The World After Leaving the Hero’s Party

Just as I finished speaking, the body of the assassin I’d taken down earlier twitched.

And then—

Slash!

A single tentacle, tipped with a sharp blade, burst from his back, hurtling toward the unsuspecting Queen.

I lunged, severing the tentacle with a swift strike from my dagger.

The Queen, narrowly escaping death, looked at me with a stunned expression.

“A simple ‘thank you’ is fine, or even a nice staff.”

“In a situation like this, you’re still so calm… Still, thank you, Sage.”

“It was nothing. Are the other areas secure?”

The Queen’s life was just one target. In the game, attacks would break out elsewhere as well.

General Leoden nodded in response to my question.

“Come with me, Sage. We should check on the Princess. Men, guard Her Majesty!”

“Yes, sir!”

At Leoden’s command, the knights moved to escort the Queen back into her quarters, while the General and I made our way directly to Lucille’s room.

There, we found it.

Two corpses, both dressed in black.

And standing in front of the bodies, staff in hand and shielded by maids and knights Leoden had apparently sent, was Lucille Ermeyer.

“Princess!”

Lucille’s face cleared at the sound of Leoden’s anxious shout, and she ran. Not toward Leoden, though—toward me.

“M-Master…”

Gripping my robe, she shivered. She seemed thoroughly rattled by the sudden attack.

I gave Leoden a quick nod, signaling for him to manage the rest. He seemed a bit awkward as he turned and began to organize the maids and soldiers who had followed.

Meanwhile, I patted Lucille’s back to calm her, then moved to examine the assassins’ bodies.

There were traces of magic, but something else had delivered the killing blow—something all too familiar.

It was the mark of a sword strike I knew well.

“Was the Hero here?”

Lucille flinched. Trembling, she hesitated before giving me a small nod. General Leoden covered his face with his hand, exasperated.

“So the Hero… Well, it’s fortunate, I suppose. But, Princess, where did the Hero go? We didn’t see her near Her Majesty’s quarters.”

At Leoden’s question, Lucille glanced up at me, her eyes filled with an anxious vulnerability. Looking down, she replied softly.

“She thought there might be other trouble… so she went to check. She heard that the Master had protected the Queen, so…”

“That’s some comfort, then. Very well. Men, clear this area. And Sage, could you stay with the Princess? She seems rather shaken.”

That wasn’t a problem. I had my own questions, after all.

“Why did the Hero come here? Did something happen?”

Lucille didn’t respond. Or rather, it seemed she didn’t know how to answer.

Lost in thought, she eventually bowed her head and whispered, “…Nothing happened.”

With such a crestfallen expression, who would believe her?

Something clearly had happened.

—

There was a girl with beautiful red hair.

She held the most noble status in the kingdom.

But with such status came inevitable loneliness.

Even so, she was not in a position to reveal her solitude.

Her father had passed away before she’d even come to know the world.

Her mother, who had taken her father’s place as ruler, was the kingdom’s center—a figure who resolved the monstrous threats and countless issues plaguing the land.

Having so few people who could understand her as an equal, it was only natural that she would turn to fairy tales.

Fairy tales were different from the stifling world where everyone feared her as a princess.

In those stories, Lucille Ermeyer, the Princess of the kingdom, became the Hero.

A savior who wielded a sword bestowed only upon the chosen one, saving people across the land.

Living a life surrounded by gratitude and warmth.

The life she longed for most could be found within those pages.

And wasn’t that glorious sword—right there, visible from the center of the royal capital—a link between the world of fairy tales and reality?

Though she could hardly remember it, the ritual she attended hand-in-hand with her busy mother had left a deep impression on her, becoming her cherished ideal.

She wanted to wield that sword.

She wanted to be the owner of that sword.

To become a Hero and save the world.

For a girl prone to loneliness, it was only natural to dream of becoming a Hero.

And, in her case, it wasn’t impossible.

She was rich in the royal bloodline’s gifts.

She was skilled in swordsmanship, in magic.

She had a brilliant mind.

All of these were the qualities of a Hero.

And these qualities…

That confidence…

Shattered on the day she secretly slipped out of the palace to attempt to lift the Hero’s sword.

It was a tradition of the kingdom.

Anyone was granted the chance to draw the Hero’s sword.

No matter their age, gender, status, or wealth, everyone had the right to try.

So, like everyone else, Lucille climbed the platform that day—and failed.

In that moment, she realized it.

She wasn’t destined to be a Hero.

For someone like her, who had only ever dreamed of becoming the Hero, that failure was utterly crushing.

Since that day, she withdrew from the world.

She hid away, burdened by the unbearable weight of being a failure.

Years later, while she was still confined in her room, she heard of someone who had successfully drawn the Hero’s sword. The news that this person was coming to the palace left her breathless.

For someone who still hadn’t moved on from her own failure, the Hero’s arrival…

The appearance of a victor, so different from herself, was unbearable.

Yet, as a princess, she couldn’t avoid meeting the Hero. And that day, she understood.

She would never surpass the Hero.

They were utterly different.

Here she was, defeated, self-esteem shattered.

A disgrace, lying in the mud.

And then there was Claire, radiant like the sun, basking in everyone’s praise and blessings.

Knowing her own darkness, Lucille avoided Claire, spiraling further into despair.

But now, things are different.

As she walked through the hallway, Lucille felt a pleasant fatigue.

Well, maybe not entirely pleasant.

Her first quest today had been challenging and exhausting, something entirely new to her.

Still.

It was better than being alone in her room.

“Heh…”

A small smile curled up her lips.

The Sage truly was an incredible person.

Not only had he pulled her out of her self-imposed isolation, but he was helping her chip away at her sense of failure.

He accepted her, reassured her, told her she was worthy.

To her, still floundering in that filthy swamp, he’d extended a hand as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

“Hehe…”

A maid by her side cleared her throat softly. Realizing her smile was slipping into something unrefined, Lucille nodded, lightly covering her mouth.

But she couldn’t stop.

The events of the day kept replaying in her mind.

‘Oh… Master’s music… it was so wonderful.’

The cool breeze.

The delicious sandwiches.

The juice that refreshed her weary body after battling so many boar-like monsters.

And the Sage’s lute performance—better than all of it.

There were many people at the park that day, yet…

In that moment, it felt as if only she and the Sage existed in the world.

That memory…

It was starting to eclipse the dark and painful recollections that had plagued her.

As Lucille walked back to her room, savoring the sweetness of the day, she realized something unusual.

For the first time since entering the palace, she wore a genuine smile.

Because a woman stood waiting outside her room.

“…Princess. May I speak with you for a moment?”

The woman, whose beauty had struck Lucille from the first time they met—

And who had “lost” her—

Was looking at Lucille with slightly clouded, reddish-brown eyes. Lucille gave a small nod.

Yes, it was time they had a talk.

If this were in the past, back when she was drowning in inferiority and resentment, she might not have been able to meet her gaze.

But now…

Things were different.