Ch.173173. My Sword, My Hero (1)

It’s dark. Not the darkness of closed eyes, but something beyond that. I know this empty darkness. This overwhelming nothingness that can’t even be called a shadow, I know it. I can’t say I’m looking at the darkness. The darkness was watching me, but I couldn’t see anything.

A chill crept in. The darkness seemed to swirl in invisible eddies, flowing through my veins. In the dream, my senses awakened slowly. And I knew well that dreams where senses awaken are not proper dreams.

Mental space?

In the gap between floating consciousness and a state where absolutely nothing exists, I began to vaguely feel my existence. And I realized that I too was being perceived by someone. One gaze instantly multiplied into dozens, then thousands in the next moment, then hundreds of thousands in the moment after that, pouring down on me like a shower.

“Huk-!!”

Simply gazes. Gazes pouring from distances so far I couldn’t even measure them pierced through my lungs and brain. In the intervals between moments, I was pierced by these gazes, dying countless times and coming back to life. Something seemed to be holding me, not allowing me to die.

What pulled me out from being swept away in the dark current was a different kind of gaze that approached, pushing back the other gazes. It was different. But its presence wasn’t hostile. The gazes swarmed toward this different presence like a tide. It blocks them. The presence standing in the way of the gazes wasn’t allowing the darkness to advance any further.

So it wasn’t the Holy Sword that called me.

I grasped the situation and painfully opened my eyes. The battle unfolding at a distant place was barely discernible to me. The fight was lonely and harsh. As my senses gradually became clearer, the aftermath of the battle reached me as well. The aftermath slowly pushed me out of the dream.

This is not a place for you to come.

That’s what it seemed to say. Starting from my toes, I was slowly, finely torn apart and decomposed into pieces of flesh. In the pain of being shattered, I saw, very faintly, a white arm wielding a sword.

==

“It seems fatigue has built up quite a bit.”

When I blinked once, Agnes’s red eyes came into view. The air was chilly and clear as glass. I slowly traced my memories and recalled that I was in the middle of a hero’s victory celebration in the western region. The event had ended, and I was taking a walk with Agnes in the garden prepared in the backyard of the residence.

“…I apologize, Your Majesty. Please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Are you feeling alright?”

Agnes moved to stand directly in front of me and cupped my chin. Along with that gentleness, my nose tingled with her scent. Today, an embarrassing statue of me was erected, a street was renamed after me, and my story was added to the Blue Orthodox Church’s scripture.

“I’m fine. I must have been a bit tired.”

It was a poor excuse. Agnes’s worried expression pricked my conscience terribly.

“Are you deep in thought?”

“…Yes.”

Agnes didn’t speak carelessly. While still holding my chin, she caressed my cheeks with both thumbs, then gave a slight smile. It was quite a smile that could have made my heart flutter, if I had one. What were we talking about earlier? Perhaps about our next destination? Or maybe about how to govern the nation after the hero’s activities?

“Why don’t we go inside and rest?”

“I’m… fine.”

Agnes asked while continuing to fiddle with my cheeks. As if finding it amusing, she began squeezing and releasing my cheeks, pulling them back and forth like playing with a toy. Her expression was gradually changing from a solemn smile to that of a mischievous child.

“…Your Majesty.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

You could at least try to hide that twitching corner of your mouth when you speak. I let out a small laugh and moved back to Agnes’s side. With seemingly more cheerful steps, Agnes began to wander through the garden again. The winter garden was empty but not desolate.

“It’s been two months already since we started the royal tour.”

Agnes said, looking up at the star-filled sky. Honestly, I felt considerable aversion to being idolized and made an object of worship, but setting that aside, it had been quite an enjoyable journey.

I had fun chatting with Daphne throughout the journey. When I wanted some quiet time, I enjoyed the silence brewing and drinking tea with Marianne. I exchanged silly jokes with George who accompanied me on this journey, and occasionally conversed with Bishop Andre who attended in a supporting role. As for Agnes, I actually spent the most time with her during this journey.

“Weren’t you worried about matters concerning the evil god?”

Recalling the people I had been with and the stories I had gone through, I asked Agnes. She was looking at the vines covering the wall.

“What a foolish question.”

“Sometimes asking about an obvious fact means the act of asking itself has meaning.”

“Were you that worried about me?”

At that playful question, I couldn’t help but laugh. Agnes likewise let out a laugh and turned her head toward me. Her red eyes emitted a slightly different color at night.

“You answer a question with another question.”

“I’ll return exactly what you just said to me. Or are you saying it’s not an obvious fact?”

I showed my embarrassment. Indeed, I was no match for the queen in verbal exchanges. Agnes seemed to slowly enjoy watching me flustered before she started walking again. It was after we had walked around the garden twice more that she spoke to me again.

“After several considerations and changes of heart, I decided to have faith once.”

“What kind of faith?”

“Faith that all of this will succeed in stopping the evil god. Faith that our actions can prevent people from suffering unbearable pain.”

The wind blew. The winter wind carried a scent like cold tree bark.

“I thought that if I tell people to believe, I should have faith myself. So I decided to try having that faith first.”

Agnes said in a rather pure voice.

“Anyone listening would think my head is full of flowers.”

