The Hero Who Finally Began to Live

Seeing two men turn to ash in front of them—gone in a heartbeat—stopped the whole coliseum cold. People stared from their seats like they’d seen a miracle or a nightmare. The floating cameras kept humming above, sending every second of this horror out to the rest of the world. Taverns, villages, markets—everyone watched the same scene at once.

The King sat frozen, hands on the railing. Nobody knew what to do. It looked like the noble’s defense was absolute: some dark, cruel magic that burned anyone who touched that ring where he held Princess Ariel captive. The whole place smelled faintly of smoke and fear.

“Boy,” the noble called, voice oily and proud, like he was offering a deal, “let me marry the princess. Join me—be my right hand. You’ll have gold, land, everything. Walk with me and you’ll never need for anything.”

It was an offer. To Ren it tasted like acid.

Anger lit inside him so hot it was almost physical. He couldn’t stand seeing Ariel treated like a prize. A flash of thought cut through the fury—those two guards became ash. But what if his body could tank that damage? He didn’t bleed like normal people. What if he could take it?

Ren moved.

“Ren, don’t do anything! You’ll burn—just like those men!” Rachel shouted from the stands. Her voice cracked and echoed through the arena and through the broadcasts. The whole world heard her.

He didn’t slow. He remembered the night he died in his old world—how he’d gone to save a random girl and paid with his life. That memory sat under his skin like a promise: he wouldn’t stand by while people were used and burned for someone else’s throne.

Step by step he walked through the packed sand. The crowd’s roar dulled to a buzz. The noble’s smug face broke into a scowl. “What the hell, boy? Are you slow? Didn’t you see what happens when you touch my defense?”

Ren kept walking. No turning back now. He reached the edge of the barrier and touched it.

White-hot pain hit him like being shoved into a furnace. He cried out—an animal sound, real and raw. For a second the whole arena held its breath, waiting for ash.

But the burn didn’t finish him.

Yes, red and smoke flared around his skin. It stung; tears ran down his face. The flames licked, but they couldn’t spread the way they should. The wound started to close as it burned. You could see the redness, the little smoke curling, then like a tide pulling back—it healed, faster than the burn could take hold.

“Kazuma—do you see that?” Lisa called.

Kazuma’s face went white. “I see it.”

Every camera zoomed in. Tavern keepers halfway across the kingdom dropped mugs. The elder from the Immortals’ village lowered his cup with a small, unreadable smile. Enemies who’d crossed Ren cursed and slammed their hands on tables. The whole world watched Ren get burned and stay standing.

The noble’s panic grew. He stuttered, sank back on one knee, clutching Ariel. “Monster—this man is a monster! Help me!”

Ren closed in fully. The burn marked him—redness, a little fire—but it couldn’t finish the job. He grabbed the noble by the throat and lifted, hands like iron.

Every bone in Ren’s hands told him to break that neck right there. Snap it and be done

Kazuma and the others were already stepping down, weapons half-drawn, ready to stop Ren if he snapped. They’d seen the monster in him in fights before and feared what would happen if it broke loose.

Rachel pushed through and planted herself between Ren and the noble, chest heaving. “Ren—think! The whole world is watching. Do you want them to see you as a monster? Leave him. The King will deal with him.”

Her words hit hard. She knew him. She knew what he could become when anger let go.

Ren came to his senses. His friends’ voices cut through the haze of anger, pulling him back from the edge. That’s why they mattered—because when he lost himself, they brought him back. His grip loosened. The noble slipped from his hand, crashing down to the ground, coughing and scrambling for air.

The King finally snapped into action. “Guards!” he barked, and royal soldiers stormed the arena floor. Within moments, they had the noble pinned, shackled, and dragged away. His protests rang hollow now, like a man who had already lost everything.

Ariel burst into tears, though relief was clear on her face. The King hurried to her side and pulled her into his arms. His voice cracked, heavy with guilt.
“My baby… I’m sorry. I couldn’t do anything. I’m not a good father…”

The crowd stayed frozen in shock for a while longer. They’d seen men turn to ash, seen Ren walk through fire, seen a noble humiliated and dragged away. The sand still smelled faintly of smoke and magic. But slowly, the mood shifted. The King stepped forward, Ariel at his side, and raised his hand.

“Today…” he began, voice echoing, “…what we witnessed is a shameful thing. Nobody could have imagined a noble of our kingdom would fall to such disgrace. To all watching, here and across the world, I apologize.” His words carried weight, not just to those in the coliseum but to everyone watching through the floating orbs above.

He gestured upward. “You all saw these events because of the advancements of our kingdom’s magic. Magic that can capture an image in one place and send it anywhere in the world. I had planned to reveal this at the end of the tournament, but fate forced my hand today. Still—this tournament must have its end. And we must honor its winner.”

