What shook the Chief God out of his reverie — as he had been reminiscing about those days — was Hikan’s unintelligible sleep-talking.
“Mmm……. I can’t eat anymore, Mother…….”
Whatever he’s dreaming about, the fact that family came up means he must be having a happy dream……
There was no other explanation for why sleeping Hikan’s face could look so utterly at peace.
It seemed that, just as he had wished, the remnants of the past no longer visited him even in dreams. And that was without the Chief God having taken any particular measures.
……Would it not be better for you to stay uninvolved with the heroes, I wonder?
For the sake of Hikan’s happiness in this life, the Chief God understood well enough that it would be best for him not to cross paths with the heroes who had gone mad after his death — and yet……
As the Chief God, who bore the duty of protecting the world, he had no choice but to make them meet.
As if it were a fate impossible to sever……
Just as the Chief God was growing troubled in his thoughts, Hikan — whose sleeping habits were atrocious — gave his blanket an almighty kick, sending it flying.
“Mmmph……. I don’t want carrots or broccoli……. Or spinach…….”
— He’s not even a little kid, good grief.
Whether it was because he had grown up coddled and adored as the sweet youngest child of a warm family, it seemed he still hadn’t managed to kick his picky eating.
The Chief God let out a helpless chuckle and moved toward Hikan to pull the blanket back over him.
“……Thank you for keeping your promise, God…….”
A pause.
The Chief God, who had manifested in the form of a Holy Spirit no bigger than a chick, froze completely.
He stood there for a long moment, opening and closing his beak wordlessly, before patting the soundly sleeping Hikan with his wing and murmuring.
— ……It is I who should thank you for keeping yours.
Even with the next life promised, even with the pain reduced…… there was no way dying could have held no fear.
And yet this child faced it with composure.
Despite having wept and despaired and crumbled for days on end, saying that dying was the most terrifying thing in the world to him.
In the end, true to fate — true to what the Chief God had asked of him — he had faithfully honored their deal and met a cruel end in his past life, his entire body torn apart……
The guilt of it was unbearable, and the Chief God shut both eyes tightly.
— You were truly a remarkable and fascinating Saint in so many ways.
The days when Hikan had been Hyakin were still vivid to him, as if they had happened just yesterday.
— I only hope that no uninvited guests intrude upon your journey……
* * *
Now that Hyakin had found his compromise with God, there was no longer any reason to throw tantrums, nor any cause to pour out his grievances begging to be pulled from the hero role.
And so he adapted to life in the Papal Palace without complaint.
The hero training he had once struggled so bitterly with, he attended without a word of protest. This came as quite a shock to the instructors overseeing Hyakin’s training.
Because whether it was the basic self-defense swordsmanship he needed to acquire, magic resistance, or barrier technique — his progress was slow, but he pushed forward steadily and without a sound.
Something in the Saint’s heart has changed……!
What the instructors felt, the four young heroes could not have failed to feel as well.
Why is he acting like this?
What’s he scheming?
Did someone bribe him?
Did someone slip a potent poisonous herb into his food?
If anything, the intensity of training had gone up from before, not down — and yet Hyakin got back up without any fuss and stayed through every session alongside the other heroes to the very end.
The reason was simple. It was because of his promise with God.
— Accepting your predetermined fate also means you must develop the qualities befitting a hero.
— So no more skipping classes, and absolutely no more attending in that half-hearted, couldn’t-care-less manner of yours.
— If you wish to keep your promise with me and be reborn in your next life as a wealthy layabout, you must at minimum attain the qualifications of the Saints before you and set out with the heroes to subjugate the Demon King.
If I want an easy next life — no skipping classes.
Hyakin did not enjoy the hero training that was part of the process of being forged into a hero. Not only was it difficult to catch up on the curriculum so late, the bigger problem was the other heroes, who regarded him with thinly veiled contempt.
But what did any of that matter, when he was being promised the title of “wealthy layabout” in his next life — a lifetime of living without a single worry?
Muteric, Ciel, Garet, and even that bastard Pesar — the sight of all of them is repulsive to me……
But if enduring a little humiliation meant he could escape this wretched life as the Saint, that was more than manageable.
After surviving twelve years of South Korea’s rote education system, what can’t I handle?
Hyakin’s current age was fifteen.
According to the prophecy handed down by the Chief God, the Demon King was set to appear roughly five years from now.
The curriculum is brutal…… but I’ll make it work somehow!
And so Hyakin wrung out every last drop of strength he had, pouring intense focus and tenacity into attending his hero training.
Muteric, Ciel, Garet, and Pesar — none of whom could possibly know any of this — had no way of determining why Hyakin had changed his attitude, and eventually arrived at a misguided conclusion.
