Chapter 72: Heaven is Dead

All things were still.

A splash, like a fish leaping, froze mid-air, then was scattered by an iron boot.

Jon lifted the middle-aged man with a round open mouth and terrified eyes from the reef, casually casting a healing spell to mend the internal injuries from the impact.

Though not highly proficient, it was barely enough.

One minute and seven seconds.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a group of children about to be swept away.

Jon walked steadily over the water, step by step, carrying the children to higher ground.

Seeing the exaggerated, twisted expression on one child’s face, Jon couldn’t help but chuckle.

But remembering the corpse he’d seen earlier, the smile slowly faded.

Two minutes and forty seconds.

The ashen moon was frozen in the sky.

Clouds stood motionless.

Raindrops hung everywhere, suspended in the air, densely scattered by the weight of heavy armor.

It felt as if cries for help echoed from everywhere, and as if death lingered in every corner.

He was like a moth exhausting itself, or like Sisyphus unable to push the stone up the hill.

There were moments when he wanted to give up—but only moments.

His eyes fell on the bodies washed down from upstream, and his heart ached.

There was no reason.

It just hurt.

Five minutes and sixteen seconds.

The omnipotent Hero’s breath grew ragged.

His unwavering steps began to falter and slow.

A certain fatigue and heartache crawled into Jon’s skull.

He even began to feel suffocated.

It was a warning from his body.

By rights, he should have stopped.

But he desired power too much.

He hated his own weakness and impotence.

Is there a limit beyond the limit?

Such a reckless, almost insane thought.

Yet he wanted to try, even if only to soothe his uneasy conscience.

He wanted to try.

White steam rose from the gaps in his armor.

The surge of magic even dispersed the black clouds above.

Clear moonlight poured down.

It illuminated the iron figure who refused to admit defeat.

Six minutes…

Seven minutes…

He finally pushed his own limits higher again.

The price was that after saving the last refugees, when he stepped back onto the river, his head spun.

The magic failed, and he plunged into the flood.

But this wasn’t really a problem.

The armor was enchanted with many spells, including [Underwater Breathing].

Dragged down by the heavy armor, he simply lay at the bottom, deciding to rest for a moment.

However…

He’d just sunk a few seconds when, with a ‘splash’, a graceful, beautiful girl—swift as a fish—dived into the water and swam towards him.

Jon stared blankly at the girl.

Her mist-blue hair drifted in the water, and her light blue eyes were as resolute as the Hero’s.

The rushing current parted around her, as if she were the true master of water.

Jon guessed she must be a highly skilled water-element mage.

But… why would a water mage dive in suddenly in this weather? For a swim?

While he was in a daze, the girl swam to Jon, staring at his iron-can look.

She hesitated for a moment, then gritted her teeth, grabbed his armored arm, and struggled to drag him to the surface.

‘???’

Jon finally realized something.

He slowly opened his mouth.

I-I-I—am being rescued???

Before he could explain, the girl had dragged him ashore.

A crowd surrounded them—refugees, shirtless, busy, their morale nearly matching that of Hope Town.

Sturdier men took breaks, then dove back in to rescue others.

Ragged women bustled about, performing simple first aid on those brought up.

The blue-haired girl heaved Jon up, tossed him onto the shore, brushed back her hair, and muttered,

“So heavy! What kind of idiot wears armor into the water? Did you want to drink yourself full? Hurry up, someone strong, take his armor off and squeeze the water from his belly.”

Hearing this, Jon hurriedly sat up, lifted his visor, and revealed his face to explain:

“Um… No need. I didn’t fall in. I was just resting at the bottom for a while…”

As he spoke, the atmosphere suddenly changed.

Tension crackled.

Burly men closed in, faces grim, wielding sickles, clubs, all sorts of makeshift weapons.

In the water, the blue-haired girl’s face turned cold, magic gathering quietly in her hand, ready to strike.

“[Underwater Breathing] spell, enchanted armor,” the girl spoke, her voice icy, “…Are you a noble?”

Jon froze.

“Why is this happening all of a sudden?” he asked, confused.

The girl leapt ashore.

She stood, a shimmering water blade forming in her hand.

Her reflection shone in the iron armor—her graceful curves, and the cold light in her eyes.

“Why?”

“Everything today is thanks to you Empire nobles.”

She approached Jon, blade in hand, her words bleeding with pain.

“You nobles monopolize magic, hoard all the magic resources.”

“You use so-called ‘fair’ and hypocritical ‘rules’ to take our hard-earned fruits, forcing us to die, forcing us to sell ourselves, forcing us to be your slaves for life…”

“You take everything, greedy beyond measure, and don’t care if we live or die.”

“You are the undead evil dragons of this land!”

