Recollection 3

Once again, I found myself at the training grounds.

My body didn't move like it used to. I was slow, the power of my blows was lacking, and the magic I had affinity with paled in comparison to the power of my Blessing.

But I kept practicing.

I no longer had to save the world. When I lost my Blessing, I lost obligations I had as a hero candidate. I didn't need to train, and I didn't have to risk my life for others' sake. But whenever I thought about the Demon Lord's invasion, a sense of impatience and uncertainty welled up inside of me.

Back in my youth, I thought there was no one more fit to become a Hero than me. I was the strongest of them all, and if I couldn't defeat the Demon Lord, then no one else could. Outside of swordsmanship, I disregarded all the other combat techniques and only practiced my Blessing over and over again. And that's what made me the strongest. I believe that to this day. But that was exactly I was so weak without it.

I never liked the system of hero candidates. You can call it ego, or you can call it arrogance, but I always hated how useless everyone around me was. Only now, I had enough presence of mind to admit it—I looked down on everyone else and believed that I was justified in doing so.

But it was a contradiction. Despite my hatred for hero candidates, my entire life has been centered on becoming a Hero. All of my worth, all of my arrogance—all of it hinged on the fact that I was the strongest. That I would eventually save the world.

And now that I could no longer do so, I was truly worthless. No, even more importantly, I couldn't find any worth in myself—all of my worth was tied to the Blessing.

I was sure that others could find purpose in other things. Like their character, or maybe their way of life, the goals they had, the principles they abided to—but all of that was foreign to me. I couldn't even imagine myself as anything but a hero candidate. When I was doing nothing as I went back and forth between classes and the dormitory, all of my thoughts about the future were stupidly simplistic and vague. I thought that anything was fine as long as I wasn't a hero candidate. But that 'anything' might have very well been 'nothing'.

I once though that there was nothing more moving in this world than a story of a Hero.

Despite my derision for the system and everyone around me, I still found purpose in being a hero candidate. So how could I abandon my duty? How could I have lost my Blessing?

A bunch of memories went missing along the way. Or maybe it was better to say that additional memories were added at some point.

I saw visions. They were faint and vague. Honestly, they shouldn't have been considered anything but delusions. But for some reason, I couldn't shake them off. 

In them, I saw the end of a Hero's journey. And that ending broke me.

I always knew the ending. Everyone knew. But somehow, seeing it with my own eyes, feeling it on my own skin—it made it unbearable.

They will tell you that a Hero's end is beautiful. That the world will be saved. But the truth couldn't be more different. The world will keep going, yes, but it will be just as ugly and twisted as it always had been. You can delay the inevitable. You can continue the existence of this world for just a little longer. But no matter what, at its core, the world will remain the same. After all, what kind of beautiful world would be built on sacrifices?

There's nothing moving about a story of a Hero.

And once I realized that, I could no longer find it in myself to keep going.

But then why? Why was I here, at the training grounds? Why did I have my sword in hand? Why did I seek strength that lay beyond my Blessing?

I swung my sword again and again, cast spell after spell, and kept going until I could no longer stand straight.

And as I lay on the ground and stared at the golden skies, I once again found myself remembering Elias's words.

I'm not powerless, huh?

Maybe that was why I trained. I didn't want to feel powerless and pathetic. When I was swinging my sword, I could forget myself for just a brief moment. As my muscles screamed in pain, and my lungs ached for air, I could ignore the golden skies. But eventually, I had to come back to this twisted world.

If I became stronger—strong enough to no longer feel worthless—could I accept this world for what it is? Would this anxiety disappear as well?

"...I hate it... I hate this world."

I found myself muttering that part out loud. Not so quietly that it would disappear into nothingness, but not loud enough that anyone could hear me. Or so I thought.

"Sometimes, I find myself thinking the same thing."

But contrary to my expectations, someone did hear me. In my periphery, a human figure appeared. I moved my body upwards slightly, struggling against the pain, and took a good look at the person.

"...Prism?"

It was Alan Welker, the hero candidate.

He laughed slightly in response.

"I'm thankful that you use that moniker instead of the more famous one," Alan said as he smiled in a slightly self-deprecating manner.

I furrowed my brows, feeling slightly awkward.

"I'm just paying due respects to your strength... I know what you are here for, and my answer is the same—I'm not going to join your party."

