whenever they were alone, Felix sometimes felt as if he were suffocating under the sheer weight of the Hero’s presence.

Since the Hero’s arrival, no massive battles had occurred. This was entirely thanks to him. Upon arrival, he took only a brief rest before immediately deploying a dome-shaped barrier that blanketed the entire base. Despite everyone’s protests, the Hero stood watch alone that night. Claiming he needed to determine how to calibrate his divinity, he stayed awake until dawn guarding the vast encampment. For the first time since the long war began, the soldiers spent a night entirely free from the fear of a surprise attack.

The power emanating from the Hero was staggering. His inexhaustible divinity and mana were truly worthy of being called the Goddess’s blessing. Curiously, while he used red mana for physical enhancement and blue mana for magic, his combined energy took on a violet hue, identical to his divinity.

Ironically, in a place where tens of thousands were stationed, the one called the “Hope of Humanity” became increasingly isolated. A young, black-haired Hero who knew nothing of the world. The overwhelming power he displayed upon arrival only served to make the soldiers feel a deeper sense of estrangement.

The soldiers feared the Hero, but they also looked down on him. There was resentment mixed in as well. If he is this strong, why did he leave us to suffer until it came to this? Why did he let my comrades, my family, die? As always, the Hero remained silent, enduring it all in solitude.

Fifteen days after the Hero’s arrival, the breaking point finally came. Because the Hero’s barrier had been so effective at repelling minor skirmishes, the number of monsters gathered outside had grown beyond a certain threshold. The monsters, having increased exponentially, eventually began attacking the surrounding villages. Nothing could stop creatures whose only purpose was annihilation. The Imperial Army was only able to subjugate them after two villages had already been razed to the ground.

Under the bright light of a full moon, while everyone else slept, Ian stepped into the remains of a trampled village. On the village gate, the symbol of the Goddess glowed faintly. It was the same mark etched into the inside of his own right wrist.

The full moon cast an eerie light. Ian felt a gaze and looked up, but only the white moon stared back. Goddess… A sigh, like a low moan, escaped Ian’s lips.

Caw—

The sound of a crow echoed. Sensing a presence approaching unsteadily, Ian turned around. It was a monster—draped in melting black hide—that had once been a human being. With hollow eyes, Ian waited for the monster to reach a certain distance before pouring out his divinity. It was the transparent light of purification.

The wave of violet-tinged divinity poured out like a burning tide, nearly burying the monster from sight. Light covered the darkness completely. Even though he knew that a life already extinguished could not bloom again, Ian continued to pour out his power. Just in case.

As the tide of divinity receded, the monster was revealed again. With the black hide gone, what remained was a red, withered form that looked as if it had been scorched. The creature twisted its joints at grotesque angles, struggling to shove a dangling eyeball back into its socket. it was a macabre sight.

“He… Hero…”

Though its life was warped, a sliver of intellect seemed to remain. When it opened its mouth, a grating voice like a stone scraping against iron leaked out.

“Yes. I am the Hero.”

Ian did not look away. He stared directly at the monster. This creature was the reality he had to face.

“Hero!”

“…”

“He, He, Hero! Late, you’re l-late!”

“…”

“Yo-you ki-killed them, He-Hero! You did!”

“…”

“You had the po-power! To-too late, everyone’s de-dead!”

Every time the monster spoke, thick malice spread through the air. The energy was so potent it felt tangible. Ian didn’t purify the malice directed at him; he let it be. He simply watched the darkening energy with vacant eyes. Soon, a black haze began to shimmer between Ian and the monster.

“A cu-curse! Yo-you and the De-Demon King… are the sa-same!”

The naked monster closed the distance. Ian watched its approach with an expressionless face.

“My da-daughter! D-dead!”

Ian read the traces left within the monster. It was easy to peer into the mind of something that had already lost its ego. Within the collapsed life was a psyche equally ruined. Ian walked through those ruins, sifting through its memories.

‘Papa!’

‘Marilyn!’

Bright sunlight. Golden fields. A red apple. A little girl holding an apple in both hands was running toward a man. It was a memory from ten years ago. A beautiful memory, but unfortunately, it wasn’t what Ian was looking for.

‘Papa, you’re my hero forever.’

Next, he saw a modest but festive wedding ceremony in the village church. A happy memory, but not this one either. Searching haphazardly through the memories, Ian finally found what he wanted.

‘Papa!’

She was being half-eaten by a monster, screaming as her fingernails clawed at the dirt. Ian held his splitting head and etched the scene into his mind. Hair tied up in a bun. An apron. A plaid shirt.

Ian blinked. The monster was now right in front of him. Its eyeball, which had failed to stay in place, dangled precariously.

Violet mana flared up from the tips of his toes. Ian visualized a “human” woman, covered in dust with scraped knees but otherwise whole. Hair in a bun… an apron… a plaid shirt…

“…Papa.”

“Mar… Marilyn!”

The monster threw its arms open and collided clumsily against him. The skeletal arms wrapping around him were cold. But the tears of the man seeing his daughter one last time were hot.

For the sake of a monster that was already dead, Ian uttered the word “Papa” for the first time in his life.

“I’m… I’m alive.”

“Marilyn!”

“Papa, I’m alive and well. I’m okay.”

The monster sobbed.

Thwack—

Ian raised the hand that had been hugging the monster and crushed its head. The monster’s head burst apart, but as if to prove that life had long since departed, there was no moisture—only dry bone fragments scattering in the wind.

Over the corpse that had fallen without a head, Ian took off his cape and draped it over him. It was the finest thing he owned. An item bestowed personally by the Emperor to advertise the Hero’s magnificent departure to the entire Empire.

Ian did not cry. He closed his eyes and painted over the messy thoughts in his head with black. At this moment, he didn’t want to think about anything at all.

The Hero was always alone.