A hero, his companions, and the great evil they face.
At first glance, it’s a story so common that it borders on cliché.
Anyone who lives in a community has likely heard such a story at least once.
Whether it’s David defeating Goliath, Hercules, Hong Gildong, King Arthur, or Robin Hood, these mythic heroes hold immense importance.
They inspire the people, becoming symbols of faith and belief.
They are the pillars that uphold someone’s life.
Push this further, and they even form the basis of religions.
Thus, heroes have always been significant throughout history.
But what if such heroes were alive?
Meeting a living hero—it was a childhood wish of mine. It was such a sincere hope that I wrote it on my Christmas card.
Of course, that wish was shattered the moment I learned Santa wasn’t real.
The world, unlike stories, was cruel.
But this place is different. Here, legends are alive.
Here, myths breathe.
Events from fairy tales actually happen.
Whether that’s a good thing or not, I’m not sure, but it is true.
I had always been curious about how the hero’s party fought.
The first reason was pure curiosity.
A hero is like a figure from myth, isn’t it? I wondered what kind of person they were.
Do they have arms and legs? Do they even have a head? Are they human at all?
In modern terms, it’s like imagining Hercules rampaging through a battlefield filled with gunfire.
Doesn’t that thought alone make your heart race?
The second reason, coincidentally, was also curiosity—but of a different kind.
I wanted to know this:
How do they fight to earn such infamy?
Now that I’m witnessing their battle firsthand, I think I might have found the answer.
I have one question.
“What… What am I even looking at right now?”
With a frozen expression, I stared ahead. Before my eyes, something bizarre was happening.
“Hahaha! Inflict more wounds upon me! Oh, Lady Naias! I feel your divine power coursing through me!”
That “something” was none other than Paladin Artorius.
He was smiling brightly, flashing his pearly whites as always.
However, today, something strange was clinging to his body.
Several Snowflower Wolves were latched onto him.
One on each arm, three on his torso, two on each leg, and even one around his neck.
‘Is he… not going to die from that?’
The wolves were biting him with desperate ferocity, but Artorius remained serene.
“The power of the gods fills my body! This is the mercy and grace of the divine! Bow down, insignificant beings! Behold the power of the gods!”
He spread his arms wide and shouted toward the heavens.
His pose resembled a devout believer praising the gods.
His voice carried both solemnity and joy, exuding a strange sense of sanctity.
What in the world… Is he healing himself?
Is that why he doesn’t feel pain?
But even if that’s the case, how is he smiling like that?
“Such pain and trials cannot stop me! Bring me greater agony, insignificant beings!”
…It was faster to give up trying to understand.
Deciding to stop thinking, I turned my gaze away from him.
This time, I looked at Bliss.
Like Artorius, she was also fighting the Snowflower Wolves.
“Die! Die! How dare you, a mere monster, try to bite a human!”
She was shouting furiously as she slammed her weapon down.
At her feet was a mass of crimson flesh, presumably what remained of a Snowflower Wolf.
When I realized what it was, I couldn’t help but be shocked.
‘It… doesn’t have a shape…?’
It was nothing but minced meat—or rather, I should say, ground meat.
The Snowflower Wolf had been reduced to a bloody pulp, so finely mashed that it resembled tomato sauce.
The horrific sight left me speechless.
Just how many times did she have to hit it for it to end up like that?
Even a blender wouldn’t have achieved such a smooth consistency.
One thing was clear: she had been hitting it for a long time.
Wait… does that mean she’s been doing nothing but pounding that one wolf all this time?
I stared at her with trembling eyes and couldn’t help but gasp.
She was smiling.
With every swing of her morning star, she let out a high-pitched laugh.
Unable to handle the sight, I turned away from her.
Next, I looked at Agnes.
‘She’s got to be normal, right…?’
After witnessing the previous horrors, I desperately hoped Agnes would be the voice of reason.
“This isn’t quite right… Hmm, maybe like this? No, that’s not it either… Hmm, tricky.”
Thankfully, she seemed more normal than the two psychotic clerics I’d just seen.
She was calmly dealing with the wolves using swordsmanship.
It looked like she was testing out a new technique—the Wind Dragon’s Sword.
‘Ah, she’s practicing in a real fight.’
It made sense.
Practicing on living creatures like these monsters could be very helpful.
Her swordsmanship was as precise and beautiful as ever.
I couldn’t help but be amazed.
