This World Needs a Hero - Chapter 271

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Chapter 271

Rosenstark Principal’s Office.

The room, now under a new owner, bore almost no traces of its previous occupant.

Interim Principal Scholar looked at the girl in front of him with indifferent eyes.

He was the next ranking professor after Lavrin, an old man whose motto, unlike Lavrin’s, was “moderation.”

“So, you want to drop out?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have your guardian’s consent?”

“I do.”

Leciel’s hand trembled slightly as she handed over the withdrawal form, but quickly steadied.

“Are you really leaving? Take care of yourself.”

“You’ll do well wherever you go… I’ll always support you.”

“We’ll meet again soon.”

“…Leciel. If it gets tough, call us anytime!”

“Breaking news: Rosenstark’s average attractiveness level has just plummeted.”

“Shut up, Gerald.”

In the end, her friends, who had tried to stop her, couldn’t change her mind.

Leciel also felt sad and regretful, but she could no longer stay at Rosenstark.

This place was filled only with misery.

Guilt related to Dante.

Betrayal towards the hero.

These two emotions constantly gnawed at Leciel, and she couldn’t endure it any longer.

…Surprisingly, her grandmother, Zion Hiyashin, did not stop her from dropping out.

“Sometimes, you need to turn your back on things.”

A brief silence filled the principal’s office.

“Hmm…”

Scholar’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Leciel.

It was a shame that Leciel, who had been the pride of the academy, was leaving, but on the other hand, he was glad that the fake hero’s disciple was leaving on her own.

“Alright, let’s see the reason for withdrawal…”

Scholar’s thick fingers scanned the document and then stopped abruptly.

“Joining the Dawn Knights?”

Yes.

Leciel had joined the knights.

It wasn’t the Lotus Knights her friends had formed.

She couldn’t bring herself to join a knights’ order that implied ‘innocence.’

She believed that neither she nor the fake hero were anywhere near innocent.

Leciel’s fists clenched tightly.

Memories of the dreamy shoreline flooded her mind.

Unfortunately, that day was etched too deeply in her memory and often resurfaced unexpectedly.

The sound of waves, an easel, paints, a sunset, and the hero.

“I had to be urgent. When I came to my senses, everyone was looking only at me. I had to meet their expectations.”

So he said he understood.

“So leave it to me. No matter where your final destination is, I’ll help you build the strength to reach it.”

“That is the responsibility of a teacher.”

Leciel exhaled a trembling breath.

The emotions Leciel felt towards the hero were not simply hatred.

She knew this herself.

However, no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t understand him.

‘How could you…’

If he was a fake, he could have just done it moderately.

Why did he deceive her by pretending to be a hero even in private?

He knew better than anyone what the ‘hero’ meant to her.

…Yes, it was true that his recognition and affection had healed her, who was filled with insecurity and deficiency.

But now that all the lies had been exposed.

Leciel felt like she had reverted to a state worse than before.

He could have hinted at it.

No, even now, if he came and gave some explanation, she would appreciate it.

Even knowing that it was an impossible thought, Leciel couldn’t stop.

…The worst part was that she absolutely could not be the one to find him.

How could she track down a monster that could change its appearance at will?

When she found herself closely observing the faces of strangers passing by.

Leciel tore up all the paintings she had of the hero.

A painting requires affection for the subject.

Leciel acknowledged that while drawing the hero, she had a deep desire to capture not just his appearance but his essence.

As she completed each piece, she felt she understood his lonely and isolated life a little more, and she herself was comforted.

But it was all a lie.

She had only seen the parts of him that he wanted to show.

It was truly superficial.

Who was the ‘he’ that she had set as her lifelong goal and loved?

Plod—

Leciel looked at the principal’s signature being drawn on her withdrawal form with empty eyes, then left the building.

Her friends were waiting for her.

“Leciel…”

They seemed to be saying something, but she couldn’t hear it well.

Leciel’s gaze landed on the lotus-shaped brooches they wore as a group.

‘Innocence.’

She didn’t know what form it took, so she couldn’t seek it out.

In that case, she would have to become a form that it would come to find.

If she burned brightly on the battlefield more than anyone else, one day that light and heat would reach him.

“Goodbye. Take care, everyone.”

Leciel said goodbye and left Rosenstark.

* * *

“Wow, we’ve finally arrived.”

Several young men and women got off the carriage, stretching their stiff bodies this way and that.

Among them, a particularly striking young man stood at the forefront, his radiant blond hair shining as if it had captured the sunlight itself.

His clear, deep blue eyes and sharp nose drew the sidelong glances of several female professors in the group.

It was clear that his influence was a significant factor in their decision to undertake this arduous journey.

However, Kasim’s attention was solely focused on the disheveled gray-haired assistant standing next to him.

“Well, what do you think! My hometown!”

This was the northwestern coastal city of Astoar.

It was the domain governed by Kasim’s father, Argon Pierre.

Though Argon had clutched his neck in exasperation upon hearing that his son was resigning from Rosenstark and returning home…

‘What can you do? After my brother’s death, I’m the only son left.’

Parents can’t win against their children.

Kasim smiled brightly, awaiting Pia’s impression.

“Hmm….”

Her gray eyes slowly scanned the winter coastal city.

The calm and quiet beach, the deep and cold blue sea, and the foam on its surface.

Finally, Pia noticed an old lighthouse at the edge of her vision and smiled broadly.

“It’s a good place to wait.”

‘He’ would return one day.

Those gathered here were certain of that.

They had an unwavering belief that ‘he’ would never abandon the world’s tragedies.

Waiting is less tedious when you are certain of the return.

