The Hero Who Returned From Death Quits

18 – EP2. A Night of Love

I rolled the amethyst in my palm and whistled.

I felt good about the unexpected income I received a few days ago.

Yeah, now that I’m a hero, it wouldn’t hurt to get a souvenir on the way back to my hometown, would it?

I won’t have much reason to fight anymore, but it will still come in handy when I do.

I hesitated on how to handle the amethyst, and I ended up sticking it into the black sword. Oh, it looks pretty.

I took off my armor and put the sword into the spatial pocket. I may not have reached enlightenment, but magic was still quite useful.

Count Serindel’s pursuit is still ongoing, but to be honest, I’m not that scared.

He was a Swordmaster, but I had achieved a level of Swordmaster long ago, just like him. I just didn’t reach the same heights as a saint.

I soon let go of such concerns and left the territory of the black sorcerers, feeling invigorated after killing the band of thieves just moments ago.

And my steps were drawn to a summoning circle left in my mind by the black sorcerers that had been bothering me for the past few days.

A memory from a few days ago suddenly popped into my mind.

…What was I trying to summon in the first place?

No matter how hard I tried to brush it away in my mind, the memory and curiosity stubbornly tortured me.

Fine, I can’t ignore it. Let’s try to recall the reason.

Usually, when you summon beings from other realms, you summon spirits. With their immense elemental powers, they could even overturn mountains and sink islands when they reach the level of Elemental Kings.

Or sometimes, I’ve heard that even angelic messengers known as angels are summoned on occasion.

However, I couldn’t even sense what it was trying to summon.

Well, since the summon itself was incomplete, it was almost impossible to recognize, so to speak.

However, that summoning circle somehow lingered in the corner of my mind, still bothering me.

I took out a thin booklet that had been in their base.

…There, the names, scale, and headquarters of the black magicians who had just been killed and were collaborating were written.

Even the largest organization was right next to my hometown, except for Grandidis.

The most powerful black magicians gathered in a group that was adjacent to just a small territory.

…Just thinking about it made me uncomfortable.

I threw the book back into the spatial void. I didn’t like being bothered by random thoughts.

…

The sound of victory reports reached Huangdo after a long time.

In the battle to defend the Empire’s main fortress, the hero not only defended the fortress, but also actively took down the enemy’s corps and their commander, annihilating them completely.

All of his strategies came from the hero’s mind, and it was revealed that he even single-handedly delayed time against the enemy’s commander. The entire Empire praised the hero’s name.

They said there had never been anyone who had shown their abilities so quickly among the previous heroes, and even the religious sect elevated the hero’s name.

“…Therefore, grant the title of Leonhardt to the hero Einzel, may peace and victory always accompany him on his path.”

The emperor, adorned in magnificent clothing and jewelry, with silver beard and wrinkled skin, spoke from his throne.

In a grand hall adorned with all sorts of jewels and marble, he knelt down and received the title.

Countless people dressed in various glamorous jewels and clothes surrounded him, watching as he received the title.

Leonhardt. The surname meaning “the one who possesses the heart of a lion” in ancient language, signifying someone as brave as a lion.

He lowered his head and quietly laughed to himself.

Brave? Who? Was it this idiot who couldn’t even properly defeat a single enemy and succumbed to pain and fear like a hero?

He mocked himself with disdain.

In any case, the hero was invited to all sorts of banquets and celebrations, and he showed the noble and dignified appearance people expected of a hero.

Even among the imperial citizens, the hero, who was not even a noble, came to be seen as a descendant of a forgotten royal family, and people praised the grand appearance of him and his comrades wherever they went.

In the midst of those celebrations, Einzel celebrated his birthday and turned seventeen, slightly older than Sain, whose birthday was a little earlier.

“Damn it.”

After the fifth celebration marking the hero’s birthday came to an end, he emptied his glass alone and muttered.

“They all just call me this or that.”

Einzel scowled.

Living as a cursed being who couldn’t even die as he pleased, he was receiving all sorts of blessings and praises from others.

Keeping the etiquette was not difficult. It was just a matter of using what I memorized according to the situation.

The only thing that tormented him was attending such occasions.

He still remembers death. He still remembers pain. He still remembers fear.

But, still forcing himself to stand in front of people

Laugh

Deceive

Laugh

Deceive again. As if he has a place in the midst of glory and joy, like an oblivious winner who knows no pain.

What for?

They didn’t pay the cost of their own lives.

They enjoyed the results obtained from the many lives that fell on their land, while being far away in a safe place.

Is it my concern to care about how they find peace in their hearts?

Actually, even his own heart is lost, searching for a lighthouse. Should he laugh, chat, and enjoy in front of those seeds who ignore the pain on the front lines and doubt themselves, saying, “We will definitely win!”?

Are they giving sweet words and parties celebrating their birthdays, knowing anything

As he contemplated the existence of that pain, various forms of agony rapidly took root in his body.

It began with the sensation of his bones shattering, as if he had died.

The feeling of being devoured whole with arms and legs broken, the sensation of being pierced by a knife, the sensation of being burned.

After these ten thousand sensations had thoroughly scoured his body, not even the strength to move a single finger remained.

It seemed to be getting more familiar, yet no matter how much he felt, it was still excruciating.

He deliberately writhed his body.

Ah, this is terrible. His arm isn’t moving because he’s feeling the sensation of it being torn off.

He focused his mind on a single nerve again. Good, it twitched.

He completed his rehabilitation from the major to minor areas like this.

Honestly, it was quite absurd.

While others felt pain as their existing arm disappeared, why was he experiencing the pain of a nonexistent arm coming into being?

After regaining his senses and control, he stared blankly at the ceiling.

He imagined grabbing the collar of the god who chose him.

But that imagination was interrupted by a knock from a maid who appeared from somewhere.

“Come in.”

She had brown hair and appeared to be around his age.

Now that he thought about it, he had risen from his hometown to the empire with similar-aged servants.

Was this what success meant to him? Was this what he had desired, success?

Well, it didn’t bring much joy.

He stopped his absurd thoughts and looked into her eyes.

“What is it?”

The maid handed him a sealed letter.

As he opened the letter, he saw a letterhead decorated with intricate patterns and a faint golden lion.

It was the emblem of the Rudaran family.

The Rudarans were the greatest warriors in the empire, the family of his comrade, Sein.

What could the Rudarans want from him?

He raised an eyebrow and unfolded the letter.

…It was a random invitation.

His birthday had passed a few days ago, so why an invitation now?

No, it wasn’t even a party, just an invitation to meet.

“Is there something else to say?”

He shrugged his shoulders.