The moment I laid eyes on that boy, I knew instantly who he was.
Muteric Rivalster!
A genius swordsman produced by House Rivalster — a ducal family renowned throughout the Siegfried Empire, the nation to the right of the Papal Palace, for its long and distinguished lineage of warriors.
He looks exactly like the image described in the text……!
I was briefly struck dumb by Muteric’s striking looks, then belatedly recalled what he had said upon first meeting me, and bristled.
“What do you mean, unbelievable?”
Muteric fixed me with a cold stare that was entirely uncharacteristic of a child his age.
“You look exactly like the founding Saint on the outside, but you have nothing else to show for it, do you?”
“……!”
“No knowledge befitting a Saint, no command of even the most basic etiquette, not even the quiet dignity that should emanate from you…… You’re nothing but a brat, plain and simple.”
“What? A brat?!”
When I lashed out at Muteric over the insult, he let out a mocking snicker.
“If you want to shed that shameful label, then come at me.”
“Th-that’s……”
If we’re being honest, how is a mere healer like me supposed to take on someone with a physical stat that towers over mine?
The outcome would be obvious before I even tried.
I was furious, but this much was undeniably true.
As befitted someone chosen as a ‘Hero,’ Muteric was a swordsman of monstrous skill, unrivaled in swordsmanship.
Even as a young boy, he was an opponent I couldn’t begin to compare myself to — my muscles were nothing but the kind built from daily farm work in a backwater village.
When I did nothing but tremble without making a move, Muteric let out a scornful laugh and opened his mouth once more.
“Don’t you have any honor or pride as a Hero? A man who’s nothing but a coward — how do you expect to go and take down the Demon King who threatens this world?”
Honor and pride as a Hero?
Yeah. I have absolutely none of that. Not even a grain.
I’m genuinely so scared I can’t even watch a horror film alone, and as for the Demon King — I wouldn’t go near that even if you paid me a fortune!
Would you want the role of throwing yourself in front of attacks meant for others as a self-appointed shield, only to die with your entire body torn to shreds?
……I wanted to grab Muteric by the collar and scream that at the top of my lungs, but I held back.
Ranting like that would only get me branded as a deranged Saint and subjected to some kind of exorcism.
So I stayed still without saying a word — and Muteric looked at me with undisguised contempt.
“What a pathetic coward. The fact that you and I are both called Heroes is a disgrace.”
He shoved past me with his shoulder and walked toward the Papal Palace.
On his way, he even turned back to offer the Pope what could barely be called advice.
“Your Holiness, I will never in my life recognize someone like that as a Saint — someone who denies being a Saint and looks at the Papal Palace as if it’s a den of evil spirits. I suggest you find a different one.”
“Muteric……”
“The others will surely think the same as I do, so it would be best to throw that wretch out of the Papal Palace as soon as possible.”
With that, he strode away on long, well-proportioned legs.
Watching his retreating figure made my head throb.
“But — once you’ve entered the barrier, you can’t leave, isn’t that right? So what exactly am I supposed to do?”
Wait.
Don’t tell me he means I should leave by dying……?
A chill ran over me, raising goosebumps, and the Pope turned a pitying gaze my way. It was the first time he had looked at me like that.
“Are you alright, Saint?”
“How could I possibly be alright?”
Inside the barrier, I could use both hands freely and walk without restraint — but it was only a half-freedom. Naturally, I had no freedom to feel happy about it either.
“Everything he said was true. That I’m not suited to be a Saint, and that I don’t want to be one.”
“……”
“So please — can’t you find another candidate with stronger divine power and install them as the Saint instead? If there’s any way to transfer my holy power, I’d gladly do it — please……!”
Let me go home.
I grabbed hold of the hem of the Pope’s white robe — clearly made of fine fabric — and pleaded.
“My parents must surely be missing me by now……”
Even if the moment it came to light that I was the Saint, they had sent me off as though they had no other choice — they had been crying as they let me go.
It seemed like they didn’t want to part with me.
That made my chest ache with a dull, lingering pain.
I went as far as going down on my knees to beg pitifully to be sent home.
“Please……. I’m begging you. Let me go home. Won’t you?”
The Pope’s expression crumpled with sorrow as he looked at me.
“……I am deeply sorry, but now that it has come to light that you are the Saint, returning home is no longer possible.”
“Why! Why is it not possible?!”
Wasn’t the God of this world supposed to be merciful?
Then why!
The Pope shut his eyes tightly and delivered a cruel truth.
“……Even setting aside the near-impossibility of breaking the barrier around the Papal Palace — do you know what becomes of a Hero who succeeds in breaking it and escaping?”
I felt like I already knew the answer, but I asked anyway.
“……What happens?”
The Pope’s pale blue eyes snapped open, radiating a terrifying pressure.
“They are branded as traitors to the nation and executed.”
“……!”
