Clarifications:
-"Person Talking"-
-(Person Thinking)-
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[Skills or Magic]
(JC: Author's Notes)
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Let's start
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*Tap, tap, tap…*
Silent footsteps echoed throughout the castle.
The Demon Lord had already fled, leaving his stronghold behind. I was the rearguard. A sacrificial lamb. He had used me as a tool to the very end, never showing me even a shred of emotion along the way. The only kindness he ever showed me, I think, was when he called me by my name.
Do I hate him for that? Honestly, I wasn't sure. Was it the will of Ifrit, the high-level Fire Elemental, that made me serve him, or was it my own?
I still don't know. And I didn't much care about being a sacrifice. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
This castle appeared to be some kind of experimental facility. Yet abandoning it didn't seem like much of a loss in the Demon Lord's eyes. What puzzled me was his reason for leaving me here. I could have retreated instead of confronting whoever came, but he ordered me to stay.
Perhaps he had some plan in mind, but his thoughts remained a mystery to me.
The one who arrived was the so-called Hero.
She had long black hair tied back behind her head, and her light equipment was all a uniform shade of black. Her beauty rivaled that of the Demon Lord. The only difference was that she was a woman. A young woman.
The moment I saw her, I knew. I had no chance of winning. But I wanted to fight her to the end—not as a person, but as one Born of Magic with the power of fire. -(It's the least I can do)- I thought, to atone for the sin of living this long.
My sword of condensed flames was caught easily by the Hero's. My weapon burned with intense heat, able to tear through anything, and her simple curved blade stopped it. It made me doubt my own eyes. Without question, it was the power of the wielder rather than her sword.
Thanks to the training I took under the Demon Lord's trusted Black Knight, I had acquired a certain mastery of swordsmanship. It was nothing Ifrit had ever learned. I remembered how the knight praised me, telling me it was all my own talent at work.
As one Born of Magic, I was physically strong enough to stand among the upper ranks of Leon's guard. On top of that, I had mastered sword skills under the Black Knight's guidance. It was much more than Ifrit's power alone that made me such a close confidant of the Demon Lord.
And yet, nothing I did had any effect on the Hero. The strikes and slashes I had honed endlessly were countered without effort—gently deflected before our blades could even clash in earnest.
Even when Ifrit's blazing flames wrapped my entire body, the Hero remained calm, not shedding a single drop of sweat. Just as I had thought at first, she existed on a completely different plane.
Then I felt Ifrit falling asleep within me—a side effect of consuming too much Magical Energy. It was impossible to keep fighting. I had lost, unable to land even a single blow. I collapsed to the ground, confident that I had repaid the Demon Lord's favor. Somehow, I wished I could live a little longer, but I doubted a Hero could show mercy to someone Born of Magic like me.
-"Are you done already?" I heard her say. -"Why are you here?"
It was a little surprising. I had expected death to come in the next second. My head turned toward her. The Hero was a hunter of evil, and I was her enemy, one Born of Magic. If she cut me down right then, I would have no complaint.
-(What whim of hers brought on these questions?)- Timidly, I opened my mouth. Then I told her how I had been summoned to this world, how I had lived until now… what I had done.
It was selfish of me. I was one Born of Magic now. I had no right, no expectation, to believe in anything at all. But it was true—having someone take an interest in me and listen to my story made me happy. It left undeniable proof that I had been alive all this time. I could puff out my chest and proclaim to the world that I had lived, even if it was only in someone's memory. That was what I wanted to do.
I doubted the Hero would ever believe the tale of someone Born of Magic. But that was fine. If I could just carve out a small corner in her memory to occupy, that would be enough. And even so:
-"It's all right now. You've been through so much."-
She believed me.
Her words made me cry. The next thing I knew, I was clinging to her, sobbing. For the first time since I had arrived in this world, relief wrapped itself around me as I poured my true feelings out to someone.
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I ended up in the Hero's care.
Her face darkened when she saw my burn scars. I had grown used to them; the way they spread across half my body was proof that I was alive.
The Hero tried to use [Healing Magic] to do something about them. It didn't seem to work. Fusing with Ifrit had stabilized my body in its current state—scars and all. She thought for a moment, then drew a beautiful mask from a bag.
-"You know,"- She said. -"This mask helps increase your resistance to magic. You could use it to keep Ifrit inside you under control."-
She gave me a gentle stroke, then handed it to me.
The instant I put on the Magic Resistance Mask, it pinned Ifrit down inside me and concealed the burn scars all over my body. And that wasn't all. With Ifrit's will no longer overpowering mine, all the suppressed emotions I'd felt over the years immediately surged forth. The aches of loneliness. The fear of becoming someone Born of Magic. The deep shame of killing the first friend I had ever made. The intense hatred I held for this unjust world. Putting on that mask helped me regain the feelings I thought I had abandoned with my childhood.
