I Became the Hero Who Banished the Protagonist

Faith.

Andrei Jarvin is a fanatic. Or maybe he’s just pretending to be. Most people who kill in the name of God are. Andrei was born an Inquisitor. He was raised to be an emotionless machine. Time has taught him the theory of emotion, but it has not led him to feel anything but reverence for God.

Kill. He didn’t even question it. No remorse. God was real, and so were those who carried on the will of the Light, so killing those who opposed it would also be an act of righting the world and enveloping it in light, or at least the Bishop thought. He would even sacrifice himself for the Holy Land.

“Our Father who art in heaven.”

No skepticism. No doubts. No roots of faith. There was only hunger. But now? Andrei recited the prayer in the pale, slipping sunlight.

“Forgive us our sins.”

The light before the cross wavered.

“And lead us not into temptation.”

The window shook again in the breeze.

“But deliver us from evil.”

Silence fell. The incense on the altar snapped, cracked, and fell into its urn. Andrei rose from his seat. Winter was near. A chill filled the church. The aisle felt unusually long. He opened the church doors. A statue of God was waiting from beyond it. He always felt like he was facing the Last Judge as he stared into its eyes.

“Let’s go, Bishop.”

Andrei nodded. But he could not look away from those eyes.

***

The elevator began its slow descent, the chains rattling. The torches glowed an oddly bright red. They were probably lanterns embedded with magic stones. The guards walked along the railing, peering into the cages as they formed the imposing atmosphere of the prison.

“Is this your first visit to a prison?”

The warden asked. I frowned slightly at their scrawny arm as it lightly tapped a baton against his side.

“Yes. Did you expect me to have been here before?”

“…I know you were an adventurer before you became the Hero.”

It was not uncommon for adventurers to be in and out of prison. It’s assumed that any who has made a name for themselves has spent some time behind bars. The warden turned to me. Of course, it wasn’t contempt but the smugness of knowing you talked with a celebrity.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten into too many high-profile accidents, and Elroy the Adventurer wasn’t a household name.”

“Hehehe, just saying. It’s not uncommon for adventurers to come here for petty stuff. Get into a big brawl in a tavern and get arrested, that sort of thing.”

The chains were descending; the prison seemed endlessly deep. The number of rooms was noticeably shrinking. The inmates were sparse, their outlines only visible, slowly waddling to somewhere.

“The further down we go, the worse they are. Most of them are just waiting for their execution date. The worst of them are already dead. I wouldn’t worry too much about them, though, because a whole bunch of them are just a shell of themselves.”

The warden sneered at the walking flesh. Up close, it was a man of some skill. Lanky, with sunken eyes and cheeks. A detailed face. He wore a black uniform and a club at his waist. He could be a Templar.

“How are you feeling, Bishop? He’s not exactly new to this place.”

Andrei, standing beside me, nodded with a smile.

“Our prisons are much smaller, as we often dealt with executions, and if you take those people out of the equation, a few are incarcerated. Still, this atmosphere is quite familiar.”

He then closed his eyes.

“I guess it’s missing all the screams and cries.”

The warden chuckled.

“We just have better soundproofing.”

The elevator’s descent was getting slower and slower. There were fewer and fewer rooms, and then we finally arrived at the bottom of the prison. The guards waiting on the floor approached, saluting the warden. He acknowledged their salute with a single wave, and the guards led us by the light of red torches.

“By the way, I’m impressed that you’re willing to interrogate the mercenary face-to-face. I’ve heard that he was captured by you alone.”

Walking down the hall, the warden continued talking.

“He’s probably the strongest prisoner we’ve ever had in this prison, and he committed the most heinous crime in the least amount of time. I’m ashamed to say it, but I couldn’t even look him in the eye.”

The warden’s mouth curled into a lethargic grin. His hand, with the truncheon drawn, tapped, tapped, tapped, tapped on the empty cell’s grate. The sound of it colliding against the bars was a rallying cry and a warning to the inmates not to mess around.

“Maybe you’re the only one who can face him.”

Eventually, we reached the deepest part of the prison. At the end of the corridor, a grate that must have been three meters high seemed larger than the Giant. The warden looked at the bars and let out a low laugh.

“Do you know the last time this cell was opened before this?”

The cell was not locked with a key. The two guards took the long sticks from their arms, one by one, and walked to each end of the door. The warden watched them and smirked.

“It’s been sixty years, and this door has never been opened for a visitor.”

Two guards picked up sticks and looked at the warden, who nodded. They simultaneously pushed the metal into the hole in the wall. The door didn’t open, and the wall cracked, revealing a steel plate. The warden removed his gloves and approached the plate, placing his hand on it.

“It’s magic detection. It only accepts the magic of the ‘living’ warden to open the door.”

“…And what happens when you die?”

“Authority is automatically transferred to the Queen. No one else can open this cell until she appoints the next warden.”

There was no way for Arjen to escape. The door creaked open. The warden put his gloves back on and walked toward the open cage. The guards shone their torches inside. The red glow seemed no more helpful than the moon in the night sky.

Only the five men’s footsteps could be heard, and then Arjen’s voice broke the silence.

“…Elroy.”

