Chapter 16: The Weight of a Hero

“So, the reason I shouldn’t accept elves into my party is…”

“Because they’re arrogant,” the principal said bluntly.

I thought for a moment before asking,

“Do you happen to have a personal grudge against the elf candidate currently here?”

“Most of the high-ranking elves in our society don’t get along with me,” the principal said casually.

“That girl is the daughter of one of the elders, too.”

She said it so offhandedly, it left me speechless for a moment.

“Oh, they do respect me. They have no choice, really. The World Tree is within the Empire’s territory, and while I haven’t interfered much in imperial politics, I did sacrifice myself 200 years ago to confront the Demon King.”

The principal lifted one leg slightly, revealing beneath her robe and long skirt a right leg encased in what looked like a mechanical greave.

“It’s a magic-powered greave. I can’t feel anything with it, but it works well enough,” she said as she lowered her leg again.

“So, if they want to assert their rights within the Empire, they have no choice but to invoke my name.”

“But I dislike the elves,” she continued.

“Even when humans of the Empire were shedding blood to fight, the elves only cared about their own gain.

The reason they’re sending a Hero Candidate now is simple: because I’ve stayed out of politics, their position is starting to weaken.”

“And… that’s why you’re telling me not to let her into the party?” I asked.

“Exactly. She might try to dominate the party, using her ‘experience’ or ‘age’ as an excuse.”

“Uh… do you personally know this candidate?” I asked hesitantly.

“Nope.”

I was at a loss for words.

There are plenty of people in the world who have prejudices against certain races.

But it was the first time I’d met someone who so thoroughly criticized their own race.

I’d heard elves usually had enormous pride in being elves.

Something major must have happened during that war 200 years ago.

“I’ll… take what you said into consideration,” I said.

“Excellent,” the principal said, nodding in satisfaction.

She walked slowly back to her seat and sat down.

“Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk.

I sat down properly, folding my hands in my lap.

“So,” she said, studying me,

“You seem like you have a lot you want to ask.”

“Ah, yes…”

“Whatever it is, I’ll answer as best I can. Feel free to ask anything.”

Now that we were sitting face-to-face, I found myself unsure where to start.

My eyes darted around nervously until I finally managed to think of a question.

“Why me?”

“Because the Goddess judged you to be a talent worthy of becoming a Hero,” she said.

“I’m not all that talented, though,” I said.

The principal smiled gently at my words.

“That’s probably exactly why.”

“…Because I’m not that talented?”

“No — because you’re humble.”

Why was she saying something so embarrassingly cheesy?

“If any of the other four had drawn the holy sword instead of you, how do you think they would have acted?”

I thought for a moment.

“Maybe they would have become arrogant?”

“Exactly,” the principal said.

“At the very least, none of them would have thought to put the sword back into the stone the way you did. They would have proudly declared that the Goddess had chosen them, without a second thought.”

Wouldn’t someone like that be more suitable for the role of a Hero, though?

“There are very few people in this world who truly reflect on the rights they’ve been given — who wonder if they really deserve them,” the principal said.

Reflect on it…

I didn’t think I’d gone that deep into it…

“There’s a common misconception,” she continued, seeing that I wasn’t responding.

“People think that pulling out the holy sword grants someone the right to be a Hero. But that’s wrong.

It’s because they were already a Hero that they were able to draw the sword.”

The principal leaned back against her desk, her sleeves shifting to reveal her arms.

The skin was covered in scars — burns both large and small, and long healed cuts.

Even more striking, her left hand was missing a pinky finger.

On her ring finger, a faint gleam caught my eye.

A ring?

“The only ones who can lift the holy sword are those who never take the weight of their responsibility lightly.

Those who can bear the hopes of many without faltering.

Those who can uphold justice no matter what situation they face.

The Goddess only grants the right to wield the sword to those she judges worthy.”

“Of course, I’m not the Goddess. I can’t claim to fully judge whether you, Lila, are worthy or not. All I can say is that the fact you drew the holy sword is proof enough for me. Whether you wield the sword or set it down, whether you call yourself a Hero or not — it doesn’t change what you are. You’re a Hero, regardless of what others think.”

A gentle curve formed at the corners of the principal’s mouth.

And yet, somehow… it looked like there was a faint glisten at the corners of her eyes too.

“If you want, Lila, you can set down the holy sword anytime. It’s fine if you decide you don’t need the title of Hero. It’s fine if you choose to walk away. I just hope you’ll understand one thing:’Hero’ is just a title. Those who are truly worthy of it will act righteously, whether they bear the title or not.”

“Uh… y-yes,” I stammered.

That expression on her face was a little overwhelming.

Even though she looked young, it was somehow like… the expression of a grandmother serving breakfast to her grandchild.

“There were many distinguished guests who wanted to meet you,” she continued.

“But now that the entrance ceremony is over, the academic term has officially begun. At this academy, we discourage unrelated outsiders from coming and going during the semester. I sent them all away, so you don’t have to worry.”

I blinked.

“Thank you… very much,” I said, letting out a deep breath.

The principal chuckled quietly.

***

“Lila.”

As soon as I stepped out of the principal’s office, I ran into Siwoo.

“Oh, you were waiting for me,” I said, feeling a little more relaxed now.

Wearing a fresh, easy smile, Siwoo asked,

“Did everything go well?”

“Yeah. She said I can quit whenever I want.”

I summarized the core of our conversation.

Siwoo’s smiling expression froze for a moment.

“Don’t worry,” I said, giving his shoulder a light tap.

“I’m not planning to quit right away. I just… need a bit more time to think.”

Only then did Siwoo let out a relieved sigh.

“What else did you talk about?” he asked.

“Uh, she told me not to let any elves into our party.”

As I answered, I subtly glanced sideways.

The maid was still standing by the principal’s office door.

She was politely bowing her head with her eyes closed — signaling she hadn’t seen or heard anything — but still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

“We don’t need an escort back,” I said.

“Understood. Safe travels,” the maid replied, bowing.

Once we had walked far enough away, I tugged on Siwoo’s arm and whispered,

“Let’s double-check something.”

Siwoo leaned in.

“That fake Hero — he’s the prince, right?”

“Yeah,” Siwoo answered seriously.

“A plant from the Imperial Family to secure their legitimacy.”

The Demon King hadn’t only appeared 200 years ago — he had emerged several times in history.

The current Empire claimed descent from a Hero from long ago.

But ever since then, no true Hero had ever been born in the royal line.

“The world’s been peaceful for so long, they didn’t really expect a real Hero to show up,” Siwoo said.

“Tch.”

Hearing that, I clicked my tongue and swallowed bitterly.

My mouth tastes dry.

“If we’re not careful, we’ll be under way more pressure than in the original story,” I muttered.

“That’s possible,” Siwoo agreed.

“We should double-check the other candidates too,” I said.

“Is there a café around here?”

“I memorized the campus layout. I’ll guide us.”

“Oh, seriously? You remember?”

“In the game, there was a system where you could interact with students to raise your affection level,” Siwoo said.

Ah, right.

“Then us going to a café together must be one of those affection-raising events too?” I teased.

“Hey, hey—” Siwoo spluttered.

I nudged his elbow with mine, and only then did he laugh, finally relaxing.

Honestly, no need to get so flustered over a joke.

Especially considering how red his face had gotten the first time he accidentally saw my shorts under my skirt.

When we were younger, he used to blush a lot more than he does now.

Probably because, back then, my hair was longer and he was more conscious of me as a girl.

After it got annoying during my adventurer days, I had cut it short for easier management.

Hmm.

Maybe I should grow it out again… just to tease him.

—Or at least, I thought about it, for a moment.