Episode 25 (Conrad’s POV): “Fighting Like This”
“Conrad-san. The cockatrice’s neck.”
Fiine said it again.
As always, she kept felling the monsters bearing down on them without so much as glancing at them.
The image most people had of mages was of casters who avoided close combat entirely — but she wrapped her fists and feet in magic and struck the monsters down with raw physical force instead.
“More small fry keep showing up than expected, but once we take down the cockatrice, they should settle down. Let’s deal with them all together afterward.”
The flame dragon should have already burned away most of the low-ranking monsters, and yet more kept emerging from the forest, one after another.
Just as she said, taking out the cockatrice first was probably the efficient move.
(But—)
The cockatrice’s body was massive, its neck thick. On top of that, it kept breathing blue flame from its enormous mouth, threatening anyone who came close.
Taking its head off looked difficult enough — just getting near it looked nearly impossible.
“It’s fine. You can do it.”
The wind blew, and her normally hidden right eye came briefly into view.
(Her eyes — they’re different colors, left and right…)
A golden right eye, a pink left eye.
He couldn’t recall the exact colors, but he’d once heard that the hero who slew the Demon Lord had also had mismatched eyes — a gold-and-silver “fairy gaze,” they called it.
“Conrad-san. The people of this village are waiting for you to shine.”
If all they’d wanted was for the monsters to be exterminated, they wouldn’t have gone out of their way to specifically request “please bring Conrad back to life.”
But from what he’d heard, it had been at the village head’s request that the lord himself had personally come to ask this of Fiine.
(It’s because, after I died, everyone made me into a hero.)
What sustains a person’s heart isn’t results alone. That’s exactly why the existence of a hero itself was needed here.
The revived “Frontier Hero,” standing once more against monsters for the sake of his hometown.
That fact alone would surely go on supporting the villagers for years, decades, to come.
“You’re the only one — no. There’s no one else who can do this but you.”
He tightened his grip on his sword. Even knowing he wasn’t the same man he’d once been, facing the cockatrice still terrified him. But he couldn’t afford to let that fear show.
“…I’ll do it.”
For the village. For its people. And, more than anything, for himself.
He broke into a run toward the cockatrice. Having Fiine running alongside him gave him courage.
Up close, the cockatrice was even more terrifying than he’d imagined. Its massive mouth bristled with sharp fangs, the kind that looked like they could crush straight through bone.
The instant their eyes met, it breathed fire at him, as if to intimidate.
But in the next moment, the blue flame vanished entirely.
“Don’t worry. I’ll handle the flames.”
“Handle it how…?”
“Just combining wind-attribute and water-attribute magic to cancel out the fire.”
She said it so casually, but combining multiple magic attributes at once — while simultaneously fighting off other monsters — should have been unthinkable.
Genius must have been a word invented specifically to describe someone like her.
(I’ll just fulfill my own role.)
Conrad wasn’t a hero. He was just a young man who happened to know a little magic and had a bit of strength in his arms. The people of the village had to know that.
And yet, even after his death, they’d still wanted him — as a hero.
(Then I’ll just live up to what they expect of me.)
He raised his sword high and, first, cut through one of the cockatrice’s legs.
What should have been a hardened limb sliced through with surprising ease. As the cockatrice screamed, he leapt onto its body, aiming for the neck.
The cockatrice’s upper body was covered in feather-like fur and tough hide — under normal circumstances, cutting through it would have been nearly impossible.
More than that, fire-attribute magic simply didn’t work on a cockatrice. Which meant the old Conrad, who’d only ever had fire magic to rely on, could never have landed an attack against it at all.
(But the me now — I can do this.)
Just before he brought the blade down, it flashed white. Fighting the urge to shut his eyes, he swung his arm down with everything he had.
With a resounding sound, the cockatrice’s head hit the ground. From the severed stump, purple blood burst out in a violent spray.
Drenched in blood, Conrad raised his sword high in triumph. Sunlight caught the blade and made it gleam.
He wondered if the villagers, hidden away in their homes, could see him now.
The face that rose in his mind was his best friend’s.
That Conrad had chosen to live as a hero was both because of Max, and thanks to Max in equal measure.
(Hey, Max. Are you watching me right now?)
He dropped back down to the ground, drawing in deep breaths to steady himself.
With the cockatrice dead, no more monsters emerged from the forest, but a fair number still remained scattered nearby.
“Conrad-san, just a little more.”
“Same as before?”
“No — let’s change things up a bit this time.”
He had no idea what she was thinking. But he was certain of one thing: he could trust her.
Conrad lifted his sword toward the sky.
The magic circle that formed above slowly expanded, spreading until it covered the entire sky.
Then a rain of light poured down over the earth.
Monsters caught in that rain of light let out screams as they vanished, one after another. Each drop of rain, it seemed, must have carried light-attribute magic within it.
(It’s like something out of myth.)
The rain fell everywhere across the ground, carefully avoiding only the cockatrice’s corpse.
She’d probably raised a barrier around the body to protect it.
Overwhelming talent. Skill that went beyond anything effort alone could reach — the technique of a god.
She possessed the very thing Conrad had once ached for, painfully, with everything in him.
(…So this is the kind of fighting I always wanted to do.)
By the time the rain stopped, the ground below had been left completely clean.