Faced with the warning that escaping from this place could mean death, Hyakin made efforts — albeit belatedly — to catch up with the curriculum.
But it was impossible to keep pace with the other children, who were already as good as fully-realized Heroes.
In swordsmanship, he suffered an embarrassing defeat against genius swordsman Muteric Rivalster by an overwhelming gap in skill.
“Ugh!”
“Get up. You can’t possibly be planning to face the demon clan with that little stamina. Even for a healer, physical endurance is a crucial factor.”
In defensive arts, a single combined strike from archer Garet Hayden and paladin Pesar Wigin shattered his barrier so completely that he was sent rolling pathetically across the dirt floor.
“Ugh…… aaahh!”
“What’s this. I’d heard your appearance was identical to the founding Saint’s, so I expected some level of skill. You only share the face — nothing else.”
“It might honestly be better to just recruit a healer and bring them along instead.”
How pitiful.
Garet and Pesar’s cold words struck Hyakin like daggers.
In the last class, magic resistance — Hyakin was toyed with completely by his opponent, fellow Hero Ciel Caneros.
“Ugh. Ughaaaaah! Let go, let go! This is disgusting! I’m scared……!”
Hyakin had a terror of insects and bugs, and Ciel’s hallucinatory magic — so vivid it might as well have been real — inflicted severe psychological damage on him.
“This is too boring to bother with.”
After holding Hyakin in the palm of his hand and playing with him as if to knead and pop him for quite some time, Ciel apparently decided Hyakin wasn’t even worth expending further effort on and tossed him aside with a bored expression.
And so, reduced to a battered wreck and having effectively failed nearly every Hero class, Hyakin sank into gloom.
The only thing I did remotely well was the Saint-specific training……
Divine power.
A sacred force borrowed briefly from God through prayer — a critically important and exceptionally rare power capable of purifying and repelling evil.
It was something he hadn’t even dared to hope for — and yet, during a one-on-one session with the Pope, Hyakin had managed to manifest both a barrier and an offensive instrument through his divine power, successfully pressing its edge to his opponent’s throat for the very first time.
The Pope praised his ability with genuine admiration.
“Remarkable! You truly are worthy of being called the image of the founding Saint.”
“……What’s so remarkable about this. This is just the most basic level of skill……”
At that, the Pope smiled warmly and ruffled Hyakin’s hair with fond affection, as one might with a grandchild.
“Do not be discouraged.”
“I asked you to call me Hyakin, didn’t I.”
“Then, Hyakin.”
The clear blue eyes that had spent long years looking only toward God sparkled as if trying to see straight through to Hyakin’s core.
“Beginning later than others is no reason to measure your achievements against those who started earlier.”
“……But.”
“That isn’t comparison — it’s cruelty. In my eyes, I can see that you are doing more than well enough. Look — divine power is an ability that is extraordinarily difficult to awaken to begin with, and even more difficult to wield freely once it manifests.”
“……”
“That is precisely why the number of priests who serve in the Papal Palace, or in any temple, is so small.”
The Pope went down on one knee and, with a gentle smile, took Hyakin’s battered, wound-covered hands firmly in his own.
“And yet, look at this. Throughout all generations of Saints, there has not been a single one outside of the founding Saint and yourself who awakened to divine power this quickly, without any particular restriction.”
“……Is that so?”
“Of course. You may rest assured — this comes from an old man who, since childhood, has revered the legend of the Saints and spent his days poring over records of them in the library.”
Hyakin felt, for some reason, as though tears might pool in his eyes.
It was the Pope who had dragged him here against his will — but this bleak and barren place, where he had not a single ally, was also the only place where that same Pope was the one he could lean on, even just a little.
Hyakin murmured with his head bowed low.
“I will never forgive the Pope for taking away my home, my village, and all of my friends.”
“……I know. Even if you hate me——”
“Even so, please help me grow as a Hero for now. Think of it as penance.”
At Hyakin’s words, heavy with the threat of tears, the Pope’s blue eyes went wide — and then crinkled at the corners into a smile.
“Of course, young Saint. For your sake, this old man will teach you everything there is in his power to teach.”
“……And please go easy on me. How does an eighty-something grandfather have the strength of someone who could hold their own against a warrior?!”
“Ha ha. Adequate sleep, a balanced diet, and moderate daily exercise — maintaining these contributes considerably to sustaining one’s divine power as well.”
“Ugh.”
“So it would be wise for the Saint not to skip things like carrots or broccoli either…… Saint? Where are you going, Saaint——!”
* * *
The Pope’s encouragement proved fairly effective. Hyakin had come to make up his mind to throw himself into Hero training with more genuine commitment than before.
As frustrating as it is, if I want to grow stronger as a Hero…… there’s no other way than to ask the other Hero kids — who are already close to completed characters — to teach me a thing or two.
