The Lowest-Ranked Hero Has Returned

Chapter 2 - A Reason to Live (1)

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]

Chapter 2 - A Reason to Live (1)

"You’re suspended for a week."

"......"

"What, got a problem with that?"

The middle-aged man, whose wild appearance reminded one of a lion, asked in a low, gruff voice.

Lucas Cain.

The professor in charge of the third-year warrior department during my days as a hero cadet.

He was a renowned hero once known as the 'Bloodthirsty Hound,' famed for slaying hundreds of demons.

And today.

He was also the man I had knocked out with a punch to the solar plexus as soon as I woke up.

"Disrupting class and assaulting a professor... You should be glad you're only getting suspended."

"...Yes."

I nodded with a dazed expression as I faced Professor Lucas, who was glaring at me with fierce eyes.

"Now go back to your dorm and start writing your reflection. I need to finish the rest of... Ugh."

Professor Lucas tried to rise from his chair, but his face twisted in pain as he clutched his chest.

"Are you okay?"

"Mind your own damn business."

At Professor Lucas’s harsh retort, I turned and left the office.

On my way back to the dormitory.

I walked slowly toward my room, passing through the hallway that was usually bustling with students.

In the midst of the confusion, I suppose I could consider myself fortunate.

Even after all those countless years, the dorm room number where I had lived for four years in the past still lingered in my memory.

[Hero cadet ‘Dale Han.’ Identity confirmed.]

Bzzz, click.

The door opened with a familiar mechanical sound as I brought the wristwatch close to the tightly shut door.

A small bed, a desk, and an old shelf with a few cheap bottles of wine sitting on it.

"It’s the same room I used back then."

Although my memories of my days as a hero cadet had faded after so much time, I still remembered the appearance of the dorm room where I had lived from the age of 18 to 21.

I stepped into the cold, silent room and sat down on the worn bed.

"What the hell happened?"

After I absorbed the 'Primordial Flame' into my body.

I thought I could finally put an end to that unbearably long life and closed my eyes.

"But now I’m back?"

As far as I knew, the Primordial Flame didn’t have the power to turn back time.

After all, the reason I had wandered the continent for hundreds, thousands of years in search of the Primordial Flame was because there were records stating that it could burn away the blessing of the seven gods... the 'stigma.'

"Wait, does that mean..."

I hastily unbuttoned my shirt and looked down at my left chest.

The stigma engraved on my left chest.

The mark granted by one of the seven gods, the ‘God of the Forest,’ remained intact, unchanged.

"Ah."

A chill ran down my spine.

I had wandered the continent for so long, seeking the Primordial Flame with the sole hope of death.

And it had all been for nothing?

‘No, it’s too early to jump to conclusions.’

Strictly speaking, the reason I became a body that couldn’t even take its own life wasn’t because of the stigma granted by the God of the Forest, but because of the ‘blessing of revival’ contained within that stigma.

Every hero possessed a stigma, but only a few heroes had a blessing, which was an even rarer power.

‘Even if the stigma remains, the blessing might have disappeared.’

Testing it was simple enough.

Srrng.

I drew the sword lying in the corner of the room and brought it to my neck.

Scratching or cutting the skin with a sword wouldn’t be enough to confirm whether the blessing had vanished.

Unless it was a fatal wound that could lead to death, the blessing of revival wouldn’t activate.

That left me with only one option.

Swish.

I gripped the sword hilt firmly and slashed my neck without hesitation.

As the cold blade cut into my neck, my head fell to the ground with a thud.

Blood spurted out like a fountain, soaking the bed sheets in red.

And then.

Woooong.

A blue light emanated from the stigma on my left chest, and the darkened vision returned to normal.

My head, which had rolled across the floor, and the blood-soaked bed sheets returned to their original, untouched state as if nothing had happened.

"Heh."

A faint chuckle escaped my lips.

Nothing had changed.

The stigma engraved on my left chest, and the blessing of revival contained within it, were still intact.

The end of that unbearably long life hadn’t been a period but a repeat sign.

‘So, what happened to the Primordial Flame?’

As I wondered if the Primordial Flame had disappeared with the return, the thought crossed my mind.

"Ugh!"

Sssssss!

A sharp pain, like being seared with a hot iron, shot through my left chest.

When I looked down, I saw a faint flame flickering around the stigma on my chest, like a candle flame.

‘What is this now?’

This phenomenon was something I had never experienced in the thousands, tens of thousands of deaths I had endured before.

The reason this had suddenly appeared now, when it had never happened before.

The answer to that question wasn’t hard to figure out.

‘Does this mean the Primordial Flame hasn’t disappeared?’

Although the flame was pitifully small compared to when I first absorbed the Primordial Flame.

At least it seemed the Primordial Flame itself hadn’t vanished with the return.

‘Though it doesn’t change the fact that the blessing of revival hasn’t disappeared.’

I clutched my throbbing head and collapsed onto the bed.

My mind was a tangled mess of thoughts.

"A return... huh."

I placed my hand on the watch on my left wrist and lightly channeled mana into it.

Bzzz.

A beam of light shot out from the watch, and a translucent hologram window appeared.

[Cadet Information]

Name: Dale Han

Origin: Republic

Grade: 3rd Year

Department: Warrior

Cadet Overall Evaluation Ranking: 472nd / 472

"It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this."

