Ch.174174. My Sword, My Hero (2)

Mental Space.

I seemed to vaguely realize that this place wasn’t merely a space that existed in the “mind.” A wind blew from the quietly spreading darkness. The air clearly brushing against my skin and the sound of that wind swirling behind my back. This place was a cliff. I had returned to the space where the crown had tested me.

“…You’ve arrived.”

I stroked my head. A thorny crown made of magical power was floating above my head. The crown’s power was separate from my own magic. But it didn’t seem like that power was being fully manifested in this space either.

This time, there wouldn’t be hands pulling me back off the cliff.

I glanced back briefly. Then, I took a step toward the pinhole-sized light visible before me. Whether the Holy Sword would be at the end, or something else was waiting for me, I didn’t know, but my instinct insisted that I should walk toward that light.

So I walked. I moved my feet silently without saying anything. Of course, even though I was moving at increased speed with the crown’s power, the light showed no signs of getting closer. I hadn’t expected to reach it quickly anyway, so it wasn’t anything special.

“…Still, it does feel quite far.”

And as I continued walking, I felt subtle changes in my consciousness. The feeling that my diligently walking feet and my constantly thinking mind were separating. I walked with the sensation of moving my body in a dream. Even when I tried to stop my wandering thoughts and focus on my body, it had no effect.

I stopped briefly while moving and looked down at my hand. Flipping my hand over and looking at my palm felt extremely awkward.

[That’s evidence that you’ve begun to shed your shell.]

And suddenly, a voice came from the empty air. I jumped in surprise and lifted my head. It was a voice I’d heard before. Clearly, it was the voice I couldn’t distinguish as male or female that I’d heard during the crown’s trial. Was it still remaining in the crown?

“…Who are you?”

[I’m a remnant of the person who first created this space. Like a shadow. You could think of me as that person’s arrangement. You seemed to think I was the crown’s previous owner. Well, that’s not entirely wrong, so let’s move on. In the end, who I am isn’t important.]

The voice spoke with a slightly amused tone. As I remained startled and unable to speak, the voice addressed me again.

[You managed to open the entrance to this place. I didn’t know you’d use people’s faith like this. I wonder if I should say you’re more cunning than I thought, or that you’ve truly learned to care for people.]

The voice resonated around me as if examining me. I turned my body toward the direction the voice was coming from, conscious of the invisible gaze. Was it not simply some remnant built into the crown? Had it been here all along, since I first put on the crown and afterward?

[Well, if that faith saves people, that’s fine. It’s right to think about what comes after when it comes. You truly made the best choices and always achieved the best results.]

The voice seemed to be waiting for me to speak.

“How much can you answer?”

[Everything you’re curious about.]

I hesitated. Meanwhile, I decided to ask the first question that came to mind. I seriously considered whether I should use formal speech, but I recalled that I had never used formal speech with that voice. Though I had cursed while talking to myself.

“Where is the Holy Sword now?”

[By Holy Sword… for you, that would refer to that white-haired one.]

The voice chuckled softly as if well aware of the Holy Sword’s human form.

[She is now there, beyond this isolated space. Wielding her sword, endlessly cutting down approaching shadows and darkness, the edge of destruction.]

I became conscious of my waist. The Holy Sword wasn’t there, but instead, the Veil that was always in my left hand was there. I gripped the Veil’s hilt. The Veil’s consciousness was gradually expanding as it remained with me. Though it couldn’t speak yet, I wondered if it would soon address me.

[There’s no need to ask… why you came here.]

The voice said with a snort.

[That one told you not to give up your happiness as a person and to live on, but you’re just as stubborn as her. I suppose that’s the personality of someone who bears the fate of salvation.]

“…Salvation is arrogance. This is just my stubbornness.”

[That nonsense about salvation being arrogance doesn’t work in this world. If it allows you to escape unwanted death, what else would you call it but salvation? To my eyes, not calling it salvation is rather irritating.]

I couldn’t tell if the tone was mocking me or sympathizing with me. I set aside the conversation topic that wouldn’t go anywhere anyway and slowly began asking the questions I needed to ask.

“What does it mean that I’ve begun to shed my shell?”

[It means you’ve cast off your human shell and reached the realm of gods. Didn’t you know?]

“I knew I had to transcend… but I didn’t know anything beyond that.”

[….]

The voice was silent, but I could feel the being contemplating beyond the silence.

[You, don’t you still not know what kind of being you are?]

Who am I? I frowned. Before I could open my mouth to answer, the voice began firing questions in succession.

[I’m asking if you truly don’t know who you are.]

At the word “truly,” my frown smoothed out. It was the moment I thought there might be some hidden meaning in those words.

[Ha! This is ridiculous. So she didn’t even tell you such facts ‘this time’ so you could live happily? That white-haired bitch is being absurd.]

White-haired bitch, the Holy Sword. Was there more that the Holy Sword should have told me? I began piecing together the voice’s words like a puzzle in my mind, but the voice wouldn’t leave me alone.

[Do you have memories from before you were chosen as a hero?]

What?

[To be precise, memories from before you grasped the Holy Sword? Do you have information about where you were born, who your parents were, and what kind of life you lived before becoming an adventurer?]