“Because Heroes are so difficult to replace, those throughout history who attempted to flee were, in most cases, returned to the Papal Palace more dead than alive — on the brink of death. And those with divine power are even harder to come by.”
“Th-that’s……”
The Pope’s sharp, almost manic eyes looked down at me.
“And so, Saint.”
“……”
“I ask that you make a wise decision. We have no desire to cause you harm either……”
Smile.
It was the warm smile of a grandfather doting on his grandchild — which made it all the more chilling.
“Ugh…… ughh……”
“Oh dear, if you back away like that you’ll get dirt on your precious body.”
The Pope brushed the dirt from me, then gripped my shoulders and beamed.
“Now then, shall we go and restore you to the splendid appearance befitting a Saint?”
He said it with the excitement of a small child — yet I, the actual child, was paralyzed with fear, and had no choice but to comply.
“……Yes.”
“Excellent. The priests selected to attend the Saint — please escort this person to their quarters immediately and see that they are washed and made presentable!”
“Yes, Your Holiness!”
Several priests responded with a loud, unified reply, then approached me with expressions of the utmost gentleness.
“Now then, Saint. We’ll make you squeaky clean and beautiful — shall we go with us?”
Since there was no escaping, and if escaping only meant becoming a traitor and living a life worse than death——
“……Alright. Let’s go.”
Maybe the answer lies not in humans, but in God!
The Saint was the only being capable of communicating with God.
So if I attempted to negotiate (?) with God directly, there was at least a chance of returning home.
That was what I believed at the time, as I let myself be led away by the priest.
* * *
“To think there was a time I was that naive……”
Vividly reliving those long-ago memories, I knocked back my wine in great, gulping swallows.
Muteric, that bastard. He stared at me back then like I was lower than a bug!
“Haa…… Then again, it’s not like the others were any better than Muteric.”
The other Heroes, much like Muteric, appeared to have watched me from hiding and concluded I was a lost cause. After that, they began to look down on me or dismiss me entirely with increasing frequency.
“A Saint who knows nothing of a Hero’s honor and pride is better off not existing.”
That was what the four Heroes — everyone except me — had muttered coldly in unison.
What’s so great about honor and pride……
When you die, it all ends anyway.
Our thinking was too different, so conflict was inevitable, and right up until the day we set out to subjugate the Demon King, things between us never improved.
“Huu.”
Even just remembering that time brought on a headache, so I drank another glass of wine and complained to the Chief God.
“On the very first day I arrived at the Papal Palace…… you appeared in my dream, and yet why didn’t you grant me what I asked?”
— ……Because what you asked for was the kind of thing I couldn’t grant for the sake of this world.
“Hmph. Of course. The sacrifice of the few for the good of the many is only natural, I suppose.”
I wasn’t much of a drinker. I could already feel sleep washing over me.
I mumbled upward in the direction where the Chief God might be.
“Don’t appear in my dreams this time……. If at all possible, those four insufferable Heroes as well.”
— ……Understood.
Soon the sound of Hikan’s peaceful, rumbling snores filled the room as he fell fast asleep.
The Chief God, present beside Hikan in the form of an invisible spirit, alone recalled the memory of that day — a conversation with a young Hyakin who had been so deeply pitiable.
* * *
Hyakin had steeled his resolve, silently crying out to God over and over — please let me go home, I never want to be a Hero — and yet…… nothing happened.
“God is a liar……”
Grieving the forced separation from his mother and father, Hyakin burrowed beneath the plush bedding of the Papal Palace and wept quietly, tears falling in an endless stream.
He cried until exhaustion pulled him under — and in the dream that followed, the Chief God appeared to him for the very first time, moved by compassion for the child.
At first, Hyakin didn’t recognize the Chief God, who was enveloped in light.
“Who are you, grandpa?”
— I am the one who created this world, the parent of all things.
“……Are you the Chief God?”
— That is indeed one name I am called by…… What do you think you’re doing!
The moment Hyakin encountered the Chief God in the dream, he lunged at him like a starved beast and seized hold of the hem of his robe.
“Please! Please let me go home — please make it so I’m not the Saint!”
— Now see here! How dare the chosen one——!
“Oh, come off it! Did you get my consent for this? No, you didn’t! You just go ahead and anoint someone the Saint without asking, and that’s that? My past life ended miserably and I was already bitter about it……! What’s wrong with letting me live a little happily this time around?!”
The Chief God was briefly taken aback by Hyakin’s desperate outburst.
— Oh my. A soul that remembers its past life — and what’s more, one that came from another world entirely?
“Yes! So please, kick me out of this Hero business. If you don’t……”
— If I don’t?
“I’ll keep repeating this every single day until you do, and I’ll be biting your ankles the whole time!”
Chomp!
— Good grief…… What kind of godforsaken Saint is this……
For the first time that day, the Chief God nearly regretted his own choice.
