I Picked Up the Hero Who Banished Me

7 – [The Hero Who Captured the Demon Lord – 04]

“I have a favor to ask before we get to the village.”

Walking beside the hero, I was constantly worried that he might fall or lose consciousness.

He probably noticed I was on edge.

Unable to use his magic, and in such poor physical condition, just walking this distance was making the hero sweat, but he followed me without a single groan. Helping him was one option, but he insisted he could walk on his own, so I let him be.

“It feels incredibly guilt-inducing asking you for something in this situation, but.”

“You’re just noticing? What is it?”

“I’d like you to change how you address me.”

“Address you? …Ah, is that what you mean?”

“Huh? You understood with just that one word?”

“If you call me ‘Hero-nim’ in a place like this village, something big could happen. Even if we’re only passing through, there’s no need to stir up trouble.”

The Hero-nim stared at me with a slightly surprised look.

Was I maybe an idiot in her eyes? I don’t think of myself as a genius, but I don’t remember doing anything particularly stupid on this trip with her.

Or maybe I just look stupid?

“Is that not it?”

“No, you’re right. …Um, so it’d be good to pick a new way to call me. ‘Olivia Reinhart’ is no good either. I’m famous as the Hero Olivia Reinhart.”

“Then how about Livia?”

“Livia?”

“Since you’re Olivia, ‘Livia’.”

“……”

Was that too sloppy?

Is she finally gonna get mad?

Just as I thought that, Olivia gave a weak laugh.

“Not bad, it’s the first time someone’s ever called me that.”

“Is that so? Then just hold still for a moment.”

“What for?”

As I reached out a hand towards the Hero-nim, she flinched momentarily.

It seemed she had a repulsion towards physical contact, something I figured wasn’t her natural disposition, but likely a trauma response, something akin to being betrayed.

But being rejected by her like this, well, it just made me freeze up, do absolutely nothing.

Even just a trembling slap from her could send me tumbling to the floor, a corpse.

Tsk, thinking about it like that is a bit scary.

The light rippled from my hand as it slowly moved towards her head.

“Huh? This is…”

“Hero-nim… no, Livia-ssi’s hair color is too striking, you see. I’ve never seen white hair like that in my life other than with Livia-ssi.”

“…It’s a trait of the Reinhardt family.”

“Then it’s all the better that we changed it.”

Her pure white hair was dyed black, the same color as mine.

“Black…”

“Elvenheim is to the east, and that hair color is most appreciated in eastern countries.”

“I guess so. … You really are kind.”

“I always thought I was kind to Livia-ssi?”

Back when we were in the party, had I ever treated the Hero-nim badly?

If anything, I’d say I was the kindest of the party members.

It’s not that I was a self-aggrandizing person, but I had saved her from danger before, and I was the one who gave her all sorts of information and knowledge.

Honestly, so, when I was exiled, I thought, even though I understood the situation, that she was an ungrateful b*tch.

“Yeah, you were always kind… I just didn’t realize it.”

“…I’m glad you know that now.”

It’s more crumpled than I imagined.

I prefer something more confident.

Looks like the thick mask I wore, while being betrayed, hurt, and nearly killed, has shattered.

I don’t even have the leeway to play the strong, perfect hero, and maybe the current hero doesn’t have that leeway anymore either.

As a person, I’d say I prefer the hero as they are now, but what should I say?

It’s not that I enjoy being cursed at, but regardless, seeing someone so lacking in confidence is hard to watch.

‘Cut me some slack, I’m not a therapist, you know.’

If she has wounds,

and if they’re wounds of the heart,

it’s hard for me to deal with.

I could say there’s nothing I can do.

All I can do is pray that she can heal her own wounds.

*

Breathing is agonizing.

No matter what wounds I’ve suffered, I’ve never been in this much pain.

I can feel the Reaper’s poison gradually gnawing at my body, trying to kill me.

Royce called this poison ‘poison,’ but evaluated it as a corruption that should be classified more accurately as a ‘curse,’ and now I agree.

Did my companions, including Alex, hate me enough to leave this curse on me and try to kill me?

