Chapter 31 : The Hero
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Raven797
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Finn Deimne understood this all too well.
He knew he would never be the hero who saved everyone. Instead, he was merely an artificial hero.
Feigned courage, orchestrated glory, fabricated achievements, and a paved-over adventure—Deimne was a hero stitched together from disparate parts.
Before he fashioned himself into an adventurer, and before he became Finn Deimne, he was simply a rebellious child who believed he was smarter than the world. He was born in a mountain village where various races mingled. Even in that small world, his kin—the Pallums—faced discrimination and were looked down upon.
They believed in the "Goddess Viana," the embodiment of the "Knights of Viana." Long ago, these Pallum knights founded their order, defeated countless monsters, and saved humanity.
However, the will of that goddess—a hero and saint to their kind—vanished entirely when not a single knight survived their final battle. Her memory lingered in Pallum hearts as a creed, but that faith was discarded the moment the "True Gods" descended to the world. Viana was relegated to a fictional deity. Deprived of this sanctuary, the Pallums fell into an abyss of self-loathing.
His people lost their pride and courage. Their small statures and lack of strength led others to treat them as an inferior race.
In his birth village, the Pallums were the weakest link. His parents endured mockery simply for their race, yet they never fought back. Instead, they allowed themselves to be exploited. He loathed them—parents who laughed as if they had surrendered to everything, treating themselves with contempt.
—Why don't you sharpen your wits?
—Why do you submit just because the opponent is larger?
—Why don't you resist like that "Fictional Goddess"?
He felt more disgust toward his own kind, who did nothing but hang their heads, than toward the other races who looked down on them.
If they could not match others in physical build, he decided that intellect would be his weapon. He slipped into the village chief's library and pored over hundreds, then thousands of books. Acquiring knowledge was more than a pastime; it provided a staggering sense of pleasure to know what others did not.
He used that knowledge to ensure he bowed to no one. He employed trickery to lead villagers into their own traps. Even when they retaliated with blows and kicks, he consoled himself with the fact that he was not subservient like his parents.
When he turned ten, monsters lurking in the mountains attacked the village at midnight.
He shook off his parents' hands and ran, fighting back his terror. When he reached the village square, he found corpses drenched in blood.
Amidst the screams of dying adults, he smuggled away women and children younger than himself. He even saved the rowdy boys who used to bully him and ran to extinguish the spreading fires. He acted exactly like the "Fictional Goddess"—like the heroes of ancient myths.
But that was not "courage." It was merely vanity born of baseless confidence and a recklessness driven by petty pride.
Faced with the rampaging monsters, the thousands of pages of knowledge he had gathered proved useless. His legs froze. In that moment, he realized that what drove him was not bravery, but hollow arrogance.
He trembled before the decisive difference in power. As the monster's claws closed in—his parents shielded his body with their own. The very parents he had despised.
"...Deimne."
"Thank God..."
His parents died. They died simply, leaving him behind after embracing him to protect him until their final breaths. He remembered little of what followed.
After adults from other races rushed in and killed the monsters, he fled into the depths of the mountains in a daze. He wanted to vanish into the darkness of the forest. He did not want anyone to see his ugliness. So, he ran along monster trails.
Suddenly, a star-studded sky stretched out before him.
Cornered at the edge of a moonlit cliff, he wept in regret over his foolishness. He sobbed and screamed, releasing the emotions he had suppressed since birth.
He had not shed a tear when his parents died, nor when the monsters attacked. But now, he could not stop the tears that poured out like a burst dam.
He was filled with regret. It was painful, cruel, bitter, and terrifying. Why was he the only one left alive?
He cried for a long time. He cried in despair, in disappointment, at the sight of his people fleeing before everyone else, and at the sight of himself—someone who did not know the meaning of courage.
The night wind seemed to mock him with its violent gusts. His body shook from the cold, and he closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he saw the image of his father and mother facing a monster much larger than themselves.
In that image, he felt he had found "courage" and "hope" for the Pallums.
On that day, he swore to become a "Hero" to restore the pride of his race.
He abandoned his home and family name, choosing to call himself "Finn," which meant "Light" in the Pallum tongue, alongside his name "Deimne." He wanted to show his people, who lived with bowed heads, the "hope" he had seen that day for the sake of their race's revival.
This was the beginning of his adventure—Finn Deimne.