Pia made a firm resolution.

She would lay a solid foundation for that eventual time.

* * *

“I will await your decision.”

With those words, Izaro left the inn with Maktania.

Izaro seemed to want to rest a bit, but Maktania dragged him out, saying, “Is this where our doppelganger wreaked havoc, in Lonkers?”

Even Nyhill was pulled along.

For a moment, I chuckled at their tourist-like behavior, but soon I was deep in thought.

‘…Humans who know of the doppelganger’s existence and have studied it.’

Izaro had briefly explained about the descendants of Namsov.

Their dwelling was in a remote area near the north.

They lived under a magical barrier, avoiding as much contact with the outside world as possible.

“The leader of the clan is Barrett Namsov, the son of Platooz Namsov.”

“Platooz’s son…? Wait. How old is he, exactly?”

“He’s well over three hundred years old.”

He was supposedly seventeen when the ‘gate’ opened.

I couldn’t help but be momentarily taken aback.

‘Even for a great mage, is that possible?’

Izaro said his level was equivalent to that of Larze, at the Beyond rank.

However, three hundred years old.

It was a lifespan far beyond normal comprehension.

“Over the years, Barrett has provided significant support to humanity from the shadows. The fact that the survivors of the First Age could achieve this level of civilization so quickly is not just due to Zero but also thanks to the Namsov family.”

“…Is that out of guilt?”

“Probably.”

Izaro’s voice was calm, indicating that Zero’s hatred for Namsov had not been passed on.

‘What kind of people are they?’

It was astonishing to think of those who, for such a long time, lived in seclusion out of guilt, supporting humanity.

Considering how easily ordinary human guilt becomes dulled under the rationalizations time imposes, it was remarkable.

“Anyway, whether you choose to develop with them or go to the demonic realm to fight is up to you.”

In the long term, meeting the Namsovs was the right choice.

It could accelerate my slowed growth and reveal unknown aspects of my origin, ???.

However, there was a concern.

I had no idea how much time it would take to grow and how effective it would be.

‘What if it turns out to be a waste of time?’

…Time was of the essence.

If I recovered and immediately headed to the demonic territory, I could provide tangible benefits to humanity.

Even if I couldn’t ally with human armies, I had grown strong enough to inflict significant damage on the demons alone.

‘Maybe I could even clear out a few demonic zones.’

That would reduce the supply of demonic energy, further delaying the Demon King’s return.

It seemed wise to buy time and then seek out the Namsov family.

…But recalling my conversation with Larze a few months ago made the decision difficult.

“I suddenly had this thought. What if the demons aren’t gathering demonic energy for the Demon King’s recovery?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s odd that they suddenly targeted the dragon sanctuary. What if they’re gathering such vast energy to reopen the ‘gate’?”

Larze explained simply.

In the past year, the demons had gathered demonic energy with all their might.

They planted numerous stakes and significantly increased production through various human sacrifices.

Humans naturally assumed it was for the Demon King’s recovery.

Since demonic energy was continuously transported to the lone Demon Castle, and there was no sign of the Demon Army’s recovery.

“But what if it was actually to reopen the gate… It poses a problem.”

“To reopen the gate, for what purpose?”

“For faster recovery, I suppose.”

The concentration of demonic energy in the demonic realm is higher than in the deepest parts of the demonic territory.

If the Demon King returns home to recover, his return would be much quicker.

I couldn’t help but harden my expression.

“…I know. It sounds like a hypothesis with little basis. But don’t you find it strange that there’s no sign of the Demon King, despite his injuries?”

“…….”

“Who knows? Given that the wound was inflicted by Ted Redymer at the cost of his life, it might be impossible to heal with the demonic energy of this world.”

If Larze’s hypothesis is true, going to the demonic territory to fight right now would be meaningless.

The correct choice would be to grow as much as possible in preparation for the Demon King’s return.

As Izaro said, the final outcome of this long war between humans and demons will ultimately be decided between the Demon King and me.

‘I must prepare for the final battle.’

…Of course, a year ago, I had a complacent thought that I could leave the fight against the Demon King to the children.

Using the knowledge stored in Ted Redymer’s eyes to nurture humanity’s geniuses to stand against the demons.

That was the original purpose.

But now, my thoughts have changed.

The savior’s destiny is one I must bear.

‘I need to be prudent. The choice I make now will change many things.’

…It was at the moment of deep contemplation that a change occurred, ending all these worries in an instant.

[What is this pathetic body?]

The voice came without any warning.

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Error occurred

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Error occurred

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Error occurred

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…….

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Simultaneously, comments took over my vision again.

I froze at the sudden voice resonating in my head.

[Who are you?]

Arrogant.

It was a voice that looked down on everything in this world.

It wasn’t just a simple statement; it was a force that dominated and controlled everything.

As I recalled that I had heard this voice before, chills ran down my spine.

▼

Activating emergency safety mechanism

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[Answer…]

Flick-

The voice disappeared as suddenly as a candle being blown out.

However, I couldn’t move from my spot in the room for a while.

A cold sweat dripped onto the floor.

‘Izaro said there was no way the consciousness of ??? could still be alive.’

It wasn’t a hallucination.

The unfamiliar and immense presence that surged explosively from within couldn’t have been a mere illusion.

‘Damn, the decision is made.’

I abruptly stood up from my seat.

.

.

.

“Izaro, let’s depart.”

Izaro looked at the Hero with deep, contemplative eyes during a brief silence.

“To where?”

The warrior’s gaze turned north.

Early winter’s fully chilly wind wrapped around their clothes as it passed by.

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