This World Needs a Hero

Chapter 330: Side Story (4)

Chapter 330: Side Story (4)

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Side Story 4 - A Lot Will Be Left Behind

"Hi, honey?"

Karen woke up on a soft bed.

A pair of eyes looking down at her formed a gentle arc.

"Ah... I thought you were a demon."

"What a harsh thing to say to your boyfriend."

"Sorry."

Karen stretched and hugged Gerald.

Gerald patted her back and whispered.

"Did you sleep well? You seemed to be sleeping so soundly, I didn't wake you."

"...Yeah, I didn’t have any nightmares today. Maybe I was just tired."

Gerald chuckled mischievously.

"You must have been. I probably should've let you go further yesterday. It's exhausting returning from the 50th sector of the Demon Realm."

"Hmm, the 50th sector, but I feel like we didn't even leave the capital."

"Karen!"

Karen giggled and reached for the table.

Freshly baked warm cookies and fragrant tea awaited her.

A boyfriend who looked fierce but was kind.

...Ah, it was a perfect morning.

Shadow, from under the bed, barked as if asking for some too.

"By the way, why are you in uniform?"

"Did you forget? There's a ceremony today."

"Oh, right... Can't we go in the afternoon?"

"I want to meet up with the others first and catch up. It'll be too hectic later with the banquet and everything."

Karen's face began to light up with a smile at those words.

"Sounds good... I need to hear how those guys have been."

Holding hands, Gerald and Karen left their grand mansion together.

* * *

At the center of the capital's shopping Sector, a workshop was spewing noise and smoke in all directions from early morning.

But no one complained.

One of the workshop's co-owners had bought up all the surrounding properties at double the market price.

...The entrance was lined with the latest equipment.

For those in the manufacturing business, it was a dreamland of tools, with blacksmiths and alchemists bustling about.

"Ugh! Didn't we agree not to take any new reservations for a while?"

"The workshop owner said to take them, what am I supposed to do?"

"Ugh... The workshop owner is not human!!"

"Are you talking about me?"

"Eek!"

Now that the long war had ended, other workshops were much quieter than before.

But this workshop's products were so special that they rarely had time to rest even during peaceful times.

...It was only around noon that they managed to sit down for a moment.

"Good work, everyone."

"Let's grab something to eat."

As the craftsmen scattered in small groups, one woman was the last to put down her hammer.

Her face was peaceful and serene, with black hair that softly flowed over her shoulders, resembling someone in particular.

The workshop owner, Noubelmag, approached her with long strides.

"I told you to take the day off today. We have the ceremony soon."

"...But you came out too, Noubelmag."

"I'm the workshop owner!"

"If the owner is working, should the staff rest?"

"Ugh..."

When Noubelmag let out a dissatisfied sound, the woman's thinly pressed lips curved into a faint smile.

"...Alright, let's eat. Don't work on an empty stomach."

"I'll just serve this one customer and then I'll go."

Nyhill approached a woman who was hesitantly lingering at the workshop entrance.

"Hello, are you here to make a reservation...?"

But unusually, the woman trailed off, and in the end, she just stared at the 'customer' blankly.

"......"

"......"

At first, Nyhill didn't recognize her.

It was a bare face, without the usual mask.

But she clearly remembered those eyes.

The highly trained stealth and calmness in her movements too.

‘...So that's what her face looks like.’

Nyhill stood in front of Mother Ghost, wrapped in complex emotions.

"What brings you here?"

"Nice to see you, Nyhill. You recognized me after all."

Nyhill's eyes trembled slightly.

"You’re not calling me Number 3 anymore."

"Of course not, there are no more ghosts."

In the past year, the Shadow Division had undergone a massive reorganization.

The inhumane agent training process had been completely abolished, and existing agents could leave the organization with substantial compensation if they wished.

Surprisingly, Mother Ghost first suggested this reform to the Emperor.

She argued that the Shadow Division could still function effectively with a new approach.

Nyhill silently stared at Mother Ghost.

