episode_0001
by fnovelpiaI had a dream. No, it felt like I was dreaming.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself on a certain street, accompanied by a strange sensation as if my body and soul were separating.
Though I couldn’t recall anything, I aimlessly walked on the nostalgic street where a faint scent lingered. I had no idea where I was going, as there was no particular place to go.
The name of the street, the direction I was heading, and even whether it was day or night were unclear. However, strangely enough, I didn’t hesitate in moving forward with my steps.
After who knows how much time had passed, at an unfamiliar intersection, I spotted a girl holding a signboard, standing between two crosswalks.
Perhaps due to it being a dream, I couldn’t clearly recognize her face, but one thing was certain: the girl was crying.
Even though I couldn’t identify her face, I could unmistakably perceive the pleading gaze in her eyes.
There was no need to ponder why the girl, covered in wounds, was crying alone.
The reason for her tears was written on the signboard she held, as if requesting help.
“Please save my world.”
Although it was a perplexing and incomprehensible request, my hand, which had approached the girl’s side unnoticed, was wiping away the tears flowing down her cheeks.
“It’s going to be alright now.”
Was I always such a kind person? Or was it just part of the dream? Normally, I would never blurt out such warm words.
However, whether it was because of those words or not, the girl’s face brightened up.
The signboard slipped from the girl’s hand. As she lifted herself up with a sprightly movement, she placed her hand on my chest and spoke with an unusually resonating and warm voice.
“May the protection of your purity be with you…”
“……?”
What did that brat just say?
*****
“Ouch!!”
The first thing I felt was pain.
My head, back, and waist. Judging from the sensation of pain throughout my body, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that I had fallen.
“Sigh….”
They breathed together, swallowing their pain. As the remarkably clear air supplied their lungs, their minds cleared, allowing for a moment of contemplation.
Could it be falling off the bed? They furrowed their brows in response to the slight but intense light that could hardly be called a lamp, covering their eyes with one hand.
Slowly rising and opening their eyes, they were met with dozens of gazes that seemed to be looking at something fascinating.
“…What, what is this?”
It wasn’t unreasonable for such words to burst out suddenly. The shabby building with a hole didn’t match the solemn atmosphere at all.
Dozens of people, dressed in expensive clothes, were staring at me as if they were witnessing something inexplicable on a peculiar pattern that could only be described as a magic circle.
Of course, the gazes I encountered were far from friendly. Disappointment, or even exaggerated despair, was reflected in their pupils.
There was only one elderly man who blinked his eyes strangely and wore an ecstatic smile, but his appearance was incredibly shabby.
In addition, a sentence and a number were written in the air above their heads.
Turning my gaze to the strange phenomenon that clearly felt artificial rather than a natural occurrence, I naturally asked the question that needed to be asked.
“…Who are you?”
I barely managed to change what I was about to say into a polite form.
Although I asked like that, could Korean be understood in the first place? Everyone gathered here had distinct Western features.
Normally, it would be appropriate to speak in English, but I wasn’t calm enough to confidently speak English in this situation, nor was I particularly good at it.
“For now… rest assured. We’re not your enemies. (Experience Acquisition: 79 people.)”
“Excuse me?”
An old man wearing a crown with a scruffy beard that seemed straight out of a fantasy movie spoke with a weary expression.
However, despite receiving the desired answer, instead of resolving their opinions, it only increased their confusion.
The first point is that he, who clearly appears to be Western, spoke Korean at a native level.
The second point is the statement that we are not your enemies. If we are not enemies, does it mean there are other enemies? Or was it just something said to reassure me?
Without understanding the true meaning of his words, the old man sighed and turned away from me as he spoke.
“It must be quite confusing. First, calm your mind. Father Jarvis will explain the situation. Now, let’s go. (Experience Acquisition: 79 individuals.)”
“Yes, let’s do that. (Experience Acquisition: 8 individuals.)”
As the man who seemed to be a subordinate responded, everyone gathered in the narrow space simultaneously turned their backs.
While feeling bewildered by their synchronized movements, like actors following a script or soldiers, I locked eyes with a woman in shabby attire who did not move with the old man and stared at me with fierce eyes.
“Huh?”
“……. (Experience Acquisition: 1 individual.)”
Her gaze felt like she regarded me as an enemy, as if her eyes could kill, my body involuntarily shrank as if my throat were being choked.
I have encountered minor enemies before, such as playful arguments or accidental clashes of shoulders, but this was something entirely new.
