Mayfield first asked for the full story.
That day—a painful memory that had to be faced eventually—the circumstances before and after the demon race massacre. Just how had Egru managed to return from death?
“Of course I can tell you, miss. But truthfully, even I’m not quite sure what happened…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll listen and make my own judgment. Can you tell me everything from beginning to end?”
Mayfield pulled her chair closer and handed over a glass of water.
“W-well then…”
After moistening his throat with a few sips of water, Egru gathered his thoughts before speaking. Given everything that had happened, the story went on for quite some time. From meeting his long-lost brother to encounters with the Pope and Levian, his dog friend and the demons he had met at the dump…
“T-truthfully, I don’t remember much of what happened in the underground waterway. After Jabel fed me the cheese, everything became hazy…”
“I see.”
“But one thing is certain.”
Egru’s brow furrowed slightly.
“I think I definitely died once, miss.”
Egru explained his firsthand experience of the afterlife.
An otherworldly space where light and darkness coexisted simultaneously. The moments he spent with his dog in the depths of that abyssal eye.
Mayfield listened calmly, conveying complete trust in Egru’s words. With this reassurance, Egru felt more comfortable continuing his explanation.
“There, I saw D-D’Élysée die.”
“D’Élysée—your brother? Could it have been a hallucination?”
“Yes, probably. B-but it felt so real, and even though I tried to stop it, it kept…”
His voice grew thick with emotion.
“D’Élysée right before my eyes…”
“Don’t worry, Egru. It was just a hallucination. D’Élysée is fine. I’ll vouch for that.”
Mayfield wiped Egru’s eyes with her sleeve.
“How could something like that happen?”
“W-well…”
Egru slowly opened his mouth. To explain about the mysterious collection of text—the status window. However, what came out was only a rigid warning message.
“This statement is subject to censorship.”
“Egru?”
“Huh?”
Looking confused, Egru tried speaking several more times.
“This statement is subject to censorship. This statement is subject to censorship. This statement is…”
“Wait, it’s okay, Egru.”
“M-miss! That’s! What I want to say isn’t this! This statement is subject to censorship!”
“You can stop now. Let’s start with some deep breaths. That’s right.”
After calming the flustered Egru, Mayfield picked up her communication device. Shortly after, a door opened on the far side of the hall.
“I’m sorry for calling you away when you’re busy, my dear.”
“Anything for my wife.”
Mayfield had called for Röweghor through the communication device. For matters concerning magic, she thought the king of demons would know better than herself, being from the Empire.
“Would you try explaining again, Egru?”
Mayfield gently instructed as Röweghor appeared. Egru sniffled, then opened his trembling lips.
“This statement is subject to censorship. This statement is subject to censorship. This statement is…”
“Hmm,” Röweghor stroked his chin.
“Seems like a type of Forbidden Speech curse. Though I’ve never seen one quite like this.”
“Is that so?”
“I can’t detect any flow of magical power in the surroundings. Yet if he’s repeating the same words, it suggests something beyond magical effects…”
“Should we look through the royal archives? It might hold the key to understanding his resurrection.”
“That won’t be necessary. Not to brag, but I have every book in the royal collection memorized.”
Röweghor shrugged slightly, subtly conscious of Egru’s presence.
“This statement is subject to censorship…”
Egru tilted his head and mumbled like a parrot.
“How about trying paper and pen?”
At Röweghor’s suggestion, Mayfield quickly prepared paper and pen.
“Just write what you know? Don’t worry about spelling mistakes.”
“Yes, miss…”
Egru picked up the pen with determination, but the result was the same. He repeatedly wrote the same sentence in crooked handwriting.
[This statement is subject to censorship. This statement is…]
The spelling was even perfect. As if some third party force had intervened.
“I-I’m sorry…”
“Don’t worry too much. It’s enough that we’ve learned there’s interference from an incomprehensible being.”
Mayfield comforted Egru, who looked ready to sink into the floor.
“Will you tell me the next part of the story, Egru?”
“Yes, miss…”
Egru nodded dejectedly. He seemed quite dispirited, perhaps thinking he hadn’t been helpful.
