Chapter 1

How to Live as a Hero in a Magical World

Prologue

People often say that heroes are born in troubled times.

An ordinary child, the kind you could find in any neighborhood, faces an age of chaos and awakens the talent needed to become a hero.

If those troubled times had never come, that child probably would have lived an ordinary life without ever realizing they had the talent of a hero.

The story people tell must contain the sorrow, respect, and sense of debt felt by those who were saved by heroes.

I understand that.

But from the perspective of someone who actually has to become the hero?

It's a terrible story.

Seriously, there is no better example of something that sounds good only on the surface.

Think about it.

Around seven hundred years ago, the first five heroes sacrificed their lives to close dangerous dimensional gates.

The Age of Chaos ended.

The world entered a period of recovery and eventually reached the Golden Age we live in now.

So, is that the end of the story?

A happy ending?

Will there never be a second Age of Chaos?

Could an even greater disaster than the first one appear?

"Oh, our heroes. May the blessing of mana be with them."

If people cried for them, thanked them, and even scattered flower petals in their honor, shouldn't they have worked hard to make sure the same tragedy never happened again?

Instead, everyone worked hard to return to being ordinary people living ordinary lives.

While that happened, the Magic Towers, once great storehouses of knowledge, were shut down.

Magic involving living beings was forbidden.

The genius revolutionaries who had appeared during the recovery period disappeared.

A religion that worshiped mana took control of nations and political power.

The nobles became corrupt while chasing the wealth they had accumulated.

The world erased its memories of the Age of Chaos.

At this point...

Wouldn't it be stranger if another Age of Chaos didn't come?

Ah, you think it'll be fine?

Because heroes are born in troubled times?

Then what about the ordinary lives that will collapse before those heroes finally awaken?

What about the people who will die?

And most importantly...

What about the hero who has to carry all of that?

Me?

Fine.

I've decided.

I, Kaian Belore Valentin, may have been caught by some strange horned elf and ended up signing a contract saying I'd become a hero, but...

I will never become a hero who has to carry everything alone.

This isn't a road one person can walk alone.

Even the first heroes came as a group of five.

So why should I have to do everything by myself?

An ancient wise man once said that more is better.

And heroes are definitely something you want more of.

Five isn't nearly enough.

There need to be so many heroes that another Age of Chaos can never happen again.

That's also the only way precious heroes won't die young.

Heroes are useful to the world.

So the longer they live, the better.

Wouldn't it be horribly unfair to suffer through everything and then die young on top of that?

Yes.

I've decided.

I, Kaian Belore Valentin, swear on the name of my family.

I will become a hero who lives a long and healthy life.

From this moment on, that is my dream.

Just watch me.

I'll become the kind of hero who has lots and lots of companions and lives a long, healthy life.

1.

2.

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2.

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Excerpt from Kaian's diary on his ninth birthday.

Chapter 1: The Beginning of Everything

It was a night on the border so dark that even the moonlight seemed to hold its breath.

Morden stared at the Valentin estate, which quietly rested in the darkness.

For a minor noble from the frontier like him, it was the estate of a great family he should never have had reason to visit in his entire life.

He desperately tried to calm his pounding heart.

Haah... I suppose I am too insignificant a man to defy Heaven's will.

The owner of the estate before him, House Valentin, was known as the Emperor's right hand and had protected the borders of the Empire for generations.

In a world where everyone used magic, the position of a noble family could only rise and survive through its achievements and reputation.

In that respect, House Valentin could be called the perfect example for every noble family.

Even during the peaceful Golden Age, House Valentin refused to depend on magic tools.

They stubbornly insisted on practicing pure and powerful magic, almost to the point where others thought them foolish.

They also worked tirelessly to develop and spread knowledge.

Because of that, they maintained good relationships with many schools of magic and served as advisers to several government departments.

At the same time, their personal lives were unbelievably modest.

They listened to the suffering of ordinary people and reached out to those in need without asking for anything in return.

They could not tolerate injustice.

They cherished all living things.

And they especially loved the arts.

A living example of noblesse oblige.