I had already been through this. Another member of the party, and another attempt at persuading me. Truthfully, their attempts have been pretty convincing so far, but I still had no intention of saving the world.

Alan's smile shifted slightly, turning into a wry grin.

"Straight to the point, huh? Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm only here to train."

Hearing his words made me remember that there was no one who spent as much time on the training grounds as Alan. It was only natural for him to be here like any other day. If anything, he was late compared to his usual schedule.

"Ahem, anyway I just wanted to say that in advance before you mention that," I spat out somewhat forcefully in a poor attempt at excusing myself.

"Sure."

He responded simply and then went up to the training dummies. Then, he began practicing just like he usually did. It seemed this time he was focusing on his swordsmanship.

Some time passed. For whatever reason, I continued observing him. Unlike his party members, he didn't try to speak with me or convince me to join him. He just trained like usual.

I was the one who decided to speak up instead.

"...Those words... what did you mean by that?" I started somewhat vaguely as I recalled the start of our conversation.

He turned around for just a second, his expression showing slight surprise, and then replied as he continued his training.

"Those words...? ...You mean... the ones about hating the world?"

He swung multiple times, speaking in between swings. Then, once he finally reached a stopping point in his training, he walked towards me and sat next to me before continuing his response.

"Phew... It's pretty obvious what I mean, no? When you are a hero candidate, you just sometimes find yourself hating this world, right? I won't say I understand you, but I get that feeling at least. This system is twisted. I don't believe that hero candidates being forced to save the world is just."

I knew that his past wasn't exactly the most fortunate so I understood where he was coming from. But at the same time, there was something I couldn't comprehend no matter how much I thought about it.

"...Then why?" I asked, a hint of desperation in my voice. "Why do you try to save it? Is it worth going through all this trouble for a world like this? Unlike other hero candidates you have a perfectly valid excuse to run away."

This time, he didn't reply immediately. Instead, he hummed thoughtfully as he looked up at the skies. I wondered if, just like in Elias's case, the orange skies reminded him of the past.

"Hmm... I guess it's very simple for me. I don't agree with the system, but I can understand why it works that way. And honestly, I don't need an excuse. You see... I have my reasons for wanting to be a hero candidate. And instead of searching for excuses, I'm searching for reasons."

"Searching... for reasons...?" I echoed his words, as if trying to get a feel for them. I understood what they meant logically, but I couldn't quite grasp them.

"Yeah." He nodded. "If the world is twisted, then we have to change it. If we don't change it, then it will always remain in this twisted state. So many people have died to keep this world going. Sacrifices might not be just—but I definitely don't want them to become worthless."

By the time I noticed it, the smile form before had disappeared from Alan's face. In its stead, came an expression of resolve. There was a certain light in his eyes that made your eyes gravitate towards them.

"But... doesn't it feel pointless?" I asked. "Knowing that despite everything you do, the world will remain the same? This hero candidate system has gone for hundreds of years and it will remain the same for just as long. No matter how much you struggle, the world will not budge... Doesn't that make you feel empty?"

Alan tore his eyes away from the skies and directed his gaze at me. For the first time since he started his explanation, he was looking in my eyes.

"I see... so that's what you think about it... But I disagree with you, Zephyrus. I don't think that the world will not change. Maybe it is simply arrogance on my part, but I believe that If I can save the world, then I can also change it. If I can make the world just a bit better than before, then it's good enough for me. As long as I live, I'm going to do everything in my power to make the world better. And I'm not just talking about defeating the Demon Lord."

This boy wanted to change the world. He didn't want to save everyone in spite of the world's permanence—he wanted to do it because he believed that he could make it better. But I couldn't see it as anything but delusion.

"...But how are you going to change it? No matter how much you struggle and no matter how hard you try, the time you have is so limited... After all..."

I trailed off as I hesitated to speak. I had avoided thinking about it entirely. But deep inside, this thought tortured me from within.

And then I spoke about it. About the end of a Hero. The end of every Hero.

"After all...once you defeat the Demon Lord, you will die."

It was a common piece of knowledge. Not a single Hero had ever survived the fight with the Demon Lord. Not because all of them lost their lives in the fight, instead they lost their lives in the aftermath.

