Good Luck

The castle gates opened.

I stared at them.

For some reason, I had expected something worse.

Chains.

Guards.

Maybe a horse dragging me into the wilderness.

Instead, I stood at the entrance wearing a completely new set of clothes.

I looked down at myself.

Clean shirt.

New trousers.

Boots.

Even a cloak.

I touched the fabric.

"Seriously?"

I had expected to leave looking like a prisoner. Instead, I looked almost respectable. Then I looked at the sword at my waist. I pulled it halfway from its sheath.

A decent blade.

Not anything legendary, obviously, but it was far better than what I had expected to receive.

I stared at it.

"...This Public Exile isn't so bad."

Cisum stood several steps away.

Beside him were Elaine, Olriad and Elmi.

My chest tightened.

Cisum stepped forward.

"Araleon."

I looked at him.

His expression was cold.

"You will never return to this castle."

I frowned.

"Do not attempt to approach the royal family. Do not attempt to contact the Guardian. Do not attempt to claim your former position."

His eyes hardened.

"You are no longer the Hero."

I lowered my head.

For a moment, I couldn't speak.

I looked at Elmi.

She wouldn't meet my eyes.

Elaine stood beside her.

Olriad looked like he wanted to say something.

But he didn't.

Something inside me cracked.

For two months, I'd believed these people were my allies. I'd trained with them. Talked with them. Trusted them. And now they were watching me leave as if I were some disease they'd finally managed to remove.

I clenched my fists.

'Fine.'

Whatever.

They'd see.

Soon enough, they'd know.

The truth would come out.

I looked toward the road.

"I'll go."

Cisum nodded.

"Good."

One by one, they turned away.

Olriad was the last of the three to move.

He looked back at me.

Our eyes met.

He opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

He followed the others.

Elmi walked away without looking back.

I watched her disappear through the castle gates.

My fingers tightened around the sword.

"Whatever."

I turned away.

"They'll find out soon enough."

Then I noticed someone was still standing behind me.

Benige.

He hadn't left with the others.

He approached slowly.

I frowned.

"What?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he reached into his pocket.

He pulled out a small golden coin.

He tossed it toward me.

I caught it.

I stared at the familiar face engraved on its surface.

A woman's face.

The Queen.

"A Qeen."

I remembered these.

The primary currency of Iria.

One Qeen was a gold coin.

The name had always amused me.

The coin couldn't simply be called a Queen because, apparently, people had decided that would be too sensible.

So they called it a Qeen instead. Clever, on the devs side.

Other kingdoms had their own currencies, but Qeens were accepted almost everywhere throughout Chronix.

I turned the coin between my fingers.

Then looked at Benige.

"Why are you giving me this?"

He shrugged.

"You might need it."

My eyes narrowed.

There was something wrong with his expression. He smiled. Not the polite smile he'd shown the others.

Something darker.

Almost amused.

He stepped closer.

Then tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

"Good luck."

His smile widened.

I stared at him.

He turned around.

And walked back toward the castle.

I watched him disappear through the gates.

My fingers closed around the Qeen.

I didn't understand.

Why give me money?

Why help me?

Was this pity?

Mockery?

Or something else?

I couldn't tell.

And that irritated me more than anything.

I shoved the coin into my pocket.

"Whatever."

I turned toward the road.

The capital was ahead.

If I stayed here, I'd only keep thinking about them.

So I walked. My anger grew with every step. At Elmi.

At Cisum.

At Elaine.

At Benige.

At the Hero's Mark.

At the Miasma Sword.

At this entire ridiculous situation.

Most of all...

At myself.

I had played Hero Chronicle one hundred times.

One hundred scenarios.

I knew this world.

I knew its monsters.

Its kingdoms.

Its dungeons.

Its heroes.

Its villains.

And yet...

I was standing outside the castle with a sword at my waist, a single gold coin in my pocket, and absolutely no idea what was going to happen next.

I laughed bitterly.

"Fine. You don't need a hero, you don't deserve one."