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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: In Celebration of New Companions - 4
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Neril said.
"Sounds nice?"
"What does."
"All I hear from every direction is your name. Looks like the viscount's plan flopped. It was supposed to be a trial to boost his own reputation."
"It's his usual conduct catching up to him. If he'd run the territory properly, there'd have been at least one 'As expected of the lord' by now. He brought it on himself."
"Hmm."
Neril let out a strange hum as she gazed at the trial bench.
There sat Gray, staring blankly at the sky, his face drained of all energy.
Neril clicked her tongue.
"That bastard won't go and die in prison, will he?"
"Guys like him can't give up their lives that easily. Exactly inverse to how lightly they treat others' lives—they treasure their own like pure gold."
"..."
"Don't worry. He'll last at least seven years."
Neril said nothing.
I kept going.
"After we take down the Demon King in seven years, let's come back here."
"..."
"I won't try to stop you then. You could probably storm the prison solo and lop off his head, but if it's tough, I'll lend a hand."
"I don't get it. Why's seven years fine but not now?"
"You can't commit any more atrocities. Well, most of it was probably false accusations from the start anyway."
Neril tilted her head and looked at me.
I crossed my arms and flashed a grin.
"You're a member of the hero's party that's gonna save the continent now. You think I'd keep tolerating your atrocities?"
"Ha. So... you don't want my notoriety shitting all over your shiny path to hero-hood?"
"Mm. Spot on."
Before the regression.
At that inn table, Kaild had said the exact same thing.
No more tolerating atrocities.
In a way, I was saying the same now.
Back then, Kaild's words had been far more serious, the mood far warmer.
But Neril's reaction had been ice-cold.
Now, though.
"Pfft. Ahaha!"
She was doubled over, howling with laughter.
Weird.
I'd said it way less cool than Kaild—why was she loving it so much?
Neril laughed for a good while before wiping her eyes and saying.
"You really don't hide a damn thing, do you."
"Huh?"
"Yeah. It's refreshing, you laying it all out like that. Fine. No more atrocities. I was gonna quit after Gray anyway."
She glanced toward Gray as the trial neared its end.
It barely qualified as a trial anymore.
The crowd was hurling stones and spit, roaring their fury.
The lord should've stepped in to mediate, but he stayed silent—probably figuring it was time to let off some steam.
Thwack.
Blood trickled from Gray's forehead as he cried out.
"Ugh. Y-your honor! Someone just threw a stone at me!"
"Quiet!"
"No, you have to stop them! I haven't even been proven guilty yet..."
"The guilt of Gray Palm is hereby confirmed."
The judge cut him off and slammed down the gavel.
Gray slumped into his seat like the sky had caved in.
"Waaah. Uhuhu. Spare me, please. I'll live right from now on. Mercy, I beg you."
"Shut your trap, you filthy scum!"
"He's a Demon King! That bastard's the Demon King reborn!"
"Burn him alive right now!"
"Give us back our daughter!"
Gray's pitiful wails echoed through the chaotic inferno where no one knew up from down.
Neril crossed her arms and smiled in satisfaction.
"If I'd just killed Gray outright, all his other crimes would've stayed buried. His victims might've even pitied and mourned the bastard."
"Probably."
"Thinking about it turns my stomach. Good call listening to you."
"..."
"This had to be the right way. So, uh."
Neril scratched her cheek once, then turned slightly away from me.
"Thanks."
"Sure."
"You put some real effort into saying that, and bam—instant reply? Were you just waiting for it?"
"Yeah. You're not the type to let gratitude slide halfway."
"Hmph. You talk like you've known me forever."
I just smiled.
Neril scowled, clearly irked by it.
"You really think you can become a hero?"
"Yeah. But."
"No chance. Heroes chosen by oracle have a whole different vibe from the start. The Hero's Mark shows up on their forehead."
Mm. Fair point.
Even I, who'd suspected Kaild nonstop before the regression, never once thought he might not be the hero—thanks to that mark.
Heroes chosen by oracle get the Hero's Mark on their forehead.
Neril said.
"First off, we fake that pattern."
"Gotta scout some skilled makeup artists. Mercenary guild's bound to have a few."
"As if that'd work. Might fool commoners or low nobles, but the higher you climb, the quicker they'll spot the fake."
"..."
"I'll make it. The mark."
My eyes went wide.
Neril pressed on.
"My magic can fool anyone. Well, a real hero might see through it—but that's on you."
"Neril."
"There's tons more you'll need. You've gotta wield the hero's sword, earn the spirits' approval, conquer the trials of past heroes, right?"
She stared off at some distant peak as she went on.
"You can't handle it solo. I'll help."
For a moment.
My chest thudded oddly.
I tried to figure out why.
But the screen popped up first.
[Ding! Gained 100 Fame Points.]
[Your name echoes throughout Drucker territory. (All points collected!)]
[Your name will soon echo throughout Quelk territory.]