I used a bit of mana and looked ahead. Arjen was sitting at a small table with a gaunt figure that could hardly be called healthy. He was visibly pale and wore a large patch over his eye. Probably not just to block his vision. It may be to block magic or to disrupt it.

“Funny, I never thought I’d have to face you like this.”

“What do you propose to do, Hero?”

The warden asked from beside me. I rolled my eyes and sighed deeply.

“I beg your pardon, sir, but I must ask you to leave the room with the two guards, for I would like a moment of solitude.”

“In that case, we’ll give you a room; we have one we use for private interrogations.”

“I hope you won’t be eavesdropping.”

The warden let out a small laugh at my comment.

“I’m a man who knows that life is precious. I have no intention of doubting you or getting involved in this interrogation, so I’d like you to use your time as well as you can, to your heart’s content.”

The warden nodded toward Arjen, and a group of guards approached him, looking nervous at the warden’s orders, and placed restraints on his arms. Arjen meekly accepted them and rose from his seat. Without his right arm, he was left with his left arm tied tightly to his body.

“Ah, the Bishop’s here, too. Long time no see.”

Arjen casually turned to Andrei and greeted him. He returned Arjen’s greeting with a pained expression.

“Have you been eating? I see you’ve lost a lot of weight.”

“If your goal was to make fun of me, you succeeded, Bishop. How can food in a place like this be good?”

The door to the interrogation room opened. A lamp brightly lighted the room. The warden stood in the doorway, his eyes asking what to do.

“Remove the blindfold and leave, and I’ll be responsible for what happens next.”

“Will you?”

Without a word, the warden removed Arjen’s blindfold. His cloudy, black eyes were revealed. His pupils constricted at the brief glimpse of light, only to return to normal after blinking repeatedly.

“Well, we’ll wait outside. Take your time.”

The warden closed the door to the interrogation room and left. I, Arjen, and the Bishop sat at the desk and faced each other. Their eyes spoke volumes. At least for me, they did.

“I never thought I’d see you here.”

Arjen said to Andrei.

“I suppose there are things you want to know.”

“You suddenly appeared out of nowhere after parting with us.”

“Where is the law that says I can’t wander? Only God would be able to stop that.”

Andrei let out a low laugh. His wavering emotional state seemed to have subsided.

“Then why did you take that attack for me?”

It was the one question that had been on his mind.

“I tried to come up with my own answer, but… I’ve prayed and asked for answers, but I can’t develop anything that makes sense.”

“Why did you do it?”

Arjen listened to his question expressionlessly but intently and then fell silent. Perhaps he was organizing his own thoughts.

“It was not a wise thing to do, I must admit that.”

Arjen trailed off.

“I cannot logically explain why I acted as I did, but I can tell you one thing, Bishop: if you had been attacked, you would be sitting here in restraints.”

As Andrei stared at him silently, Arjen raised one corner of his mouth and smiled.

“There’s nothing to overthink. I did what I thought I had to do. If you want to think it was God’s will, so be it. If you want to think it was my mistake and blame it all on me, so be it.”

“So you accept your current situation, even though it wasn’t your will?”

“Because those who died in Bactin’s and the Kraken’s Landing did not die of their own volition.”

Arjen shrugged.

“Consider what you’ve been given as an opportunity, and while it’s fine to ask me and be troubled by it, consider what you’ve been given to do by being able to stand again. I’m not your teacher, so don’t expect to learn anything from me.”

“…I know that, but that’s easier said than done.”

Andrei replied, his voice still flat.

“Do you want me to blame you and tell you this is all because you didn’t dodge the attack? I didn’t think you were such a pathetic human being.”

“Perhaps that would have made me feel better.”

Andrei laughed bitterly, but Arjen’s expression did not change.

“Then continue to ponder and question. Why I would have made that choice in that moment, why you are standing there, unharmed, and I am here, waiting to die.”

Arjen leaned back in his chair.

“I won’t give you an answer to make you feel better. That’s for you to ponder, not me. Don’t even think about finding a comfortable answer. I mean, a priest holding a bloodied knife over a corpse isn’t comfortable either.”

Arjen jerked his chin, and Andrei’s laugh changed from bitter to amused.

“It’s so unlike you to be smug under the circumstances.”

“It’s better than being uncharacteristically pompous.”

Arjen ended the conversation altogether, and Andrei’s expression changed to his usual masked, benevolent smile as if he had gotten his answer. Arjen glanced at him, clicked his tongue, and turned to me.

“…I see. You’re really here to interrogate me.”

Do you have anything else to tell me?

“Well… I wouldn’t say there is.”

Arjen glanced toward the Bishop.

“Not that I want anyone else to hear, anyway.”

Andrei looked at the two of us distantly, then rose from his seat as if he had no choice. The door opened, the sound of conversation followed, and then the door slammed shut as he disappeared. Arjen stared sharply at the closed door momentarily before turning back to me.

“…So, where do I begin?”

Arjen shuffled his feet and met my eyes. I thought I knew what to ask now. I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve.

“The other you.”

Arjen’s eyes widened as if he hadn’t expected me to speak first.

“Tell me everything you felt about that entity.”

If it could exist beyond time and space, then maybe I could do the same. If he knew anything,

Maybe it could help rescue the Holy Sword.

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