Thud-!
“Really… Really…!”
Sunburnt, tawny hands wrapped around Shiron’s pale hands. Coarse beards adorned the tear-brimming face.
“On behalf of all the citizens of Brahham, I extend our gratitude. How can we ever repay this kindness…!”
“It was nothing. I only did what needed to be done.”
Shiron replied with a refreshing smile, facing the middle-aged man’s unsightly sobbing. Despite it not being a pleasant sight, Shiron responded with a genuine smile rather than mere formality.
That’s because Shiron felt an indescribable irony in this situation itself.
At the Hero’s Abode,
Shiron had cremated the body of Kyrie, the source of the holy power protecting Brahham. Not only that, but over a thousand guards were annihilated, leaving the city without anyone to maintain order.
As a result, Brahham was unable to properly respond to the massive undead outbreak. As a vile magic flowed through the streets and screams spread from every corner,Shiron’s group, emitting brilliant light, eradicated all the undead in the city center.
“Brahham is a holy land where Kyrie’s tomb is located. How could we simply watch the disaster unfold?”
Shiron, looking at the moved official and the distant citizens of Brahham, felt a profound connection.
“That’s not all. During our pilgrimage, I realized how beautiful the city of Brahham is, and I couldn’t bear to see the citizens, who have long protected and maintained Kyrie’s mausoleum, suffer at the hands of the wicked undead.”
“You are… like a savior sent by the Lord himself.”
The official, holding back tears, began to cry. He felt immense gratitude toward the man who appeared in the absence of the guard capable of stopping the undead.
Originally, not only the guards who were supposed to protect the city were missing, but even the priests, who could emit powerful holy power, were unable to deal with the undead.
This calamity also brought to light a man who was not only powerful but also possessed proper eloquence and character—a flawless hero.
“If you insist on rewarding me, I would like to ask for generous support in rebuilding and defending Brahham. Restoring this beautiful city to its rightful state is all I wish for.”
It was insincere. Shiron had no sympathy for a race that not only exploited Kyrie’s fame for their own gain but also committed unforgivable acts for more wealth and glory.
Despite that, the citizens of Brahham teared up in gratitude.
Although some suspected the foreigner who suddenly appeared to be the cause of this terrible disaster, such opinions were quickly suppressed, and those who voiced them were harshly criticized.
The light emitted by Shiron in defeating the undead was so bright and divine that it inspired awe in those who saw it.
‘Someone who emits such warm light could not possibly do such a thing.’
Though rejecting the reward and expressing concern for Brahham did not significantly impact the citizens, ultimately, no one felt ungrateful.
After declining countless handshakes of gratitude, Shiron returned to his room.
“How about that, wasn’t it quite satisfactory?”
Shiron spoke to the empty room, appearing to an outsider as if he was talking to himself. However, the subject of his conversation was indeed present.
“…Even after gaining so much favorable sentiment from many people, my penalty points have hardly decreased.”
Out of nowhere, Latera peeked her head out. Fully materialized, she stood on the ground with a seriously contemplative expression.
“Well, maybe it’s because it wasn’t a true good deed, so shall we hold off on judging for now?”
“Do I really need to reverse the penalty points? I don’t feel inconvenienced by them. If anything, I’ve only benefited.”
Sitting down, Shiron met Latera at eye level.
“I’ve safely brought you along, and Kyrie’s body is no longer there. There’s no need to enter the Hero’s Abode anymore, right?”
“Still…”
“The more penalty points you accumulate, the less likely it is to encounter an apostle unexpectedly. Unless there’s a significant benefit that outweighs this tremendous advantage, I might not be able to comply with your request.”
“…Do you remember the blessing I gave you?”
Latera hung her head low and fiddled with her fingers. Mentioning that one could go to heaven at the end of life seemed pointless to Shiron, who valued the present life far more.
“Of course, I remember. There were hardly any times I didn’t receive help from the blessing.”
“That makes things easier for me!”
Latera, patting her chest, slowly smiled.
