I Became the Hero Who Banished the Protagonist

“It seems you still don’t agree with the plan.”

Bishop Andrei said, glancing at Arjen’s face. He didn’t respond, and Andrei looked away, his interest waning.

“There is no wrong option, though if Elroy and Iris’ plan succeeds, it would be ideal. Though, I doubt you’re even thinking about it now.”

Arjen rubbed the hilt of his sword at his waist.

“That would make my choice relatively cowardly.”
“You shouldn’t try to deny that cowardice before him, as he is far braver than us. In the end, he’s the one who wants to fulfill the ideal we all hoped for. I’m sure he’s comforting himself as he ponders the situation alone.”

Andrei took another drag. A cigarette butt, probably his second of the day, fell to the floor. He frowned and picked it up. A faint orange flame remained.

“You’re looking for the lesser of two evils, but he’s looking for the best, not the second best. Lesser evil does not mean no evil.”
“I don’t understand why a man tasked with saving the world would hope for such an irresponsible answer.”
“You are still mistaken, Arjen.”

Andrei shook his head.

“We are the irresponsible ones. It is we who use life for the greater good and do it again and again and again and again. We don’t try to understand the weight of the lives we take. Have we ever tried to save the people?”

A twisted smile played at the corners of his mouth.

“You and I have always had to take them, and we will continue to do the same. We’ll never know how Elroy feels.”

Andrei rose from his seat. By now, the sun had set entirely. What little light remained in the sky was replaced by black shadows.

***

The night in Bactins was terrible.

There was no sky; only darkness existed in the void where it should have been. The light of the moon illuminating the sea and reflecting off the rippling black waves gives off an ominous sheen. I pulled on my hood and looked back to where Iris and my party were waiting.

“Iris, get on Georg’s back. We are going to move fast from here.”

Iris nodded. I motioned for Daphne to come to me. She couldn’t move as quickly and stealthily as the rest of the party.

“…And me?”
“I’ll be carrying you myself.”
“What-?”

I picked up Daphne before she could make sense of the situation. Daphne’s hands flailed in the air in confusion, but she gingerly placed them on my shoulders. I looked back at Iris; she was perched on Georg’s broad back like she was lying on a slab.

“You remember the location?”
“Of course.”

I felt someone watching me. I turned my head and saw Marianne staring at me. Or, more accurately, my back, where Daphne was gently propped up.

“Why?”
“….”

Marianne didn’t answer, just shook her head and went down the street. I watched her back as she receded to the back.

“It’s getting close to midnight. People will come out on the streets and head for the brewery.”

Andrei said in his usual voice. He was wearing a shabby hood.

“One hour. Remember, we have to be done in that time, and if anything unexpected happens, I’ll leave it up to you to deal with it.”

And with that, Andrei melted into the darkness and disappeared. All that remained was our party, minus Marianne. I eased Daphne into a comfortable position. Her grip on my shoulder tightened uncomfortably.

“Let’s go.”

My steps were not light. The night seemed to want to suck me in rather than hide me. No light, no shadows. The feet felt heavier than usual. I ignored the unpleasant sensation and stopped on some crumbling rubble overlooking the village.

“They’re starting to move.”

Georg said as he watched a group of people begin to stir and gather. One by one, people were opening the doors to their shacks and stepping out into the street. We watched the scene for a moment. Their gait was lifeless. I felt like I was watching rotting wood chips walk with limbs. I shook my head to clear my mind. There was no time to pity them.

“Let’s hurry.”

No need for words. Georg and I kicked off the rubble at the same time and ran down to the village. There was no wind, so we had to be careful with how we ran. We leaped over the roofs of buildings like thieves and landed on the street.

“Now let me down.”

I heard Iris’ voice. Georg released her hand and stepped to the ground, her eyes fixed on the door. Taking a deep breath, the entrance to the shack swung open, and a familiar face poked its head out.

“Saintess? And….”

It was the woman’s husband. He looked at us, his mouth hanging open in confusion. Iris looked up and took a short breath.

“I came to heal your son.”

The man gripped the door and stared, then quickly flung it wide and motioned for her to enter.

“Quick, come in.”

The door slammed shut behind us, and the man quickly closed all the windows in the house, took out a candle, and lit it. The stench of human flesh and unidentifiable odors inside the house assaulted our nasal passages. Every time the man moved, the scents mingled and renewed themselves.

The scruffy-bearded man turned to us with a look of distrust and fear.

“They hate the light. If you shine a light on them at night, they come out of nowhere and scream for you to put it out. It’s been a month since we’ve had any light at night here, though it seems the moonlight is fine.”