“…Those who don’t know that in that flower garden, the flowers are people, and Your Majesty is the soil.”

“Then you must be my sunlight. That’s quite a pleasing metaphor.”

I suddenly stopped walking. The word “faith” shook me so. Did I believe in myself? Was I holding the same conviction while demanding faith from them?

“Now we’ll go north.”

Agnes murmured softly. Upon hearing the word “north,” my head instinctively turned toward where the cold wind was blowing from. I suddenly felt nostalgic. The freezing wind, snow-covered fir trees, creaking window frames, and the smell of wet wood chunks. I heard Agnes laughing as she looked at my face.

“Did you miss the north that much? Your expression looks just like someone recalling a first love they’ve parted with.”

Did my face look that entranced? I became embarrassed and dismissed Agnes’s words with a fake cough.

“I made a promise to visit again. I’m just happy that I can keep that promise.”

“You probably didn’t want to keep it in this way.”

“Promises tend to continue once they’re kept. Though I might be criticized for this strange way now, it won’t be like that the next time I go.”

My beginning, my end. As I recalled what I needed to start in the north, I turned to Agnes. I didn’t know I would be telling her this plan first.

“What is it?”

Agnes gently asked, facing me. Now that I was about to speak, the words in my head were jumbled, and I couldn’t recall where to start. Since I couldn’t possibly ramble incoherently, I took the liberty of continuing to choose my words mentally, despite the rudeness.

“You look like you have something to say.”

Agnes raised the corner of her mouth as if intrigued. In Agnes’s red eyes, I recalled the eyes of the Holy Sword. They were the same color, but completely different in light. If Agnes’s eyes were closer to those of flowers and blood, the Holy Sword’s eyes were closer to the alien light of jewels.

“…Your expression is quite serious.”

Agnes wiped the smile from her face and looked at me more seriously. I was still organizing how to speak, and Agnes’s expression was gradually losing its composure. A slightly anxious look settled on her face, and her lips moved slightly.

“What are you trying to say that you’re taking so long? It’s almost as if…”

A faint blush appeared on Agnes’s face. The anxiety was gone. A gaze that seemed to show a strange expectation sparkled, holding the moonlight and starlight.

“Im… no, you look like someone about to say something important.”

“If it’s important, then I suppose it is important.”

I opened my mouth after the silence. I had roughly figured out how to convey my story. Just as it is, I should speak what I feel. Being more revered? Being upheld as God’s messenger and becoming a religious saint and avatar? About two years ago I would have waved it off, but now I rather welcome it. If people’s faith increases, destruction becomes that much more distant.

“Your Majesty, I…”

Gulp.

The sound of swallowing broke through that momentary silence. Only then could I properly see Agnes’s face. A look with none of the usual composure, and only then did I realize what Agnes was expecting, and like her, I swallowed dryly.

“I have something to start in the north.”

A question mark appeared above Agnes’s head. Her expression showed she didn’t understand what I was saying. With the feeling of swallowing a whole chestnut burr, I continued my story.

“St…art?”

Agnes blinked her eyes. I gave Agnes time to organize the information in her head. As Agnes continued to increase the number of question marks, still not understanding what I meant, I cleared my throat and struggled to speak.

“The battle I must begin from now on.”

“Battle?”

Agnes frowned. I caressed the Holy Sword at my waist.

“And it’s also a story about a being I’ve been hiding until now.”

Sensing this was no ordinary story, a cold light settled in Agnes’s eyes. Recalling that arm holding the sword, I began to tell the story I had been hiding.

==

My pillar, my teacher, my companion, my nanny. I know well what she means to me, but I don’t know what she actually is or why she helps me. She introduced herself as the will of the sword, but sometimes her words couldn’t be thought of as those of a sword.

My sword, my hero.

I returned to the room with the clean scent of snow, following Duke Quenore’s guidance. This is where I gained the power of the crown. Marianne, who followed me into the room, looked around with a nostalgic expression. Marianne didn’t seem to feel anything, but I could still sense the faint remnants of the crown in the room.

“It brings back memories.”

“To think you can now say such things.”

Marianne half-closed the door and looked at me. She seemed to have something to tell.

“Will you be able to return?”

I placed my hand on my heart, then lowered it and raised the corner of my mouth.

“Of course.”

The faith worshipping the hero has gathered sufficiently. People’s belief not only prevents the evil god from approaching but is also elevating my status to a position close to a god. That gathered power and wish is showing me how I can go to the final battle.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“I believe you. So now, don’t worry and go rescue that person.”

Marianne said, folding her hands neatly as if in prayer.

“When you return, don’t forget that you promised to go on a trip with Daphne and me.”

“…Yes. I have to come back for that if nothing else.”

Leaving my bitter smile behind, Daphne completely closed the door of the room. I waited until Daphne’s presence disappeared from the mansion, then exhaled softly and closed my eyes.

Slowly, I unravel the magical shackles forming the shape of a heart. At the same time, awakening the power of the crown, I began to slowly enter into my consciousness.

Something warm started from the left side of my chest and gradually spread throughout my body. The warmth seemed to take away my bodily sensations, as if vaporizing me. And so, sinking into darkness as if wrapped in a blanket, I

opened my eyes in a somehow familiar space.