A bitter laugh escaped me as I looked at the overall evaluation ranking at the bottom of the cadet information window.

The perpetual last-place cadet.

The worst dunce in the history of the hero academy.

According to Professor Lucas, the undisputed number one cadet for ‘someone who should never become a hero even after graduation.’

"Whoo."

The memory of my time as a cadet left a bitter taste in my mouth.

‘So exactly when did I return to?’

I closed the hologram window and checked the date on the wristwatch; it was early March, just as the semester had begun.

‘Then the class I was in earlier... it must have been Practical Combat Training.’

Practical Combat Training.

It was a mandatory class for all third-year students, regardless of their department, designed to prepare them for 'real' battles against monsters.

‘I first manifested the blessing of revival during the midterm evaluation of this class.’

As I flipped through the dusty album of memories.

"...Huh?"

Like a bolt of lightning.

A memory I had forgotten struck me.

"Wait a minute... If it’s the first semester of the third year, during Practical Combat Training, then...”

Thump thump.

My heartbeat echoed in my head as if it were about to burst.

Before I could finish my thought, my body moved on its own.

Bang!

I kicked open the dormitory door with enough force to break it.

I squeezed out the little mana I had left to reinforce my body.

I ran.

It didn’t matter if my legs tore apart.

It didn’t matter if my lungs burst.

Right now.

Nothing mattered more than...

Thud, slam!

I violently threw open the door to the classroom I had just been kicked out of.

“What the...?"

"Dale?"

The sharp stares of the cadets pierced into me.

Ignoring them, I moved forward.

To the back of the classroom.

To the seat by the window where the spring breeze gently blew in.

"Hmm?"

She was there.

“Ir… is.”

There she was, sitting by the window, but something about her seemed unfamiliar.

It didn’t take long to figure out the cause of that ‘unfamiliarity.’

It was the pair of beautiful blue eyes that seemed like they could draw you in, eyes that she no longer had in my memory.

"Uh... Are you talking to me?"

She looked at me with a bewildered expression, as if she couldn’t fathom why I would suddenly call her name.

It was a natural reaction.

At this time, she and I weren’t lovers, not even close enough to have had a proper conversation. We were complete strangers.

In fact, when I reunited with Iris ten years after graduation, she didn’t even remember that we had spent an entire year in the same classes during our time as cadets.

Well.

Why would she have remembered a fool like me who had held the last rank in every class from the moment we entered until graduation, especially when she had been expected to become a hero representing the Holy Kingdom as the ‘Saint’?

Until now.

"......"

Without a word, I walked toward her seat.

"What are you planning to do to the Saint, you scum!"

A female student with navy blue hair tied in a ponytail shot up from her seat.

Camilla Vedice.

A cadet who had been directly dispatched from the Holy Kingdom to guard the Saint during her time as a cadet, and was also being considered as a cadet for the next 'Sword of the Holy Kingdom.'

"Step aside!"

She shouted fiercely, trying to draw the sword at her waist.

Before she could even unsheathe her sword, I reached out to her.

My fingertips touched the wrist holding the sword hilt.

"Move."

Berald’s Martial Arts.

Heavenly Flip.

“What the...!”

Boom!

Camilla’s body flipped upside down and rolled across the floor.

The classroom filled with screams and shouts.

Ignoring all the noise.

I stood before her.

“...Ah.”

I remember.

I recall.

The warmth that grew cold as I held her in my arms.

The trembling hand that stroked my cheek, whispering that everything was going to be alright.

The smile she forced, just to comfort me as I cried.

“Ah, ugh.”

A sob, like a boiling kettle, escaped from between my lips.

My heart felt like it was burning, as if the searing pain of the raging emotions had pierced through it.

What should I say?

What words should I offer?

I knew.

That she didn’t remember me as I was now.

That all the time we had spent together existed only in my memories.

But.

Even so.

The words I had whispered countless times as I walked alone through the snow-covered wasteland filled my throat.

There were so many things I wanted to say.

But only one thing I needed to say.

"I’m glad..."

That you’re alive.

"I’m really... glad."

In a life where I had only chased after death.

I now had a reason to live.

***

"Your suspension has been extended to a month."

"No."

"What do you mean no, you crazy bastard! You barged into the classroom while on suspension, assaulted a cadet... and the Saint, of all people, and now you say no? Are you out of your mind!"

"Assault? That’s a misunderstanding. I didn’t lay a finger on the Saint."

"What about Cadet Camilla then? Go ahead, tell me you didn’t lay a finger on her either!"

“Camilla herself said it, didn’t she? That she tripped and fell by accident."

"That’s because she couldn’t admit she couldn’t even draw her sword against you!"

"Oh, come on, Professor. How could I possibly prevent Camilla Vedice, a cadet for the 'Sword of the Holy Kingdom,' from drawing her sword?"

"Hah. Do you think you can fool me with that pathetic act?"

Professor Lucas glared at me with sharp eyes, like the hound he was known to be, and continued.

"Who the hell are you... really?"

"You already know."

I shrugged my shoulders and spoke with a calm expression.

"I’m Dale. Ranked 472nd out of 472. Lowest-ranked hero cadet, Dale Han."

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]