The sudden stillness of the forest clearing was heavy with Naomi's despair. I watched her face crumple, the look of crushed hope making me feel, momentarily, like the villain she needed me to be.
"Don't go! Please! Can... can I join you on your journey?" Her voice was a desperate whisper as she lunged forward, clutching my hand.
My mind was clear. Sentiment is a vulnerability I can't afford. Taking her meant inviting chaos into the one place she was finally safe. My journey is not a training camp; it's a series of high-stakes gambits in an unknown world.
"No," I stated flatly. The word was a clean slice, severing the cord of attachment before it could fully bind us.
Her grip went limp. Her face was a mask of pain, and I felt a faint, familiar twinge of self-loathing. Necessary cruelty, I reminded myself. She will thank me later for this peace.
A ground-shaking roar announced Ryu's return. The dragon landed gracefully, the dust settling around us. He gave a low, knowing rumble—he'd done his small favor, checking on his counterpart here.
"I'm leaving Ryu with you here. He'll train you," I said, offering my final provision.
Ryu, predictably, played the noble protector. "Couldn't leave a vulnerable girl alone," he'd claimed. I suppressed a snort. The dragon simply wanted to exist in a universe where one of his species is alive(and he knows where she is) and without constant threat of me absorbing his essence. His chivalry was self-serving, and it perfectly aligned with my plans. It was a good, reliable foundation for a tactical arrangement.
"Thank you, mister Ryu."Naomi put her hand on ryu and ryu twitched.
A sharp enough person can easily tell that the dragon doesn't want to be touched by some lower beings as humans.
That racist dragon.
I gave Naomi one last, brief pat on the head—a gesture of finality, not comfort. I pulled my hand free and stepped back. "Goodbye, both of you. Also, Ryu, I'm leaving Naomi in your hands, don't disappoint me. I'm gonna ask about you from her when I'll return later." I made sure Ryu not leave Naomi alone.
Ryu nodded.
I activated the Multiversal Pass. The world dissolved into a shimmering wash of light. The last image burned into my vision was Naomi's silent tears, glistening on her cheeks. A profound sadness, beautifully painful, and instantly filed away under 'Sacrifices for Survival'. My task here was done. I had saved her life, cleared her name, and left her a dragon ally and a clear path to strength. I had no regrets about the decision, only the necessity of its execution.
I reappeared in a flash of light. I was back in my own timeline, two days after I had last left.
My first thought was Raphtalia and Filo. I ran a quick mental check. Safe with Sadeena. Training should be progressing well. The fear of my absence was outweighed by the safety of their location.
My next focus was politics. I needed to know the state of the kingdom and the whereabouts of the Queen. I went to Fitoria and told her to teleport me where queen is. She teleported to a small town near the capital of a different country, I used the few gold coins I had left to buy information. The news was a predictable disaster: international tensions were at a breaking point due to Melromarc's secret summoning, and the Queen was here(in faubray), at a conference.
This was an opportunity. The political maneuverings would be focused on the heroes' fate. They would be discussing my fate. I needed to insert myself into the conversation not as a victim, but as a player holding a power no one expected. I didn't need to win a debate; I needed to seize control of the narrative.
I learned the conference was in full swing, rife with accusations. They were desperate for a solution, a show of control.
I secretly went in a wide, echoing hall, filled with the stench of expensive perfumes and panicked, desperate nobles. I located the epicenter of the noise: a vast conference room. The air was thick with tension—a palpable mix of fear, anger, and arrogance. I could hear a delegate shouting at the Queen.
I waited for the perfect moment, timing my entrance to coincide with the Siltvelt representative's demand: to know if the rumor about the Shield Hero asking to be left alone was true.
I took a deep breath, centered my calm, and stepped through the conference hall entry gate. Every eye in the room snapped to figure who had just appeared (they didn't know I was shield hero yet). My voice, usually gruff, was controlled—calm and deep, cutting through the chaos with absolute authority.
Every politician, noble, and envoy in the vast conference hall was locked in a tableau, eyes boring into the figure now standing in the entry arch. I let them stare. My travel-stained cloak and utilitarian shield were a jarring contrast to the silks and polished wood, a visible representation of the chaos they were all desperately trying to manage.
