The World After Leaving the Hero’s Party

(Continued)

“…Sa…ge…?”

She wanted to call out in a pleasant tone, but what came out of her throat was a voice revealing her inner darkness, a pitiful tone filled with unease.

No, this wouldn’t do.

He would hate it.

Hyun Woo, who always said we should look positively toward the future, would hate to hear this kind of voice from me.

Just as I tried to clear my throat and speak again, Leoden raised his arm.

“It’s nearly time for the audience.”

Why was he stopping me?

Why was he standing in my way?

I had to say something now.

Who knew when he might disappear again?

He might vanish suddenly, just like before—or he might leave, resenting me for failing to kneel and apologize the moment we met.

So I had to do this now.

But the opportunity slipped away.

Because of one indifferent remark from the Sage—Hyun Woo.

My mind went blank, and my body froze.

His voice, which I hadn’t heard in so long, was too sweet.

His smile was so radiant.

I felt so small, like a shadow cowering from the sun’s brilliance, so insignificant in comparison to him.

In that moment, all I could do was stare at him helplessly.

I remembered nothing of what happened during the audience. The ink of his presence had splattered too strongly onto the blank canvas of my mind.

It had blotted out everything else.

Claire felt like a wanderer in the desert, parched and suffering, finally receiving a single sip of water in the form of the Sage. That sweetness was overwhelming, erasing all else.

And so, she couldn’t help but follow him.

Even though she should apologize.

Even though she deserved punishment for pushing her duties and responsibilities onto him.

Even though she needed to speak to him.

All she could do was quietly follow him.

As we arrived in front of his room, Hyun Woo spoke. This was it—a chance. A chance to apologize to him, to talk about the past, to get closer once again.

But

Standing before him, Claire was once again nothing more than a timid village girl. She couldn’t bring herself to say what was in her heart.

What should I say?

Where should I start?

The ink that had spread across her blank canvas was so vivid, so sweet, yet so painful.

Claire could only move her lips in silence, unable to utter a word, missing her chance once again.

Just as she always had.

When he finally went inside, Claire snapped back to her senses.

She had messed up again.

She had foolishly let the opportunity slip away.

Hyun Woo, who had just been right in front of her, was now gone.

The feeling of loss, like the bitter sadness of an oasis disappearing like a mirage, quickly consumed her with overwhelming dread.

No.

I can’t.

I can’t let him leave again like this.

She had no clear thoughts, no coherent memories.

Only desperation.

Like a scolded child babbling apologies to their parents, she poured out her fears and anxieties.

And hope answered as the door opened.

Ah.

You were always like this.

You were always there to save us.

You always held us together with that comforting smile of yours.

And even now, you’re here for me.

My strength drained away. Soothed by the sweet comfort he offered, I lost my words.

Yes. There’s no need to think about anything.

Forget my duties as a hero.

Right now, I’m just Claire, the village girl.

So.

Scold me.

Chastise me.

Tell me I was wrong and guide me once again.

It has to be you.

So, please…

She poured out her thoughts incoherently.

And he listened in silence.

Just as he always had.

Just as he had listened to our bitter complaints and tirades whenever things were hard, quietly accepting even the self-reproach he inflicted on himself for not protecting us.

After she had vented for a while, she looked at his face and realized.

Once again, she was burdening him.

Realizing this, she was about to apologize when the door opened.

Standing there was a young girl with striking red hair.

Unlike Claire’s rough appearance, she was refined, beautiful, a lovely, gentle-looking girl.

Lucille Ermeyer.

The daughter of the queen, and once someone who had attempted to draw the Hero’s Sword.

Once celebrated for her exceptional talent, a pride of the royal family.

But after Claire had drawn the Hero’s Sword, she had lost her confidence and reportedly secluded herself for a long time.

And now, she was speaking to him.

Calling him “teacher.”

That single word brought Claire back to reality, and as the hero, she could clearly see.

The Sage was smiling.

The way he had once smiled at them, now he was lifting Lucille up in the same way.

A wave of confusion swept over her.

Her mind blank, she didn’t know what to say or what to do.

In the meantime, Hyun Woo, having calmed the princess, left without a word, leaving Claire behind.

She simply stared after him, dumbfounded.

And in that moment, she unknowingly allowed a dark feeling, buried in a corner of her heart, to surface.

“…Why?”

I know I have no right.

I know that I can’t restore what I once had with you.

I know that place no longer belongs to me.

I know I can no longer expect your support, that your words mean we can never go back to how we were.

But Sage…

Why?

Why the princess?

Slowly, Claire lowered her head.

In her hand, the Hero’s Sword emitted a gentle glow.

Just as it had chosen her to be the hero, the sword continued to radiate a bright light in her hand.

Yes.

She was the hero.

She had slain the Demon King and was destined to be saved by the Sage.

That had always been the case.

But for the princess…

Surely, she didn’t share that special bond.

And yet.

—Crunch.

Her tightly clenched lip split again. As she tasted the bitter, metallic flavor of her own blood, Claire muttered to herself, her voice hollow and grim.

Why?

***

Escorted by the Sage, Lucille returned to her room feeling elated.

She wasn’t sure why.

No, in truth, she knew.

She just chose to ignore it, hiding behind the dignity expected of royalty.

After dismissing her maid, Lucille hugged her blanket tightly, smiling to herself as she remembered.

Just now.

The hero’s envious, resentful gaze as she had watched Lucille leave with the Sage.

The woman who had drawn the Hero’s Sword that Lucille had failed to claim.

And

The one who had lost this wonderful man, the Sage.

And because the Sage was now by her side.

She couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh of satisfaction.

Lucille shivered with a dark, wicked thrill, an indecent pleasure that no noble royal should ever experience.

She chuckled to herself again, unwittingly letting out a sound lacking in composure, as she recalled her gentle escort, the man who was now her teacher.

Just now.

The Sage, treating her—not the hero—with such kindness.

The man who had now become her “teacher.”

Ah.

Sage.

My teacher.

You truly are a sage, aren’t you?

You really are someone who can do everything.

From the beginning, you were destined to save me.

And someone like you…

I…

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