To become the hope of his race in place of the "Fictional Goddess," he accumulated adventures, gained strength, and gathered fame. He strove to be worthy of the title "The Braver" bestowed upon him by Loki, in word and deed.
He did not need superficial bravery; he needed ironclad achievements. He sought the fame that would allow him to carry the weight of an entire race on his shoulders. Along the way, he allowed mentor figures and brothers-in-arms to die before his eyes, believing that such sacrifices would save the greater number.
An artificial hero, a manufactured fraud, and a patched-together fantasy. He never stopped his stride because he could not afford to. To restore the pride the Pallums once possessed, he kept walking.
Yet, at some point, he realized: is a hero not someone people need, rather than someone who creates themselves?
It was then that he met him—Al Cranel..
He was about the age Finn had been when Loki took him in, but he possessed red eyes that seemed to simmer with all the world's fury.
He possessed a sharpness exceeding Ais and a talent that surpassed hers. The eyes of that boy, who looked as if he had survived the very halls of death, were harder than any human Finn had ever known.
Gareth used to lecture Al, who dove daily into floors that did not suit his strength, warning him against haste. Riveria volunteered to be his teacher, fearing he would die if left unsupervised. Loki felt a sense of dread regarding something stirring in the depths of his eyes.
But Finn was the only one who realized how precise Al's calculations were. He always returned with severe injuries, yet he was never once dealt a fatal wound.
He was different from the Ais of old; he measured his strength with cold detachment, forcing himself through ordeals that nearly killed him but never did, surviving at the final moment.
The first time Al nearly died was during his third week as an adventurer. He fought to secure the escape of his party members—whom he had been forced to accompany by Riveria's order—against an Irregular "Infant Dragon" that appeared suddenly in the upper floors.
When Finn heard from the fleeing party leader, a Level 2 member, that Al remained alone as a rear guard in the corridor, he felt a slight disappointment.
Perhaps he was projecting his old self—who confused arrogance with courage—onto the boy. He headed toward the corridor with Gareth and the others, hiding his disappointment toward Al, whom he assumed was certainly dead.
Both Finn and Gareth expected to find a corpse. But when they reached the floor, they saw Al fighting his enemy without surrender, exhausting his body inch by inch and using various cheap weapons he discarded after every use.
Finn could not believe his eyes. He could not believe the boy fighting before him. He was the perfect ideal Finn had always imagined.
Seeing him burn away his life to protect his comrades made something inside Finn shudder. He could not look away from that battle, which should have been at a much lower level for a first-tier adventurer; he was completely captivated.
There was no fear in his eyes, only an overwhelming will to fight. He had been an adventurer for less than a month, yet his feet did not falter before an opponent that even Level 2 adventurers fled from. He felt the difference in strength with his body, yet he did not retreat.
While Gareth, Bete, and Tiona were all stunned, Finn saw "courage" in Al as he faced an opponent vastly superior to him with intelligence and desperation, shielding his wounded comrades with his back.
—Could I have done that? Could I have shown that "courage" when I was just a child who thought he was smart?
If monsters had not attacked his village, Finn would have ended his life there as a conceited boy. But Al, in total contrast, left his village of his own will and came to Orario.
By refusing to surrender, he achieved a heroic feat by defeating an enemy far stronger than himself.
One year passed, then two, three, four... and before they knew it, Al was at their level—and then he surpassed them.
In the four years since Al joined the family, not a single member had died. Al protected them.
Without his presence, one of them surely would have perished. Even the elites faced dire situations repeatedly, but thanks to him, they were all fine.
Finn aspired to a heroic tale that would become a new light for the Pallums. He wanted to be a "Hero of the Masses," a "Cunning Leader," and an "Artificial Hero." He exploited everything and abandoned everything. It was a filthy, polluted path that contradicted his brilliant fame.
However, it was the shortest path to reaching the status of a "Hero."
Thus, Al looked radiant in his eyes. He envied and was fascinated by him because Al always looked forward without regard for profit or loss.
Al was different from him; he had no desire to become a hero.
When standing beside him, Finn felt how small and fraudulent he truly was.
Even now, Al was the very definition of a hero.
He stood up. Despite wounds that would not heal with Riveria's magic or elixirs, and despite being afflicted by the "Hero Killer" poison that drove heroes to suicide.
●○●○●
Revis saw Al rising like a ghost, the scent of rot and scorched flesh emanating from his body, and her legs shook without her realizing it.
