My heart races just thinking about having to face a beast even the hero couldn't handle. The system must be mental… like, seriously. I'm just a farmer. I don't even have a single attack skill.
The cold reality sinks in. I really am a nobody. But here I am, being shoved onto a hero's path. Or is it… a hero trainer's path? Hero savior? Does a hero even need saving?!
[Nine minutes left...]
Alright, alright… I'm going, I'm going. Can you believe this crap?
I tear through the fields with everything I've got. Corn leaves whip at my skin, but there's no time to care about pain. My life's on the line. The forest from the Book of Lore should be just south of the village.
I remember going there once before. Spoiler: it didn't end well. I was just a kid, and I ran into a bear chowing down on a berry bush. I froze, then my gut told me to bolt. Worst decision ever.
If not for some old adventurer in black-as-night armor passing by right then, the bear would've torn my head off. I still have the scar on my neck, ugly and raw on the left side—a reminder I was lucky enough to stay in this story at all.
[Five minutes left...]
Fantastic... I've only just made it out of the cornfield, and the forest is probably another four minutes away at this speed. My calves are burning, my heart's pounding, and I'm already out of breath. But I can't stop now.
At last, trees rise up ahead. Explosions echo in the distance, mingling with the wild sounds of battle.
I stop.
My legs refuse to go further.
Am I really this much of a coward? Move, damn it.
They won't.
Move!
I step back.
You idiot, your life's at stake—what's the point of fear now?
I curse myself out loud, as if that'll boost my courage.
I can do it.
I take another step back, so slow it's like I'm tiptoeing toward my own execution.
I can't do it… I'm afraid.
Coward…
Yeah.
Move.
No… I—
MOVE!!!
Finally, after fighting myself for what feels like a century and wasting even more time, my legs finally start moving.
I refuse to let fear win. I'll do it. Even if I can't. I'll still do it. That's just who I am. That's me—Quill.
[{{NEW}} Courage Stat +1: You have chosen to move forward despite mortal terror. Now run faster, you idiot!]
[Current Courage: 1/100]
I take a big step forward. Then another. Before I know it, I'm running faster than I ever have in my life. Time is ticking down, seconds slipping through my fingers—
[Twenty seconds remain… The hero is in peril and about to die. If you can't save him, the story ends here.]
No!
The sound pulls me forward, guiding every step. But then, all at once, it vanishes. Eerie silence settles over the battlefield, swallowing up the chaos. Am I too late? No. That can't be—there's still time. I have to act. Now!
I yank the quill from my pocket. That power I felt earlier—it can't just be for opening system windows. I know it. My gut tells me there's more.
My finger bursts into bloody mist again, and the system window flares to life, but I shove it out of the way. Stats can wait. Right now, I need action.
Imagine… just imagine yourself moving that tree!
Up ahead, I spot the hero sprawled on the ground and the beast—this monstrous lion—closing its jaws around his head. There's only one chance, and only one way to do it without being seen: the half-cut tree right next to the beast, left teetering from someone's careless swing.
[Ten seconds…]
I know what to do.
I move the quill like it's part of my own hand, drawing shapes in the air, feeling a raw, electric power spiral through me. Energy surges from the tip, and the tree creaks, bends, and crashes down exactly as I command.
Crack! Tumble!
A thick trunk slams down, crushing the lion's back and snapping it in two—just before it can devour the hero. That bastard Glorius… damn it, I'd almost pay to see you get eaten. But for now, I have to keep you alive.
[Congratulations! You have successfully protected the hero from death.]
[Courage +10]
[{NEW} Stamina +5]
[{NEW} Attack +5]
[Agility +5]
[Mana +2]
[You have gained a new title: Plot Armor Rookie {{NEW}} +20 Creativity]
I skim through the system messages, barely glancing at them. All my attention is on the hero and that stupid look on his face. Bet his eyes are screaming, "I can't believe I survived that." Honestly, it's kind of refreshing seeing him like this. Maybe now his cockiness will finally take a hit.
Or… maybe I just created an even bigger monster.
That look of shock on his face warps into something worse—disgusting amusement, pure pride. I can already tell. His blade plunges into the lion's neck, blood spraying everywhere like he's the main character in some epic tale.
"WE DID IT!" The whole party erupts, voices tangled in joy, all their smiles warping to match his.
"With this, I've reached level 15! We can finally rank up to D-rank!" A guy with short black hair and two daggers shouts. That's probably him... Nox.
Dangerous type—short, but he always acts like he's above everyone else. I remember those eyes. The same, twisted pride. When the hero beat me to death, Nox wore the biggest, most satisfied grin of them all. He relished my suffering, as if he was the one who'd delivered the blow himself.
So they're already that far ahead...? Meanwhile, I'm still stuck at level 1. But if killing monsters helps them level up, does that mean I can do it too? Can I—? My heart skips a beat. Could I really become as strong as them?
That thought lights something in me—a sharp, determined spark.
My path is clear now. I'll become an adventurer myself. I'll build my own party, stronger and cooler than theirs. My party won't look down on others. We'll rise above them all. And then... I won't just be an author.
I'll become the hero.