With the flood of questions, I ended up closing my mouth. Memories from before being chosen as a hero? Memories from before grasping the Holy Sword? Such things were beyond what I could answer. What was the intention behind these questions? Was the voice identifying my essence? The fact that I was – a possessor?

[No, no. I shouldn’t have asked like this.]

The voice sighed. With the voice’s sigh, a thread-like breeze blew from somewhere, gently brushing my hair.

[Tell me your name.]

Name. I blurted out the words coming from my mouth without any filter.

“Ilroy. No surname. Probably because I’m a commoner.”

[No surname, you say.]

The voice chuckled softly.

[Have you actually seen anyone in this world without a surname?]

“Yes…”

[Excluding that homunculus. I mean ‘people.’ ‘People.’ Well, in terms of being created, they’re the same.]

When I remained silent for a while, the voice asked again.

[And that’s not what I was asking about, Ilroy.]

The voice suddenly became cautious and secretive, as if whispering in my ear. I couldn’t stop the frost forming in my heart. The sense of discomfort and déjà vu suddenly became frighteningly heavy. I unconsciously backed away, trying to distance myself from the voice.

[You probably think you fell from the outside world and suddenly entered the hero’s body. You’ll think you suddenly suffered an unreasonable fate by an incomprehensible power, and that this world is completely different from where you lived.]

Crack.

Time and space seemed to freeze. I stopped backing away and froze in place. The voice dropped questions on me like a siege hammer, leaving me unable to offer even the slightest resistance.

[Tell me your name, possessor.]

My name. My name before becoming Ilroy.

I opened my mouth to give an answer, but touched my throat in confusion at the voice that wouldn’t come out. Name, recall the name. My name before I entered this cursed world, before I entered Ilroy’s body-.

“Ah…, ah….”

[Now you’re beginning to understand a little.]

A mocking voice. But nothing reached my ears.

What was my name?

[Let me tell you an interesting fact, Ilroy.]

I forcibly squeezed out breaths that wouldn’t come. The voice clicked its tongue.

[How could a possessor who had never fought before fight so well? How could someone master wielding a sword in just a few months and understand the mysteries of the blade enough to cut down a giant that could destroy the world? How could someone who had never tried to save others bear such a sense of mission and noble sacrifice?]

I couldn’t maintain my balance. I drew the Veil and barely supported my staggering body. The tip of the Veil stuck into the ground, making small clattering sounds.

[‘Possessor Ilroy’ never existed in the first place. Haven’t you ever thought of it this way? ‘Original work?’ That never existed either. I Won’t Return – what a ridiculous novel title.]

Don’t talk nonsense. Then how could I have made choices opposite to what Ilroy would have done, and how could I have grown until now-?

[It was possible because the ‘Holy Sword’ spoke to you. Then why didn’t the Holy Sword in the ‘original work’ speak to Ilroy? Why couldn’t the ‘original’ Ilroy awaken the Holy Sword?]

Thud. The sound of something falling to the floor. Probably the sound of my body collapsing and hitting the ground. I breathed roughly, unable to handle the information suddenly flowing into my mind and its weight.

[Then what exactly is this ‘original work’ that I just denied? If the ‘original work’ didn’t exist, then what is this world? And what kind of being are you?]

A short, light sigh.

[You are neither the first hero,]

The light that had appeared like a pinhole was growing larger. No, it wasn’t that the light was growing larger, but that I was getting closer to it. The light was shining with just enough area for one person to barely enter, but the darkness couldn’t invade that light.

[Nor was the being you call the ‘Holy Sword’ originally in the ‘Holy Sword.’]

And in the center of that light stood a woman holding a sword, standing firm.

[The crown’s owner, the Holy Sword’s first owner. The first hero and incarnation of light, the natural enemy of evil gods.]

The woman’s red eyes had no focus, and the sword she wielded was empty.

[Witness to the beginning of the myth created by light to cut down evil gods, and also faced with the end of the world,]

At that moment, the sound of shadows being cut was particularly loud.

[Isha.]

The Holy Sword’s blade never dulls. But now it seemed that the sharp blade wasn’t only aimed at evil gods.

[That’s the name of the person you knew as the ‘Holy Sword.’]

Slash.

[Just as the evil god left calamities, she created someone who could counter the calamities from the remnants of light.]

Slash.

[She named that collection of remnants Ilroy. One who shines light.]

Slash.

[And the ‘first story’ written by the protagonist she created became the ‘original work,’]

Slash.

[The end of the first story… ended with a conclusion Isha never imagined. Ilroy died midway, and the strongest human couldn’t overcome the evil god.]

Slash.

[The world is destroyed. And after eons of time pass, Isha awakens again in the chaos.]

Clang, slash.

[The cruel god of light preserved Isha’s memories intact to completely drive out the evil gods. And Isha creates you again, carrying a full load of regret and guilt.]

CLANG-!

[‘Original work’ is your memory, and Isha’s memory. I am also a remnant of such Isha.]

I Won’t Return

The voice uttered with an incredibly bitter tone.

[That wasn’t meant in any other sense, but was my, Isha’s regret.]

The Holy Sword… no, Isha, swung her sword again.