(How can he stand?! No, before that, why has the bleeding stopped─────)
Al was forcibly sealing the gap in his chest by cauterizing it. The red sword Al carried was a cursed blade defiled by time.
The hideousness of that curse rivaled the venom of the BEHEMOTH. That curse granted a suicidal, destructive power that massively increased attack strength in exchange for burning the wielder's body. It could not heal wounds, but its intensity allowed its curse to override others.
He had stopped the bleeding through sheer force. Al had very little time left. His body had crossed its limits long ago.
His heart was pierced, his blood drained, and his soul was being eroded by the curse and the poison. His body was rotting from blood to bone, and he suffered unspeakable agony—pain that would make even the fiercest warriors choose suicide.
He would die eventually, sooner or later. But Al's eyes had not died yet. Despite knowing the magnitude of pain that would follow, he rose.
Al's heart did not break, despite the terrible pain that made death look like salvation, the heat that nearly scorched his brain, and the constriction that squeezed his lungs and spread through his body.
The whites of his eyes turned a murky yellow, and his gaze was unfocused, as if he had gone blind. His skin lost its moisture, feeling like decaying dry wood, and dark, tar-like blood oozed from every pore of his face.
"What are you... You bastard, what are you really....!!"
He was in a wretched state, a walking corpse. Had he not leaned on his sword, he could not have even stood. Yet, Revis felt a terror she had never known. Despite her overwhelming advantage, she retreated involuntarily, her teeth chattering.
Fresh blood flowed from the large hole in his chest that the cauterization had not fully closed. Still, Al did not fall. Revis felt as if she were facing an immortal monster.
She was terrified by that sight—of a hero burning the remainder of his life to fight for the protection of others without regard for himself. The aura Al released now was incomparable to anything before. What lay in his eyes was neither anger nor killing intent.
"─────"
With those eyes that had lost their light, Al "looked" at Finn. And Finn—"The Braver"—understood the meaning of that look. Finn alone understood the final testament of the friend he respected.
"Everyone, protect Al."
If he could have issued that order, it would have been much easier. If they all perished here together, it would have been a lighter burden. But he could not, and he must not. His past did not permit this "escape."
With intelligence that rivaled even the gods, Finn grasped the truth. A corrupted spirit using multi-elemental magic despite being a single-element spirit; a colored magic stone of a new type of monster; and the Great Wind Spirit Aria from the holy corridor epic.
Among the various magics, the corrupted spirit did not use the wind element. That "Monstrosity" called Ais "Aria" and pursued her. Ais had a mother named Aria and used wind magic with power incredible for a human.
Every thread led to one answer.
The top priority to protect, even before the dying Al, was Ais. If Ais were stolen, the corrupted spirit might become "complete."
Above all, if Ais were stolen, the feelings of Al—who protected her with his body—would be in vain.
To the monstrosity, the rest of them were mere extras. Its goal was only Ais and Al. Likely, it did not even see the rest of the Loki Familia as enemies.
This was true. Only Al and Ais had been able to fight the four spirits that possessed power exceeding floor bosses. Now, Al was at death's door with his magic sealed, and Ais could no longer fight as she once did.
And this red-haired creature, Revis. Even though Al had faced the spirits alone and protected the defenseless Ais, she had managed to stab him. Whether because of that green armor or her traits as an evolved monster, her movements certainly exceeded the limits of Level 6.
To fight that creature, Finn would have to use his cursed spear, HELL FINEGAS. But that meant abandoning command. Currently, no one but Riveria and Al could lead the team, and Raul was not ready yet.
So, should he leave the command to Riveria and act as the rear guard himself?
...Impossible. The most he would do is hold out against the creature before being incinerated by the spirits' magic.
In this place and at this moment, only one person could perform the role of rear guard.
"I will not ask for forgiveness."
Thus, this is what Finn had to say. What only Finn could say.
"─────Al, die for us."
"Finn!! What are you saying?!"
"Everyone, withdraw!! We will leave that creature and the rest of the monsters to Al!! I will allow no objections──!!"
No one could respond to the force of will from their leader, who was gritting his teeth so hard they nearly shattered.
"The anger, the contempt—I will accept it all once we return to the surface. So, obey orders now──!!"
".....Do not be distressed. It was just my turn today. That's all there is to it, isn't it....."
