Empty Battlefield

It takes less than a day to get out of the forest. That’s the benefit of having a body that doesn’t need to rest, I suppose. And the lack of any demons in the forest, not that they would do much to slow me down. It took several days of travel for the four of us to reach the Demon King’s castle. They needed to rest properly, after all. I asked them to give so much of their lives, only for me to fail in the end. They were far too good for a man like me.

As I exit the forest I come to the next great stretch of land, a territory no kingdom has claimed, the frontline of the war against the demons, the neverending battlefield: the Whitemarch Plains. The Whitemarch Plains take their name from the color of the grass, though it’s more gray and brown than truly white. It’s said that the wilting of plants comes from the previous great hero. In a great battle against thousands of demons, he unleashed the power of Ascalade, and in doing so brought ruin to the land. Like a curse placed upon it. That’s the power I hold in my hands.

Whitemarch is strange now, though. There’s no signs of battle, even though it’s supposed to be the neverending battlefield. That’s how momentous my death is. If I were gone, if there was no hero, then the Demon King has nothing he needs to fear. He can call his entire army back without any trouble. It’s a miracle that a hero could be born at all. I lived in peace all my life, even once Ascalade chose me.

Or rather, from the very beginning, this life could only exist thanks to the lives of others. More people who needed to die for my sake.

I walk through the empty battlefield. I don’t have any memories of this place. The great hero had fought the Demon King’s generals here, but there was no such thing for us. We left it to the soldiers. We went on ahead. How many more people did we send to their deaths doing that?

I come across a group of six soldiers. They’re sitting around a small fire, tending to a pot. They’re all slumped over. They must have been fighting until yesterday. It seems I’ve done at least one small thing for them then. Though I already felt the demons returning to the forest, so their respite will be short-lived. They’ll be forced to fight again soon.

I’ve forced them to keep fighting.

Let me stay with them a moment longer. Even with Ascalade, I’m too weak to save them. But even so, let me protect their rest even a single moment longer.

“Sirs, do you need help? You all seem tired.”

“Gah, go ahead! What does it matter now!” I kneel in front of their hanging pot and begin to take over their watch.

“How long has it been since you last rested properly, sirs?”

“Not since the hero passed by…” That was over a week ago. No wonder they seem so out of sorts.

“You should sleep, even if only for a little while.”

“Yeah, you’re right, kid. Thanks. Good that there are still kids out there who will help us—” The soldier freezes then seems to wake up. “Don’t try to play us for fools, demon!”

At his words, the other five soldiers spring into action. It’s a reasonable deduction to make, even if they should know the face of the hero as soldiers. I’m a stranger asking them to trust in me. To entrust their lives to me. Of course they should be suspicious of me. It would make the most sense were I a demon.

The six of them scramble for their swords and draw them in unison. It isn’t dangerous at all. Their swords would break on my skin if I let them. But a weapon is a soldier’s lifeline. They’ll need them for what comes next. Even if they run now, I’m sure they will need them soon.

I stay kneeling near their pot, then stretch out my hands to grab each blade at once. I stop all six blades short of breaking.

“I’m not a demon. Please believe me.” The soldiers are all too shocked to say anything in response. Of course they would be. There’s no way they’ve been outclassed like this before. Not when the enemy wasn’t a demon. They just stare at me with mouths agape.

“R-red eyes, tanned skin, and dark brown hair. You… you’re the hero. You’re Hero Dust.” I wish they stayed too tired to realize that.

“I am.”

“How is that possible? You… You’re supposed to be dead.”

It seems the news has already spread. It must have been the demons. It must have been when they began to celebrate. I don’t know whether that’s good or bad. Right now though, I need them to believe me.

“I’m the real thing.” I draw Ascalade and it thrums with the power of the sun. “And I carry the holy sword.”

“T-then, there’s still hope? This war might end? You’ll really be able to kill the Demon King?” He looks at me with hope and desperation. That’s the way a person looks at a hero. I almost can’t bring myself to answer him.

“I can’t. I’m not strong enough.” I can’t answer that look. I can’t be your hero. “I’m returning to the capital.”

“You mean… we’ll have to go back to that hell?”

“You will. I’m sorry.”

“You really mean to abandon us?”

“I do. You should never have believed in me. I’m not qualified to be a hero.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Even now, he looks to me with desperation. All of them do. They all look at me and search for a hero.

“I’ll entrust the holy sword to somebody who can be a hero. That will be my final mission. So until the day comes that a real hero can slay the Demon King, please live.” I don’t think they can accept that. It’s the only thing I can say. And they shouldn’t accept it.

“How could you—!”

“Don’t fight.” There’s a lackadaisical voice that cuts the soldier off. The moment the soldiers hear it, they back down. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it. “But… My, my, my, tan skin, dark hair, red eyes, you’re looking well, aren’t you? Did something good happen, Dust?”

“Zero.”

I turn to look at him. He’s standing there like nothing’s wrong, the same as always. He’s smiling kindly, the same as always. He’s just as he was two days ago: Zero, the Sage of Spirits.