Ch.940The One Who Bears the Sole Responsibility

After managing to process all kinds of official duties, delegating everything that could possibly be delegated, I was finally able to enjoy a moment of freedom.

*THWACK!*

“Kuhak…!”

The freedom to beat someone to my heart’s content.

“Fix your stance! Here comes another one!”

Of course, it’s not like I was just going around hitting random people. That would be absurd. What kind of madwoman would do that?

“Kuuugh…! That’s easier said than done…”

“Then get beaten to death. Do you think your enemy will listen to such excuses?”

“…No, I suppose not.”

“Good that you understand. Now come at me again, Demian!”

The only person I was enthusiastically beating up was Demian.

As always.

—-

After the fierce battle with the three dragons, all forces that participated experienced a dramatic increase in power.

What we killed wasn’t just any ordinary monster, was it? It was a dragon.

Having successfully slain dragons—the creatures known as the strongest beings—it was only natural that those who contributed… that is, those who shared in the experience, would grow stronger.

Especially Demian, who was central to Ismenios’s subjugation, received more power than anyone else who participated in the dragon’s defeat.

Well, except for me, of course.

How could anyone compare to the human who single-handedly slew Brosna and personally ended Ismenios’s life?

Anyway, thanks to this, Demian was able to become significantly stronger than before killing the dragon.

“Sharpen your reactions! If you have a Tale of Heros that allows you to move freely, you need to develop the skills to utilize it to the fullest!”

“I’m trying!”

Still, he had a long way to go.

I continued to spar with Demian daily, generously bestowing upon him a thorough beating.

So he could adapt to his newfound strength.

And so he could continue advancing endlessly toward greater heights, never satisfied with his current level.

I was spending my hard-earned rest time without reservation.

When I could be lying in bed getting much-needed rest, I was instead sweating and overexerting my muscles to help Demian become stronger. If this isn’t the epitome of self-sacrifice, what is?

Demian must surely be grateful.

“Damn it, just let me land one hit…!”

…Or maybe not.

—-

Thirty minutes later.

After close-quarters combat where I deliberately restricted area attacks to maximize Demian’s skills, I finally declared a short break and sat down on a rock in the clearing.

It was an unavoidable break. I couldn’t continue sparring with both arms broken, could I?

In a real battle, I would have had to keep fighting in that condition, but that would only apply in life-or-death situations. This was training, so it was right to rest when needed.

In fact, it was more efficient that way.

To improve one’s skills, one should train in normal condition. How much practical benefit could come from fighting with broken arms, holding a sword in your mouth?

For that reason, Demian and I took a break to chat while waiting for his arm bones to reattach.

“You’ve definitely gotten stronger, Demian. You’re on par with… or slightly below my former self.”

First, I praised Demian for his clearly improved skills.

His growth rate was remarkable.

Due to ability compatibility, he would likely lose against Orhan, but in terms of pure power output, he was comparable to my level just before I mastered Skywalk.

To be frank, it wasn’t entirely his own strength but partly due to the holy sword’s power, but even considering that, his rapid growth was impressive.

“…Isn’t it usually ‘or above’ in situations like this?”

“Honestly, you’re not above that level yet.”

Of course, that wasn’t enough to satisfy me.

At the very least, he should be on par with me at the point when I had fully incorporated Skywalk through my fierce battles with Shengjangsi and Persiella.

“You still have a long way to go. A very long way.”

So I put a cigarette in my mouth and advised him not to be satisfied with his current level.

“You experienced it firsthand, didn’t you? How three dragons came rushing in to kill you the moment they caught the scent of your holy sword. Do you think dragons are the only ones with such schemes?”

Not only did those perceptive dragons track the holy sword’s energy and attack, but they also loudly proclaimed to the whole world that Demian was the sword’s owner.

All those who knew about Caliburn, especially those hostile to humans, would start targeting Demian.

Powerful magical beasts with intelligence, dragons, minions of evil gods.

Ancient god’s apostles and those “phantom knights” or whatever under Feyrus.

Werebeasts with armies, perhaps even Dragonborn or fairies.

All of them were hostile to Caliburn’s owner.

Whether due to trauma from being crushed by Carlos the Great, or perhaps previous owners met similar fates… I wasn’t sure.

Anyway, now that Demian had been revealed as Caliburn’s owner, we needed to prepare thoroughly for the possibility of additional attacks from such creatures.