Al was the first to comply with the order. Finn, who received what felt like a wordless message from him, represented the pinnacle of spiritual harmony with him. "The Braver" and the "Sword Saint"—the leader and the pillar of the greatest force. No other member could interfere in their decision.
Except for one person.
●○●○●
I was always fighting with Al.
With my magic arrows and Al's skill with the sword, we harvested enemies, cooperated, and sometimes competed. This was how we rose together. Whoever the strong opponent was, and whatever the hardships, I could overcome them with Al.
But Al does not look at me; he looks forward. Al advances and leaves me behind. If it continues like this, I will surely be left alone. I hate that. I am nothing without Al.
I want to see the same scenes Al sees. I want to eat what he eats. I want to wake up and sleep with him. I want to talk to him more. I want to be by his side. I cannot imagine my life without Al.
If Al vanished, I would not be able to live.
Al was always saving me. When I lost my way, he held my hand.
When the paths narrowed for me, he pushed me forward.
I tried so hard to catch up to him.
Driven by anxiety, I continued to dive into the Dungeon daily. I became strong—strong enough to fight by Al's side...! So why?!
I don't understand what Finn is saying. Leave Al?
"No, this... I won't allow it."
I became strong so this wouldn't happen. I wanted to be strong because I didn't want to just be protected. I wanted to catch up to him to protect Al this time. I am already beside Al───
"[O Raging Breaths───"
The magic did not complete. My vision collapsed, my body gave way, and my consciousness flickered as it faded.
(Mind Down──!! My body is already...)
Due to the continuous use of magic that exceeded her limits, her body finally "recognized" the burden placed upon it and could no longer do anything. She could not hold her sword, nor even stand. Nevertheless, she crawled forward. She wanted to go to Al. That feeling alone was what drove her.
And even that feeling collapsed.
"You must become strong, or else... you will surely kill Al."
The words of her own self, seen in a mirage one day, echoed in her mind. The worst future she had always denied stood before her eyes now. Al is going to die? Is Al really going to die? Am I going to lose Al? This is absolutely unacceptable.
"Ah, it's a lie... No, no, no, I hate this!! I hate this!!"
I have no strength. My limbs won't move. Even when I try to put pressure on my arms, they won't move at all. I cannot move. I cannot move them. They won't obey me. My tears poured out before this bitter reality. I don't want Al to die. If Al vanishes, what do I do? I don't know. I don't know anything.
Without Al, I don't know how to live. Since that day, at that time, we should have been together, but now he is so far away. I see Al's back at the tips of my faltering fingers.
I crawled like a worm, dragging my disobedient body, and screamed like a small child. I screamed as if screaming would solve everything, as if someone would come to "save me."
"Listen to me!! Ais Wallenstein!!"
Al shouted in a voice that sounded like he was spitting blood. A stern voice I had never heard from him before. But the "Eyes" looking at me were as warm as the sun, exactly like the last look my father gave before he departed toward the monsters. There was no surrender in that look, only resolve.
"....I'm sorry."
"It seems I won't be able to be your hero."
"I cannot be a hero for you."
Those words and that back overlapped with the old image of my father. Stop, don't say any more, don't leave me. If Al is going to die, then I will die too. Don't leave me alone.
My wish did not reach him, and Al's back drifted away little by little. I am helpless. No matter how much I grit my teeth, my body does not obey me. I can only crawl on the Dungeon floor.
I hate this, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!!!! Don't go, don't go, Al.
I must go. I must catch up and stop him. Al will die. Al will be killed. No, no!! Why? How? I am still capable of fighting. I am still fighting. So take me with you. Please.
If Al is going to die, it's better if I die.
Don't take Al, don't steal Al from me.
No matter how much I wished and no matter how much I screamed, my body did not move an inch. I could only watch that back as it moved further away.
The scream that did not come out as a sound reached no one. Al did not turn around.
In the end, Al stopped one last time and looked at me over his shoulder, a smile on his face as if he felt no pain at all.
That was the bright smile he had directed at me for the first time—the smile I had hoped he would give me one day. That smile was exactly like the one my father once gave──
"─────I hope you meet your own hero one day."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note: Loki Familia members, ranked by proximity to Al (excluding the "despair team"):
Finn
Riveria
Tiona
Alicia
Gareth
Bete (plays the role of the big brother from a distance)
Ais (suffers from innate poor communication skills)
Lefiya (originally doesn't interact with him much)
Tione (completely obsessed with Finn)
°
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He knew he would never be the hero who saved everyone. Instead, he was merely an artificial hero.
