The Unveiled Veil (2):
I rolled across the ground, nearly falling over, and landed behind the ogre.
Normally, I'd stab or slash from behind, but I already knew that my weak strength wasn't enough to pierce through an ogre's hide. So I didn't get greedy—I simply hurled my body at him with everything I had and shoved him.
I pushed with all my might, keeping in mind the ogre's massive size and strength. I hit him so hard I bounced backward. Honestly, I thought my shoulder was going to shatter.
Maybe the heavens heard my desperation, because the ogre's body tilted forward.
I scrambled to my feet and stepped back to get a clear view of him.
Right in front of him—was the cliff. If he fell, I'd win.
His upper body had already leaned completely past the edge. If he fell like that, he'd go headfirst. If it were feet first, maybe he could manage something, but like this? There was no way he'd climb back up.
…Or so I thought. This damn ogre bastard—
He twisted his body mid-fall and grabbed my ankle!
"Shit!"
Damn it—I didn't account for how long his arms were.
My body was yanked downward, my vision flipping wildly.
The sky grew distant—I could tell just by watching the clouds shrink in real time.
And then—
Boom!!
A heavy impact shook my entire body.
"Ugh."
I felt like my insides had turned to mush.
I forced down the rising nausea and braced my hands against the ground to try and get up.
Squish.
…Squish?
Oh, right—I was holding a dagger. But… was the ground supposed to feel like this?
I steadied my spinning vision and looked around.
Surrounded—on all sides—by demons. And not far off stood the Hero and the Demon King.
…Wait? What? What the hell?!
Beneath me… was that same ogre from before. The one who fell with me. And the place my dagger stabbed when I tried to push myself up—was none other than his neck.
'So even ogres can be stabbed if you put your whole weight into it—wait, that's not the point!'
I just dropped right into enemy territory, didn't I?! And I killed one of their own right in front of them, didn't I?! That's what this is, right?!
It was so sudden that everything had gone silent.
Even the Demon King said nothing. In that terrifying stillness, I knew I had to move—before they snapped out of it.
My survival instincts pointed me toward the Hero.
His body was glowing ominously, like he might self-destruct, but I had nowhere else to run.
Demons surrounded me on all sides—where else could I go? And running toward the Demon King was out of the question.
And yet, here I was—forced to rely on the half-dead, possibly-about-to-explode Hero as my only lifeline. The absurdity of it all left a strange expression on my face as I carefully walked toward him, doing my best to keep my legs from trembling.
I reached him quickly.
The Hero, who'd been staring at me with wide eyes since I fell, met my gaze and let out a weary smile.
He moved his lips, trying to say something—but I couldn't hear a word.
'Is he too weak to even speak?'
He didn't have to say anything, but I was curious. So, with unnecessary kindness, I grabbed his shoulder and leaned in to listen.
Through the rasping of his breath, a faint voice trickled into my ear.
"You're… truly…"
"…?"
That was all.
Seriously? That's it? What were you even trying to—
'!?'
I felt it then. The anomaly.
The light pouring out from the Hero's body suddenly surged into me.
At first, I was stunned. But it didn't take long to figure out what he intended.
'He wants to pass his power to me.'
—Even at the cost of abandoning the one chance to kill the Demon King through self-destruction.
More than joy or gratitude, what I felt was pity.
A Hero's power can't be transferred intentionally.
The closest thing would be scattering fragments of that power across the continent.
A method so random that not even the Hero could predict who would receive them. In other words, his will meant absolutely nothing.
And sure enough, I felt his power pass right through me.
It didn't settle. It didn't linger. Like water through a net, the light flowed on, fragmenting like ash burnt out, scattering far and wide.
Soon, it would probably spread across the whole continent.
'Why does this feel like I just became a lightning rod?'
Taking in the full force of the Hero's power and failing to hold on to even a sliver of it.
'…What a fool.'
He had to know—he had to have felt that his power wasn't sticking. So why didn't he give up?
The stream of power began to fade. Along with it, the Hero's body slowly slumped forward, leaning into me.
His end was near.
'Ah, our eyes met.'
He gave me one final faint smile, as if to comfort me.
In that moment, a strange compulsion to say something gripped me—but before I could, the flow of energy stopped, the light vanished, and his body went completely limp.
I stood there, speechless, overwhelmed by emotions I couldn't even name.
But it didn't last long. I felt it then—the unnatural stillness in his body.
'…He's dead.'
My one and only lifeline.
I checked again—no breathing. Not a single pulse.
In the daze caused by the impact, one fact I'd forgotten floated back into my mind.
The stillness that fell when I dropped. That silence...
"..."
"..."
…was still going on.
Realizing that sent a sharp jolt of awareness through me, and suddenly the countless eyes pouring in from all directions began to feel unbearable.
As I slowly and hesitantly got to my feet, those eyes gradually followed me upward.
Ah, it would've been better if I'd just stayed ignorant until the end.
Now that I could feel all those gazes tracking my every movement, my whole body stiffened with tension. All the more so because one of those stares belonged to the Demon King.
M-My legs trembling? Must be in my head. No, wait—my hands are shaking too.
'It's not just in my head!'
This was bad.
I'd studied hard before ending up here, so I knew better than anyone—showing weakness in front of demons, creatures built for survival of the fittest, would get me devoured on the spot.
So I had to get out of here—fast.
"Cough!"
Drip.
A mouthful of blood burst from my lips.
I'd been holding it in since the moment I fell. Forcibly.
'Damn it, why now of all times…!'
I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek.
I knew the impact from the fall had rattled my body pretty badly, but I thought I'd held up decently well. I didn't expect it to all come spilling out now.
Honestly, I was about ready to chuck this wretched body and get a new one.