His arm stretched toward Ren. “The strongest man in the world… the man whose power you all just witnessed—Ren!”

The coliseum erupted. Cheers thundered through the seats, rolling like waves. Across the kingdom, in taverns and homes, people cheered too. Some enemies cursed Ren’s name, slamming fists into tables, but they couldn’t deny what they’d seen.

Ren stepped forward onto the stage, sand crunching under his boots.

The King smiled. “First, I must thank this young man. He saved my daughter.” Cheers exploded again. “Now, Ren. As victor, you are owed a boon. One wish. If you desire Ariel’s hand in marriage, I will grant it gladly—you have proven none are more worthy.”

Ariel flushed, eyes darting away in embarrassment.

Ren bowed his head respectfully. “Thank you, Your Majesty. But… my only wish is that Princess Ariel is never again made into a prize. She deserves to live her life freely. I don’t want to see evil men win tournaments and demand her hand like she’s some trophy. That’s my wish.”

The coliseum fell silent. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. He could have asked for the princess. He could have asked for riches. And he chose this?

Ariel’s lips parted, her eyes a little sad. But she said nothing. It was Ren’s wish. Rachel, standing off to the side, let out a quiet breath of relief.

The King nodded slowly. “…Very well. I will not place politics above my family ever again.”

Cheers burst forth, louder than ever. Ren was handed the winner’s trophy—a symbol now, not just of strength, but of something more. The whole world saw it. The whole world saw him.

Later, after meeting nobles and strangers who suddenly wanted to be his allies, Ren and the group returned to the castle. Ariel hosted a small private celebration—just for them. The mood was lighter now, laughter echoing in the decorated hall. Food, music, warmth.

Ariel seemed cheerful again, but when she caught Ren alone for a moment, her smile wavered.
“Ren… why won’t you marry me? Am I not good enough?”

Everyone—Kazuma, Rachel, Melissa, Alex, and Lisa—was close enough to hear. Ren glanced at them, then back at Ariel. His voice came soft. “It’s not that, Ariel. But…”

“But what?” she pressed, eyes searching.

Ren’s cheeks colored. “I… already like someone.” His eyes flicked toward Rachel.

Rachel froze, her face blazing red. Melissa smirked and elbowed her playfully. Alex and Kazuma burst out laughing, enjoying every second of it.

Ariel’s lips trembled, then curved into a small smile. “I see… I respect your decision, Ren.”

The celebration carried on. The group laughed, ate, teased each other, and for a while they forgot the fear and violence of earlier that day.

But then, Rachel stiffened. A strange unease ran through her. She jumped slightly, hand moving instinctively to her chest pocket.

“Rachel? What’s happening?” Melissa asked, noticing her strange expression.

“I… I don’t know. Something’s vibrating.”

She pulled out the worn envelope she always carried—the one with her father’s letter. Except now, it glowed faintly, humming. The others leaned in, eyes wide.

“What the hell is that?” Lisa asked, genuinely confused.

“It’s her dad’s letter,” Alex explained quietly.

Rachel opened the envelope carefully. Inside were not one but two parchments. She froze. “What the…? Where did this extra paper come from?”

Nobody answered. Ariel stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “It feels like… some kind of advanced magic.”

Rachel’s hands trembled as she opened the new parchment. She read it silently, her face changing as the words sank in.

Ren leaned forward. “What does it say, Rachel?”

Her voice cracked. “It’s from my father. He saw what happened today. He… he says he wants to meet me, and that I should bring my friends.”

Everyone froze.

The others exchanged uneasy glances. Why ask for her friends too? Was it just a precaution… or did it have something to do with Ren?

Melissa asked quickly, “Did he say where?”

Rachel nodded, a small smile breaking through. “Yes. After so long… he finally told me. He’s at the University of Magic in the Western Continent.”

Ariel folded her arms thoughtfully. “That explains it… the unknown magic he used to send you this letter. He might even be studying advanced spells there—things we don’t yet know of.”

Kazuma blinked. “What’s he doing there?”

Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know. But… it must be tied to his journey. To the truth he’s been searching for.”

Excitement lit the group.

Kazuma grinned, fire back in his eyes. “So… who’s ready for another adventure? Western Continent, here we come!”

Ren laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll go. But let’s leave that adventure for another day.”

The others laughed with him. In that moment, they let go of the battles, the danger, the blood. They just enjoyed being together. The bonds they’d made, the memories they’d built—it was all worth it. For now, their journey came to an end.

Maybe Ren didn’t get all the answers—like why he was sent to this world, or the purpose behind it all. Maybe the mystery still remained, half-hidden in the shadows. But in the end, that was never the true purpose of this adventure. The truth he had been chasing all along wasn’t some grand revelation—it was this. The adventure itself. The laughter, the struggle, the nights under foreign skies. This was the life he had longed for in his past one. And finally, he was living it.

The End