8 - This Time I Won't [Return] Battle Against Isekai Tropes To Save Aeryis-San - Part 1

I walked through the hallowed halls of a fantasy castle,
hidden in a forest that didn’t even know what the color green was.

Beside me:
A taller, red-haired girl—built like a supermodel—stealing glances at me whenever she could.

Sounds awesome, right?

Wrong.

If my math is right, this is about the billionth time this has happened.
The charm wore off around… attempt fifty.

[SYSTEM MESSAGE: Correction, Hero. This is only the—]
[o-----------------]
[-----------------o]

There we go.
Knew there had to be a mute slider somewhere.

Stupid corporate suits in another stupid fantasy world.
Stupid Isekai status window.

As we rounded yet another perfectly tidy hall—sculpted from only the finest ivory and marble—I locked eyes with an aging butler.

He instantly pressed one hand over his heart and bowed low.

“Hero, I am honored.”

“Shuu’s fine.”

“Shuu-sa—”

I felt my face twitch.

“Let me guess. Your name is Sebastian, right?”

The old man blinked.
Then paused.
Then offered a final bow and shuffled off, dignified as ever.

I turned my head toward Aeryis Fountainsong—formally Red-chan—flicking a thumb at the retreating butler.

“…Sebastian, right?”

She frowned.
Then sighed.
Pressed the tips of her index fingers together in some vaguely stereotypical stress relief ritual that seemed more cute than effective.

“Sebas, actually. Just… Sebas.”

“Right. Just Sebas.”

Obviously. I really dropped the ball on that one.

Aeryis’s red eyes fell on me as we approached two grand doors I could only assume were the throne room.
I could feel her burning a hole through my poor, worn-out hoodie.

Then she spoke.

“Say, Shuu… Why is it you seem so annoyed all the time?”

A difficult heroine, posing a difficult question.

I stopped walking—trying to find the words.
It had been a while since I’d actually lent my ears to one of these situations.

But Aeryis didn’t wait.

“Is it… something I’ve done? Have I offended you?”

She sounded genuinely dejected.
I found myself caught between the reality of her being a manifestation of some genre overlord…
and just how human she seemed in that moment.

I sighed.

“It’s not like that. It’s just… I get a lot of requests like these.

And I’m not the sort of person you think I am.”

She shook her head. Predictably. But earnestly.

“No, that can’t be true. Every dream, relic, and ritual leads to you. I am certain!”

They always are.

…Oh well. Let’s try a new approach.

“Aeryis-san,” I began, turning to face her directly—

looking up into those impossible-colored eyes.

“Do I look like the kind of person who can help you?”

Arms at my sides.
Half-annoyed look plastered across my face.
Coffee still staining my shirt from lunch.
Hair in need of conditioner—and a comb.
The dark circles of a determined (and sleep-deprived) author carved under my eyes.

I was trying to tell her—show her:

I am ordinary.
Mundane, even.

She didn’t even hesitate.

“Absolutely! I just know it!”

...

Objective: Failed.

The doors swung open.

And to my horror—not just the king and queen of a fantasy kingdom—
but an entire reception.

Trumpets. Horns. Heralds.
The return of the princess—and the Hero of legend—at her side.

A dozen knights lined the approach to the throne,
their swords and axes pointed down in silent welcome.

Each one of them? Over a foot taller than me.
Each one? Radiating actual hero energy.

I understand now.

They are in desperate need.

Not of a hero.
But of prescription eyewear.

The king took in my ordinary, modern, slightly-worn form.
Then, with a solemn nod, opened his mouth to speak—his voice booming across the chamber:

“It’s just as the legends foretold! We welcome you, Hero! For it is you we—”

“Shuu—is—fine. Just Shuu. No title. No honorific. Thank you.”

Aeryis looked as if she might die from the pain of words alone.

The king cleared his throat.
His wife gazed at me with something that looked suspiciously like admiration.

Why is she impressed?!
I’m not brave! I’m annoyed!

“Very well! Master Shuu.”

...There is no way he’s slipping Master into this, right?

Right?

“We have long awaited the day of the Hero who would take our daughter’s hand in fated marri—”

I raised my hand.

“Gonna have to stop you there.”

I took a breath. Just one. For composure.

“I’m not marrying anyone. I can’t swing a sword.

I can barely raid my refrigerator—let alone a dungeon.

I have no magic. No skills. And as you can see from my body, I’ve got the stamina of a wet napkin.

Any more questions?”

The king and queen exchanged a glance with Aeryis.
Then with each other.
Then back to me.

“It is for that reason that we, the Royal Family of Fountainsong, welcome you into our home as our new Son in holy Matr—”

Yeah. He definitely didn’t hear me.

“No.”

I sighed and turned back to Aeryis, a look of resignation on my face.

“I knew this was a mistake. Sorry, Aeryis-san. I tried.”

[RETUR—]

“Wait, Father!”

I paused.
...This is new.

“I promised Shuu-sa... Shuu... that we wouldn’t force anything on him that he wasn’t prepared to accept.

He is here only to hear our plight—no more than that.”

Why do you have to make me feel bad about it?

Just play your role with the rest of them, Aeryis-san.
It’s a Monday. A school day.
Have you no mercy?

I stuffed my hands into my pockets—like the annoying schoolboy I was—and spoke.

“Tell me what it is. This problem of yours. I’ll help if I can.

If not—I’m leaving.

Sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

The King of Fountainsong looked puzzled.
Then angry.
Then… overjoyed?

Why can I interpret his facial expressions so well?
Stop that, King-san!

“Very well! Then I shall tell you of our dying world. The truth is—”

C R A S H

The sound of glass shattering destroyed the scene’s grand reveal.

A dragon—the size of a small townhouse—exploded through the stained-glass skylight.
Its wings black as the circles under my eyes.

A knight in black armor rode atop its back.
A helm shaped like a wraith. Armor dark as coal.

With terrifying ease, he swooped by me—wind whipping through the room—and when I looked back...

Aeryis was gone.

Tucked under his arm like a bridal carry gone horribly wrong.

In his other hand?

A sword nearly seven feet long, and about as thick as a dining table.

There’s no way he can actually lift that, right?
How is that practical??

“Stop it, fiend! Release my daughter!”

The queen stood and spoke for the first time—her long, regal gown barely containing her...

Abundance.

I am at a complete loss as to what’s happening.

The black knight threw back his head in a laugh—
his voice as low as a canyon, echoing through his metallic helm.

“If you want her back… show me what your Hero is made of!”

And just like that, before any knight or sentry could move—
he was gone.

Soaring back through the same window he shattered.

...

“Huh?”

Did that just happen?

The king, in a room full of trained knights and seasoned guards, made the only logical move:

“Please, Hero! Save my daughter! I’ll reward you with anything!”

“HUH?!”

I should have returned when I had the chance.
This is why you don’t name stray puppies.
I have to help now!
Why did I have to give her a name?