“Look above you! That’s not rain—it’s the tears of the Dustfolk! That’s not thunder—it’s their cries and pleas! Only by killing all you nobles can we calm the fury of the billions of wronged souls!”

“Tell me—don’t you deserve to die?”

Suddenly, she tore off Jon’s helmet, raised the water blade high.

Before Jon could defend himself, the blade flashed down toward his neck!

“Clang~~”

Something awkward happened.

The blade struck Jon’s neck with a crisp metallic ring, numbing the girl’s wrist.

The water blade slipped from her grip, dissolving back into liquid.

Girl: “……”

Crowd: “……”

“Now do I have the right to explain?”

Jon stood up helplessly, twisted his neck, picked up the fallen helmet, and placed it back on his head.

“My name is Jon, Hero of the Empire. I’m not a noble.”

He swept his gaze over the crowd, finally stopping on the blue-haired girl whose face was hard to read.

“I’m also a Dustfolk.”

Jon emphasized.

“Rumble…”

Rolling thunder split the sky.

It lit up the stunned face of the blue-haired girl.

And it lit up the arched windows of Hope Town.

Inside the tent, Jonathan suddenly woke, rubbing his eyes.

Someone had thrown a Mascot Girl in, hitting him square in the face…

Who was the little brat playing pranks in the middle of the night?

He struggled to his feet and started to head outside, only to trip over something.

Jonathan looked down.

It was a wooden plank.

Seeing the familiar handwriting on it, Jonathan’s face grew solemn.

He picked it up, skimmed it, then carefully read it word by word.

After reading, he sighed.

“As a ‘teacher’, I really am useless, huh.”

Jonathan laughed bitterly.

But fortunately, besides himself, the Hero still had many people quietly supporting him.

That stubborn, stubborn kid…wasn’t alone.

After a short rest, Jonathan grabbed his cane and called for his two sons and the cleverest young man from the secretary’s office.

“Listen up, we’re going to help Big Brother Jon. Everyone’s task is important.”

He instructed seriously.

“Me?”

Roy pointed at himself in confusion.

“Third son.”

Jonathan said sternly.

“You go to the City Lord’s Mansion, find Lord Kobilio, commander of the Imperial Guard. When you see him, say just one thing.”

“What?”

Roy scratched his head nervously.

“The Hero sent you to kidnap him.”

Jonathan said word by word.

“Ah? Me?!”

Roy nearly jumped on the spot.

Isn’t that too much?

Jonathan sighed.

“You don’t really have to kidnap him… Just saying it is enough. If he hesitates, tell him, ‘You are the Hero’s most respected senior in the army. Jon has been waiting for you.'”

“Oh…”

Roy nodded, half-understanding.

He wasn’t smart, but he was obedient.

Repeating a few lines wasn’t a problem.

“Second son.”

Jonathan looked at Loch.

Loch looked back eagerly.

“You…go find Yuna the Saintess. Tell her the Hero sent a message: If the Holy Army isn’t present at dawn, then all the blame for the Thousand Rivers Domain will fall on you, the Saintess, and your Uncle Robert.”

“Everyone saved in the Thousand Rivers Domain will curse the Light Saintess and the Light Goddess as two-faced, black-hearted bastards, and turn it into a prayer, chanting it two hundred times a day until your goddess gets so annoyed she descends in fury.”

Even Loch, bold as he was, froze at this.

After a long pause, he smiled awkwardly.

“Dad… Isn’t that blasphemy?”

“No problem. Jon’s not afraid.”

Jonathan replied slowly.

“If the Light Goddess has guts, she can come down and fight Jon. If not, just endure it.”

“What about me! What about me?!”

The young secretary was eager, itching to do something big.

“Oh, your task is simple. Go to the City Guard camp, find the vice-captains, and tell them City Lord Rossi has confessed. All the corruption ledgers are now in the Hero’s hands. But the Hero is willing to forgive you and give you a chance to redeem yourselves.”

“Reorganize tonight. Report to the Hero tomorrow. If anyone doesn’t give him face and isn’t there, don’t blame the Hero for being merciless.”

“Hey! I knew following Big Brother Jon was fun! I picked the right person!”

The young secretary grinned.

To be entrusted with such an exciting task—much better than gossiping with the old ladies at the village head.

The three young men accepted their tasks and left, climbing into the mule cart, preparing to enter the city despite the rain.

After that, Jonathan, as instructed in the letter, went to find the ‘mascot’ of Hope Town, the beloved Mascot Girl mentioned by the townspeople.

“Lily?”

Jonathan soon found Lia.

He approached, hunched and smiling kindly.

“Ah! It’s Grandpa Mayor!”

Lia acted surprised.

Though she’d called Jonathan here herself, she played dumb.

Sure enough, Jonathan began to ask as instructed.

“Lily.”

“These Mascots…can they be used as boats?”