They couldn’t be underestimated simply because they were children. Those four were safely within the ranks of the current continent’s most powerful beings.
Swordsman Muteric Rivalster was the son of House Rivalster, renowned as a distinguished warrior family — a prodigious swordsman who had been swinging a blade since infancy. By around the age of ten, he had succeeded, entirely on his own without any family assistance, in defeating a black bear known as the ‘Armorbear’ — a creature that had terrorized the mountains behind his family’s estate. Even now, it is said that the bear’s hide from that day has been made into a carpet and laid across the floor of Muteric’s room at the ducal mansion.
Mage Ciel Caneros was gifted with innately powerful magic and exceptional skill in applying magical formulas — so much so that rumors circulated claiming he was the cherished illegitimate son of the current head of the Magic Tower. There was even quiet talk that he might be the one to claim the next position of Magic Tower head.
Archer Garet Hayden was of mixed blood with the rare elven race, and his mother was a human merchant guild leader. The merchant guild his mother ran was wealthy enough to rank among the top three within the Empire, which meant Garet had always had ample opportunity to encounter priceless treasures. What he ultimately chose at the end of it all was the renowned bow Diana — perhaps answering the call of fate from the other half of his blood.
After obtaining Diana, Garet had taken to roaming forests and mountains like the wind, performing acts of good by shooting down monsters and beasts that harmed people in an instant. The people of the region praised him, calling him ‘the young archer of House Hayden.’
Finally, tank and paladin Pesar Wigin was the one and only son of a legendary mercenary king. Possessing both the instincts to survive in the wild and tremendous brute strength and resilience, he had a remarkable history: in his early teens, he reclaimed on his own — entirely by himself — the mercenary guild his father had once founded.
In short, they’re all monsters……
To these beings who could not be dismissed simply for being boys — effectively the strongest people in the world — Hyakin swallowed his pride and made his request.
“The reason I’ve gathered the four of you here today is simply this…… I want to know if you can help me improve even a little as a Hero.”
He had done nothing but lay out his honest feelings, yet Muteric’s eyebrow visibly twitched with displeasure.
I don’t want to bow to any of you either!
But what choice was there when survival demanded it?
Even the Chief God wasn’t cooperating with me……!
While he was growing anxious, Muteric spoke.
“Are you serious?”
“……I am.”
“For someone who claims to be serious, it’s an open question whether you can even keep up with my training — considering you’re a weakling who struggles to get out of bed every morning.”
Heat rushed to his face.
He wanted to argue back, but he knew doing so would only make things more miserable, so his lips simply twitched without producing words.
Even though he had built up some functional muscle doing odd jobs back home, comparing it to muscle trained for the purpose of killing was the difference between the earth and the sky.
The grueling intensity of training — across both his past life and this one — had worn him down endlessly, and whenever he was on the verge of showing tears, the other four Heroes would look at him with eyes that said, how can you possibly be this useless.
“I…… I can keep up if I try. You didn’t start out killing bears from the beginning either.”
“I was exceptional from birth and have lived a life where putting in effort was simply a given — so I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
What on earth……
As a despairing Hyakin looked to the other three Heroes, they too seemed to share Muteric’s sentiment, making it plain they had little desire to help.
“You’re asking me to bring someone whose magic resistance is below that of a squirrel up to my level? I’d sooner submit three hundred theses to the Magic Tower.”
“Your arms are thinner than a bowstring — they’re not suited to holding a bow. You’d be better off practicing converting your divine power into a weapon.”
“……I agree with Garet. For defensive arts training alongside us, Hyakin — you’re simply too weak.”
“……!”
“Besides — even right now, aren’t you coming to us not out of some noble desire for honor, or the wish to save the world, but purely out of the selfish drive to survive?”
“Th-that’s……”
What’s wrong with trying to survive?
He wanted to snap back exactly that, but nothing came out of his mouth except fumbling, stumbling half-words.
Four boys with features so sharp they might have been carved by divine hands turned their cold gazes on him.
“We have no intention of offering our help to someone who seeks to walk the path of a Hero with such a shallow heart.”
“W-wait just a moment! Let’s talk a little more——”
The four boys turned away without sparing him another moment.
Among them, Muteric clicked his tongue and muttered as if wanting Hyakin to hear it.
“What a waste of time.”
Thud.
Hyakin stared at the backs of the four Hero boys — everyone but himself — until they shrank to dots in the distance.
For some reason, it felt unbearably unfair.
Beneath Hyakin’s mismatched eyes, tears gathered like jewels and fell, one after another.
* * *
And so, in the present.
“I don’t want to live a life of being treated like dirt, like my first life! Nor do I want training so brutal it goes beyond all reason……!”
Sniff.
Hyakin’s nose ran. The rims of his eyes were bright red.
“If you are a merciful God to me as well, then prove it.”
Please free me from this wretched fate and let me live as I choose……
