WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

Is It Bad That the Main Character’s a Roleplayer?

[Translator – Aren]

◈ Chapter 301 Proof (6)

Before the cliff where a mass of Demonic Energy had climbed, the Hero offered a small prayer.

"O Lord.”

Due honor to those who sacrifice themselves. Courage befitting those who refuse to give up. Clear hope to those who seek salvation. Proof that devotion has value.

"If that cannot be done…”

...Yet God had said good is something that must be done simply because it is good.

Virtue cannot expect a reward. Just as the cycle of nature isn’t something worthy of praise, and growing old with the passage of time isn’t something deserving of reward, goodness is something that should occur naturally, not an act performed in expectation of something in return.

"Then, I pray You be even more harsh.”

Therefore, goodness was cruel.

"Test us more harshly than anyone else.”

Humans were creatures that desired something in return, yet goodness offered no reward. In that sense, it was the stingiest thing of all.

"So that I may be used solely as a weapon.”

And yet, even so, she had to pursue it. Though goodness lay in a realm beyond humanity’s reach, though a heart unrewarded might be shattered and her entire body be crushed beneath devotion without compensation, she still had to do so.

"Let me be used as a weapon that neither thinks nor decides for itself.”

Because she was the ‘Hero,’ that was simply what she ought to do.

"Then I shall arm myself with such firmness and faith that no inner demon may ever invade.”

But she was also a person who was both ‘Hero’ and mortal.

"As a weapon rather than a person, I shall carry out Your will forever.”

The half-formed thing that could be neither a person nor Hero prayed atop the heart buried beneath the grave.

May God roll her forward as one of the inevitable wheels of fate. May He arrange things so that she could trace an unwavering path.

Let this flesh tear and these bones be ground away, if only the future would prove that a mortal’s doubts were meaningless and that within Your omniscience lay a greater purpose.

"Therefore, O Lord.”

If that happened.

If she were granted the certainty that simply believing and following would resolve everything.

"I send my prayer to You."

She could sit amid dust and ashes and await the burnt offering. Even if commanded to climb onto the altar herself, cut open her chest, and tear out her heart, she could obey.

"Please allow me to exist as the Hero."

For it was a person who suffered from sacrifice, not a Hero. So she could do it.

Booooom!

The mace, filled to the brim with divine power, smashed the cliff apart.

* * *

"For the—”

I swallowed the curse that burst out before I knew it and moved my body. I did so by kicking off the collapsing fragments of the cliff as I jumped.

Of course, it wasn’t easy. Having exhausted my Arcane Power was one thing, but more importantly, I had already relaxed all the tension in my body after finishing the climb.

Of course, who could possibly have predicted that the Inquisitor would do something like this? I had expected her to either give up and leave or climb the cliff. I never imagined she would actually destroy the cliff itself!

[That insane Hero.]

No, seriously. If she had just climbed up, I would’ve sensed her presence and thought, ‘Oh, she’s coming up,’ then leisurely made my escape. How was I supposed to know she’d use the ‘If you won’t come down, I’ll make you come down’ method.

Thinking that the Inquisitor had become incredibly violent while I hadn’t been looking, I stepped on the falling debris as though struggling desperately for my life.

The fatigue that had flooded in through the gap left by my relaxed tension was fairly heavy and stiff, so I had no other choice. I groaned like someone who had run a marathon with an untrained body and then been hit by muscle pain the next day.

[Step on that and jump!]

The Demon was remarkably cooperative throughout the process. It really made me wonder just how badly she hated the idea of dying.

"You…damn……"

At the same time, I felt myself getting pissed off. She cared that desperately about her own life, yet until now she’d treated others’ lives as mere pebbles on the roadside? That bastard really did deserve to be punished.

Ruuuuumble!

"......!"

[This damn……!]

But there was a limit to how much desperate struggling I could manage with what little Arcane Power I had left and a body exhausted to its absolute limit.

I managed to reach the very top of the collapsing debris, but I couldn’t get a foot onto the cliff itself. My body lost its balance and finally fell along with the chunks of rock.

Thud, ruuuuumble, bam, bam, bam.

The pieces of cliff that had fallen first kicked up clouds of dust. More and more fragments piled on top of them, until I joined the heap as well.

"Cough."

「Ah......」

The impact of the collision and the injuries caused by several sharp rocks piercing through my body made me cough.