That was House Valentin.

Morden had respected House Valentin his entire life.

He had always tried to follow in their footsteps, even if he could only reach the tips of their shoes.

But today...

All those efforts would end with him helping destroy House Valentin.

Morden looked toward the estate once again.

It resembled a mountain range that had remained unmoved despite countless years of wind and storms.

The pride and dignity built over generations seemed to shine proudly even in the silence of the night.

Fear shook Morden's eyes.

Maybe I should stop, even now...

At that moment, the communication magic tool planted in his ear, [Whisper], produced an unpleasant noise.

Bzzzz.

It sounded like an insect crawling through his ear.

[Whisper] was a crude magic tool created by the <Noble Alliance> to replace [Mind Link], a noble contract spell that could only be established through mutual trust.

Morden sent a small amount of mana into [Whisper].

Click.

The connection opened.

A strange voice, like metal scraping against metal, entered his ear.

[The Emperor's eyes have been blinded.]

Goosebumps rose across the back of Morden's neck.

That voice is horrible no matter how many times I hear it.

Worse, the man's voice always brought frightening and unpleasant news.

Even now, he had just announced that they had blinded the Emperor's eyes, the only lifeline that might have saved House Valentin.

Morden groaned inwardly.

So we can't even hope for help from the Emperor anymore.

Then who could save House Valentin from tonight's attack?

Was House Valentin truly going to disappear like this?

No... That can't happen.

House Valentin was one of the few true noble families left in this land.

They were the final piece of goodness remaining in a corrupt Empire.

If House Valentin disappeared, what would be left in this world?

Wouldn't only nobles with horrible voices bringing horrible news remain?

Morden wanted to abandon this terrible conspiracy even now.

As if the man had sensed his hesitation, that scraping voice came through [Whisper] once more.

[Do not forget. Once this matter is successfully finished, your son's illness can be cured.]

"...!"

Without realizing it, Morden placed a hand against the pocket over his chest.

Thankfully, he could still feel the small glass bottle there.

The medicine bottle had grown warm from his body heat.

The purple liquid inside it represented one more day of life for his son, Damian.

Morden's face twisted painfully.

Ah... What a fool I am. Why am I suddenly trying to protect my conscience now?

Even if it meant going against Heaven's will.

Even if it brought an even more terrible world into existence.

He had still joined hands with this horrible man because he wanted to save his own son.

He was already a villain.

[Move.]

The communication ended.

A faint mechanical sound rang inside his ear.

With trembling hands, Morden pushed the medicine bottle deeper into his chest pocket.

Countless dark thoughts wrapped around his soul.

Even so, Morden raised his right hand high above his head.

Thirty shadows hidden within the darkness of the forest immediately prepared to attack.

They were mages.

Yet not one of them carried a staff.

Instead, they held [Crimson Bombs], inside which unstable red mana flickered dangerously, and [Highest-Grade Scrolls] worth dozens of gold coins each.

This was a war fought by burning money instead of mana.

That was how the <Noble Alliance> fought.

It was also the reason they hated House Valentin, which tried to teach people real magic.

As long as something genuine existed...

A fake could never be sold at a high price.

Morden clenched his teeth.

But if joining hands with those fakes can save Damian... then even if I spend the rest of my life drowning in guilt, I won't regret it.

At last, he lowered his raised hand.

A dizzying feeling pierced his temples, as if he had just stepped off a cliff.

But it was already too late to turn back.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Thirty [Crimson Bombs] flew toward the protective barrier surrounding the Valentin estate.

They were as beautiful as a meteor shower crossing the night sky.

And before this night was over, blood even redder than those meteors would stain the land.

Thunder exploded across the ground.

BOOOOM!

A blood-red flash covered the moonlight.

The sacred defensive barrier said to have been granted by the Emperor screamed as it was torn apart.

It was the moment when destructive power bought with money swallowed something sacred.

The soldiers of House Valentin stared in horror at a sight they had never even imagined in their nightmares.

"We're under attack!"

"The barrier is down! Everyone, prepare for battle!"

But the soldiers were not even given a chance to fight properly.

