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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: The Fake Hero is Too Strong
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The Fake Hero is Too Strong
Prologue
There was a public execution in the territory where I lived as a child.
Most death row inmates wouldn't get such a shocking event, but this criminal was a bit special.
For seven years in the territory, he had committed dozens of serial killings—a heinous criminal.
His motive for murder was some personal hobby that didn't make sense by any common standards.
Everyone he encountered wanted to witness his death with their own eyes.
Considering public sentiment, the lord ordered a special public execution ground to be prepared.
And he declared that anyone who wished could come watch his death.
"Maide. It's about time we went."
My mother didn't want to be a spectator at such a cruel event, but in the current atmosphere of the territory, saying "I don't want to see it" would be a sure way to get stoned to death.
Even for me, who was only seven years old, there was no exception.
One of his victims had come from the village where I lived.
"Stay behind Mom and cover your eyes."
"Okay, Mom."
And so, we dragged our unwilling feet toward the site.
The execution ground was packed with so many people that I wondered if there had ever been this many in our territory.
In the presence of the lord himself presiding, the executioner slowly recited the criminal's crimes.
"This man flowed into another territory seven years ago and got a job at a butcher shop. By his own account, he 'slaughtered' six people there, and the victims were as follows."
He slowly read out the names of the victims.
Screams, curses, and sobs erupted from those around—likely friends or family of the victims.
"Then at the lumber mill where he moved next..."
But I could no longer focus on the judge's voice.
'Huh? What's that?'
Blurry.
Above the head of the condemned man, whose face was covered in a sack and wriggling, some letters were written.
Not physically written with a pen.
Like blood smeared on a transparent pane, the letters were dripping down.
Stunned by this bizarre sight I'd never seen before, I gripped my mother's hand tightly.
"Maide. It's okay. Mom's right here."
"Mom, can't you see that?"
"I told you not to look."
I pointed to the letters above the condemned man's head—like they were written in blood—but my mother thought I meant the man himself and covered my eyes.
I quickly slipped out of her arms and said,
"You really can't see it? Am I the only one who can?"
"What are you talking about since earlier?"
The letters read exactly like this.
-He has sinned against Maiken Knall and 31 others.
What the hell did that mean?
And why was something like that suddenly visible to my eyes?
Just then, the executioner's voice rang out again.
"Furthermore, this man even got hired as the lord's gardener and murdered maids and butlers. The victims were as follows. Eisen Sral, Darcus Miem, Maiken Knall, Sele..."
"Ah! Maiken!"
Suddenly, a loud voice came from inside the sack.
The executioner frowned and shouted,
"Be quiet!"
"Maiken, huh. That was my most thrilling moment. You all tracked me down using clues from that guy's body, right?"
"I said be quiet."
"Okay, okay. You're being too harsh on a guy about to die."
Jeers and boos rose from the crowd at the brazen man's words.
But I focused on something else.
'Maiken Knall—that's one of the names above his head.'
Could it be?
I concentrated all my attention on the letters above the condemned man's head.
Whoosh.
Like magic, the transparent panel expanded.
And instead of "and 31 others," the full names of countless people appeared.
-Drian Leila
-Hans von
-Lian Dick
-Eisen Sral
-Darcus Miem...
It hit me all at once.
'These are the names of the people this guy killed!'
The victims' names the judge had just recited were listed there exactly.
That was when it happened.
Bang.
The lord slammed the armrest of his chair and bellowed,
"That's enough. Carry out the execution!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Wait, am I really going to die?"
Rattle.
The noose went around his neck.
The floor dropped, and he writhed in agony, his whole body convulsing.
How much time passed like that?
When his body finally hung limp like a slab of meat, my mother's voice reached me.
"Whew. That was hard to watch. Maide, are you okay?"
"Yeah."
I tried to tell her about the strange blood letters I'd just seen.
But my mother spoke first.
"Whew, your father should have been here instead of me right now."
"..."
"Times like this make his absence feel even bigger. What am I saying in front of the child?"
My father had been a hunter.
He was skilled enough that he'd once made quite a name for himself in our village.
Unfortunately, he got torn apart by a bear on his last hunt.
His name was definitely...
"Let's go now. You don't want to stay here any longer, right?"
"Yeah, Mom."
"What's wrong?"
"Mom, above your head..."
-He has sinned against Arald Mohan and 7 others.
Those red letters, like written in blood.
Floating above my mother's head.
It was my father's name.
