"A Hero?"
The name didn't fit the image I’d formed from the gods' description.
"Your skepticism is well-founded," Lulutia said. "It was essentially a self-proclaimed title."
"So it was just a label he gave himself?"
"He’s the one who spread it, but by the end, so many people were calling him that that we use the name to identify him ourselves," Kufo added. "It’s not like we actually assigned him the role of a Hero, though."
"He went through quite a lot before people started calling him that," Gain began. "I shall tell the story in chronological order to make it easier to follow."
Following Lulutia and Kufo, who both looked thoroughly reluctant to continue, Gain picked up the narrative.
"First, he arrived in this world just before he was set to enter high school, having just graduated from middle school. He had some issues at home, but he was such a bright, energetic boy that he never let it show. He excelled in his studies, was remarkably handsome, and possessed natural leadership qualities. He was deeply trusted by his peers and teachers alike, having served on the disciplinary committee and as student council president throughout his primary and secondary education."
"Based on his background on Earth, he sounds like an incredibly capable kid," I noted.
"He really was," Lulutia insisted. "And he was truly a good person. He wasn't hiding a dark side; he was genuine."
"Maybe it was because he was such a good kid... at the time, wars were breaking out all over," Kufo explained. "At first, we found a guardian for him and sent him to a safe region far from the fighting. But he insisted he wanted to join up with the person who had transferred before him and stop the war together. He ended up becoming a mercenary."
If he had actually thrown himself into the fray, he must have had a certain level of resolve. I wondered if he had received some incredibly potent power when he transferred. Still, he was only a child—barely a high schooler. It sounded reckless, but I suppose it fit the image of a hero.
"We panicked a little back then," Lulutia admitted. "Since we were summoning him into an era of widespread conflict, we prioritized giving him abilities that would help him survive on the battlefield. We never expected him to go looking for a fight on his own."
"What he did with his life was his choice," Gain said. "But since he couldn't visit us like you do, Ryoma-kun, we had no way to speak with him..."
"We could have sent a message through a clergyman capable of receiving an oracle," Kufo added, "but that would have caused a massive stir. In that climate, he might have been treated as a weapon of mass destruction and dragged onto the front lines whether he liked it or not."
"So the boy went to war... but he survived, right?"
Kirilel was the one who answered my question.
"He survived, alright. He was tough. Even so, the battlefield is the kind of place that can drive a seasoned adult soldier mad. No matter how much power he had, he went through hell. At first, he even regretted his lack of resolve. But eventually, he started using his natural charisma and judgment alongside the powers we gave him. He distinguished himself in his mercenary troupe, rose to command a unit, and climbed the ranks smoothly. To be honest, we were actually rooting for the guy back then."
"The problem began afterward," Meltrize said. "After the troupe's leader and executives were killed in battle and he took over as commander, his behavior gradually began to change."
According to Meltrize, the boy’s status as an Otherworlder gave him the power to survive any battlefield, but his companions enjoyed no such luxury. As his troupe gained fame and absorbed other groups, they were deployed to larger and more dangerous battlefields, and his casualties began to mount.
On top of that, he faced the usual human drama: jealousy from veterans over his young age and friction between old and new recruits. Then there were the burdens of a business owner—fundraising, logistics, and long-term planning. Struggling with those while constantly facing death took an immeasurable toll on his mind.
"He certainly suffered for it," Selerepta added, joining in with a thin, mischievous smile. He had seemed uninterested until now. "Apparently, the reason he dabbled in Necromancy and Curse Magic was because he felt the gifts Gain and the others gave him weren't enough."
"The wars meant there were plenty of corpses and people harboring negative emotions back then," the god of water continued. "Whether it was for revenge or survival, everyone was looking for a shortcut to power. Necromancy and Curse Magic were common on the battlefield; finding a practitioner or a manual was easy. Now, here’s a quiz for you: what kind of technique did our self-proclaimed Hero develop using those arts? I'll give you a hint: it’s an ability that pops up all the time in those RPG-style 'reincarnation cheat' stories from Japan. I bet you can figure it out, Ryoma-kun."
"That's a bit sudden," I said.
He probably modeled it after a specific concept to give it form. There are plenty of tropes in reincarnation fiction, so I should look at his objective.
According to the story, he had become the commander. He could survive alone, but his subordinates kept dying. He likely lamented his weakness to the point where even his positive personality couldn't cope.
If I assumed that, what he wanted was power. I didn't know if it was military force or management skill, but when people are pushed to the brink, their vision narrows. They lose the ability to think long-term. If he turned to Curse Magic out of desperation, he wouldn't have been looking for something that took time to master.