There was blood mixed into it, so internal bleeding was pretty much confirmed, but it wasn't particularly shocking. After falling from 50 m up, it would’ve been stranger if none of my organs had ruptured.

"Haah......."

Still, understanding that and feeling disappointed were two different things. There was a child who deserved a chance. I had decided I wanted to endure for his sake too.

Why now, of all times?

Ruuustle.

Powdered stone continued falling around me, crumbling apart as it landed. Some of it fell directly onto my body, further wrecking what was already completely mangled. One leg was crushed, and one arm was buried.

At this point, wouldn't I die even without the Hero finishing me off? I spat out blood once more and rested my head against the ground.

Booom!

In the meantime, part of the ground heaved upward and someone burst out.

Armor that still shone despite being lightly coated in dust. Red hair that had grown dry and seemed to have lost some of its luster. A large shield that wasn’t overly ornate, yet was far from lacking artistry.

That uncommon appearance made the person's identity obvious. It was the Inquisitor.

"Ugh, cough."

I watched the Inquisitor steady herself on the sloping ground while suppressing another cough threatening to burst out.

Why the hell was she coming out from down here after destroying the cliff? Did she seriously fail to get clear in time and get caught in the collapse herself? That thought suddenly came to me.

[Fuck, fuck, fuck……]

But absurd as that conclusion seemed, from another perspective it was only natural. To smash the cliff apart with a mace, she would have needed to get close, and the Inquisitor wasn’t exactly known for being particularly fast.

「...It’s okay.」

So I could neither laugh nor cry at this absurd situation. All I could do was lament as I looked at the young woman I had once cared for and the boy trying to comfort me.

「You did your best.」

Meanwhile, the one who had been balancing on the sloping ground finally saw me. A brief silence filled the distance between us.

Cough.

"......!"

But how long could this standoff last?

Looking at the boy who seemed about to cry and the expressionless priest, I spat out the blood that had risen into my mouth. I wanted to hold it back, but I couldn't, so there was nothing I could do.

The blood that had clogged my breathing splattered across my chin, neck, and chest. For the first time, the Inquisitor's expressionless face cracked.

"...Demon Knight."

I’d thought she had completely lost all affection for me, but apparently not. Seeing her shaken by my bloody cough, I tried to gauge how her feelings might have changed while I was gone.

Had the distance I put between us, hoping my loss would not become a wound to you, meant anything? Had my betrayal instead inflicted some enormous pain on you? Thoughts surged through me one after another.

"There was a divine oracle.”

Then our eyes met. I looked into those green eyes that had always sparkled brightly whenever they saw me but no longer shone that way.

In that instant, a profound realization struck me.

"There was an oracle telling me to kill you.”

Had I perhaps been mistaken about something?

"Demon Knight. So I…I came here to…"

I had assumed that the meaning I held for you was small enough for you to endure.

That the pain of losing it would be weak enough for you to overcome.

That because you were a kid who could remain steadfast even if I pushed you away, this pain too would someday fade.

I.

I........

"I came here to kill you."

Ah. If the Demon and the boy had become sinners against me, then I had been the sinner against you.

I was the unforgivable sinner in your eyes.

* * *

The young woman stared at the person who had once been her object of admiration, her idol, the one she had wanted to stand beside.

An arm buried beneath rubble, a crushed leg, a rock jutting through the abdomen, skin scraped and torn apart. It had been a long time since she had seen someone so strong reduced to such a wretched state. Until now, only Great Demons or enemies who had prepared meticulously against that person had ever managed to wound him so severely.

'This isn’t right.'

But the one who had injured that person now wasn't a Demon. Nor was it someone who had prepared specifically to hunt the Demon Knight.

'This really isn’t right.'

The one who had reduced the Demon Knight to this state was her.

'That person is the Demon Knight, of all people.'

The Hero’s heart, buried beneath stones in one corner of her chest, whispered. But what could she possibly say in response to it? This was all the result of her own choices, a scene she herself had brought about. Yes, this was a sight created not by a person, but by the Hero.

'He’s the person who saved those people and saved me.'

Therefore, the Hero ignored that reverberation and raised her mace. He was someone who had once said that death was the only salvation, so she tightened her grip, believing this choice would surely be right for him as well.

And if that could possibly be true. The heart buried once more stirred.

'This can’t happen. It mustn’t.'

Would she believe words that even she herself didn't believe merely because they came from her heart? The heart continued struggling desperately. But there were no other choices left. The Hero turned away from it and tightened her grip on the mace.

