“You are a descendant of the Hero.”
“You are fated to save this world.”
“The strongest Hero who knows no defeat.”
They were words my parents told me since I was young.
But I know.
I am not such a grand or great being.
I am... just...
.
.
.
Mel silently looked down at Hansen, who had been cleaved in two horizontally.
“So, what now?”
This guy was a hidden operative, belonging to the lowest ranks even among the Abyssal followers. Even when he had infiltrated the Black Knights and laid low, he hadn’t held a very high position, and since he had been driven out five years ago—in other words, this guy who had already failed—his position couldn’t be higher than Hansen’s in the novel, only lower.
I had wanted to take him alive if possible and extract some information, but...
“Judging by the state of grace he’s received, it seems he wasn’t properly refined either. ...As expected.”
Mel pulled a blackish-red orb from the dead Hansen’s chest.
“As red as blood or as black as darkness. Something this murkily black-red is completely low-grade essence, isn’t it?”
A crystallization of mana that the Abyssal followers carried around.
In that novel, it was a dangerous item called ‘Abyssal Essence.’
Naturally, it was a prohibited item for which one could receive severe punishment merely for possessing, even in the Academy, indeed the entire Empire.
“So in the end, he was just a disposable pawn. Is that a relief?”
If he had activated this, things wouldn’t have ended this easily.
No, even if I could have ended it easily, I wasn’t confident I could resolve it quietly.
His body would have collapsed with the suddenly amplified abyssal mana, and he would have become an ‘Abyssal Spawn’ that scattered dangerous abyssal mana in all directions, destroying the surroundings.
“The lead has been cut.”
Mel sighed, recalling the reality that if he had still been the chief butler, he could have mobilized the Seronis household’s information network, but he was now an unemployed, jobless young man.
Then that meant he would have to smash these guys every time they appeared, targeting the Hero...
“Can such a weakling of a Hero block the threats that will come rushing in and save the world?”
Mel lifted the fallen Azelan with a worried heart.
To collapse so futilely against Sithne. To fall over after just that much of a fight?
“I should have known when you collapsed from stamina and mana exhaustion. For a man to be this frail. ...Huh?”
The moment Mel lifted Azelan, he felt something strange.
The description of Azelan, the Hero and protagonist of that novel, was definitely...
‘Tall and solidly built like a man, a handsome young man’—wasn’t that how it went?
“Why does this kid have breasts? Did the Hero have gynecomastia or something?”
A height slightly shorter than Sithne, whom he had served.
The curves of a slender waist.
Perhaps the bandages wrapped around the chest had come loose during the fierce battle, for there were pert, raised breasts.
The face of the unconscious Azelan was clearly...
“...A woman?”
It was in that moment.
Azelan’s blue pupils, now regaining consciousness, met Mel’s dark eyes.
Azelan realized that a strange man was holding her, and that his hand was placed on her chest.
“Uu... hngh!”
Azelan’s sapphire-like eyes rapidly welled up with tears.
“W-wait!”
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
A high, sharp soprano scream rang out thunderously.
“—Over here!”
“—That mana flare from just now is confirmed! Over here!”
“—Boom!”
Voices came from nearby, and flames burst in the sky.
Realizing that it was a signal flare frequently used by the Black Lion Knights, Mel noticed that the Black Lions were nearby.
If they discovered him...
“Kyaaa... mmph!”
Mel stuffed a handkerchief into Azelan’s screaming mouth, gagging her.
And hoisting Azelan over his shoulder, he immediately departed from the scene.
.
.
.
“Mm, mmmph!”
The Hero Azelan glared at Mel with teary eyes.
But there was nothing she could do.
Because her body was bound by rope in some unknown house.
“Who are you?”
Mel directed his own question at Azelan.
“Azelan the Hero was definitely male, right? There definitely wasn’t a TS tag on it either?
To pull such a fatal genre drift in reality, not even in a novel?
You can’t even count this as 5,700 characters here?”
Seeing Mel confused and spouting incomprehensible words, Azelan trembled.
“Hey, answer me... Ah, right!”
Mel belatedly remembered that he had gagged Azelan with a handkerchief, and reached into her mouth to pull out the damp handkerchief.
And...!
“Kyaaah!”
She screamed again, but unlike before, Mel didn’t stop her at all.
“I’ve already spread a soundproof barrier with mana, so the sound in here won’t leak out.
Besides, a real Hero wouldn’t scream like that, and they would have already broken the mana meridians I sealed with pressure points.”
“...!”
At Mel’s words, Azelan tried to manipulate the faintly remaining mana within her body, but the mana didn’t budge at all.
“This sword is definitely the Hero’s sword, ‘Argent of White Silver’... Is this a fake too? Should I break it?”
Mel spoke thus and picked up Azelan’s sword.
It was in that moment.
“Don’t touch my Older Brother Azelan’s keepsake!”
“...Keepsake?”
Mel turned his gaze to the woman who had referred to Azelan as her older brother.
“It’s my one and only older brother’s keepsake. Please... don’t touch it. Please... anything but that...! Huaaah!”
The one crying so frailly was Azelan—or rather, his younger sister.
Mel knew the name of the crying girl.
The past of the Hero Azelan.
It’s common to mention the protagonist’s sad and rough childhood past, and later say these exact words to a younger harem member.
‘You resemble my younger sister. That’s why I’m protecting you. I couldn’t protect her back then, but this time, I’ll definitely protect you!’