He would have wanted immediate results. Something he could use right on the battlefield. And he was using Curse Magic and Necromancy. Curse Magic manipulates negative emotions, while Necromancy handles the dead and the soul... The soul? Ah.
"A technique to steal the abilities of those he killed? Something like absorbing the soul as it leaves the body to make its power his own?"
"Bingo!" Selerepta exclaimed. "To be precise, he wasn't stealing the abilities themselves, but the 'Experience' etched into the soul—everything the person had built up over their life."
"No wonder you all were hesitating to tell me," I remarked. "I suspect I could perform that technique myself if I really wanted to. It only requires Curse Magic and Necromancy. It's not some 'special gift' the gods give to Otherworlders; it's just a combination of existing techniques."
I didn't think Gain and the others viewed me as dangerous, but with the Hero as a precedent, they clearly didn't have fond memories of the art. I could understand why they’d be reluctant to give me information that could lead to such magic, especially since I could handle the fundamentals so easily.
"Based on the technique and the story so far, I can guess the rest," I continued. "He wasn't a hero from a legend; he was like a character in an RPG. Once he started killing enemies to steal their Experience Points, he couldn't stop, could he?"
"I'm glad you caught on to the parts Gain and the others found hard to say," Selerepta chuckled. "Saved us a lot of time."
"So that’s what that smile was for."
"Well, you know your way around reincarnation stories, don't you? Your intuition is sharp, so I figured you'd get there even if we were vague. We don't actually consider you a threat, so there was no point in dragging it out."
"It reminds me of the first time we met," Lulutia said.
"Indeed," Gain added. "The moment I told you that you were dead, you immediately asked if it was a reincarnation or a transfer."
"It certainly helps that you're so quick on the uptake."
While the gods indulged in a moment of nostalgia, Kirilel brought the conversation back to the point.
"It’s just as Ryoma guessed. Between the nature of that magic and the battlefield environment, the Hero grew powerful at an insane rate. You need more than just strength to lead a group, but the stronger he got, the more his men relied on him. It also acted as a deterrent against anyone who wanted to stir up trouble within the ranks. Naturally, soldiers want the strongest person possible on their side to increase their own odds of survival. Besides, the mercenary world is full of thugs who think might makes right. Between that culture and the stress, the guy became obsessed with power. He justified it to himself by saying it was to save his friends, or that he had to kill on the battlefield anyway, or that stealing power was the only way to end the war sooner."
"Seeking self-justification on the battlefield is only human," Meltrize noted. "And it’s a necessary part of leadership. Since he hadn't technically broken any taboos with the spell itself, we wouldn't have abandoned him or spoken so poorly of him if he’d stopped there."
According to the Goddess of Death, the Hero truly crossed the line several years after he began stealing power. It happened when he first saw Masaharu—the Prince who had transferred before him. His troupe had been hired alongside many others, and they ended up on the same battlefield.
The Royal Army and the mercenaries were kept strictly separate. Though the Hero’s troupe had a good record, they were still newcomers. They were relegated to the outskirts of the battle, left to watch from a distance without ever making direct contact. That was when the first crack appeared in the Hero's heart.
When the signal to attack was given, Masaharu unleashed his magic, instantly turning the enemy lines into a sea of fire. Men watched their comrades vanish in a single strike; those who tried to flee found the very ground collapsing beneath them. Only those lucky enough to be on the fringes of the spells survived with minor injuries.
With just two spells, the battle was over. Neither the Kingdom’s Army nor the mercenaries had to draw their swords. They hadn't even taken a single step forward, and yet the enemy had been annihilated. It was a one-sided slaughter that allowed no resistance.
"The total amount of power we gave them both wasn't actually that different," Gain explained. "In fact, the Hero had a bit more raw energy. But one was built for versatility, and the other was specialized for destruction. When it came to wiping out large numbers over a wide area, Masaharu was simply superior. To us, it was just a matter of 'right tool for the job,' but it wasn't so simple for the boy. Seeing someone else effortlessly produce the result he’d been killing for—winning without losing a single ally—shattered his sense of worth."
"It was more than just a setback; he was devastated," Lulutia said. "Because of the gifts we gave him, he had always been the one doing the overwhelming. He had never been on the receiving end of such power."
"That sense of helplessness turned into an inferiority complex," Kirilel added. "He became even more obsessed with 'power' than before. He didn't just kill enemies anymore; he started killing his own subordinates if they broke the rules, claiming it was for the sake of 'official discipline' so he could steal their experience too."
The Hero had fallen into darkness. Or perhaps he had fallen the moment he started stealing from the dead? Either way, murdering his own allies was a whole new level of depravity.
As I stood there, speechless, Kufo spoke up with an apologetic tone.
"Ryoma-kun... unfortunately, this is where the 'preface' finally ends."