For the Hero to pass judgment upon one who harbored a Demon, and to deliver that judgment to an innocent person for whom death was the only path to salvation…

It was something natural in itself, and so she didn’t hesitate.

'He’s accomplished so much. I can’t kill him.'

But the heart spoke again. That was wrong.

And so the Hero raised the mace with her eyes closed. This was the right thing to do. The words she repeated inwardly were deliberately brief, as though their brevity could prove her resolve.

'H-How could I possibly……?'

Even so, the heart screamed. What had once been the Hero’s heart cried out like that. Before its wailing, the Hero silently poured strength into the mace. 

Perhaps that was simply how it had to be. Because she was the Hero. Because she was God’s sword, God’s representative, and God’s messenger.

'Please.......'

And so the Hero shut her ears to the howling of the heart that had once been human and brought the mace down. She swung it while praying that this would become his salvation.

"Inquisitor.”

But it never reached him.

* * *

Aware that my breathing had begun to come in ragged gasps, I moved my lips. I worried no sound would come out, but fortunately, it seemed to reach her. The mace stopped beside my head.

That was kind of terrifying.

"Don’t."

But there was something I had to tell her right now.

"Don’t do it, Inquisitor.”

I didn't know whether this choice was right. I couldn’t even be sure whether I was merely leaving another wound on an already wounded young woman, or deceiving her for my own sake.

"Don’t kill yourself.”

But my sins ran too deep to stop merely because I was afraid of that, and the thought of you being hurt was far too heartbreaking to bear.

I didn’t care if my sins grew deeper. I simply didn’t want to watch your wounds grow any more.

"...Why would you say that? I’m not trying to kill myself right now. I’m trying to kill you.”

I gazed steadily at the young woman doing her best to maintain an expressionless face. Her voice trembled despite how tightly she suppressed it, and her eyes, struggling to remain calm, rippled visibly before me.

‘I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to do this.’ The silent scream rising from deep within those green eyes pierced my heart. It was a scream I had caused.

"I’m not talking about myself. I’m saying I’m trying to kill you!”

I was devastated by that scream and unbearably saddened.

There couldn’t be anyone in the world who wanted to kill the person they admired. Even for someone older, losing a person they had traveled alongside would be painful. Why hadn’t I thought about that? Why had I been so certain you could overcome it?

“You, of all people! I’m the one trying to kill you!!”

You were barely an adult yourself, only just stepping out into society.

"I’m sorry.”

"Don’t apologize to me.”

"It’s all my fault.”

"You have committed no sin.”

"It’s all because of me……”

"I said this isn’t your fault!”

19 and 20. On Earth, that was the socially agreed-upon dividing line between child and adult.

"The fact that you are a Demon.”

But the moment a 19-year-old child becomes a 20-year-old young adult, do they really just instantly become an adult? Just because December 31st, 11:59 pm, becomes January 1st, 12:00 am, did their entire way of thinking and behavioral patterns suddenly become those of an adult?

"The fact that I must kill you.”

Of course not.

Just because society’s agreed-upon boundary begins treating someone as an adult doesn’t mean the person who was a child until a moment ago instantly matures. What allows someone who was once a child to grow is more experience and more encounters with the world.

"None of it is your fault."

Only more time turns a child into an adult.

"So, Demon Knight. Resent me. Believe that I failed to save you because I was inadequate.”

Of course, the Inquisitor probably wasn’t literally a child who had just turned 20 from 19. But physical age and mental age were different things, and someone raised confined within a Temple couldn’t be judged in the same way as a child who had grown up experiencing the world.

Therefore, the Inquisitor was young. Just as the boy who had struggled alone and endured in isolation remained preserved in time, unable to reflect the five years that had passed, this young woman was young as well.

"The fact that I can find no way to save you and must sentence you to death, and even this moment in which I repay your kindness with resentment, these are all things brought about by my own lack of virtue. So please, condemn me instead.”

You, who had grown only within a narrow field of vision in the name of serving humanity, were still a child.

"I……”

"You once told me that you were certain I would overcome all these trials.”

So in the end, all I could do was kneel and beg.

“If you still believe that, Inquisitor, then give me just one more chance.”

Because you were a child who didn’t even know how to be properly angry, or how to recognize that you yourself were being hurt, all I could do was desperately pray that you would give me the chance to make things right first.

“I won’t show you myself wavering anymore. So please, give me a chance to atone to you.”

Ah. Please. Don’t tell me this apology came too late.

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