The attackers in black robes did not chant spells.

They simply tore scrolls apart and threw bombs with mechanical efficiency.

There were even fewer soldiers protecting the Valentin estate than one would normally find guarding the estate of a small frontier noble.

The attackers laughed inwardly.

House Valentin has been ruined by its own obsession with living modestly.

BOOM! BOOM!

Drunk on the power of their magic tools and the feeling of victory, the attackers advanced without fear.

Before long, they reached the main building.

Only Morden still felt his mouth drying from nervousness.

He shouted toward the others.

"The head of House Valentin and his wife still haven't appeared! Do not lower your guard!"

House Valentin had breathed life into an Emperor who had once been little more than a puppet.

Wherever they went, they earned the love of the people.

They had even threatened the authority of the <Noble Alliance>, which had lasted for hundreds of years.

There was only one reason they had been able to do all of that.

Their overwhelming magical power.

A sacred defensive barrier means nothing compared to their strength!

At that moment, every window of the main building shattered at once.

CRASH!

Pieces of glass shot outward like a storm and struck the ground in front of the attackers.

Their advance stopped.

Then the front doors of the main building opened.

Creeeak.

The head of House Valentin stepped outside.

He was a strongly built man with red and white mixed through his hair.

He quietly looked over the hooded attackers.

Then his gaze moved past them to his fallen soldiers.

He spoke in a low voice filled with sorrow.

"How foolish. The age when blood was repaid with blood ended long ago."

He clenched both hands.

Brilliant crimson mana rose around his fists.

"And yet you would destroy the peace so carelessly?"

"Urgh...!"

The overwhelming difference in mana crushed the attackers.

Even Morden could barely breathe.

He dug his fingers into his frozen legs.

What is this...?! It feels as though a giant is crushing my entire body in its hands!

Without hesitation, the head of House Valentin drove his bare fist into the ground.

BOOM!

The chant that followed was short and powerful.

"[Stone Spire, Wave.]"

"Dodge!"

Morden shouted desperately.

But creatures with two feet could not easily escape from the earth beneath them.

Stone spikes erupted like towers and swallowed the attackers in an instant.

Rrrrrumble!

Window frames.

The side buildings.

The back gate.

Anywhere connected to the ground where an enemy stood, waves rose from the earth without exception.

Those standing close to the estate were immediately impaled by stone spikes bursting from below.

CRUNCH!

"Argh!"

"Ghk!"

Even those who barely escaped were left shaken.

The enormous stone spikes rose so high they seemed ready to pierce the moon.

They blocked the attackers' vision and sealed the path leading toward the head of House Valentin.

Even fireballs raining toward them were easily stopped.

And whenever one of the stone structures collapsed, another rose even higher.

RUMBLE!

There were no tools.

Only the will of the caster forcing nature itself into submission.

It was overwhelming power that money could never buy.

It was simply on another level.

"W-What is this...?"

"How are we supposed to fight something like that...?"

Confusion appeared across the attackers' faces.

They had assumed the operation would be easy because they carried [Highest-Grade Scrolls] and expensive magic tools.

Seeing them hesitate, Morden shouted.

"More forces are coming! Overwhelm him with numbers! His mana has to run out eventually!"

The head of House Valentin could also see the reinforcements approaching.

For a moment, he looked up at the sky.

There was no moonlight.

Only darkness.

It has been quite some time since the sacred barrier broke. It seems we cannot expect help.

He instinctively understood that his death was approaching.

He had followed the final wishes of the old heroes, who said that a mage must constantly train their magic.

He had spent his entire life practicing magic without turning his attention anywhere else.

Even though it had led him to this night, he still felt no regret.

There was only one thing that troubled him.

His youngest son.

Kaian... I have to protect that child. He's far too young to die because of an internal political struggle like this.

The head of House Valentin clenched his fist once more.

Crimson mana rose from his entire body.

The powerful shout of a man who knew exactly what he had to protect shook the battlefield.

"House Valentin is the family that protects the border! Not one of you will pass this place alive!"

He could not retreat yet.