“Do you remember when I said I wanted to be a great angel like my senior?”
“…Yes.”
“My senior was a grand guardian angel. Among angels, she had the highest rank, able to bestow many more blessings than me, and also grant multiple blessings simultaneously.”
“…What does that have to do with these penalty points?”
“The greater the hero becomes, the higher my rank rises as well.”
Latera continued with a serious expression.
“Currently, I can only bestow three blessings, but as the hero’s fame spreads across the continent, and you become stronger, I too will ascend to a higher rank of angel.”
“…”
According to Latera, there were two choices: increase the number of blessings to become stronger or avoid apostles for safety.
‘Nothing ever goes smoothly.’
Shiron wanted to take care of both, but unfortunately, reality forced him to choose one. There were other concerning elements, not least of which was the senior Latera mentioned again rising to the surface.
‘It bothers me.’
It wasn’t that Shiron didn’t trust Latera. It was just that the existence called “senior” was too elusive, having meddled here and there, which was unsettling.
Latera trusted this senior completely, but Shiron couldn’t muster any goodwill towards this enigmatic figure.
It was she who had handed the holy sword to Kyrie, playing a role in the founding of the Prient family. This person had instructed Latera to wait in the Hero’s house for 500 years, had constructed the Hero’s house, and had entombed Kyrie’s body there.
Feeling goodwill was impossible. While Latera seemed to harbor unconditional goodwill towards this senior, in reality, all the troubles Latera faced stemmed from the senior.
“I want to meet that… angel you call ‘senior.’”
Shiron voiced his thoughts directly to Latera. Keeping doubts to himself was not in Shiron’s nature. Upon hearing Shiron’s words, Latera’s face lit up with a broad smile, and she began to speak.
“That’s wonderful! When I become an angel to be proud of, the senior said she would come to congratulate me!”
“Is there no way to meet her now? Even if we can’t talk, I’d like to at least exchange letters.”
“…I’m sorry, but that might not be possible.”
Latera’s gaze fell.
“I haven’t been in contact with the senior for 500 years. I’ve tried… but it was impossible.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Shiron clicked his tongue and rose from his chair.
“Are you certain she will come to visit if you become an archangel?”
“…I can guarantee it.”
Latera, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, conjured a book out of thin air. It was brown.
“Because… the senior promised me. We pinky swore and even made a stamp…”
Latera began flipping through the book.
“See? We even wrote a pledge.”
“…?”
Shiron peered closely as Latera showed him the book.
[For Hyunjun, whom I always want to see.]
Shiron recognized a familiar phrase on the last page. He sleepily handed the book back to Latera.
“Can you tell me what it says?”
“You’re not illiterate, are you?”
“Just read it, quickly.”
Under Shiron’s insistent urging, Latera shrugged.
“…To Latera, whom I always want to see. I hope you become a great guardian angel soon… That’s it.”
“Is that really what it says?”
“Yes, it is! Don’t you trust me?”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you…”
Shiron rubbed his dry eyes.
“I just can’t trust my eyes.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just, there’s such a thing.”
Shiron playfully answered and roughly tousled Latera’s hair.
“I’ll try to erase the penalty points.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it’s clearer now what I should do rather than weighing uncertain things.”
“You made a good choice! I knew the hero would do just that!”
Latera jumped in place with a beaming smile. After enjoying the moment of the girl’s happiness, Shiron coughed to shift attention.
“Before that, let’s go out somewhere tonight.”
“…Where?”
A few days later.
In the capital of the Rien Empire, Rien.
At Hugo’s mansion, particularly in the annex’s backyard, a small construction project was underway.
Thump-!
“…Is this enough?”
Shiron looked up at the giant stele towering over him. The white rectangular prism, shadowed by trees, gave a different feel from a grave.
[For Hyunjun, whom I always want to see.]
Shiron caressed the engraved letters on the stele with a frown.
‘…I might be able to meet her.’
It wasn’t during the game’s production but her direct involvement here. Realizing this, Shiron couldn’t simply leave or overlook his friend’s traces.
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