“It seems Hyakin has resigned himself to a reality he cannot escape and accepted his duties as Saint.”
At Muteric’s assessment, the other three wore expressions of is that really right? — but eventually nodded in agreement.
“It’s hard to explain it any other way.”
“The instructors think similarly. They were delighted, saying the Saint has finally had a change of heart and is now walking in the teachings of the Chief God.”
“On the other hand, there are still many in the opposing faction who doubt whether he is truly a Saint capable of walking the righteous path laid out by the Chief God.”
Muteric pressed his fingers between his brows with the air of someone nursing a headache.
“……So the eyes of nearly everyone in the Papal Palace are going to remain fixed on him going forward.”
Ciel tilted his head with a languid smile, as if to say what’s the problem?
“Isn’t that fine? He’s a fellow member of the hero party who will have to accompany us as the Saint regardless — if everyone is watching him together, then if he gets careless and tries to make a run for it, won’t we be able to catch him easily?”
Garet and Pesar nodded along at Ciel’s words.
“At the very least, none of this current situation is bad for us.”
“Hmm……. Who knows how well a duck can manage to imitate a swan.”
Ciel, Garet, and Pesar all seemed to be of the mind that Hyakin would drop his current attitude before long — but Muteric was different.
That guy — even after I brought the wooden sword down hard on his vital points over and over, he came to me on trembling legs and asked dozens of times to go again.
And that was just within a single sparring match.
The swordsmanship instructor, unable to watch any longer as Hyakin became increasingly covered in dust and a complete mess, had moved to stop them — but Hyakin blocked him, insisting he mustn’t be interrupted.
“This is my fight, Instructor. So please don’t interfere.”
In that moment, Muteric — much as he truly did not want to admit it — found himself seeing the ghost of his own younger self overlaid onto Hyakin.
Because even bearing the grand title of genius prodigy Sword Saint, Muteric too had once been a very young child who had to grip his sword until his hands blistered and bled raw.
In the current Hyakin, I see the same fighting spirit and resolve as I had back then.
That was what stirred something in Muteric’s chest.
What on earth made him drop the talk of sending him home and change his mind like this?
Muteric didn’t buy what the other worshippers and priests were saying — that Hyakin had been moved by the Chief God’s grace, or that he had simply let go of everything and was now seeking wealth and comfort within the life of a Saint.
Those eyes…… those were the eyes of a hunter who had found a clear target and was throwing himself at it without hesitation.
When Hyakin came charging at Muteric with his wooden sword, his snow-white hair flying, his two differently-colored eyes had gleamed with elation and joy.
It was a kind of freshness — something only a human with dreams and hope could possess.
“Oh, it’s time for the Divine Power Enhancement class. I’d better hurry before I’m late.”
Dressed properly in the Saint’s vestments, wearing a soft smile, Hyakin trotted down the corridors of the Papal Palace — and he shone.
……? Why am I thinking like this.
Even if that guy had changed a little, a duck was still a duck in the end — it could never become a swan.
Someone who had nothing going for him except a face identical to the First Saint’s. The nerve.
Muteric told himself this, and turned his back on Hyakin.
“Hm? Was someone just looking at me?”
Hyakin glanced around, then quickly gave up and hurried off to class.
It didn’t take long for Hyakin to prove Muteric wrong.
In the first year after entering the Papal Palace, Hyakin’s name was recorded as the fastest-growing Saint in history.
In the second year, Hyakin had reached a level where he could block Muteric’s sword strikes, deflect Ciel’s magical attacks, and demonstrated a seasoned composure in holding his barrier against Garet and Pesar’s combined assault without breaking.
In the third year, the hero companions, having witnessed him pray to the Chief God every single day with sincere and reverent devotion, gradually began to acknowledge that Hyakin had changed. Rather than letting the nickname “Duck” pass their lips, Muteric was the first to begin speaking to him — just a little, little by little.
In the fourth year, Hyakin now possessed swordsmanship sufficient to protect himself, had reached an advanced level of magic resistance, and proved that his barrier ability surpassed every Saint who had come before him.
The Pope was overjoyed at Hyakin’s accomplishments.
“At last……! I believed that the Saint would have a change of heart and become just as great as the First Saint.”
By that point, even those who had looked down on Hyakin at the beginning of his time in the Papal Palace — resentful of his commoner origins — fell silent and regarded him with respect.
In just four years, through blood and tears, Hyakin had finally earned the acknowledgment of both the heroes and the people of the Papal Palace.
“Not at all. This is all thanks to the grace of the Chief God.”
He said this with his mouth — while inside, he was scheming as deviously as ever.
Heh heh heh. Once I finish the mission I’ve been given and die, I won’t so much as glance in the direction of a place like this.