I thought I was playing the hero role well, but maybe no one actually thought I was doing it right, and maybe no one is grateful to me at all?

Maybe everyone, far from being grateful, doesn’t even see me as a hero?

Then what am I even for.

“Ms. Livia, the carriage is ready.”

“…….”

Your presence throws me into confusion again.

Protecting the hero I’m meant to protect.

Being here, beside me, when I have abandoned you, and am left with no one.

If only some wicked intent or similar emotion had flickered in those eyes, it wouldn’t have been so bad to let myself be tainted by that darkness, to sink into it.

But you didn’t, and that makes me so incredibly confused.

“What’s the reason people help each other?”

“Well, maybe it’s so that someday they can be helped, too?”

“…….”

“No one can do everything on their own. Even Ms. Livia must have been helped by someone as a baby. That’s how you survived that time and grew stronger. It’s the same kind of thing.”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not something someone who has saved and helped more people than anyone in this world should say.”

Right.

I saved and helped a lot of people.

Most of my short life was spent saving and helping people, and the title of hero and the power I wielded made the unit of life I could save different during this brief life.

I even defeated the Demon King and saved the world, and as a result, I could confidently say I have saved more people than anyone currently living.

That was Olivia Reinhart, the Hero.

“But I didn’t save them because I *wanted* to. …I saved them because I *have* to be the hero.”

“Either way, you saved them.”

“……”

“Whatever the reason, isn’t that enough? Do you, Livia, analyze the motives of every criminal you fight before you deal with them?”

“If it’s a monster, no questions asked. If it’s a human, unless it’s a really serious crime, I don’t ask for reasons.”

“Right, just like killing someone is a sin and an evil act, no matter the reason, saving a life is an act of good and a good deed, no matter the reason.”

“……”

Silence.

Noticing the silence, Royce looked at me.

“And, you know, you can save people without being the hero. …Like how I just saved you. Well, ‘saved’ is maybe a strong word for the moment, but still.”

“So, is the hero… pointless?”

I asked, haltingly. The question was directed at Royce, but it was also for myself.

If the world can save people like that, what is the point of a hero who exists to save and protect people?

Are they truly meaningless, fleeting, just needed as an ‘assassin’ to kill the Demon Lord?

“…Royce?”

Royce knelt down on one knee in front of me, meeting my gaze.

“You were the hope of humanity, you saved countless people. What else can you call the one who dealt with the disasters and monsters that brought so much pain to so many, if not the hero?”

“But.”

“You’re sick right now.”

“I know.”

The reaper’s poison or whatever it was, it’d sunk its fangs deep into me, killing me from the inside out. Maybe it shouldn’t be called a disease, but whatever it was, it sure as hell hurt.

But Royce, like he didn’t quite mean *that*, just gave an awkward laugh, climbed into the carriage first and then reached a hand down to me.

“A disease isn’t always something physical. A fever in the heart, being held by the chains of the past, those too can be called diseases.”

“….You’re saying *I’m* like that?”

“I know you’ve struggled more than anyone else. Of course, I don’t like you personally, but I remember the numerous achievements and efforts you made.”

“….”

Royce spoke to me calmly, like he was reading from a book.

His voice was somehow reassuring, it felt like it was ringing directly inside my head, through my ears.

I naturally took Royce’s hand and climbed into the carriage. Then, Royce said,

“I don’t want to see someone like you face a tragedy.”

“Is that your reason for helping me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember ever being good to you.”

“I don’t either.”

And yet, he’s helping me.

The reason for helping people was always tagged with the excuse: ‘Because I’m the hero.’ Now that I wasn’t a hero, could I even help anyone? Could I even have that kind of heart?

“You’re just accumulating debt with me.”

“Think of it as getting back the grace you gave the world. It might even be too little, considering how many people you saved.”

“….”

People around me were always busy singing praises, there were plenty who spoke of my achievements.

But their dark intentions were so blatant, and I couldn’t find any worth in their vanity-filled words.

“We’re leaving.”

“Yeah.”

A rattling sound.

The carriage moves, accompanied by the whinnying of the horse.

In that uneven jostling.

It’s a ridiculous thing for this body to say, but I felt a sense of peace.