[Fame Points to next level: 970/1,000]
[Total Fame Points pending from this incident: 790]
[Neril Slaine thinks of you as 'A Man Who Keeps Catching My Eye.']
Uh.
What the hell.
'What's going on, Teacher Trail?'
[You're rattled. Your speech pattern's off.]
'Ahem. Sorry.'
[No worries. Makes sense. 'A man who keeps catching my eye'? You thinking what I'm thinking? That kind of thing?]
Your speech is off too.
I switched gears.
'Anyway, pull up the map.'
[Smart call.]
'Your speech is normal now.'
The continent map appeared onscreen.
The faint glow that had only touched Drucker territory before was now blazing bright.
Quelk territory was lighting up too.
Overall, the reach of my fame's influence had widened.
I studied the map.
'How's Kaild doing?'
[Lemme check. Hmm... This ain't funny.]
Last time, Kaild's fame—the black aura—spanned four territories.
Less than two weeks later, and it was up to five.
'His total fame?'
[Can't pin down exact numbers yet. Level up quick. Higher levels unlock that.]
Right.
I eyed the black aura again.
The sheer density—not just the area—screamed massive fame.
'Trail. The empire's split into forty territories total.'
[Geography lesson now?]
'Hear me out. Dead center of the empire, the Koskart Mountains stretch out long and horizontal. Basically bisects the whole place.'
I nodded at the map.
'And get this—right on the line, twenty territories each side.'
[Hmm.]
'I need the north side locked down first. Gotta hustle. Kaild's pulling way ahead.'
[Got it. So what's the move?]
"So what's the plan now?"
Right on cue, Neril chimed in.
I pretended to mull it over before replying.
"Gotta spread the name further first."
"Duh. Still no clue how that ties into becoming a hero."
"Thinking of touring the north regions slow, heading south. Any decent gigs lined up?"
"Beats me. I'm not some wandering merc like you—no intel."
"No sweat. Already got one picked."
"...You've got an annoying streak, you know that?"
I ignored her and fished the map out of my pack.
My prized possession before meeting Trail—but next to the screen version, it was embarrassingly crude.
[Getting the picture now? My majesty.]
"Here. This is us right now."
[There?]
"Next stop: Rior territory."
[Hey.]
Neril tilted her head.
"What's in Rior?"
"Nothing special. Not yet."
"You sound like you're reading the future."
I shrugged easily.
"Everyone's gotta have some secret weapon to get by, right? You included."
Neril flinched and shot me a glare.
"Was impressed when you rattled off the viscount's dirt and Gray's rap sheet... You got some secret-reading power or what?"
[That's right. Behold, my Eye of Omniscience!]
"Wish it were that easy, but call it insight from hard-earned experience."
[Hey, listen to me.]
"Whatever. Just don't go digging into my secrets—or you're dead."
[Excuse me, a reaction, please.]
"Watch it. I'm still a kid compared to you—too early to die."
[...]
"Oh, and use honorifics while we're at it."
"Understood, ma'am."
"...Drop it to casual."
"Roger that."
We shot the breeze with pointless chatter as we slipped out of Quelk territory.
The trial's feverish roar faded behind us.
By the time we snagged a carriage and cleared the territory fully, Trail suddenly sniffled.
[Sniff.]
'What? You crying? Why?'
[Sorry. I'll stay humble from now on.]
Weirdo.
After Maide and Neril departed for Rior territory, a guest arrived for Viscount Frank de Levan.
The viscount, who loved strutting about, couldn't raise his voice in front of this visitor.
One of the empire's two blades.
The vice-captain of the Knights of Light had come calling.
Alcahad symbolized raw military might, but the Knights of Light handled investigating and resolving anomalies and incidents across the empire.
Their investigative authority proxied the emperor's own.
No mere territorial lord could afford to quibble.
'Especially the vice-captain.'
Viscount Frank de Levan sipped his tea as he eyed Vice-Captain Jenia Side.
The blonde woman, barely past twenty, was hailed as the finest talent since the Knights' founding.
Viscount Frank de Levan said.
"There was indeed a recent disturbance in my territory, but I never dreamed the Knights of Light would investigate. How did word reach you so fast—just days ago?"
Despite the faint sarcasm in his tone, Jenia replied casually.
"Let's just say it's the empire's finest steed."
"...Either way, what's the rush? I didn't think that trial would draw this much attention from the capital."
"No. I'm not here for that."
"Pardon? Not to investigate that Gray fellow?"
"Who's Gray? Actually, don't answer. As I said—not interested."
Her indifferent tone made the viscount's eyebrow twitch.
'Cheeky little upstart. Handing out lofty titles like "proxy of the gods" or whatever. The Knights overhype their own.'
Had Maide been there and caught the viscount's thoughts, he'd have doubled over laughing.
The woman before him—Jenia Side.
Before the regression, she'd been Maide's comrade, a hero-party member, and a hero-grade talent.
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