Lian En Klauscher, the Hero who saved the world.
He was summoned from another world, donned in Heavenly Silver Armor, wielding the Explosive Flame Holy Sword, leading his companions through countless adventures.
In the end, he triumphed over the Demon King who sought to conquer the world, bringing an end to the centuries-long rule of the Demon Race.
Nearly every race and every nation across the continent recognized his unparalleled deeds, honoring him as the savior Hero of their lands.
He was, in every sense, the strongest of all. Even without arms or armor, there was no one in this world who could rival him—
That was how it was supposed to be.
“Go—die—!”
“Guwah!”
Beneath the afternoon sun, the wheat field was a blinding sea of gold.
Lian En was sent flying by a kick from a red-haired girl, crying out like a minor enemy getting defeated in an RPG, tumbling head over heels and flattening a swath of ripened wheat.
It wasn’t that his fame was undeserved—he simply hadn’t expected to be attacked by this person before him.
“M-Meliya? What are you doing? It’s me, Lian En! Don’t you recognize me?”
Lian En scrambled to his feet and tried to call out to the one he loved, only to be met with a look of utter bewilderment.
“You’ve been spouting nonsense since you showed up… Where did you come from, you weirdo? Why did you suddenly run onto our farm? Seriously, what are the guards even doing…!”
The girl he’d called Meliya blushed furiously, drew her sword from her waist with a flash, and adopted a defensive stance.
“Wait, wait! Calm down! I just wanted to give you a hug, that’s totally normal for a husband and wife, right?”
“H-husband and wife?!”
The girl stopped in shock.
“Yeah, didn’t we just get married yesterday? I woke up last night looking for a midnight snack, and as soon as I reached the kitchen, I found myself back on Earth.”
“You know, the world I told you about before, the one I originally came from. I don’t even know how it happened—supposedly only the Summoning Circle in Yilansiya’s capital can send me back, but in an instant, just a blink, the scene before my eyes completely changed.”
“I thought I might never see you again. Thank goodness, after just a day or two, I was summoned back here—though, oddly, to this exact spot. This is your family’s wheat field, isn’t it? It hasn’t changed a bit…”
The weight on his heart lifted. Lian En, on the verge of tears, spoke, his feet unconsciously closing the distance between him and the girl.
“Could you please not come any closer! What on earth are you babbling about?!”
“Meliya…?”
The girl retreated step by step; his words, meant to calm her, seemed to have no effect at all.
Her eyes were a jumble of confusion, anger, and uncertainty—it was clear she didn’t know him at all.
The woman he had shared his life with would never look at him like that.
So Lian En studied her once more.
Her beautiful long hair, red as blazing fire, fluttered in the evening breeze.
That familiar and comforting face—it was unmistakable.
No matter how he looked, the person before him was the girl he’d never forgotten even in the direst moments of his journeys, Meliya Ashus.
But… was she younger? Lian En knew his beloved’s face all too well.
She looked so much more youthful, more innocent. Only when they first met had she ever seemed so frail and helpless.
“Don’t tell me… I’ve gone back three years in time.”
Lian En unconsciously clenched his fist.
Three years ago—when he had first been summoned to this world, to Aitixila.
At that time, the entire continent was engulfed in the Holy Crusade War against the Demon Race and the Demon King.
Even this small village on the outskirts of Yilansiya wasn’t spared.
Meliya’s parents had died in one of the Demon Race’s raids, and since then, she’d been running the family farm alone.
Looking at the bewildered girl before him, Lian En grew certain of his suspicion.
If this was the poor child who had just lost her parents, then his affectionate behavior would only be seen as that of a ruffian, a scoundrel intent on taking advantage of her.
Why hadn’t he realized sooner? Lian En chastised his own dullness.
It was exactly to keep that expression off her face that he’d resolved to fight in the first place.
For three years he had overcome countless trials and dangers, teetering between life and death, and finally defeated the Demon King to return to her side.
He had thought they could finally share a happy life, but after only a single night, that happiness had vanished like a bubble.
In the past, such a reality might have broken him.
Yet, gazing at the girl’s face, Lian En felt a strength welling within him as never before.
He stepped back, and, remembering the proper knightly etiquette of Yilansiya, dropped to one knee before her:
“I’m sorry for frightening you. It seems… I mistook you for my wife. You look far too much like her.”
“For my rude behavior, I won’t ask for forgiveness with empty words. I am Lian En Klauscher, the Hero summoned from another world to Yilansiya. I hereby vow to atone for my sins with my deeds—”
“In the name of the Hero, I promise: I will defeat the Demon King for you, end this war, and from then on, protect you for the rest of my life, never leaving your side.”