Hitting them with a typical line, making them fall head over heels, and thus increasing the harem members...
Anyway, the Hero Azelan did have such a past.
His hometown village definitely perished, attacked by monsters or evildoers along with his family...
A past where the Hero thus embarked on his journey.
In the story, she had died long ago.
Mel uttered the name of the twin younger sister that the Hero Azelan had rarely mentioned in the story.
“...Aze...lia?”
“...How do you know my name?”
To the questioning of Azelan—no, Azelia—which carried the meaning of affirmation, Mel slumped down into a chair without answering.
The Hero Azelan is dead.
Mel had received so many shocks today.
And among them, this was undoubtedly the biggest shock.
There is no Azelan, the Hero who would save this world.
Then who on earth would block the Abyssal followers who would come rushing in from now on?
No, before that, what about the Seronis household and the villainess young lady Sithne, who were fated to fall into ruin, corrupted by the Abyssal followers?
The one who would resolve all of that was the Hero Azelan, and yet
he is said to be already dead.
The evidence was the sword the Hero had wielded, which would one day awaken into a holy sword, but was now a mere keepsake—‘White Silver Sword Argent’—and
Azelan’s younger sister Azelia, who was far more frail than the Hero.
“So in the end, is this a ruin ending—no, an apocalypse ending—like this?”
He had moved to this Academy territory just to save his miserable life, but
if there was no Hero to resolve things, this place was by no means safe either.
No, rather, this place would probably be the first to perish.
Thinking thus, Mel sat in the chair, completely deflated.
“Excuse me...”
Azelia called out to Mel, who was slumped before her, muttering incomprehensible words.
“30 years in my previous life, maybe 15 this time? Even combined it’s not even 50 years? Could the next one be seven and a half? Wow, I’ve finally passed half a century. Wow...”
In place of an answer, only Mel’s incomprehensible muttering returned.
“Excuse me... Mister?”
“I’m 23 here... No, combined it’s over 40, so is mister right? It probably is. Whatever, oppa or mister, I’m going to die soon anyway...”
“Mister!”
Mel turned his gaze at Azelia’s call, her voice raised sharply.
“...Why are you calling me? You frail Hero impostor?”
Azelia felt déjà vu upon seeing Mel’s gaze filled with disappointment.
The moment she faced that gaze again, so similar to the one the daughter of the Sword Duke had sent her when she was defeated...
“Pweeeeeng!”
Unable to endure the sorrow welling up from deep in her chest, Azelia burst into tears once more.
“I’m in a situation where I want to cry too, but what did you do right to be squeezing out juice? At least if you were a fruit, you’d be refreshing.”
“B-But~! I’m not strong like my older brother! Hnngh!
I know too. *Hiccup!* I only inherited the Hero’s bloodline, but unlike my older brother, I’m not even worth half a penny!
Hnngh! But what can I do when nothing works no matter how hard I try!! Pweeeeng!”
At Mel’s merciless words, Azelia became even more sorrowful and began to wail, unable to merely cry.
Mel, listening to Azelia’s sorrowful crying, suddenly sprang up from his seat.
‘Wait. She knows she’s of the Hero’s bloodline?’
Uncountable as the times were, Mel felt a sense of dissonance in Azelia’s words.
‘Surely, for that guy Azelan, finding out that he inherited the Hero’s blood was supposed to happen much later?’
It was a cliché often used as an element to show the protagonist’s unique denseness in harem romance fantasy novels,
already knowing the Hero’s bloodline—a piece of foreshadowing widely used in many aspects, such as why enemies targeted him, and the element of mental awakening upon learning one’s lineage or origin.
Right from the starting point of the story.
“Hey, how do you already know your bloodline from the start? Answer me...”
Mel tried to raise Azelia’s head and ask, but stopped.
“*Hiccup!*”
“Ugh.. What a mess.”
Her eyes were swollen from how much she had cried.
She had cried thunderously, pouring out not just tears but snot too,
and since she was bound by rope, she couldn’t even wipe her tears and snot,
so even with her pretty face, she was in quite a state.
Mel, seeing Azelia’s face like that, took out a handkerchief and wiped her tears.
“There, *sniff!*”
“*Sniff! Hiccup!*”
After having her blow her runny nose and wiping it as well, finishing up, he brought a chair and sat before her, continuing his question.
“So how do you already know your bloodline?”
Mel asked again, looking at Azelia.
And what came back was...
—*Growl!*
A thunderous sound came from Azelia’s stomach.
Azelia intuited that the sound came from her and hung her flushing face low.
She wanted to cover her face with her palm, but unfortunately she was bound and couldn’t.
Indeed, having come out earlier than others as the top incoming student to do a simple entrance ceremony rehearsal,
and fighting Sithne while exhausting all her stamina and mana on top of that,
and finally being kidnapped by that ashen-haired man, bound, and put through the wringer until she cried her eyes out,
she had gone through such an eventful day without eating anything at all,
so it was no wonder at all that such a loud sound came from a growing girl’s stomach.
She had already shown all sorts of disgrace, but to show this kind of disgrace on top of it.
“You were so excitedly expelling until just now, and now you’re asking for intake.”
“Uu..!”
Mel’s words mercilessly dug into Azelia’s mind and body.
Mel let out a deep sigh, got up from his seat, took the apron hanging on the chair, put it on, and walked off somewhere.
And before long, a smell that stimulated the appetite began to fill the room.