Jon rode through the mountain forest.
The trees grew denser, the sound of hooves surging beneath him, and the great border fortress behind him grew ever more distant.
The howling wind whipped away his sweat, but it couldn’t sweep away the frustration in his heart.
In truth, Jon had always known his teammates had various flaws.
Miss Margaret was spoiled and willful, Miss Yuna was cunning, and Miss Elita played ill-timed pranks.
But even so…they had never done anything as outrageous as today.
A dull ache throbbed in his left chest.
Jon wasn’t stupid.
He hadn’t read many books, but he wasn’t dull or numb either.
The indifference, contempt, and coldness Miss Margaret had shown in this matter—he could feel it.
Is there really such a great difference between commoners and nobles?
Are people truly born unequal?
Jon reached into his breast, touching the damp, still-warm Pupu, as if speaking to himself, or perhaps to a friend who neither existed nor could ever answer.
“Why did they do this?”
Leah curled up in the hero’s arms, still shaken, rubbing against his hand.
【Because they’re playing with you! Idiot!】
After narrowly escaping death, Leah began to realize it too.
Those three goddesses hadn’t targeted her, the Pupu.
They’d used her as a pet to show dominance over the hero.
Though the hero was revered as a “walking god among mortals,” in the eyes of the Kaladia Royal Family, the hero was always just a Vassal of the Empire, one that could be tamed.
For a thousand years, this was how they corrupted and controlled heroes.
Political marriage, alliances, PUA, carrot and stick, honeyed bullets…
A lone hero might have the ambition to change the world, but one who married noble ladies, bore heirs, grew used to luxury and wealth—could do little but waste away in a gilded cage.
Yet the power of the hero was a unique force, closely tied to “conviction.”
The more righteous and bright-hearted one’s belief, the stronger its effect and reserves.
If a hero began to doubt their convictions, succumbing to wealth and power, that power would gradually abandon them—until a new hero awakened among the people.
Since ancient times, even heroes fell at the feet of Beauty.
The honey trap was an important means of corruption.
Thinking of the earlier conversation, Leah secretly mused,
“So, that troublemaking princess is the ‘Beauty’ your generation picked?”
—Then the quality of your generation’s ‘Beauty’ is seriously lacking!
Suddenly, Leah’s heart skipped.
Wait, doesn’t that mean she could exploit the weak professional ethics of this ‘Beauty,’ drive a wedge between the hero and the Empire, and use the hero’s power to clear obstacles on the Magic King’s Road?
Good, good, good!
Life was getting more promising by the day!
Once the hero falls to darkness and pledges allegiance to her, she’d make those filthy bitches who dared smear Egg Yolk Mayonnaise on her pay!
Make them all Nursery Beds!
Every single one must give birth to fifty thousand Pupu before being released!
“You must have been terrified.”
Jon suddenly spoke, shattering Leah’s wild fantasies.
He gently pinched Leah’s soft body, laughing at himself.
“I didn’t think they’d go so far either. Looks like I still don’t understand these ‘comrades’ enough.”
“Honestly, I should have gotten angry earlier. Letting it slide feels cowardly.”
Jon pulled a canteen from the saddle pouch, poured a little out onto Leah, feeding her as he spoke to himself.
“As a Pupu, you must get it, right? When Pupu meet people, their first reaction is to hide. Actually, I’m the same… Before sixteen, I never imagined I’d stand alongside these jewel-bedecked nobles.”
“Seeing them, my instinct was…to feel a little afraid.”
Jon returned the canteen, lowering his gaze to the reins nearly worn through in his hands.
This time, Leah didn’t mock him.
Instead, she listened quietly.
She could understand.
Before crossing over, when she was still a teenager, running into those wealthy, flashy rich kids had left her feeling small and insecure too.
As she met more people and learned more about the world, she gradually overcame this “inferiority.”
Thinking about it, the hero was only eighteen.
How mature could a boy of that age truly be?
With a touch of sympathy from someone who’d been there, Leah turned around and hugged the hero’s trembling hand, rubbing it twice in comfort.
And snuck a strand of magic power while she was at it…
Jon felt the Pupu’s gradually tightening “embrace” around his fingers, and for some reason, warmth bloomed in his heart.
Back at the Pupu farm, the Pupu Farm Owner had told him—unlike the stereotype, Pupu actually had intelligence equivalent to a four or five-year-old child.
It’s just that their needs were minimal, and they were docile and lazy, so they seemed a bit silly.
But after spending time with them, they did express emotions close to those of humans.
Dependence, trust, intimacy…
That’s why many people kept Pupu.