Almost as if in response to his resolve, Lian En’s whole body flared with crimson-gold light, an immense and peerless magic surging through him.
This was the proof of his identity as Hero.
Wielded by his will, this power could burn away evil like a raging fire, or heal pain like a gentle spring breeze.
He was no longer the ignorant youth who’d first arrived in this world, but a Hero tempered by countless trials.
To walk the same path again, to face the same trials once more—no, if it was for the girl before him, what did it matter if he had to do it a thousand, ten thousand more times?
The girl’s longsword clattered to the ground, and her once-pale cheeks turned redder than the burning clouds at sunset.
“Um… are you trying to propose to me? But the Demon King’s already been defeated. And even if you sound so sincere… my mother would never let me date another girl!”
The girl could not tell if Lian En was joking. Her reply came out shy and hesitant, her eyes turning to confusion and bashfulness.
“Wait… did you say the Demon King’s already been defeated?”
So much information was packed into that one short sentence that Lian En couldn’t process it all at once.
He had wanted to sweep the girl off her feet with bold words, but nothing about her response was anything he expected.
And dating another girl…? How could I possibly look like a girl?
Following the girl’s shy gaze, Lian En glanced down and noticed a strange swelling beneath his clothes at his chest.
Curiously, he reached out to touch it, and the soft sensation tugged oddly at his chest.
“Ah!”
Lian En screamed, utterly at a loss. Maybe he’d been too emotional to notice before—but even his scream sounded nothing like what he was used to; it was sharper, higher, unmistakably a girl’s voice.
“Wh-what’s happening to me?!”
Desperately searching for anything that might reflect his appearance, Lian En spotted only the sword the girl had dropped.
Its blade shone mirror-bright, perfectly capturing his current visage:
His messy black hair was familiar enough, if a bit longer at the sides and back than he remembered; the features set into his delicate, oval face were almost too beautiful to be called “pretty,” yet “extraordinary” felt like an overstatement—both words used more often for women.
The only thing that still resembled his old self was the hint of heroic spirit lingering in his brows.
He’d always been somewhat confident in his looks, but he’d never thought he was that pretty. No, the girl in the sword’s reflection was about the same age as Meliya—a girl.
“M-m-m-me…?!”
Lian En squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again, but the girl in the sword remained.
He pulled the ugliest faces he could manage, and the girl matched him expression for expression.
No matter what he tried, her face always copied his.
This has to be a nightmare, this has to be a nightmare… If I slap myself, maybe I’ll wake up… Ow!
Lian En slumped helplessly to the ground, muttering to himself as he slapped his own face and clutched the sword like a mirror.
Just then, the girl he’d thought was Meliya darted behind a newcomer.
“Mother, this girl is so weird! She—she just confessed to me, and now she’s talking to herself in my sword like a lunatic… Oh, and she just slapped herself in the face!”
“Oh dear, such a formal confession can’t be taken lightly. And a young lady shouldn’t treat her face so roughly. Whose child are you…?”
A gentle hand touched Lian En’s flushed cheek, lifting his face. The moment their eyes met, he was transfixed.
Amber eyes, deep as if they held every yearning, every tenderness, every lingering affection in the world.
Just meeting that gaze filled him with comfort, relief, and the urge to weep.
“You are… Meliya.”
It wasn’t a question, but a certainty.
The woman—no, the matron—before him was no longer young, but anyone could see she was the grown version of the red-haired girl clinging to her dress behind her.
She wore clothes utterly unlike the girl’s; in a word, she looked noble rather than common.
Not only her carefully groomed appearance and splendid attire, but her entire bearing radiated the dignity of true nobility, a presence that commanded respect.
Compared to the girl just now, and the Meliya in his memories, she was a completely different person.
“Ah! You dare to call Mother by her name! How rude for a mere commoner—”
“Milin.” The red-haired girl’s rebuke was cut off by the noblewoman.
She gazed quietly into Lian En’s eyes, scrutinizing his face as if digging for hidden treasure beneath the surface.
“Milin, dear child. Do you know her? What is her name?”
“I-I’ve never seen her before. But she… she mentioned that person’s name just now.”
The lady’s voice was gentle, almost devoid of inflection. The red-haired girl, called by her name, shivered and answered timidly.
“That name? Oh, you mean your father. Now that I look closely, this child’s eyes and brows… are exactly like his.”
The Meliya so different from Lian En’s memories gently stroked his cheek, her eyes awash with nostalgia and sorrow.
Lian En, numb, endured her gaze, his mind a complete jumble.
What is going on? If this woman is Meliya… then who is that girl? How could Meliya have become like this? And a daughter and father…
“Child. What is your relationship to Lian En Klauscher?”
Meliya’s gaze held him as she quietly asked this question.
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