Even though it was slightly rough, she was performing the Wind Dragon’s Sword technique with surprising accuracy.
‘If she can do this against monsters…’
It seemed like she was close to mastering the technique.
Watching her filled me with a strange sense of pride.
Despite the tense situation, I couldn’t help but feel good seeing her.
Is this what a teacher’s heart feels like?
I watched her with warm eyes, but soon I had to change my expression to one of confusion.
As I observed her more closely, I noticed something strange.
The wolves she struck weren’t dying.
Despite being struck multiple times, the wolves didn’t die.
They were drenched in blood, but instead of staying down, they growled and kept getting back up.
Rein struck them down again, and they would growl and rise once more. The process repeated endlessly, like watching zombies in action.
‘Why won’t they die?’
It didn’t seem like they were unharmed.
The wolves fighting her were covered in countless wounds, their fur soaked in crimson blood.
They were panting heavily as if exhausted, their eyes half-closed and barely open.
They looked like they were on the verge of collapse—true embodiments of the phrase “near death.”
‘Could it be because she hasn’t mastered her sword technique yet…?’
It seemed plausible.
Rein hadn’t fully mastered the Wind Dragon’s Sword yet.
But even so, her current performance didn’t match what I’d seen in her previous duels.
Then a sudden thought crossed my mind.
No way…
Could she be intentionally keeping them alive?
My body shuddered at the thought.
A chill ran down my spine, and goosebumps prickled my skin.
‘No, that can’t be…’
Surely, she wouldn’t do something so psychotic as keeping them alive for training.
Anyone with a shred of humanity wouldn’t.
Convincing myself it wasn’t possible, I continued to observe her.
But my thoughts were utterly shattered by her next words.
“These ones are reaching their limit… I wish they could last a little longer.”
‘She’s insane.’
Quietly, I turned my gaze away from her.
Next, I looked at Olivia. She was using magic against the wolves.
“Hmm… if I adjust this, the firepower is too low… Let’s tweak it this way.”
Ah, she’s experimenting with her magic.
It’s true that there’s no better way to test spells than on living targets.
Of course, this activity might seem inhumane, but how else can you test destructive power?
You can’t very well experiment on humans.
Maybe it’s because I use magic too, but I could empathize with her reasoning.
Honestly, she might be the only normal person in this party.
Or perhaps she only seems that way because I just came from watching the others.
Satisfied with her methodical approach, I turned my attention to the hero.
‘Let’s see how the hero fights.’
The hero was cutting down wolves without a word.
His movements were incredibly efficient. With just a few swings of his sword, wolves were falling left and right.
His attacks were eerily silent.
There were no grand effects, no dramatic sounds—nothing.
Not even the sound of his breathing could be heard.
It was… mechanical.
He displayed no expressions, no words, no emotions—just an unchanging, blank face as he swung his sword.
It was a stark contrast to the faint emotions he usually showed.
Watching him made it hard to breathe.
What if I were one of those wolves?
‘Just imagining it is horrifying.’
I now understood why demons fear the hero so much.
How could you not be terrified when faced with someone who kills you with such cold indifference?
Silently, I looked around at the battlefield.
The hero party’s combat scene unfolded before my eyes.
***
“I’m not satisfied yet! Strike me harder, creatures! Give me more pain!”
“Die! Die! Just die already! Repent in death!”
“It might hurt a bit, but bear with it for training. You need to endure being cut for me to improve.”
“Oh, oops… if I cast it this way, their bodies just explode. I can’t use this—it’s too much firepower.”
***
Wow.
Is this… hell?
I think I understand why demons who’ve encountered this hero party fled for their lives.
A blank-faced hero, a crazed cleric, a psychotic mage, and a sociopathic swordswoman—what is this, some kind of suicide squad?
From humanity’s perspective, these people are heroes saving the world.
But from the demons’ perspective, they’re just a band of relentless killers coming to annihilate them.
How could anyone not flee after seeing this group?
I owe an apology to all the demons I called cowards before.
Wait a minute.
Does this mean the Demon King faced all of them at once?
For a moment, I imagined the Demon King’s perspective:
A blank-faced hero charging straight at him, flanked by a crazed cleric and a sociopathic swordswoman, while a psychotic mage hurled catastrophic spells from the rear.
Hah…
Just imagining it makes my chest tighten.
‘Ah, Demon King, now I understand. How did you endure this?’
I made up my mind.
‘I must never let these people learn my true identity.’
Once again, I resolved myself firmly.