...No, at the unnamed middle-aged woman who was now looking around the workshop with curious eyes.

"When everything was wrapped up... I thought of you."

"You must have already known how I was doing."

"Confirmation in person is always better than just reading about it. You know that."

After finishing her inspection, Mother Ghost’s gaze returned to Nyhill.

"So, how are you?"

"How am I...?"

"You're doing good work."

Mother Ghost pointed to the display case at the entrance.

It showcased the workshop's main products—prosthetic arms, legs, and eyes.

They were devices that replaced lost body parts.

"May I touch them?"

"...Yes."

Mother Ghost carefully touched the prosthetics with an unreadable expression.

Her voice, barely a whisper, resonated quietly.

"I once assigned you to cut off and extract things like these."

Nyhill nodded silently.

"Was it painful?"

"...Yes."

"Of course it was."

Nyhill still couldn’t understand Mother Ghost’s intentions.

But one thing was clear—Mother Ghost was very uncomfortable.

Ignoring the fact that it was unlike her, why had she come all this way if she was going to be so restless?

As Nyhill pondered this small mystery, Mother Ghost spoke again.

"The blood on your hands is not your own."

Ghosts were necessary.

But perhaps there could have been a different way, a better way.

Mother Ghost let out a deep sigh.

"I wanted to tell you that."

Only then did Nyhill look straight into Mother Ghost’s eyes.

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Their gazes met.

The cold eyes that had always watched her from behind the mask… and the desperate eyes that sought atonement and forgiveness.

Light and shadow.

Yes, it was the humanity he had always spoken of.

"Heh, haha, hahaha…."

For the first time, Nyhill laughed in front of Mother Ghost.

It was a laugh that brightened her entire face and spread naturally.

Leaving behind the slightly stunned Mother Ghost, she turned around.

"I'll be going now. My friends are waiting."

At the workshop entrance, Gerald and Karen were waving energetically at her.

Nyhill walked a few steps toward them, then turned back with a faint smile.

"...I'm glad I didn't remain a ghost till the end."

Mother Ghost, who had been staring endlessly at her retreating figure, turned her gaze back to the display.

The wall above it was filled with tokens of gratitude left by people: a portrait of a child who had learned to walk again, letters and drawings written with a prosthetic hand.

People who had regained their lives.

"Somehow…."

Mother Ghost took a deep breath.

"...I'm ashamed."

Why did she suddenly think of the man who used to put money into her mother’s collection box without fail?

She let out a short sigh.

"...I guess I should try living well."

Tap, tap—

Just like when she carried her school bag and walked toward all the world's possibilities.

Mother Ghost's now lighter steps headed towards the imperial palace.

.

.

.

A massive triumphal arch stood tall at the city's entrance.

A grand arch soaring toward the sky.

The images of the crusaders who had boarded the Avalon were vividly carved into the solid stone.

The bombardment at the 46th Sector.

The battle with the demonic beasts at the 47th Sector.

The black rain and stake explosion operation at the 48th Sector.

The battle at the Demon King's Castle in the 50th Sector...

Of course, the soldiers who had bravely advanced to the outskirts of the demon realm were also depicted.

The final battle was immortalized as a magnificent piece of art, taking its place among existing works.

Alongside the heroes who had fought for humanity for centuries.

Clip-clop—

A carriage was passing through the triumphal arch.

Normally, the roads leading from the triumphal arch would be bustling with tourists, but now, for the safe passage of the esteemed guests, the road was completely blocked off.

Clip-clop—

Yet, people were gazing at the carriage with highly excited expressions, without a hint of irritation.

Passersby bowed their heads in respect and gave loud applause.

Some rushed to nearby flower shops, bought bouquets, and scattered petals in front of the carriage.

The woman inside the carriage lightly tapped her husband sitting beside her.

"Look outside. It's your first time seeing the completed triumphal arch."

"...Just a moment."

Meanwhile, cheers erupted from outside.

