Episode 28 (Max’s POV): “My Hero”
“Huh. So this is my grave, is it.”
At the center of the cemetery on the village outskirts stood Conrad’s grave.
A large headstone read “Here Lies Conrad, the Frontier Hero,” with a statue standing beside it.
Once Conrad had finished off the monsters, the villagers had scattered into their roles.
Members of the Magic Corps handled the preservation work needed to mount the cockatrice’s head at the village entrance.
The young men’s job was to watch and help wherever they could.
Meanwhile, the young women were preparing a feast, to properly thank the soldiers dispatched from the Magic Corps and the magic doll shop alike.
The elders, for their part, were discussing how to run the village going forward — with Bianca serving as an advisor, they were calculating how much money would be needed to purchase magic tools and arrange for regular Magic Corps patrols.
In the midst of all that, Max had been given time alone with Conrad.
Well — to be precise, the magic doll shopkeeper was there too, making it three.
Fiine, apparently, couldn’t stray far from the magic doll.
She stood a little way off, watching over their conversation without intruding.
“Did you make this grave yourself?”
“Yeah. …Should I have gone with something more impressive?”
“It’s more than enough. Besides — you come here every day, don’t you?”
Standing before a headstone polished to a spotless shine, there was no way to hide it.
Besides, there wasn’t much time left. This wasn’t the moment for false pride.
“…Yeah. Morning and night, every day.”
“For thirty years?”
“For however many decades come after this, too.”
Conrad flushed slightly, looking embarrassed, and turned his face away with a quiet I see.
Their parents had always gotten along well; they’d been born the same month, and had spent time together for as long as either of them could remember.
Small and slight, often teased for looking almost girlish, Max had looked up to Conrad since they were children.
Athletic, strong, never losing a fight even against older boys.
When he’d found out his friend could even use magic on top of all that, it had felt like his own personal pride.
—But it was exactly because of that, that Conrad had been turned into a “hero.”
“Hey, Conrad. Don’t you have any regrets?”
There was no point asking. Better not to ask at all. He knew that, and still couldn’t stop himself.
“No. Even if I could turn back time, I’d choose the same path.”
Max wondered about himself. If he could turn back time, he might try to convince Conrad to abandon the village and run away together instead.
“Seeing everyone in the village today only made me more certain. The village I protected — it was worth protecting.”
“…Conrad.”
“If I have any regret, it’s my own weakness. If I’d been a real hero, I wouldn’t have died. I could have protected everyone even better.”
Letting out a quiet breath, Conrad turned and looked toward Fiine.
“You understand, don’t you. Today, I wasn’t fighting with my own strength.”
Of course he understood. He’d been glued to the window the whole time, watching Conrad fight.
The magic Conrad had actually been capable of using in life had only ever been simple fire-attribute spells — his combat had always been built primarily around swordsmanship.
He’d never been able to use flashy magic like today’s. And before every fight, his body had always trembled.
“Even so, to me, you’re the only hero there is.”
Scared, uncertain — and still, he’d chosen to fight for the village anyway.
Choosing to fight while fully aware of his own lack of strength wasn’t something an ordinary person could do.
“You’re the coolest man in the world. My hero.”
“…You’ve always been an embarrassing one, you know that.”
The habit of scratching his head and looking away when he was flustered hadn’t changed one bit.
(I’m glad I got to see you.)
Tomorrow onward, surely, he’d spend every day wishing to see him again, just like this.
He wasn’t nearly composed enough a person to accept everything neatly in a single day, and he’d never once wished to forget.
But even so — he was glad, today, to have been given this one day to say goodbye properly, all over again.
“…Fiine-san.”
He walked over to her, where she’d made herself as unobtrusive as possible, and bowed deeply.
“Thank you, truly.”
“No, it’s… I just did my job, that’s all.”
“Thanks to you, the village was saved. And so was I.”
“…Um, could I ask you just one thing?”
“Ask me anything at all.”
Fiine spoke hesitantly.
“How is it that you — no, that everyone in this village — can come together like this, for the sake of the village?”
The question the genius witch asked sounded almost childlike, and it caught Max faintly by surprise.
“It’s a small village. To survive, there wasn’t any other way.”
They’d relied on Conrad a great deal, yes — but even then, they couldn’t afford to rely on him alone.
He’d just been a young man with a bit of fighting ability; supporting him had been everyone’s job.
And it wasn’t as simple as just fighting monsters, either.
There were the fields, ravaged by monster attacks, that needed tending. Communicating with the outside world was its own struggle. Preparing daily meals took real effort too.
For each person to survive, everyone had no choice but to pool their strength together.
And that hadn’t changed, even now.
“…I see.”
She nodded deeply, then fell silent.
—Maybe, he thought.
Maybe she had lived a life where things were simply forced onto her by others, without anyone ever sharing the weight.