Feigned courage, orchestrated glory, fabricated achievements, and a paved-over adventure—Deimne was a hero stitched together from disparate parts.
Before he fashioned himself into an adventurer, and before he became Finn Deimne, he was simply a rebellious child who believed he was smarter than the world. He was born in a mountain village where various races mingled. Even in that small world, his kin—the Pallums—faced discrimination and were looked down upon.
They believed in the "Goddess Viana," the embodiment of the "Knights of Viana." Long ago, these Pallum knights founded their order, defeated countless monsters, and saved humanity.
However, the will of that goddess—a hero and saint to their kind—vanished entirely when not a single knight survived their final battle. Her memory lingered in Pallum hearts as a creed, but that faith was discarded the moment the "True Gods" descended to the world. Viana was relegated to a fictional deity. Deprived of this sanctuary, the Pallums fell into an abyss of self-loathing.
His people lost their pride and courage. Their small statures and lack of strength led others to treat them as an inferior race.
In his birth village, the Pallums were the weakest link. His parents endured mockery simply for their race, yet they never fought back. Instead, they allowed themselves to be exploited. He loathed them—parents who laughed as if they had surrendered to everything, treating themselves with contempt.
—Why don't you sharpen your wits?
—Why do you submit just because the opponent is larger?
—Why don't you resist like that "Fictional Goddess"?
He felt more disgust toward his own kind, who did nothing but hang their heads, than toward the other races who looked down on them.
If they could not match others in physical build, he decided that intellect would be his weapon. He slipped into the village chief's library and pored over hundreds, then thousands of books. Acquiring knowledge was more than a pastime; it provided a staggering sense of pleasure to know what others did not.
He used that knowledge to ensure he bowed to no one. He employed trickery to lead villagers into their own traps. Even when they retaliated with blows and kicks, he consoled himself with the fact that he was not subservient like his parents.
When he turned ten, monsters lurking in the mountains attacked the village at midnight.
He shook off his parents' hands and ran, fighting back his terror. When he reached the village square, he found corpses drenched in blood.
Amidst the screams of dying adults, he smuggled away women and children younger than himself. He even saved the rowdy boys who used to bully him and ran to extinguish the spreading fires. He acted exactly like the "Fictional Goddess"—like the heroes of ancient myths.
But that was not "courage." It was merely vanity born of baseless confidence and a recklessness driven by petty pride.
Faced with the rampaging monsters, the thousands of pages of knowledge he had gathered proved useless. His legs froze. In that moment, he realized that what drove him was not bravery, but hollow arrogance.
He trembled before the decisive difference in power. As the monster's claws closed in—his parents shielded his body with their own. The very parents he had despised.
"...Deimne."
"Thank God..."
His parents died. They died simply, leaving him behind after embracing him to protect him until their final breaths. He remembered little of what followed.
After adults from other races rushed in and killed the monsters, he fled into the depths of the mountains in a daze. He wanted to vanish into the darkness of the forest. He did not want anyone to see his ugliness. So, he ran along monster trails.
Suddenly, a star-studded sky stretched out before him.
Cornered at the edge of a moonlit cliff, he wept in regret over his foolishness. He sobbed and screamed, releasing the emotions he had suppressed since birth.
He had not shed a tear when his parents died, nor when the monsters attacked. But now, he could not stop the tears that poured out like a burst dam.
He was filled with regret. It was painful, cruel, bitter, and terrifying. Why was he the only one left alive?
He cried for a long time. He cried in despair, in disappointment, at the sight of his people fleeing before everyone else, and at the sight of himself—someone who did not know the meaning of courage.
The night wind seemed to mock him with its violent gusts. His body shook from the cold, and he closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he saw the image of his father and mother facing a monster much larger than themselves.
In that image, he felt he had found "courage" and "hope" for the Pallums.
On that day, he swore to become a "Hero" to restore the pride of his race.
He abandoned his home and family name, choosing to call himself "Finn," which meant "Light" in the Pallum tongue, alongside his name "Deimne." He wanted to show his people, who lived with bowed heads, the "hope" he had seen that day for the sake of their race's revival.
This was the beginning of his adventure—Finn Deimne.