What about in the original work?

In the original… Demian, blaming himself, left his companions and wandered alone, gradually becoming more desolate as he faced enemies who attacked him.

Of course, not long after, when his life was in critical danger, his companions who had been following him helped him achieve victory, leading to an emotional reunion…

But such melodrama was far from my taste.

Besides, the current Demian didn’t seem to have the notion of facing danger alone to avoid burdening his companions.

The reason, well… what could it be?

Although he had gained emotions, his sensitivity was still severely lacking.

That was a plausible guess.

Having only recently awakened to emotions, Demian was still at a level not much different from a young child when it came to the concept of emotions.

It would take time for him to develop the rich sensitivity that others possessed.

That’s why he might not have thought of throwing himself into hardship to avoid burdening his companions.

Or perhaps, unlike in the original work where he had no stronger companions, the current Demian had me, a powerful ally, firmly standing beside him.

Unlike the original where he left out of fear his companions would be sacrificed, here there was no need to leave since such tragedy was unlikely to occur with me around.

…Well, it didn’t matter either way.

It’s not like I could ask him about his reasons anyway.

Asking why he wasn’t leaving alone despite knowing he was being targeted?

Only someone completely lacking in tact and consideration would ask such a question.

It would seem like I was giving him the evil eye, openly suggesting he should leave.

That wasn’t my intention, but if Demian were to interpret it as a message to leave and depart alone… that would be troublesome.

Why?

According to the original game’s timeline, dragons weren’t supposed to appear in the world until 7-8 years after entering the academy.

But what actually happened?

Whether because of me or something else, the destruction of Heaven’s Wall had accelerated to the point where dragons emerged after just 2 years.

In other words, Demian hadn’t grown enough yet, but his enemies were already fully developed.

So if he left, it would be disastrous.

Even Demian in his prime—in his early twenties with both skill and experience—nearly died when he left alone.

He would have died if his companions hadn’t saved him.

But what about the current Demian? He was at least five levels below his prime in the original work. If he left alone like in the original, he could die without anyone knowing.

So Demian needed to stay here. Stay and become stronger. Whether he wanted to or not.

Of course, explaining all these long and complicated circumstances to convince him would be troublesome and difficult.

So I summarized it in just three sentences for Demian.

“Desert and you die. Neglect training and you die. So stay put and train until you cough blood.”

And then I added the reason and justification why he must do so:

“If you’ve earned the grand title of holy sword’s owner, isn’t it your natural duty to acquire skills worthy of it?”

Explaining that this level of hardship was a trial and duty that he, as the holy sword’s owner—that is, as a hero—naturally had to go through.

“But I didn’t even choose to pull out the holy sword, so saying that…”

Demian… talking back? I almost reflexively hit him but barely restrained myself.

Demian didn’t truly think that way either; he was just complaining about the harshness of the training.

“You’re right. You didn’t choose the holy sword. I was the one who brought you there.”

So I gave Demian a remarkably generous response to his small complaint.

“But the holy sword chose you as its owner, didn’t it? So you must take responsibility.”

It wasn’t complete agreement, more like advice.

“Rights you never wanted. Duties you never asked for. Not abandoning them and silently fulfilling the responsibilities you’ve been given—that’s what being an adult means.”

As an adult, fulfill your responsibilities whether you like the task or not. Even by my own standards, this seemed like sage advice.

[With that mouth of yours, spouting such nonsense…]

Hersella poured scorn on me, calling my words utter nonsense… but such empty talk could be ignored.

The only advice she could give others was “tear them apart and kill them,” so she must have been secretly jealous of my civilized and cultured demeanor.

So I ignored Hersella’s criticism and, tossing away my finished cigarette, offered one final piece of advice.

“You understand, right? So Demian, stop complaining and do your best in what you need to do. Become an adult. Like me.”

[You might as well just insult him directly.]

What’s she on about? If you’re going to spout such pointless sarcasm, why not say it to Demian’s face?

His eyes are red-rimmed from how moved he is. That’s how profound my advice was. Right?

“Coming from someone who dumped all their official duties on a regent…”

…Apparently not.

Instead of thanks, he’s giving me a retort.

Immediately after, my right hand launched toward the back of Demian’s head.

[Aha, ah, haha, ahahahahat! Yes! You saw right through him! Ahahahat!]

To drown out Hersella’s burst of laughter with the crisp sound of impact.