Chapter 14: “In a World Like This” Part 5

The war was over.

It was the seventh year since the Demon King had begun his full-scale activities and the fifth year since the Hero Party had been formed—although in reality, it was a few days longer than five years.

Thousands of years had passed since the elves began recording history.

Within that grand timeline, the “Demon” had risen multiple times to trample the world.

Humanity and the elves only avoided complete extinction before the Goddess intervened because of sheer luck.

In the long history of wars, this Demon’s active period was recorded as the shortest.

The damage inflicted by the Demon was by no means insignificant.

Several human cities were wiped off the map, and parts of the World Tree’s roots rotted.

The death toll caused by the Demon’s forces was still being calculated.

The conscription of countless young people during the war had left a significant gap in the kingdom’s workforce.

Just reducing the bloated military forces required enormous administrative effort.

However, even with such severe damage, it was one of the mildest calamities in history.

The kingdom had not completely collapsed, nor had its dynasty changed.

There was just enough labor force left to keep the state barely functioning.

Although some small cities had fallen, humanity was regrouping around major cities with larger populations.

The Church predicted that most of the kingdom’s tainted lands could be restored within ten years.

Of course, this would require relentless effort from the clergy, but there was no other choice if humanity was to survive.

Moreover, the Church hadn’t lost the Saintess during this battle.

The very idea that such vast lands could be reclaimed in just ten years was thanks to her holy power.

The kingdom estimated that even with a reduced military, its overall strength would not significantly decline.

The knights who survived the endless battles were invaluable assets.

Even if remnants of the Demon King’s army or rogue monsters still roamed, the hardened veterans who survived the war gave the kingdom a hopeful outlook.

Furthermore, the Knight Commander, Kalia, was still alive.

The injuries he sustained in the final battle were completely healed by the Holy Sword left behind by the Hero.

Kalia’s charisma and achievements would greatly help prevent the kingdom’s forces from disbanding.

Ironically, the Tower of Magic experienced remarkable progress during the war.

With the kingdom’s support, countless theories that had existed only on paper were tested in reality.

These experiments were implemented on the battlefield, allowing their actual effects to be observed.

Dana, the Tower’s master and an unparalleled genius magician, developed new theories based on these experiences.

Although her work wasn’t fully completed in time for this war, the records she laid out to combat the Demon King would continue to be studied as humanity’s hope.

There was even an optimistic prediction that the next time the Demon King appeared, he might be suppressed in less than a year.

The elves would prosper once again.

Thanks to the Hero’s sacrifice, Arna didn’t have to use the power the elves had gathered.

That power was returned to the World Tree, enabling its rotted roots to regrow and purify the tainted soil where the Demon had spread its corruption.

Of course, the world wasn’t perfect.

Whether human or elf, they would continue to clash and live in conflict, even without the Demon.

They would envy, hate, fail to understand one another, and keep fighting.

But—

Arna lifted her head.

The royal capital.

At long last, the horrifying moment had ended, and the world had reclaimed its peace.

With news of their victory, the troops who had been deployed to the battlefield were returning to the capital.

Cheers echoed in her ears.

Laughter, chattering voices, and someone whistling.

Flower petals rained down, carried by the wind.

People standing on the second and third floors of buildings were showering them with colorful petals.

“Welcome home! Welcome back, heroes!”

“Thank you for coming back alive!”

Hearing someone sobbing, Arna turned around to see a knight at least two heads taller than her weeping.

He was trying his best to hold back tears as he watched the scattering petals.

The knight walking beside him patted his back.

A clanging sound of metal echoed.

These were the faces of those who had finally returned home.

Expressions of people who had risked their lives, completed everything, and come back.

They had lost much as well.

Some had lost comrades during battles, while others found their villages annihilated during their conscription.

All those experiences would leave scars—lifelong wounds that might never heal.

Just as they had for Arna.

But for now.

In this moment, they were forgetting all of that and celebrating.

Rejoicing in the fact that they no longer had to endure those dreadful battlefields.

In the knowledge that they could finally return to their warm homes.

“Long live the Hero Party!”

Somewhere, someone shouted those words.

“Thank you! Thank you!”

Someone else cried out with gratitude.

The Hero Party.

The group that roamed the most dangerous parts of the battlefield, fighting the fiercest battles.

Yet now, there was no longer a Hero among the Hero Party.

In this kind of world, wouldn’t it be nice if people could help each other?

Yes, he had truly lived by those words.

He sought no honor, simply helping others for their sake.

Just a kind, kind person who wanted to help during such hard times.

“…This world.”

The “world” he spoke of must have meant the difficult, harsh reality.

Thanks to his efforts, the world had become a slightly better place.

Though the darkest aspects of humans and elves remained unchanged, at least people were no longer trapped in perpetual suffering.

At the very least,

In those fleeting moments when envy and hatred subsided,

In those rare times when people understood and worked together, without fighting—

There would be laughter and songs of joy echoing through the air.

Sometimes, people will hold hands, embrace, and even love one another.

Because a space has been created where such things are possible.

“This world… it’s because of you.”

But that hero was no longer here.

The Holy Sword was now in Pia’s hands.

Standing at the forefront of the procession, representing all of humanity, she did not smile for even a single moment.

She simply walked silently, holding the Holy Sword reverently with both hands.

“…Since the world has become like this, you should’ve been here.”

You, more than anyone, deserved to see this world.

Arna wiped her eyes roughly.

Yes, it was a good day.

A day to be celebrated and remembered forever.

At least for this moment, shouldn’t they smile?

She had heard there would be time to mourn the dead later, at night.

Grieving could wait until then.

Someone tapped Arna on the shoulder.

When she turned, it was Kalia.

He smiled warmly at her and pointed toward a distant place.

The royal palace.

At the highest point of the palace, where the king usually stood, many people had gathered today—not just the king.

Among them were elves.

The elders of the Elder Council, who rarely left the Holy City, were there.

Their gazes met Arna’s.

They smiled gently and bowed deeply to her.

“Good for you,” Kalia said with a laugh.

For a moment, Arna didn’t understand what he meant.

Then, after a brief pause, she remembered.

She recalled the arrogant declaration she had made when she first joined this party.

She had said, “I haven’t come just to assist; I’ve come to become a hero and leave my name in history.”

Looking at Kalia’s reaction now, it wasn’t mockery.

Rather, he seemed genuinely happy for her.

Although they had clashed so much in the beginning, an unbreakable bond of friendship had formed between Kalia, who always shielded Arna from harm, and Arna, who steadfastly supported him from behind.

“…Yeah.”

Arna smiled.

She hoped her expression looked like a smile.

But five years was not a short time for Kalia.

It was long enough for him to recognize what kind of expression a comrade was wearing.

Kalia’s smile quickly faded as he looked at Arna.

He patted her shoulder a couple of times and then let his arm drop limply.

He was apologizing.

He had said those words to comfort her somehow.

But Arna, who had lived much longer than Kalia, couldn’t even accept that small gesture.

Kalia must have been grieving too.

Dana’s expression was hidden beneath the large brim of her pointed hat.

At the very back of the procession, she followed silently, saying nothing.

As they drew closer to the royal palace, the cheers grew louder.

Surely, a grand welcome ceremony awaited them inside.

Hopefully, by then, she could smile more naturally than she could now.

Arna hoped so.