Demon Lord could not be killed. The only way to defeat it was to seal it with an especially powerful barrier. The only thing that could power something on that scale was the greatest of Goddess's gifts. Namely, her Blessings. Once a Hero defeated the Demon Lord, the Blessing inside of them served as a sort of ritualistic spell to seal the Demon Lord.

No matter how powerful Blessings were, they could do nothing without energy. They constantly used life force of the user in order to activate and work. Usually, it wasn't too bad. If you overused the Goddess's Blessing, it could have catastrophic consequences, but as long as you didn't go that far, you could recover all of it back.

But the Sacred Seal was a different case altogether. In order to contain a being as powerful as the Demon Lord, the costs of its activation were enormous. So much so that the only price that could activate the seal was the Hero's life.

That's why those who slayed the Demon Lord—True Heroes, as the Radiants called them—could never be alive. All of them perished the moment they achieved that title.

And in a way, it exemplified everything I hated about this world. The ones who did the most for this world got nothing. The world didn't reward those who deserved it.

Alan didn't respond. He merely continued looking at me, listening to my words.

"...So how are you going to change the world? To save it is to give away your life. You will play along with this cruel system, get used by it, and then disappear before you could ever change it. What meaning is there in a sacrifice like that?"

Alan remained quiet. He closed his eyes for just a few breath. But once he opened his eyes, they burned with the same determination as they did before. Finally, he answered me.

"Even so... This doesn't change what I have to do. I was once naive enough to believe that saving the world was something beautiful. Now, I know that it's terrifying and cruel. But I can't turn back anymore. No matter how flawed the world might be, if we don't do anything—if we all pretend that everything is alright as we disparage this world—nothing will ever change."

Alan's eyes shined with a powerful light.

"Someone has to do something. Otherwise, all we've done is just accept our helplessness. And if the burden lies with me, then I will not shy away from it. It is precisely because I hate this world that I will act. I will change as much of its twistedness as I can before I lose my life. And then, I will pass this aspiration and hope to the next person. For as long as the world still stands, the hope will exist."

Something about his words tugged at my heartstrings. 

Every time I disparaged this world, there was a desolate feeling inside of my chest, telling me that I had to do something. Maybe that's what he meant. That feeling of helplessness that many people accepted in their lives.

There was something beautiful about Alan's resolve. He didn't want to be a Hero. He knew how terrifying this journey could be more than anyone else. But despite all of that, he didn't want to just sit on the sidelines as the world was being torn apart.

It was blinding. And maybe precisely because of that, it made me painfully aware of how different I was.

"But..." I began, hesitantly, "I don't have the same resolve as you... I can't just throw away my life and hope that something will eventually change. I had lost that hope long time ago... I cannot find it in myself to put faith in the ones who will come after us."

No one ever helped me with my burden. And passing my hopes on didn't result in change. I could still see that in my memories. Those memories were fragmented, inconsistent, partial, and scattered. They were closer to delusions, but I could still see them vividly in my mind. And that's why, I couldn't believe in others.

A smile appeared on Alan's face.

"That's fine. You don't need to have the same resolve as me. Frankly, you are free to call me a madman. If you don't have that faith, then you don't need it. All I want is for people to do what they can. If we can do that much, then the world will surely still have some hope left. You can leave the Demon Lord to me. Instead, live and change the world that comes after that with your own hands."

The vision Alan showed me was beautiful. Involuntarily, I found myself being drawn to it. I knew that it was only a sign of my weakness; I merely clung to someone else's future, unable to build my own. But a part of me thought it was fine this way. 

"...Do you think you have what it takes to become a Hero?"

No matter how beautiful his vision was, I couldn't help but have doubts. In his vision, in the potential of this world, in his resolve.

"But of course," Alan replied confidently. "And if you don't believe me, you can go with me and see it with your own eyes. And once you have your answer, please, lend me your power—and change the world as you see fit."

He then extended his hand towards me, offering a handshake. 

Despite my doubts, I wanted to believe. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, a week later or even a year later—but someday, I wanted to believe in the same future that he believed in.

And so, I took his hand.

I was not fit to be a Hero. I wouldn't lead this world into a better future. But maybe—just maybe—I could find it in me to believe in Alan. Someday. And when that time comes, I can at least do my part.

Unknowingly, I found a slight smile appear on my lips. As I felt the warmth of his hand and the hollow desolate feeling fade away from my chest, I had a single thought.

Ah, I finally understand.

This is what it means to be a Hero.