The crowd, recognizing the emblem on the side of the carriage, let out a roar.

"The Plains and the Bow…."

"Solintail!"

"Evergreen! Evergreen!"

"Then Luke must be with them too!"

"Ohhh, the Immortal Mercenary King!!"

The 4th Legion Commander, who had kept the front line despite his body being mutilated by the Mad Scholar, was a story often recounted by the crusaders.

His feats were even grandly carved into the central part of the triumphal arch.

However, Luke did not even glance at it.

"Look outside, it was your dream."

Feeling frustrated, Evergreen got up and tried to open the window herself.

That’s when Luke shouted as if in a seizure.

"Be careful!"

His gaze was fixed on Evergreen’s round, swollen belly.

His arms were already in a ready position, afraid she might fall.

"Be careful!"

"I just got up for a moment…."

"Please, just be careful!"

The one being worried over looked exasperated.

"Luke, seriously! Why are you making such a fuss!"

Evergreen stubbornly waved her hand out the window.

Luke, unable to do anything, reluctantly showed his face.

The cheers grew even louder.

A fellow passenger, watching this, burst into laughter and then pushed Luke aside to reveal her own face.

"Tada~! I'm here too!"

The crowd cheered even louder.

"The King of the North! The King of the North!"

"Cuculli!"

"Today's market sales are guaranteed!"

"Prepare to greet the big spender!"

For the record, Cuculli had flown from the North to the capital, and upon spotting her friends' carriage, had eagerly joined them.

And so, the three of them crossed the capital amidst an overwhelming welcome.

Only Luke had a dark expression.

What if that loud noise hurt the child and the mother?

His handsome face was turning pale by the second.

"Damn it, I should have just stayed out. The journey from Solintail to here must have been hard enough!"

Evergreen shook her head.

"I also wanted to see the kids after a long time. Instructor and Professor Pierre too. And others as well."

Cuculli chimed in from the side.

"Yeah, Luke, stop making such a fuss."

Luke habitually started to curse but stopped himself.

"..."

Cuculli teased him with a playful question.

"By the way, do you want a son or a daughter?"

Luke answered immediately.

"A son."

"Huh? That's unexpected. Why?"

"A daughter in this harsh world? I wouldn't be able to live in peace. If some wolf-like guy snatched her away…!"

He would kill him.

Seeing the madness in Luke's eyes, Cuculli clicked his tongue.

"The Lord and Lady of Solintail must have thought the exact same thing."

"What?"

"They raised her with all their love, only to have her taken by a bandit-like guy!"

The two started a small scuffle, careful not to disturb Evergreen.

She swallowed the words that had risen to her throat.

'They didn't raise me with love though….'

…Leaving the two idiots who had started wrestling, Evergreen gently caressed her swollen belly.

A slow smile spread across her lips.

In a month, she would be able to show her child this world.

Evergreen turned her green eyes toward the window.

A world filled with infinite possibilities, one that she, her beloved husband, her friends, her respected teachers, and their colleagues had all fought to protect.

‘I’m really… looking forward to it.’

Evergreen carefully placed her hand on her belly.

Her eyes sparkled with love.

It was the purest and most lovely sight in the world.

Cuculli and Luke stopped fighting.

“Phew, by the way, have you decided on a name?”

At Cuculli's question, both shook their heads.

“We were going to name the baby after the professor.”

“But?”

“Come to think of it, the professor never told us his real name.”

“…True.”

“Cuculli, got any good names?”

Luke grimaced and shook his head.

“How could he? Her own name is Cuculli. You think she’d have good name suggestions?”

“…Wanna die?”

A heated debate followed.

Cuculli suggested northern names, and Luke recoiled in horror.

Then, at some point, Cuculli tilted his head.

“Oh right. Where did they say to meet us?”

Evergreen’s lips quivered slightly.

She tried to smile, but the weight of longing made it difficult.

Luke answered in her stead.

"The columbarium."

"..."

"Let's go pay our respects. It's been a while."

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