I felt a dryness in my mouth, an emotion that I had never experienced in my entire life.
One might say, “Why are you afraid just because she glared at you?” But even if the person glaring at you has a sword at their waist, they can be threatening enough, even if they are smaller than you.
“Is that real?”
Most likely, it is. There are clear traces of multiple uses on the sheath.
Although it is not my profession to handle blades, I have dealt with kitchen knives frequently enough to recognize them.
“Excuse me…”
“……. (Experience Acquisition: 1 individual.)”
As I tried to speak, the woman who had shown hostility roughly turned her back and continued forward along the path illuminated by light.
The hand reaching out towards her receding figure lost its strength and fell downward under the pull of gravity.
Why did she harbor such intense hostility towards me for no apparent reason?
Needless to say, today is our first encounter. I didn’t even know where I was or what situation I was in.
“They said someone would explain… but these bastards just talk and leave, so I have to figure out what’s what.”
Everyone left, and the only person left in the room was an old man dressed shabbily, so he must be the priest.
I asked the tearful old man, who seemed like he would cry at any moment as if he had come out of a geometric figure that could be called a magic circle, “Sir… What happened?”
“Oh, ohh…!!!”
The old man’s body began to tremble. Like a child meeting their idol, the excited old man couldn’t hide his excitement and suddenly kneeled down, clutching his head, and shouted.
“Jarvis, the humble servant of the goddess, presents himself to the hero!!”
“What… did you say?”
“What did I say?”
*****
“This is driving me crazy….”
My head hurts. As if stabbing my forehead with a needle, I instinctively touched my temple in response to the throbbing headache.
The story the old man told was too absurd to be considered reality, and too lackluster to be called fantasy.
To accept that this was actually happening to me, I had to acknowledge two facts first.
First, I had been transported to another world.
Second, that world was in a crisis of destruction, and I was the one to prevent it.
“Damn, I don’t want to accept either of them….”
Valor. Patience. Love. Wisdom. Innocence.
In this world governed by the gods who oversee the five virtues, there is a being that brings about the destruction of the world every hundred years, known as the Demon King.
No, according to Jarvis, it would be better to express it as an occurrence rather than an invasion.
The Demon King and the entities referred to as demons are not beings that come from somewhere else, but rather beings that are born periodically in this world.
When death accumulates in the world due to war, pandemics, and other calamities, the wandering souls fill the world and are reborn as demons according to the order of the world.
And in the era of the Demon King’s advent, which occurs every 100 years, the story that I’ve heard so often in games about invading this world as the vanguard of the Demon King seemed to be a reality in this world.
“Well, if the population increases, the Demon King will become stronger…”
“Yes! This time, the Demon King is the strongest in a history of 1,000 years!! If such an existence appears, this world will undoubtedly be filled with death!”
“How am I supposed to stop that?”
“Yes?”
“Not ‘yes,’ but I’ve only held a kitchen knife, not a sword. How am I supposed to stop it?”
Now I understood why those authors looked at me with such eyes.
I would definitely disappoint them if I, summoned as a hero from a fairy tale-like catastrophe, turned out to be someone like me.
The only fortunate thing is that there are four heroes, not just me, right?
Each god has one hero, so there are four heroes including me.
Suddenly, I became curious about which god’s hero I am. Even though I don’t have any intention of acting as a hero, it wouldn’t hurt to know.
“So, what god’s hero am I?”
“Yes! You are the hero of the Goddess of Purity! In other words, you are the Hero of Purity!!”
“The Hero of Purity…”
After repeating those words several times, I finally understood why that girl mentioned the hymen. Just because she’s the goddess of purity, does that mean she’s obsessed with virginity?
If there were any priests overflowing with loyalty to this goddess, I kept the words of blasphemy to myself and stored them in my heart.
“Why am I the hero? I’m not particularly fixated on virginity…”
As soon as the word “virgin” came to mind, a clear feeling of resolution seemed to solve one of the lingering questions in my head.
If the experience factor that appeared above people’s heads is related to me becoming a hero of purity, could it be that I was the one who did it?
“Excuse me, do you have a mirror?”
“Yes, of course.”
Jarvis took out an old mirror from the drawer and handed it over cautiously.
…
For the first time, I looked at the mirror with tension. The letters and numbers that were floating above their heads were not written on my head reflected in the mirror.
“Why is that?”
…
Certainly, Jarvis, who serves the goddess of purity, is no exception.
Among so many people gathered, it was only me who was different.
“Oh, mother…”
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