To make matters worse, the hero's limp body was so heavy.
'I need to run, but he's dead weight like this. Should I just ditch him and bolt?'
I was seriously weighing my options when, suddenly, the Demon King's tightly shut lips parted.
"You. What's your name?"
What was the meaning behind that?
Was it a warning, like: "If you run, I'll find and kill you, so don't even think about it"? Or maybe he planned to learn my name so he could hunt down or threaten my family.
Not that it mattered. The odds of me escaping alive were already close to zero, so giving my name wouldn't change much.
But… my family, huh…
"…Deon Hart."
The cool wind tousled my white hair, brushing against my cheek. I swept it back, then gently touched the corner of my eyes, where red irises glowed, and smiled faintly.
There—I gave you my name. Do what you want with it.
I'd steeled myself for whatever came next, but what he said was completely unexpected.
Something I never could've imagined. Something I thought impossible.
"Ever consider joining the Demon King's army?"
For the first time in my life, I got scouted—by the Demon King.
I didn't feel happy about it. He called it an offer, but let's be real—there wasn't much choice involved.
Anyone could guess what would happen if I said no.
But I'm not someone who gets shaken by threats like that!
Still holding onto the hero's body as it kept sliding down in my arms, I dared to express my rejection right to the Demon King's face.
"I'm not a fan of paperwork!"
…Okay, maybe I phrased it a bit roundabout, but it was a clear "no."
I'd heard the demon army commanders get buried in paperwork. No way was I sticking around here just to suffer through that.
"Then don't do any."
"…Huh?"
"Hmm… let's see. What kind of high-ranking position doesn't involve paperwork…"
Excuse me?
"Well, if there isn't one, I'll just create it. How about Commander of the Zero Corps? Sound good?"
Wha—Wait, hold on! Are you insane?!
The First Corps Commander acts as the Demon King's representative, and you want to make me the Zero Corps Commander? When I haven't even proven my strength yet?!
"Don't worry about objections. Anyone who witnessed this scene wouldn't dare speak against it."
It was only then that I realized.
Something had gone very, very wrong here.
In the end, I was backed into a corner, and the more I refused, the better the offer became. Crushed under the sheer pressure of it all, I had no choice but to accept the very first offer—
The title of Zero Corps Commander.
BOOM!!
When Deon Hart came crashing down with a heavy thud, the hero was so stunned he couldn't even express it in words.
If not for the sword impaled in his stomach, he might've leapt to his feet.
Because the outcome… was already decided.
The Hero had failed to kill the Demon King—and now, all that remained was for him to die by the Demon King's hand.
A Hero who failed to slay the Demon King had no value.
All the treatment and honor afforded to the Hero stemmed from one fact: he was the only human who could potentially kill the Demon King. If he couldn't fulfill that purpose, then of course all of it would be stripped away.
Put simply, a Hero who loses to the Demon King becomes a man unworthy of saving.
So then why.
Why didn't he just run?
Why had he come to this battlefield where death was certain?
Deon Hart. He had not only the duty of a comrade, but also the responsibility to report the outcome of the battle to the Empire.
Which meant it would have been far more beneficial to quietly withdraw than to charge into a place where death awaited him.
And yet, he'd barged right into the heart of enemy territory—and now, was walking this way without a trace of fear.
Ha… haha…
A hollow laugh escaped with his labored breath.
Don't tell me… in that short time, you actually developed some kind of camaraderie? So now you're here to recover a corpse?
──Even while facing the Demon King?
Maybe it was the sword embedded in his gut, but a strange sensation began bubbling up from his lower abdomen and coiled around his heart.
Unable to speak from the indescribable feeling, his lips merely trembled wordlessly for a while—until Deon, growing impatient, gripped his shoulder and leaned in close to hear.
That push was all the Hero needed to make one final, reckless decision.
"You're… really…"
So different from the image known to the world. So recklessly kind and loyal.
If a new Hero were to be born… he hoped it would be Deon Hart.
And with that hope, he began to pour all the power he had gathered for self-destruction into him—intent on transferring it.
As the Hero himself knew, the Hero's power cannot be transferred willingly.
And yet, this man—who had no hope once the Hero died—had only this one path left to survive.
The Hero, knowingly stepping past the boundary the world had set, reached out to the world that was surely observing this moment.
World, are you watching?
Of course it was. The "Hero" was someone chosen and empowered by the world itself.
So it must be watching. And it must know.
This is my decision and mine alone.
That's why—
He doesn't know anything.
The consequences of defying the world would be his burden alone.
Let all your fury fall upon me.
The world, weighing the crime, made its judgment.
In that instant, the Hero bit down on his tongue in agony. A scream, too raw to escape, thrashed in the back of his throat.
A searing pain stabbed through muscles and bones like sharp knives, and the pressure of forcing power out made his skull feel like it was splitting.
Perhaps it was the world's warning—or its punishment. But he ignored it. Swallowing the blood rising up inside him, he bore the soul-crushing torment and pushed harder.
Please… even just a single fragment…
He couldn't let someone like this die to the Demon King. He couldn't. So please—grant him the power to resist.
But his desperate wish… went unanswered.
All the power meant for Deon passed through him without a trace of light, scattering across the continent.
Like birds flying through a cloud, it drifted past him—each particle caught by wind and sunlight—vanishing into the air.
…So it really is impossible.
From a broader perspective, it wasn't a loss.
Even if he crossed the boundary, the Hero had offered his life in exchange for the transfer of power. And once that price was paid, the world should have honored his intention.
Which meant that power wouldn't return to the world, but instead linger in the land—like the powers of other Heroes who'd chosen to pass theirs on—until it gave rise to a new champion.
But if that were the case, then what would happen to Deon Hart?