I was back in my world, two days late, and stepping directly into the political epicenter of an international crisis. Perfect.
Queen Mirellia was the first to regain composure. Her expression, however, held a flicker of genuine shock before settling into the practiced mask of a sovereign. Beside her, Melty was wide-eyed, clearly recognizing me but overwhelmed by the sheer audacity of my timing.
The air was thick with the scent of fear and expensive perfume. I didn't raise my voice; I didn't have to.
"That's correct," I confirmed, stepping further into the room. "I am the Shield Hero."
A collective, muted gasp rippled through the delegates. I watched them, cataloging their immediate reactions: the hostility of the Faubrey contingent, the hopeful relief from the Siltvelt representative, and the calculating assessment in the eyes of the other nations.
"I don't care about politics," I stated, cutting through the rising tide of murmurs before they could form accusations. "And I won't waste time on excuses for an unnecessary summoning. You're here to talk about the Waves and the Heroes' refusal to play your diplomatic game. I'm here to solve that problem."
I paused, allowing the weight of the statement to settle. They expected a feral beast, or at best, a timid pawn. I gave them neither.
"For now, I'll remain in Melromarc," I continued, meeting Mirellia's gaze. "And let me be absolutely clear: the Queen is not 'forcing' us, nor has she 'tamed' anyone. If she were, I wouldn't be standing here, openly challenging the premise of this entire conference."
This declaration was a tactical gift to Mirellia—it neutralized the biggest political threat against her while maintaining my own autonomy.
A voice, precise and mildly sarcastic, cut across the room. It belonged to a blond young man near the front—too sharp, too calm, with a detached, almost bored curiosity in his eyes, like he was watching a play, not participating in a crisis.
"So the Queen hasn't tamed you," he drawled, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "But you're still choosing to stay here after knowing about all this commotion. All four heroes have refused to leave. If you had been summoned to another nation, would your choice still lead you back to Melromarc?"
A sly fox.
"Maybe not," I admitted readily. I refused to lie when a measured truth served better. "But that doesn't matter. What matters is that we were summoned here. King Aultcray is the one who acted prematurely and is now absent."
I glanced around the hall, establishing eye contact with several key delegates.
"You're wasting precious time dwelling on who is to blame," I pressed, injecting a hint of weary authority into my voice. "The Heroes exist to stop the Waves, not to be pawns in a political leverage game. My motivation is survival, not national allegiance."
A subtle shift. The mood was turning from outright hostility to pragmatic calculation. They were beginning to see me as a resource, not a captive.
"But you said you'll remain in Melromarc," a heavy-set envoy pressed, frowning. "How do you intend to help the rest of the world?"
"I can travel," I replied simply. "And I am not tied to a single place."
A noblewoman expressed skepticism, calling out the impossibility of traversing continents overnight. This was the opening I needed to deploy my key leverage.
"I can teleport" I explained, letting the word hang in the air. "To any location I've been before. Give me the coordinates and sufficient notice of an incoming Wave, and I will be there, it's an exclusive skill of shield hero." I don't know if the other heroes have discovered this skill or not.
The reaction was immediate—gasps, murmurs, and frantic note-taking. It was a clear display of unadvertised power. The sharp-eyed blond watched me, the smirk momentarily replaced by genuine fascination.
"That ability isn't unique to you, Hero," an older, experienced-looking king interjected, attempting to destabilize my claim. "All Heroes possess it. Did Melromarc fail to tell you that as well?"
So you want to turn me against the queen.
"I had assumed the ability was exclusive to me, yes," I replied, maintaining a calm, steady tone. "But if it's universal, that simplifies coordination. It means all four of us can respond to a global threat, not just a national one. Again, the facts change, but the objective remains the same: stop the Waves."
This diffused the political point. I used their attempt to corner me as a reason for international cooperation.
"So you'll only appear when there's a Wave, then?" the sharp-eyed blond asked, leaning forward with renewed interest.
"That's the plan," I affirmed, my voice final. "I am not a ruler, a general, or a diplomat. I am a fighter. My role is to fight. The rest," I paused, looking directly at the assembly of leaders, "is for the world's leaders to handle."