The Hero held me until I could calm down. I remember how frightened I was afterward for a while—so afraid I couldn't even speak to anyone except the Hero. But she never complained. She treated me kindly. Little by little, she loosened the cords around my heart, teaching me how to talk to others once more.
I accompanied the Hero wherever she went, hiding myself in a full-body cloak. I was always following her, afraid she would leave me behind. That was when I was introduced to the Adventurers' Society. I was, as people put it at the time, a silent girl—one who always covered her face with a mask. One who never dared to step beyond the Hero's shadow. A useless piece of baggage.
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One day, something happened to me at the society, which I had visited several times with the Hero. A man, concerned after seeing how I joined her in all her monster-slaying work, spoke up:
-"Is that masked one a girl?"- He asked. -"Don't you think she should stay here this time? This will be a dangerous -
All I could do was tremble at the thought. At that moment, the Hero was the only person on the planet I could muster the courage to trust. The Hero meant everything to me, and I couldn't bear the idea of being separated from her. I was sure the adults would kill me if they learned I was Born of Magic. I had at least that much common sense.
The Hero gave me a small smile.
-"It's going to be all right,"- She said reassuringly. -"Everyone here is really nice, okay? You're a strong girl too. It'll be fine. "-
I think that's what made me do it. I wanted to live up to the Hero's expectations, and I knew this couldn't go on forever. Something about the way she spoke always seemed to overflow with confidence as well. It made me believe that what she said was true.
It was with a strange sense of calm, then, that I parted from her that day.
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In the waiting room next to the society's reception, I began to study.
That was when I learned I was in the Kingdom of Blumund. There were several other nations nearby, I discovered, clustered around the Jura Forest. And that wasn't all. When they weren't managing the society's problems, the workers there taught me arithmetic, as well as several different writing systems.
I listened carefully to the adventurers passing by as they spoke about the neighboring nations. My knowledge of these other states and the balance of power between them was weak at first, but I still gained a working understanding. For someone like me, who had barely seen the inside of a school, the society became my place of learning.
I studied magic as well. The society was home to sorcerers, shamans, wizards, and witches, along with many others versed in the magical arts. I was fortunate enough to build friendships with them, and they, in turn, taught me about the mysteries of the world.
There was much of what they said that seemed incomprehensible to me. But what I needed most was to learn how to deal with the Elemental Spirits. Ifrit, a High-Level Elemental, was fused with me. Apparently, this allowed me to draw on his abilities without the formality of forging a pact with him. But remember—I still wore the Magic Resistance Mask.
Carefully, I tried to find a way into Ifrit. Soon, I discovered ways to manipulate his abilities without demanding a burden on my own body.
Somewhere along the line, I came to be known as the Flame Conqueror. I was an Elementalist, gifted in the arts of fire and explosive magic, and I had grown to the point that no one minded me joining the Hero on her adventures. In fact, she had fully accepted me now—not as a traveling companion, but as a true partner.
It made me so happy. I worked so hard for so long to help her, for the woman who had saved my life to recognize me for who I was. All the effort had been worth it. Life was good.
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Several years later, however, the Hero set out on a journey. Without me.
I didn't know why. The Hero must have had her motivations, just as I had mine. I intended to depart someday as well, so I had no right to complain.
Did she want to kill the Demon Lord I had once served? No, the truth was…
She had saved me, then left me. Perhaps I needed to find out why, and I wanted her to accept me once again. I wanted to show that I was alive, that I was human. It was exactly that kind of selfish hope that proved I had no right to stop her.
I had already grown—not a naïve child ignorant of the world. The drops slipping down from behind the mask must have been my imagination. I made myself believe it was true as I watched her leave.
-(Because I know I'll see you again…)-
The thought made me want to grow stronger than ever before.
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I continued traveling after she left me, across many countries. I wanted to help people in their times of need, just as she had.
Whether it was Ifrit's influence on me or not, my body had stopped growing at the age of sixteen or seventeen. One of the Demon Lord's curses, I thought, but it served me anyway along the way.
A large number of adventurers were in the business of handling other people's dirty work, gathering rare plants in the forest, killing monsters and harvesting them for useful materials, and so on. It was a line of work that stereotypically involved huge, heavy frames and equally bulging muscles. Pure strength earned respect and trust from others, as it meant one could defend themselves in work that flirted with the line separating life and death.
