I Became the Hero Who Banished the Protagonist

6:30 AM. Elroy wakes up.

It was later than his usual wake-up time. Marianne had gotten up at 5:00, washed up, and sat in bed waiting for him to stir, but he didn’t wake up until half an hour later. She turned her head and eyes to the roof as she heard him moving around the room.

“…A little late.”

She heard Elroy mutter. His room was directly above Marianne’s. She blinked, slowly becoming aware of his every step, every movement. She hadn’t slept much, but her body could function without it.

“I need to wash up.”

A rustling sound led him to the door. It opened, closed softly, and shuffled out into the hallway. Marianne pushed herself out of bed, deciding she should get up as well. The sun had risen much later. Summer has finally ended.

“….”

Marianne stared out the window in a daze. The Capital’s window views are different from the ones she knows. It’s colorful but not clean. It’s loud but not rowdy. It was not the tidy landscape of the Holy Land nor Bactins or Evernode. The appeal of the scenery was lost on Marianne. It was simply there, neither undesirable nor desirable.

She used to never look out her window.

“It’s getting cold.”

With that muttered comment, Elroy went into the bathroom. Marianne got up and walked toward the kitchen. Her house shoes squeaked against the wooden floor. She planned to make breakfast while Elroy cleaned up.

The light came on. While the pan heated up, Marianne searched for cooking oil. The headquarters kitchen was practically her second room. The cupboards, the dishes, the cooking utensils. She owned everything in sight. She grabbed different ingredients and began to cook.

Using the kitchen was relaxing. The sound of the stove heating up, the crack of an egg, the orderly, refined movement of her hands. Marianne loved the kitchen here. It was a shame that for a five-story building, the kitchen was only the size of an average family home. She finished preparing the meal and set the plates on the table.

“….”

Marianne then looked over to where Elroy usually sat. It was annoying that he insisted on cooking every chance he got. He was motivated but had no talent. If he was so good with a sword, why couldn’t he cook?

“Oh, that smells delicious.”

Elroy appeared, a towel draped over his shoulders, coming down the stairs. Marianne nodded, poured water, and sat down on a chair. Elroy sat down across from Marianne, rubbing under his eyes. He looked tired. ‘Something is bothering him.’

“I’ve prepared it as usual.”
“I’ll eat.”

Elroy said and picked up his cutlery. He looked pretty happy as he ate Marianne’s food. As Marianne ate her breakfast, she occasionally looked up to see his reaction. She would feel a slight sense of satisfaction when she saw that look.

“Any plans for today?”

Elroy asked, and Marianne shook her head. “Is that so?” He said as he picked up a piece of bread to eat. The toasted bread crunched and crumbled in his mouth.

“I will go to the blacksmith guild today to retrieve my sword. Do you want to come with me?”

Marianne blinked, then nodded. She hadn’t expected Elroy to suggest this first.

“I’ll quickly finish my work for today, and then we’ll go.”
“I understand.”

Elroy looked at Marianne and smirked. She fidgeted and avoided his gaze for a moment, then stood up and began to clear the dishes. Elroy stared at her momentarily, then gathered his plates and left them by the sink. Marianne glanced at Elroy, who turned to leave.

***

8:00 AM. Elroy’s workday begins.

As the Hero, Elroy was naturally in charge of the administrative work of the Hero’s Party. He stared at a piece of paper, pondering what he had to do today.

“The nobles sure are annoying. Her Majesty made it clear that we shouldn’t be invited to different events for political reasons.”

In frustration, Elroy fidgeted with the letter envelope between his index and middle finger. A check slipped through the loose envelope.

“If you’re going to do this, just send me the money. Funny how it’s not even a donation. Don’t they ever get tired of it?”

Elroy frowned and tossed the check onto the stack of papers. He doesn’t even bother to write back; he just throws the check in the mail and sends it back. However, the nobles don’t seem to get the message.

“…Isn’t that right?”

Marianne nodded in response to Elroy’s question. He picked up his pen to write again but stopped as he looked at Marianne, who was staring at him. Confused, he tilted his head, but she said nothing in return.

“…Is there something on my face?”

She heard Elroy mutter as he stood up to go to the bathroom.

***

1:30 PM.

Something was wrong with Marianne. She’d been stealing glances at me since last night and seemed to follow me. However, she hadn’t taken her eyes off me this morning. I couldn’t tell her to stop or figure out what she was doing.

(I’m sure she’s got something on her mind. Be careful she doesn’t peek in on you while you’re washing up.)

The Holy Sword said something weird. I furrowed my brow.

(The quieter they are, the scarier they become, for you never know what’s going on in their minds.)

Marianne is a good girl, but she is an Inquisitor under Bishop Andrei.

Arriving at the Blacksmith’s Guild, we turned down a long alley and reached the shop. The blacksmith, Robin, came out to greet us. Robin chuckled, removed her gloves, and invited us in.

“Oh, darling. Long time no see. Did you see the letter I sent you?”

