The room was dim, the only warmth on this cold, rainy night coming from the flickering candlelight, illuminating two silent faces.
The air was thick as amber; even the dust hung suspended, listening to the steady drip of rain outside the window.
Jon suddenly realized that growing up was a process of constantly discovering one’s own helplessness.
When he was twelve, he carried the old bow Uncle Barn gave him and ran wild over the mountains, afraid of nothing, daring to chase any small animal he saw.
At sixteen, he awakened as a Hero and entered the military camp, surrounded by endless training tasks.
That was the first time he realized there were so many things in the world he couldn’t do.
Life in the military was hard, but every day he was happy and full of hope, because he could finally be someone useful to society.
Back then, he truly felt like a spirited youth, confident and invincible.
Later, he became an adult and set foot on the battlefield.
That was the first real hurdle he faced—real war, real slaughter.
Every order he gave could send comrades who drank with him yesterday charging to their deaths.
Every mistake meant real lives lost.
He began to understand his own foolishness, weakness, and carelessness.
Fortunately, he overcame it, because he was always supported by a belief—to defeat the Demon Race and restore the world to peace.
Everything he did was for justice, and any sacrifice was not in vain.
He was not a bloodthirsty butcher.
He was the Hero who represented justice for humanity.
But now, Jon felt a deeper, more overwhelming sense of helplessness.
It was a cruel predicament that denied all his former beliefs, a burning grief that threatened to destroy him.
——If becoming a Hero couldn’t save those trapped in the mire, couldn’t bring happiness to everyone—
——Then for whom did I acquire this power?
“Jon.”
Jonathan spoke hoarsely.
Managing the town’s affairs these days had exhausted the not-so-clever old man.
“I’ll have each household send a young person to help you.
Right now, they all admire you, and morale is high.”
Jon shook his head.
“No, Teacher.
The flood is too fierce.
Morale alone isn’t enough.
Without military training, they can’t even row a boat—it’s sending them to their deaths.”
——That’s why he never considered “having refugees save other refugees.”
Refugees were already starving and weak.
Continuous rain would quickly sap their already dwindling strength and warmth.
Against the raging flood, unless they had been strong swimmers since childhood, sending ordinary refugees into the water was as good as sending them to die.
It was little different from forcing people into the river for a massacre.
In Tulip Territory, disaster relief was always handled by Elite Soldiers.
Only Elite Soldiers with strong bodies and military training could take on such tasks.
“What should we do, then?”
Jonathan sighed.
Of all hardships, asking for help was the hardest.
Perhaps Jon could break the rules and use force to threaten people.
But that would also drain his future credibility and influence—a tactic only to be used in absolute desperation.
Unless Jon intended to use his personal strength to become an unquestionable “tyrant,” ready at any moment for bloody suppression of the whole world, he had to be cautious in using violence.
Besides…Jonathan knew Jon would never do such a thing.
To him, refugees were people, the Imperial Guard were people, and the Holy Army were people too.
He would never use force to oppress any side for the benefit of another.
Otherwise, why would he insist on helping the refugees?
Why not just side with the stronger, more privileged nobles from the start?
“Forget it, I’ll go myself.”
Jon rubbed his nose and gave a bitter laugh.
“I’ll think of something.
Actually, in the Demon King’s Castle, I learned a powerful technique from the Demon King Ria.
It’s just hard to maintain for long…”
He bowed his head in thought.
“I could originally last only five or six minutes.I’ll try to push my limits.If I can stretch five or six minutes into five or six hours, even five or six days…if I can really last that long, maybe I can save everyone.”
“Don’t burn yourself to ashes.”
Jonathan glared.
Even without knowing magic, anyone could guess that powerful spells come with a price.
Otherwise, why wouldn’t the Demon King Ria use such a strong magic all the time?
“I know, I’ll be careful.”
Jon replied offhandedly.
He slung the Holy Sword over his back and was about to leave, when he saw Lia sneaking by the door.
“Hey! Lili! What are you up to?”
He grinned.
In a heavy, oppressive life, everyone needs something to relax, to catch a moment’s breath.
For Jon, the thing that soothed his nerves was “Lili”—the cute little creature he kept.
“Uhh…”
Lia squeaked in surprise at the Hero’s gentle call.
She quickly flipped the wooden board upside down on the floor and plopped down on it.
“Uwaah, Lili’s here, Lili’s practicing writing!”
She lied guiltily.
Jon crouched down and ruffled Lia’s small head.
He spoke softly.
“A friend is about to do something really difficult, Lili.
Do you want to come along and keep your friend company?”
“Uhh, maybe not?
Lili wants to practice writing…”
Lia’s gaze darted away.
“All right, then.”
Jon showed a faint, almost unnoticeable disappointment.
But then he thought, the flood zone wasn’t safe.
If he lost Lili there by accident, he’d have nowhere to cry.
Jon casually pulled out a High-Purity Magic Amethyst from his pocket—the very same one Kobilio had saved as his dowry—and handed it to Lia.
“Here, play with this.
Just don’t lose it.
It’s expensive and can be sold for a lot of gold coins.”
Lia took it in confusion.
The moment her hand touched it, she shivered all over.
What the heck!
A High-Purity Magic Amethyst?
Where did he get this?
This guy’s loaded!
To put it mildly, this one Magic Amethyst could buy Lia an entire Demon King’s treasury.
[No, wait…maybe even more.This thing isn’t that cheap…]
Suddenly, Lia blushed slightly.
Imperial high-level transactions often involved thousands or tens of thousands of gold coins.
Of course, it was impossible for servants to carry around sacks of coins.
That wasn’t elegant or upper-class at all.
So High-Purity Magic Amethysts mined from magic stone mines naturally took their place.
Not just for transactions—among the Empire’s noble girls, accessories made from this kind of Magic Amethyst were considered “ultra-luxurious.”
A piece with such perfect clarity, brilliant luster, and dragon-veined patterns inside could fetch at least a hundred thousand gold coins, and even then, might not be for sale.
If gifted to a noble girl or made into a pair of wedding rings, it would shine at the ceremony…and the recipient might faint from happiness on the spot.
Although Lia was no “noble girl,” she still couldn’t help feeling thrilled.
She played with it happily, unable to let it go.
Seeing his little Lili so delighted, Jon smiled with satisfaction.
He rubbed her pink hair a couple more times, savoring its smooth, silky texture.
Then he stood up, ready to head out again.
“Friend!”
As Jon, armored from head to toe, rode out, a sweet, lovely voice suddenly called from behind.
He turned back in surprise.
His brown eyes deepened.
Gentle moonlight shone on “Lili’s” petite form, making her glow.
The darkness blurred her skin, her features, even her size.
In the pouring rain, she looked like a real human girl, or perhaps a wife unwilling to see her husband off to war.
“Good luck, friend!”
Lia smiled playfully.
“Don’t be afraid of failure!
Lili will always stand behind you, supporting you!”
Jon said nothing.
He simply waved at her from afar, making the military’s “wait for my triumphant return” gesture.
Armored, he looked even more imposing, radiating a sharp, unyielding charisma.
Even Lia had to admit,
“This kid is just a little bit more handsome than this king.”
The sound of hoofbeats faded into the distance.
Lia reluctantly withdrew her gaze.
She picked up the half-written wooden board beneath her.
Rainwater had smudged the writing, and she gritted her teeth in frustration.
“Damn! I have to write it all over again!”
Picking up the charred fragment from the ground, the little “popo” of the Hero’s household began diligently writing once more.
Rain soaked her floral dress.
Delicate as a poem.