The Adventurers' Society attracted the kind of people who lived free lives, never tied down by any nation. If they got injured fighting a monster, they couldn't expect assistance from a government or anyone else. Nations already had their armies of knights to protect them. They didn't need the help of a dirty adventurer.
Sometimes, a Local Lord would ask them for help to drive a Monster out of their lands or villages, but there was no formal system to encourage cooperation between nations and adventurers. This meant that nations could only expand as far as their armies could physically defend—small pockets of civilization in a wild land.
There were times when cities were attacked by powerful Monsters. Three-headed snakes, winged lions, and such. Whenever these supposed calamities appeared near a settlement, they caused as much panic as a large-scale war.
Of course, one might expect governments to cooperate and create support systems that extended beyond national borders. And such agreements did exist, but that support always came after things had stabilized. Meanwhile, it was considered the country's responsibility to defeat the monster in question.
This was why those with full rights as city residents received special treatment, while others had to make do living in neighborhoods built in the dangerous areas around the walls. Such people eventually adapted to a life of plundering and exploitation. The strongest among them saw an adventurer's career as a way to protect themselves.
The wealth gap grew quickly between rich and poor. It was a dog-eat-dog world, one where the weak had no resources. I wanted to protect them. Just like the Hero, who had offered me the salvation I had longed for. If I abandoned them, I would be no different from my Demon Lord.
So I worked as hard as I could to be an ally of the weak. And at some point, people began to trust me. Calling me a Hero.
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A Dragon attacked the city, with enough power to match an entire army. A Calamity-level enemy, absolutely. Blumund immediately declared a state of emergency and put the nation on maximum alert. I was one of the many people enlisted.
A Calamity-Class Monster was usually discovered once every several years, but this one was different. No half-measure could disturb a Dragon, and the nation's body of knights was offensively too weak to provide any support. I provided all the offense I could in the effort, but my sword could do little against such an enemy, and I was barely a real threat.
If nothing was done, it would eventually cause thousands of deaths. So I decided to turn to Ifrit, who had been sleeping inside my body all this time.
The Dragon's stone-melting breath enveloped my body, but since I had fused with Ifrit, it felt like nothing more than a passing breeze. When it realized I was immune to its breath, that I was a fearsome force, it was already too late. Waves of searing flames shot from my hands, binding the Dragon before it could escape. In just a few moments, it was burned alive.
I, on the other hand, remained in a coma for a week afterward. The effort had weakened my magical strength. I was aging now, and I couldn't focus my spirit as well as I could in previous years. When my spirit faltered, so did my magic. Ifrit, and my bond with him, gave me more than enough Magical Energy to work with, but the vitality I needed to wield it was dying within me. I failed to notice the drain, thanks to my body's lack of aging. I had kept Ifrit restrained all that time—it was no wonder I had been consuming so much.
Well, all's well that ends well—the Dragon was defeated, after all, but if I had taken one more step, I could have unleashed an enraged Ifrit, a concept far more terrifying than any Dragon. I remembered the past, my face tense and pale. If I wasn't careful, I could very well incinerate the people I had sworn to protect.
It might be time, I thought, to call it a day. If I let myself grow weaker, Ifrit could go berserk inside me.
Retirement was something I had to consider, sooner or later. I discussed the matter with Heinz, one of the managers handling things at the Adventurers' Society.
-"If that's the case,"- He said. -"I advise you to travel to the Kingdom of Englesia. They're looking for masters in basic battle techniques there. There are many ex-adventurers out there, but if you can teach your skills to people, you'll never be struggling for work."-
He handed me a reference letter I could use.
-"Thank you,"- I replied. -"You've done so much for me."-
-"Ah, forget it,"- He protested. -"It's us who should be thanking you, Shizu! You've been a support to all of us."- He blushed. -"Well, have a good trip, I suppose. If you have some free time, come back and visit."-
Everyone bid me farewell before I left for good. It made me feel as if I belonged to this place. As if I had for years. I couldn't believe how happy it made me.
And so, toward the end of my career, I made the change from adventurer to instructor.
TO BE CONTINUED!!!
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Author's Notes
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Please note that this story is mostly centered around Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken and another novel that you may recognize. Please also note that Rimuru is completely replaced by my own character (Yukimaru). You are warned.
Disclaimers:
The character or story mentioned from an anime, or novel, does not belong to me. Instead, it belongs to Ichiei Ishibumi (High School DxD), Fuse, Mitz Vah (Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken) and Patora Fuyuhara (Isekai wa Smartphone to Tomo ni)
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Upcoming chapters (Spoilers):
Chapter 16- A New Beginning for the Goblin Village
Chapter 17- The Conqueror of Flames
Chapter 18- The End of a Long Journey