I nodded. For some reason, I felt Marianne’s gaze on me become sharper.

“Yes. The sword is almost finished. You should try holding it.”

Robin nodded cheerfully and pointed to a sword hilt wrapped in a cloth. Even though the sword was wrapped in cloth, the exposed parts showed it was nearing completion. I swallowed dryly and stared at it.

(…A much better sword than I thought.)

Even the Holy Sword praised it. I was looking forward to seeing what it was. Robin must have noticed how I looked at the sword because she unwrapped it from the cloth and showed it to me.

“It’s been a while since I’ve made one, so I guess I got a little carried away. It took much longer than I expected.”
“Is it finished?”

Robin shook his head and carried the sword over to the furnace.

“I need to quench it a few times, dip it in the oil one last time, and sharpen the blade. It won’t take long, so if you could sit and wait for a while, I’d appreciate it.”

Robin dipped the sword into the furnace, pulled it out, and let it cool again.

“Still, I don’t think I’ll be making swords again unless this one breaks, and the Hero says he needs one again.”

Robin looked at the sword and smiled bitterly. I nodded my head. The blade glowed red. She dipped the sword into a long circular vat. She then took the sword out and wiped it on a cloth.

“It looks like I’ve become the dedicated blacksmith working for the Hero.”

At the blacksmith’s words, Marianne’s gaze sharpened even more. Robin, watching her from the corner of her eye, found how much teasing she could get away with.

“I am so honored to be doing this. I should put up a sign saying so.”
“How can you put up a sign like that if you don’t make equipment for other people?”

Robin shrugged nonchalantly and put the sword in the polisher. The blade glowed bluishly as it dipped in and out of the oil. Robin squinted at the edge, then placed it against the spinning grinder. Sparks flew, and the blade began to sharpen.

“It’s an unnecessarily strong alloy, so it takes some effort to sharpen it. Honestly, I can’t imagine a situation where this thing breaks, and I have to make another.”

Robin grumbled, pulling the sword out and inspecting it again.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make a sword like this again. I’ve got a few sword names in mind.”

Sword names. I blinked and looked at the sword. The Holy Sword was a Holy Sword. Who knew swords had a name?

(It depends. Some knights gave their swords human-like names and treated them like lovers.)
‘…Honestly, I wouldn’t go that far.’

Some people are just different.

“There, that’s it.”

Robin said simply, laying the sword on the cloth and returning to the table. Marianne’s gaze, still glaring at me, was drawn to the sword’s brilliance. The blade was almost translucent. This is what happens when a metal called mithril is used.

“This is your second sword.”

A wave-like pattern was carved into the hilt. I ran my index finger across the blade. I felt a faint chill run up my fingers. I felt the cold spread through my body as if trying to observe every detail of my body. The blade was similar in length and width to the Holy Sword. It felt like it had been purposely made to be paired with it.

(It seems hostile towards you. Even the sword used by the Northern Archduke lets you use it freely. I wonder if it knows that it was forged for you.)

The Holy Sword said, intrigued. Without hesitation, I grasped the sword with my left hand. A chill coursed through it, then lingered on my arm as if it had suddenly hardened.

(Elroy, let me take care of this spoiled brat.)

The Holy Sword’s voice was as cold as my arm. Suddenly, the chill was gone. The sword in my left hand seemed to twitch and move.

“What should we name it?”

I asked Marianne. Marianne’s eyes widened as if she hadn’t expected to be asked that question. She looked at the sword.

“…Would you mind if I named it?”
“I can’t think of a good name right now.”

Marianne rubbed her chin in silence, then studied the wave pattern on the blade.

“How about ‘Null’?”
“Null. That’s a cute name.”

I said and gripped the hilt of my sword. Marianne gave me a brief look, and I nodded my head.

I’ll call it Null.
“That’s a good name.”

Robin chimed in. I grinned sheepishly and raised the sword. Null. I honestly liked the name.

“Nice of you to name the sword, by the way.”

Robin grinned at Marianne. She looked back at Robin in confusion, and I sighed at the subtle dynamic between the two.

***

4:00 PM. Elroy returns home.

Elroy wanted to familiarize himself with his new sword and asked Marianne for a duel. She was quick to accept this unexpected offer. While she had taught him a few concepts but never fought him with a sword and spear. Marianne sat in the office without him.

“Well, I’ll go down to the basement first.”

The basement of the headquarters was our training room. Elroy walked down with a somewhat excited look, holding his newly acquired sword. Marianne leaned on her chair and stared at her desk. She wondered what Elroy was frowning at as he continued to scribble; she couldn’t possibly rummage through his desk.

Just then, Marianne’s eye caught sight of a piece of paper on the floor. Marianne couldn’t resist the urge to pick it up and look at it. It was the paper he had been writing on.

Just putting it back.

With that justification for her curiosity, Marianne cautiously approached the paper, picked it up, read what was written on it, and froze in place.