To become the hope of his race in place of the "Fictional Goddess," he accumulated adventures, gained strength, and gathered fame. He strove to be worthy of the title "The Braver" bestowed upon him by Loki, in word and deed.
He did not need superficial bravery; he needed ironclad achievements. He sought the fame that would allow him to carry the weight of an entire race on his shoulders. Along the way, he allowed mentor figures and brothers-in-arms to die before his eyes, believing that such sacrifices would save the greater number.
An artificial hero, a manufactured fraud, and a patched-together fantasy. He never stopped his stride because he could not afford to. To restore the pride the Pallums once possessed, he kept walking.
Yet, at some point, he realized: is a hero not someone people need, rather than someone who creates themselves?
It was then that he met him—Al Cranel..
He was about the age Finn had been when Loki took him in, but he possessed red eyes that seemed to simmer with all the world's fury.
He possessed a sharpness exceeding Ais and a talent that surpassed hers. The eyes of that boy, who looked as if he had survived the very halls of death, were harder than any human Finn had ever known.
Gareth used to lecture Al, who dove daily into floors that did not suit his strength, warning him against haste. Riveria volunteered to be his teacher, fearing he would die if left unsupervised. Loki felt a sense of dread regarding something stirring in the depths of his eyes.
But Finn was the only one who realized how precise Al's calculations were. He always returned with severe injuries, yet he was never once dealt a fatal wound.
He was different from the Ais of old; he measured his strength with cold detachment, forcing himself through ordeals that nearly killed him but never did, surviving at the final moment.
The first time Al nearly died was during his third week as an adventurer. He fought to secure the escape of his party members—whom he had been forced to accompany by Riveria's order—against an Irregular "Infant Dragon" that appeared suddenly in the upper floors.
When Finn heard from the fleeing party leader, a Level 2 member, that Al remained alone as a rear guard in the corridor, he felt a slight disappointment.
Perhaps he was projecting his old self—who confused arrogance with courage—onto the boy. He headed toward the corridor with Gareth and the others, hiding his disappointment toward Al, whom he assumed was certainly dead.
Both Finn and Gareth expected to find a corpse. But when they reached the floor, they saw Al fighting his enemy without surrender, exhausting his body inch by inch and using various cheap weapons he discarded after every use.
Finn could not believe his eyes. He could not believe the boy fighting before him. He was the perfect ideal Finn had always imagined.
Seeing him burn away his life to protect his comrades made something inside Finn shudder. He could not look away from that battle, which should have been at a much lower level for a first-tier adventurer; he was completely captivated.
There was no fear in his eyes, only an overwhelming will to fight. He had been an adventurer for less than a month, yet his feet did not falter before an opponent that even Level 2 adventurers fled from. He felt the difference in strength with his body, yet he did not retreat.
While Gareth, Bete, and Tiona were all stunned, Finn saw "courage" in Al as he faced an opponent vastly superior to him with intelligence and desperation, shielding his wounded comrades with his back.
—Could I have done that? Could I have shown that "courage" when I was just a child who thought he was smart?
If monsters had not attacked his village, Finn would have ended his life there as a conceited boy. But Al, in total contrast, left his village of his own will and came to Orario.
By refusing to surrender, he achieved a heroic feat by defeating an enemy far stronger than himself.
One year passed, then two, three, four... and before they knew it, Al was at their level—and then he surpassed them.
In the four years since Al joined the family, not a single member had died. Al protected them.
Without his presence, one of them surely would have perished. Even the elites faced dire situations repeatedly, but thanks to him, they were all fine.
Finn aspired to a heroic tale that would become a new light for the Pallums. He wanted to be a "Hero of the Masses," a "Cunning Leader," and an "Artificial Hero." He exploited everything and abandoned everything. It was a filthy, polluted path that contradicted his brilliant fame.
However, it was the shortest path to reaching the status of a "Hero."
Thus, Al looked radiant in his eyes. He envied and was fascinated by him because Al always looked forward without regard for profit or loss.
Al was different from him; he had no desire to become a hero.
When standing beside him, Finn felt how small and fraudulent he truly was.
Even now, Al was the very definition of a hero.
He stood up. Despite wounds that would not heal with Riveria's magic or elixirs, and despite being afflicted by the "Hero Killer" poison that drove heroes to suicide.
●○●○●
Revis saw Al rising like a ghost, the scent of rot and scorched flesh emanating from his body, and her legs shook without her realizing it.