The story resumed, following the path from the Well of Origins, through the slave market he had been swept into, and finally to the Demon Federation.
As the long tale came to an end, Mayfield pondered deeply.
The answer to everything lay in the one thing Egru couldn’t speak about. If that was the case, wouldn’t it be fine as long as Egru didn’t say it directly?
“Egru, what do you call the thing you were trying to explain just now?”
“This statement is subject to censorship…”
“I see. Then is it okay if I call it ‘gamma’?”
“Y-yes. Yes, miss.”
Egru’s lips quivered a few times before breaking into a bright smile.
“That seems to be fine.”
“Then why do you think gamma showed you your brother’s death and brought you back to life?”
“I-I’m not really sure, but…”
Egru continued his explanation with an uncertain expression.
“I think I might be the Hero.”
“The Hero?”
It was Röweghor who questioned this with an expression of disbelief. He looked Egru up and down before shaking his head.
“These days everyone wants to be a Hero. This is why we need to control those minstrels who distort history.”
“Dear.”
At Mayfield’s intervention, Röweghor sighed and continued.
“What I mean, Egru, is that I acknowledge your remarkable achievements at the demon massacre site. But to become a Hero… I’m sorry, but I don’t see any exceptional magical power or martial talent in you. At least not now.”
Röweghor stepped closer to Egru.
“From your story, it seems you were able to come back to life thanks to intervention from an incomprehensible being. Moreover, you appear unable to control this phenomenon yourself, is that correct?”
“Y-yes…”
“Let me tell you the reality. I’m saying this for your own good.”
Röweghor spoke in a cold tone.
“A Hero is someone born with the mission to save the world. People often say they’re chosen by legend and follow heavenly prophecies. But that’s wrong. Heroes are nothing but masses of narrow-minded contradictions.”
Röweghor frowned as if disgusted.
“Those who run wild claiming to do good without clear purpose are mere dangerous elements. What do you intend to move forward for?”
“Th-that is…!”
Egru swallowed hard before answering.
“To prevent the end of the world…!”
At those words, Röweghor covered his face and sighed.
“Please don’t tell me you’re also a heretic who believes in nonsensical doomsday theories.”
“Dear.”
Mayfield grabbed Röweghor’s hand.
“I believe Egru’s words.”
“You know how it is outside. A world crawling with frauds claiming to be Heroes. This could even put her at risk from those bearing grudges.”
“Thank you for your cooperation. I’ll explain the rest slowly myself.”
It was a calm dismissal. Heavy silence filled the vast hall for a while.
“As a final courtesy to my wife’s friend, let me warn you.”
Röweghor left with these cryptic parting words.
“A Hero isn’t someone to look up to. Even the First Hero ultimately fell into depravity as a ruthless mass murderer.”
***
“Egru! Egru!”
Mayfield kept calling to Egru, who was lost in thought. Egru snapped back to attention and turned to Mayfield.
“My lady…”
“Let me apologize for him, Egru. He may seem stubborn, but he has his reasons. I’ll scold him later, so will you forgive him?”
“N-no, I think I spoke too lightly. It should have been something to consider much more carefully…”
“What are you saying? You just answered the question I asked. If that was wrong, I should be the one being scolded.”
Mayfield snorted before looking out the window.
“It’s already getting late. We’ll continue the lessons tomorrow. Let’s have dinner and get some rest for today.”
“Y-yes, miss…”
With Röweghor’s absence, Egru and Mayfield finished dinner alone. After returning to her room, Egru reassured the worried-looking Mayfield before sending her away.
Becoming a Hero really is difficult after all.
Recalling the afternoon’s events, Egru couldn’t sleep for a long while. Röweghor’s words kept echoing in his mind.
Why did the First Hero do such terrible things?
Moonlight poured through the window, which was open about a hand’s width.
Can I become a Hero?
With that uncertain thought, Egru fell into a deep sleep.
“Mmm…”
Though he felt a strange tickling sensation in his lower body, he couldn’t overcome the wave of drowsiness that finally overtook him.
With a soft rustle, someone’s hand slowly pulled down Egru’s pajama pants.