Twenty years passed.
The fifth Demon King descended upon the continent.
After numerous twists and turns, I had joined the hero's party as a hero to confront that Demon King.
On the night before the final battle, after dealing with all the Demon King's forces,
"Maide, wake up. It's your turn."
"Coming."
"Call me noona. How many times do I have to tell you?"
I clicked my tongue once and got up.
My head throbbed like it might split open, probably from the filthy old nightmare.
Neril Slaine, a member of the hero's party who woke me—and my comrade—sat down next to me.
"Looked like you had a nightmare."
"Some bad memories came up. Dreaming something like that the night before facing the Demon King gives me chills. I should sit out tomorrow's battle."
"Yeah, that might be best for party unity."
I smirked at her words.
Neril looked at me with subtle eyes and continued,
"You're the type who drifts on the outside anyway. Everyone's excluding you."
"I'm the one excluding everyone."
"Nice mental gymnastics. And accurate, too. You don't trust any of us in the party."
I had no choice.
And that includes you.
I glanced up at the top of Neril's head.
-Sinned against May Enerica and 287 others.
An overwhelming number that would make the lunatic executed in our territory look like a shy kid.
Truth be told, it wasn't just Neril.
For a party of heroes meant to save the world, the names and numbers floating above their heads denied that fact.
Everyone's got their circumstances, I suppose.
But those numbers were too glaring to swallow tales of "trust your comrades" at face value.
Meanwhile, Neril kept talking.
"Who would like a guy who doesn't show trust first?"
"It's a party bound by necessity anyway. Once the Demon King is dead, we'll scatter."
"The others seem like they'll stick together even after the quest. Not me, though."
"Yeah, your social skills are as abysmal as mine."
Neril just shrugged.
She leaned in closer to me.
I tilted my head and asked,
"Just in case, I'm saying this ahead of time—don't confess all of a sudden."
"Not awake yet?"
"Then what? You're setting the mood like that."
"I wanted to talk about that guy."
She nodded toward one of the party members still deep in dreamland.
Hero Kaild Wake.
The fifth hero in continental history, destined to appear when the Demon King descends.
Neril's expression as she looked at the hero was chillingly cold, which surprised me a bit.
"Your face is frosty. You don't like Kaild?"
"Who knows."
"Vague answer."
"I've lived a long time, so people's emotions have weathered and faded for me. Likes or dislikes aren't big deals. Results are what matter."
"..."
"Maide, I acknowledge your skills. I know you made a name as a mercenary before joining this party. If you weren't a wanderer, you'd have taken over as guild master by now if you'd settled in one."
"Hmph."
"Objectively speaking, though, Kaild hasn't shown much hero potential."
I let out a hollow laugh.
The auntie was saying the exact opposite of what the other party members thought.
"You're saying that now? The night before the final battle with the Demon King?"
"That's why—being this close to the end makes me reflect calmly."
"..."
"You never trusted any party member, but you especially showed distrust toward Kaild several times. That shrank your already narrow standing even more. I thought you were just dumb before, but maybe you saw the same thing I did."
I stayed silent for a moment.
Neril idly picked up a twig and doodled weird shapes on the ground before speaking.
"What is it about Kaild that you don't trust?"
"I'm quick on the uptake."
"So what did your quick wits pick up on Kaild?"
I smacked my lips several times but ultimately said nothing.
I'd never told anyone about this ability.
Naturally, not even my mother.
Neril waited a bit longer before suddenly stretching.
"Well, what's the point of talking about it now? It'll all be over tomorrow anyway."
"Yeah. So go to sleep, auntie."
"Heh heh. Old folks don't need much sleep, you know."
"..."
"And call me auntie one more time, and I'll kill you?"
She said it herself first. Does she want me to call her grandma?
After she lay down to sleep, I sank into thought alone.
Inevitably, those thoughts led to Kaild.
I do see people's sins.
So if my name or someone close to me's name is there, I get on guard.
And I always dig it out.
I make them pay for their sins.
'But that guy is just...'
I stared quietly at his peacefully sleeping face.
More precisely, at the red blood letters floating above his head.
-Sinned against Bion Kunze and 148,304,291 others.
About 148 million.
...
As far as I know, that's the population of this continent.
An astronomical number.
I couldn't even begin to figure out what crimes he'd committed.
I dug as hard as I could, but I couldn't even confirm if my name was in there.
'What the hell have you been up to, you bastard.'
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