(How can he stand?! No, before that, why has the bleeding stopped─────)
Al was forcibly sealing the gap in his chest by cauterizing it. The red sword Al carried was a cursed blade defiled by time.
The hideousness of that curse rivaled the venom of the BEHEMOTH. That curse granted a suicidal, destructive power that massively increased attack strength in exchange for burning the wielder's body. It could not heal wounds, but its intensity allowed its curse to override others.
He had stopped the bleeding through sheer force. Al had very little time left. His body had crossed its limits long ago.
His heart was pierced, his blood drained, and his soul was being eroded by the curse and the poison. His body was rotting from blood to bone, and he suffered unspeakable agony—pain that would make even the fiercest warriors choose suicide.
He would die eventually, sooner or later. But Al's eyes had not died yet. Despite knowing the magnitude of pain that would follow, he rose.
Al's heart did not break, despite the terrible pain that made death look like salvation, the heat that nearly scorched his brain, and the constriction that squeezed his lungs and spread through his body.
The whites of his eyes turned a murky yellow, and his gaze was unfocused, as if he had gone blind. His skin lost its moisture, feeling like decaying dry wood, and dark, tar-like blood oozed from every pore of his face.
"What are you... You bastard, what are you really....!!"
He was in a wretched state, a walking corpse. Had he not leaned on his sword, he could not have even stood. Yet, Revis felt a terror she had never known. Despite her overwhelming advantage, she retreated involuntarily, her teeth chattering.
Fresh blood flowed from the large hole in his chest that the cauterization had not fully closed. Still, Al did not fall. Revis felt as if she were facing an immortal monster.
She was terrified by that sight—of a hero burning the remainder of his life to fight for the protection of others without regard for himself. The aura Al released now was incomparable to anything before. What lay in his eyes was neither anger nor killing intent.
"─────"
With those eyes that had lost their light, Al "looked" at Finn. And Finn—"The Braver"—understood the meaning of that look. Finn alone understood the final testament of the friend he respected.
"Everyone, protect Al."
If he could have issued that order, it would have been much easier. If they all perished here together, it would have been a lighter burden. But he could not, and he must not. His past did not permit this "escape."
With intelligence that rivaled even the gods, Finn grasped the truth. A corrupted spirit using multi-elemental magic despite being a single-element spirit; a colored magic stone of a new type of monster; and the Great Wind Spirit Aria from the holy corridor epic.
Among the various magics, the corrupted spirit did not use the wind element. That "Monstrosity" called Ais "Aria" and pursued her. Ais had a mother named Aria and used wind magic with power incredible for a human.
Every thread led to one answer.
The top priority to protect, even before the dying Al, was Ais. If Ais were stolen, the corrupted spirit might become "complete."
Above all, if Ais were stolen, the feelings of Al—who protected her with his body—would be in vain.
To the monstrosity, the rest of them were mere extras. Its goal was only Ais and Al. Likely, it did not even see the rest of the Loki Familia as enemies.
This was true. Only Al and Ais had been able to fight the four spirits that possessed power exceeding floor bosses. Now, Al was at death's door with his magic sealed, and Ais could no longer fight as she once did.
And this red-haired creature, Revis. Even though Al had faced the spirits alone and protected the defenseless Ais, she had managed to stab him. Whether because of that green armor or her traits as an evolved monster, her movements certainly exceeded the limits of Level 6.
To fight that creature, Finn would have to use his cursed spear, HELL FINEGAS. But that meant abandoning command. Currently, no one but Riveria and Al could lead the team, and Raul was not ready yet.
So, should he leave the command to Riveria and act as the rear guard himself?
...Impossible. The most he would do is hold out against the creature before being incinerated by the spirits' magic.
In this place and at this moment, only one person could perform the role of rear guard.
"I will not ask for forgiveness."
Thus, this is what Finn had to say. What only Finn could say.
"─────Al, die for us."
"Finn!! What are you saying?!"
"Everyone, withdraw!! We will leave that creature and the rest of the monsters to Al!! I will allow no objections──!!"
No one could respond to the force of will from their leader, who was gritting his teeth so hard they nearly shattered.
"The anger, the contempt—I will accept it all once we return to the surface. So, obey orders now──!!"
".....Do not be distressed. It was just my turn today. That's all there is to it, isn't it....."
