Leobolt had been wandering the royal capital alone. He hadn’t shown any feats of valor during the battle against Rebirth and his slime soldiers. Unable to regain any of the influence he once had, he had been ousted from his position.
He had succeeded in overthrowing the leadership previously, then ended up being overthrown himself. That had cost him his ability to remain in the Guard Corps—and since he had already given up his noble house to come to the capital, there was nowhere left for him to go.
Apparently, the guards still hadn’t been able to locate Rebirth’s actual whereabouts. He had heard rumors circulating around the city that they were fatigued from the constant recurring battles.
No matter how excellent Sieg’s defense power was, it did have its limits. And they still had no ideas on how to break through their impasse.
Having lost his place as their commander, Leobolt no longer had any right to fight alongside them. That was why he found himself wandering aimlessly around the capital instead.
Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain in the city square, Leobolt began to reminisce about his younger days.
Leobolt had always been brilliant, even as a child. He excelled in both academics and combat and was good-looking to boot; no matter what he sought to do, he always managed to accomplish it better than anyone else.
Leobolt’s father, as the head of their house, was delighted with his brilliance. He doted on his gifted son, urging him to become a successor who would expand their territory in the future.
However, Leobolt never had the slightest intention of taking over the family’s legacy. There was a specific reason for that: he absolutely despised his father, who had made the common people suffer by levying high taxes on them just to fatten his own fortune and had been secretly using those funds to indulge himself in constant luxury.
I was not born to inherit this tainted House. There must be some far grander role in life for me—a role that only I can perform.
He lived with that unbearable feeling for some time. Then, one day, he found something among the books brought in by a traveling merchant: a heroic tale.
His father only kept academic books with practical benefit in his library, and even Leobolt had only ever read books that were academic or historic. On a recommendation, he decided to buy one to see what it was all about, and that night in his room, he casually opened it up.
In that moment, Leobolt’s life changed. He realized he had finally found what he was looking for.
The heroes in the story were strong, kind, and honest. They never sought any recompense; they were focused entirely on fighting to save the world. He thought they were amazing—they were the ideal image of how he wanted to be.
I see now. I finally understand.
That was when everything fell into place for Leobolt.
I was born to become a hero.
His destiny was not to succeed his avaricious father, nor was it to lead the small population of their remote territory. His destiny was to be a hero who saved the world.
Of all heroic tales, he was most struck by those that had the Great Hero of legend as the main character.
It had to have been fate that Leobolt was born in Silvesta, the same kingdom where the Royal Capital of Astaroth was located. Astaroth was not only the Great Hero’s place of birth but also where the Orb of Light housing the sealed Demon King was kept. The city was under constant attack by demons trying to retrieve the Orb.
In spite of that, though, its neighboring regions offered little to no assistance, leaving Astaroth to its own devices when it came to defense. Or perhaps they just didn’t believe the tales at all, dismissing them as idle gossip.
Leobolt would make it his solemn duty to protect the Orb of Light, thus keeping the world out of the Demon King’s clutches.
Once he had determined what he was working toward, he devoted himself to training even harder. Having found a clear goal and trained diligently using his newfound sense of awareness, it wasn’t long before he became so powerful that those around him began calling him a Sword Saint.
Then, once he was confident that he had the strength to become a hero, Leobolt abandoned his house and went to Astaroth to become a guard and protect the Orb of Light. In the blink of an eye, he was promoted to squad sergeant, then on to the top rank of commander.
From there, he intended to build his ideal Guard Corps, devoting everything he had to protecting the world.
But alas...
Things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.
His ideals had been unceremoniously shattered in the face of reality.
I was supposed to become a hero who protects the world.
After losing his position as Commander of the Guard Corps, he had nothing to fall back on.
I did nothing wrong. Everything I did was for the sake of accomplishing my goal. I only did what was right for that purpose.
Not once had he put his personal desires first. His goal was to protect the world, and everything he had done was in pursuit of that goal. He was certain he hadn’t done anything wrong.
Which meant only one thing...
I am not wrong. Everyone else around me is.
The guards were a bunch of layabouts who neglected their training despite their lack of strength and had little awareness of the important role they played in protecting the world.
The citizens normally tried to flatter him by extolling his virtues, but the moment something came up that was counter to their interests, they turned around and became his harshest critics.
This world is beautiful—but the people who live in it are far too ugly. They deem what is right to be wrong and what is wrong to be right. They all think only in terms of their own benefit.
Up until now, I believed that I wanted to become a hero so I could protect the world—but is a world full of people like that really worth protecting?
Suddenly, a feeling of gloom developed within his breast.
As if in direct response to that feeling, a voice came booming out of nowhere:
“Yes, Leobolt. You are right.”
He looked around him with a start, but nobody was there.
Then he looked up to the sky. There, flying above the city’s barrier, he saw a bird.
No, wait. That’s—
Examining more closely, he saw that while the thing flying above looked like a bird, it definitely wasn’t one. Its body was translucent, and it had no facial features whatsoever.
It was a slime soldier that had assumed the form of a bird. It had most likely been conducting surveillance on the royal capital.
“You are...Rebirth, then...?”
“Well, well. I’m surprised you know my name.”
“What does the enemy general want with me?”
“I heard you were kicked out of the Guard Corps. To think they’d give up a man as brilliant as you... Enemies or not, they obviously have no eye for talent.” Rebirth projected his voice to his target.
“Enough prattle. State your business,” Leobolt said. “You’re at as much of an impasse as they are. And because I was rejected by them, I presume you’re trying to recruit me over to your side?”
“Impressive. That’s exactly right. The main issue is one particular man—the one they call Sieg, I believe. He is proving to be quite the nuisance. I want to tear down his defenses.”
“Do you really believe I’d side with the demons?”
“What other future do you have to look forward to at this point?”
Leobolt’s heart lurched.
Rebirth was absolutely right. He no longer had anywhere to go, nor anywhere to return to. He would never be able to become a hero.
“If the world is wrong, why not destroy it?” Rebirth asked. “The world is wrong for rejecting you. That just means you need to destroy this one—then create the ideal world you envision.”
Destroy the world that’s wrong, and create a world that’s right...
In a way, that would be the same as saving the world.
If I do that, I could still become a hero.
Leobolt could feel his heart wavering.
“Lend me your strength. With it, we can be victorious. You are the one man who can become a hero to the demons, Leobolt.”
A hero.
And there were others who needed him.
It was quite a comfortable feeling.