The farm owner had also explained: at their core, Pupu were Water Demon Beasts.
Born from liquids empowered by the Magic Web, their magic was their soul and consciousness.
Thus, the earlier anomaly likely came from his magic power imprint clashing with the Pupu’s soul.
But since it had endured, it meant his Pupu had adapted to the hero’s magic power’s “transformation.”
In other words—its soul had become shaped like the hero’s.
“Then why did it become a girl?”
Jon had voiced his confusion at the time.
“……”
The farm owner suddenly fell silent, his face turning red, looking like he wanted to speak but was too embarrassed.
“Uh.”
After a few seconds, Jon realized.
The subtext was: because he liked cute girls, the hero’s power had transformed the Pupu into a cute girl.
So it was all his fault.
Jon scratched his head.
From then on, he began to feel a real “sense of responsibility” for this strange little creature born because of him.
…
The heart of an eighteen-year-old boy is like a wild horse running free on the grasslands, fiery and energetic, unable to hold sorrow for even half an hour.
Jon rode to Yabibo Village, ravaged by disaster.
After the floods, water had turned the black earth to mud.
A few numb, grey-faced people picked through the ruins for anything usable.
He stopped his horse on the slope, its hooves sinking deep.
Dismounting, Jon led the animal by the reins.
“Elder!”
Jon found the Village Chief overseeing the relief efforts.
“It’s you? Young man? You’re alive? Thank goodness…”
The Village Chief gasped in shock, grabbing Jon’s hand.
“Good child, thank you for before. The Demon World is a dangerous place.”
“Uh.”
Jon scratched his nose, embarrassed.
Before the Battle for the Demon World, their party had rested at the border for a while.
Then came news that the Norda Dam had been blown up, the floodwaters unleashed.
He wanted to ask the Imperial Guard and Holy Army to join him in fighting the flood and rescuing people, but Yuna and Miss Margaret thought it was a Demon King plot to disrupt their rest and forbade any action.
So, in the end, only he, brimming with excess energy, went to help with disaster relief.
Since he hadn’t convinced the main force, he didn’t dare call himself a hero—just claimed to be a regular Soldier bound for the Demon World campaign.
His demeanor matched an ordinary Soldier perfectly.
“Well, the hero’s martial skill is extraordinary. Even Demon King Leah couldn’t withstand a single blow.”
Jon pretended to be an ordinary Soldier, boasting about his exploits, face flushing with pride.
Actually, Demon King Leah was quite formidable.
Their first fight had gone back and forth.
She’d withstood over a hundred of his strikes, then self-destructed into eighteen hundred pieces to escape—a move of astonishing genius.
He’d used all his strength to intercept over seventeen hundred, but a hundred or so got away, allowing the Demon King to flee.
Still, the Demon King was gravely injured, and the second confrontation ended easily.
——Eh? Why was Pupu getting hot again?
Jon recalled what the Pupu Farm Owner had said: Pink Pupu growing hot was a natural reaction before “mating,” meaning they were highly excited.
Hiss…did she particularly enjoy Demon King jokes?
Understood.
He’d have to tell more in the future.
“This generation’s hero is really that strong.”
The Village Chief murmured, worry deepening on his face.
“Yes, Village Chief.”
Jon tried to reassure him.
“This time, the hero is so strong, he’ll definitely help everyone live better lives.”
But the Village Chief just gave a bitter smile.
“In truth, child, you don’t know. In these harsh borderlands, generations of experience have taught us— the easier it is for the hero to defeat the Demon King, the harder the times become.”
“Huh?”
Jon was stunned.
“How come? Isn’t ending the war quickly a good thing?”
“Simple to say. But among all the Kings of the world, which doesn’t covet power? If the demons fall too quickly, His Majesty will think of sending troops to the Northern Region, Eastern Region, even beyond the Western Sea. Fighting demons, at least the Holy Church lends a hand.”
The Village Chief looked world-weary.
“War never ends… In fact, the stronger the hero, the more rewards and titles His Majesty will need to bestow to win him over. That wealth, in the end, weighs down on us.”
Jon lowered his head in thought.
After a long while, he looked up and smiled.
“Elder, don’t worry. This time, it won’t happen.”
“Huh?”
“The hero will persuade His Majesty not to go to war, and ask to exchange his rewards for the well-being of the Southland’s people. This dam will be rebuilt soon, and Grain for Disaster Relief will be distributed quickly, too.”
Jon’s tone brimmed with confidence.
“How can you be so sure?”
The Village Chief wondered.
“That’s a secret. But I just know.”
Jon grinned.