Al was the first to comply with the order. Finn, who received what felt like a wordless message from him, represented the pinnacle of spiritual harmony with him. "The Braver" and the "Sword Saint"—the leader and the pillar of the greatest force. No other member could interfere in their decision.
Except for one person.
●○●○●
I was always fighting with Al.
With my magic arrows and Al's skill with the sword, we harvested enemies, cooperated, and sometimes competed. This was how we rose together. Whoever the strong opponent was, and whatever the hardships, I could overcome them with Al.
But Al does not look at me; he looks forward. Al advances and leaves me behind. If it continues like this, I will surely be left alone. I hate that. I am nothing without Al.
I want to see the same scenes Al sees. I want to eat what he eats. I want to wake up and sleep with him. I want to talk to him more. I want to be by his side. I cannot imagine my life without Al.
If Al vanished, I would not be able to live.
Al was always saving me. When I lost my way, he held my hand.
When the paths narrowed for me, he pushed me forward.
I tried so hard to catch up to him.
Driven by anxiety, I continued to dive into the Dungeon daily. I became strong—strong enough to fight by Al's side...! So why?!
I don't understand what Finn is saying. Leave Al?
"No, this... I won't allow it."
I became strong so this wouldn't happen. I wanted to be strong because I didn't want to just be protected. I wanted to catch up to him to protect Al this time. I am already beside Al───
"[O Raging Breaths───"
The magic did not complete. My vision collapsed, my body gave way, and my consciousness flickered as it faded.
(Mind Down──!! My body is already...)
Due to the continuous use of magic that exceeded her limits, her body finally "recognized" the burden placed upon it and could no longer do anything. She could not hold her sword, nor even stand. Nevertheless, she crawled forward. She wanted to go to Al. That feeling alone was what drove her.
And even that feeling collapsed.
"You must become strong, or else... you will surely kill Al."
The words of her own self, seen in a mirage one day, echoed in her mind. The worst future she had always denied stood before her eyes now. Al is going to die? Is Al really going to die? Am I going to lose Al? This is absolutely unacceptable.
"Ah, it's a lie... No, no, no, I hate this!! I hate this!!"
I have no strength. My limbs won't move. Even when I try to put pressure on my arms, they won't move at all. I cannot move. I cannot move them. They won't obey me. My tears poured out before this bitter reality. I don't want Al to die. If Al vanishes, what do I do? I don't know. I don't know anything.
Without Al, I don't know how to live. Since that day, at that time, we should have been together, but now he is so far away. I see Al's back at the tips of my faltering fingers.
I crawled like a worm, dragging my disobedient body, and screamed like a small child. I screamed as if screaming would solve everything, as if someone would come to "save me."
"Listen to me!! Ais Wallenstein!!"
Al shouted in a voice that sounded like he was spitting blood. A stern voice I had never heard from him before. But the "Eyes" looking at me were as warm as the sun, exactly like the last look my father gave before he departed toward the monsters. There was no surrender in that look, only resolve.
"....I'm sorry."
"It seems I won't be able to be your hero."
"I cannot be a hero for you."
Those words and that back overlapped with the old image of my father. Stop, don't say any more, don't leave me. If Al is going to die, then I will die too. Don't leave me alone.
My wish did not reach him, and Al's back drifted away little by little. I am helpless. No matter how much I grit my teeth, my body does not obey me. I can only crawl on the Dungeon floor.
I hate this, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!!!! Don't go, don't go, Al.
I must go. I must catch up and stop him. Al will die. Al will be killed. No, no!! Why? How? I am still capable of fighting. I am still fighting. So take me with you. Please.
If Al is going to die, it's better if I die.
Don't take Al, don't steal Al from me.
No matter how much I wished and no matter how much I screamed, my body did not move an inch. I could only watch that back as it moved further away.
The scream that did not come out as a sound reached no one. Al did not turn around.
In the end, Al stopped one last time and looked at me over his shoulder, a smile on his face as if he felt no pain at all.
That was the bright smile he had directed at me for the first time—the smile I had hoped he would give me one day. That smile was exactly like the one my father once gave──
"─────I hope you meet your own hero one day."
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Note: Loki Familia members, ranked by proximity to Al (excluding the "despair team"):
Finn
Riveria
Tiona
Alicia
Gareth
Bete (plays the role of the big brother from a distance)
Ais (suffers from innate poor communication skills)
Lefiya (originally doesn't interact with him much)
Tione (completely obsessed with Finn)
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