He lit the fire and held up the candle to illuminate the room, and I could see the child lying on the cot, covered with a quilt.

“My son is here.”

The man shone the candle into the room. I could see where most of the foul odor was coming from. The left side of the quilted bed was grotesquely bulging. It was where the child’s transplanted right arm was. The man gently tugged at the child’s blanket and lifted it.

“Oh, my God.”
“…Crazy.”

Daphne and Georg muttered at the same time. Flesh and tentacles covered the child’s neck like a leech feeding on his life and growing in size. It was impossible to tell if he was conscious or breathing; he might have become nothing more than the soil from which the tentacles grew. Iris approached the child with a calm face.

“It’s getting worse by the day. Now, they seem to be growing by the hour. My wife is becoming increasingly fond of the child’s bizarre appearance and is losing her mind.”

The man put down the candle and knelt.

“We don’t know what brought you here, but I’ll do anything to help you. Please, Saintess, save my son.”

Iris raised her hand. A swarm of golden light gathered in her palm. It was of the exact nature and form as magic, but the people had a different name for the Saintess’ power.

Divine power.

“Elroy.”

Iris looked at me. Her blue eyes glowed in the candlelight and the light of the divine power. It was still incomplete, unsteady.

“Give me some space.”

But they were also the eyes of someone who vowed never to regret.

“…Of course.”

She turned away and immediately placed her hand over the tentacles that had sprouted from the child’s body, energizing them.

***

The number of inquisitors Bishop Andrei brought with him was not large. Four he deemed competent. Arjen, Marianne, himself, and the deputy captain of the Inquisitors. They lined up at the brewery behind the woman who ushered him in with a vacant smile.

“You have indeed come.”

Andrei nodded, and the woman joined the ranks of those entering the brewery, walking through the darkness with familiar steps. The brewery opened its gates wide. The people began to trickle out and disappear into the night of the brewery.

–Stay focused. Always be conscious of me.

With that signal, Andrei stepped into the building.

The door to the brewery slammed shut. People began to sprawl on the floor in a haphazard heaps.

The door to the brewery slammed shut, and Andrei forced his eyes to look up at him, but he was forced to lower his head as the villagers began to bow their heads in unison. The sound of a thick book being placed on the podium.

“Thank you for gathering here today, brothers and sisters.”

Teacher flipped through the pages of his book and then, with a snap, closed it.

“Today, I’m going to do things a little differently than usual.”

He looked around at the kneeling villagers and then opened his mouth.

“They say that this village was visited by an outsider not long ago.”

There was a swish of the hem of Teacher’s robe as if he were carrying a pack behind him. Then he spoke slowly, pacing.

“Specifically, yesterday, I heard that this town was visited by a believer in the God of Light, a member of the Puritans, a very high-ranking person called the Saintess.”

The voice was calm and heavy. Andrei had a hunch that something terrible was about to happen.

“Today, I will ask you how well you understand our faith and my teachings.”

Teacher, who had been walking behind Andrei, suddenly stopped and raised his voice.

“Now, those of you who have been healed by the Saintess yourself when she came to your town on a relief mission, please raise your heads and look at me.”

There was silence and hesitation among the people, and he knew how to capitalize on it. He stood still and remained silent until the people looked up. The longer the silence lingers, the heavier it feels. When it got to the point where they could hear each other’s breathing, they finally started to move.

A whimper.

One person looked up. It was a woman sitting in the pew in front of Andrei, and they began to look up one by one.

“It’s so nice to see honesty.”

Despite his words, he didn’t sound pleased at all.

“Please come forward and line up. Everyone else, please look up and see your fellow brothers.”

Andrei looked up. At the front of the line, he saw the Teacher’s figure. He stepped before the woman, took her by the shoulders, and looked her in the eye.

“Do you remember what she healed?”

His voice had an interrogating quality to it. The woman nodded in a dazed voice, then opened her mouth.

“I broke my left leg, and she healed it.”
“Is that so?”

The Teacher let out a long sigh of regret.

“I told you, my sister, that the power is all deception. It is our enemy. How can you not realize that?”

Then he lifted his head again. In his hand was a sledgehammer of unknown origin.

“Break it.”

The woman took the hammer.

“Make it what it was before its power defiled your leg.”

There was silence. The woman nodded, then lifted the hammer with trembling hands. Andrei could see both fear and determination in her eyes.

“Are you afraid?”
“…I’m sorry.”
“Well, then, let me help you.”

The hammer smashed down on the woman’s left leg.

Translator’s Corner

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Can’t lie, I feel some aching on my shin while writing that. Anyways, I’ll hopefully be back on a daily schedule. Also, sorry for not posting for a bit.

– Ruminas