WeTried Translations
Translator: Goku
Editor: Sty
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The War Hero in the NTR Game Wants to Die ◈
Chapter 003
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Fading Dream (2)
Yesterday's battle was much longer than usual.
It was probably about thirty-four times.
Only after dying thirty-four times did the battle end.
And the next day, the foreign races, having accepted that their main forces were completely wiped out, surrendered.
It meant the war was over.
As news of the victory spread, everyone cheered like mad.
Meanwhile, I just sat there blankly.
Even though I was being treated as a hero who brought the foreign races to their knees outside, I felt nothing special.
The people cheering would all be the same.
They were cheering because they could escape this place, not because many would genuinely be happy about winning.
I just wanted to rest a bit.
Away from the voices of people, away from the Academy, away from being an instructor, not thinking about anything.
To a place where I couldn't hear the voice of some childhood friend or whatever, a person I'd never even met.
"So… you're not going to do anything?"
"Yes."
"Well, I suppose you can be like that for a while."
The captain handed me a piece of paper as I left the barracks.
An address was written on it.
"If you run into any trouble, contact me anytime."
"To a Gryan, you mean?"
When I asked with a laugh, the captain shrugged.
"He said he had no son like you, you know."
I laughed it off without a reply and left the barracks.
Just like when I was first dragged here, I rode in a carriage for a long time.
All the way to the village near the Gryan Ducal House's mansion.
As soon as I reached the village, I stopped at a general store and bought a few bottles of decent liquor.
The owner glanced at the sword I was wearing, but when I offered money, he didn't feel the need to speak.
Then, I headed towards the familiar waterfront.
Even though it was my first time here.
The place where Riehen would always sneak out of the mansion and sit.
And next to him, that girl was always there.
Even though I had never once met her, her voice clung to my ears.
Her laughter, her chatter, the sound of her saying she would one day leave this tiresome village.
The sound of her saying it was impossible to trust and wait for someone like me.
I sat down by the water and opened a bottle of liquor.
And then I sat there for a long time.
How much time had passed?
Footsteps rushed towards me.
"Hey, you! I don't know where you came from, but vagrants aren't welcome."
Four guards approached, their spears aimed at me.
It seemed someone had reported a suspicious vagrant with a sword drinking at the waterfront.
"……So?"
"You need to leave the village."
It was annoying.
As they thrust their spear shafts at me, I stood up and drew my sword.
With a flick of my wrist, the spear shafts aimed at me shattered to pieces.
I approached the guards and raised my sword… and saw their terrified faces.
That familiar expression, turning deathly pale and backing away.
This isn't a battlefield.
I sheathed my sword back at my waist.
And then, without a word, I left the spot.
Someone was yelling something behind me, but it wasn't my concern.
Anyway, I drank straight from the bottle and dragged my feet to the Gryan Ducal House.
In front of the massive iron gate.
The guards, seeing my appearance, thought I was a vagrant and waved their hands, trying to chase me away.
"This isn't a place you can just casually-"
Mid-sentence, one of them saw my face and froze.
"……Young, Young Master?"
The gate hastily opened.
As I entered the mansion, a few maids tried to block my way, but likewise recognized my face and fell silent.
The butler, who had been standing at the end of the hallway, was about to approach, but after hearing the maid's words, he stiffened, looking like he didn't know what to say.
It was understandable; the trash they had chased out to die had walked back in perfectly fine.
Without exchanging a single word with anyone, I went straight into my room.
A full-length mirror in the corner caught my eye.
A helpless vagrant in tattered clothes stood there.
The room looked no different from the day I first tried to hang myself.
As might be expected, the noose I had tied to the ceiling had been removed.
Riehen, or rather, I… had been holed up in this room until just before death, steeped in alcohol and cigarettes all day long.
It's one of the most foolish ways to stop thinking.
The somewhat wiser way is to hang yourself and die, then dump everything on the next person.
Just as Riehen had done.
The problem is, even if I try, I can't die.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to choose but foolish methods.
I opened the cupboard, took out liquor, and drank it straight from the bottle.
Then I remembered the cigars piled high in the same compartment, took one out, lit it, and clamped it between my lips.
Smoke slowly wafted up to the ceiling.
When I had finished about two bottles of liquor, my body slumped.
I leaned against the sofa as if lying down.
I'm not a loser.
I'm not a useless person.
And certainly not Riehen.
I gained weight every day, didn't try, holed up in my room all day, but I could still eat and live just by doing part-time jobs, so why would I be trash?
Anyway, I used to earn my own keep.
Even if I'm a knight whose muscles are wasting away, not trying, and squandering the family fortune on luxuries every day, I'm not trash.
Defining me as a loser or trash is the problem itself.
It's not that I don't try and thus become trash; it's that I was branded trash, so I don't even bother trying.
It's just... you guys gave birth to a bunch of defects and are just blaming me.
I lived just like everyone else, so why do I have to live like this just because I lacked a bit of talent?
Was there anything different? Was there?
If you're the eldest son of the Gryan Ducal House, is it natural to accept scorn just for being a bit lacking?
Duke Gryan probably doesn't have a son.
Fuck, at least I wouldn't be your seed.
Because a deficient, worm-like bastard like me couldn't possibly have come from your seed.
I wish you weren't my father either.
At least my mother was kind to me.
Only my mother is pitiful, to have such a fucked-up bastard as her husband.
While waiting for my death day after day, I vaguely thought of wanting to die.
And then I felt a little bit happy.
Like a person who goes to work at 8 AM and leaves at 9 PM feels happy recalling a travel plan six months away.
But I can't die.
Riehen's memories unpleasantly prick at my mind.
Who cares. I've died thousands of times, so now I'm half Riehen, I guess.
Childhood friends are meant to be stolen by others, aren't they?
Why are you getting depressed all by yourself and acting up?
The Gryan Ducal House's worm is meant to be used as a trash can, aren't they?
Why are you whining?
"How could a man who couldn't even properly wield a sword once become a hero?"
A voice was heard.
"A war hero? Don't make me laugh. You probably didn't do anything there, did you?"
Did I die again?
My hand reflexively grabbed the sword, trying to draw it.
I picked up one shitty habit from the battlefield.
"…Why, do you want to cross swords with me or something?"
When I subtly raised my head, Rione was in the room without knocking.
I slowly released the strength from the hand gripping the sword.
I sighed, then flopped back down onto the sofa.
"Why… hiccup… did you come here?"
"What reason is needed for family to visit family?"
"……Anyone who heard that would think you actually treat me like family."
"Don't get cocky just because you were lucky enough to return alive, Big Brother."
"Was I lucky?"
"Are you proud of crawling out of a place where you were sent to die? You've been talking back since earlier."
Instead of replying, I tried to bring the liquor bottle to my lips, but Rione approached and grabbed my wrist.
I didn't expect her to lash out like this after just a few words.
Rummaging through my memories, it seems I haven't been able to make eye contact with this child since some point.
It's probably an inferiority complex.
Who cares.
"What did you think would change if you came back?"
I didn't answer, knocked her hand away, and then drank the liquor straight.
Then Rione let out a hollow laugh.
"Not knowing your place, and getting all puffed up just because you killed a few people. What a sight."
"What do you want to say?"
"Instead of drinking the moment you arrive, you should say you've returned, you worm-like bastard."
"I'm back."
"……Are you joking?"
Rione snatched the bottle from my hand and threw it straight at the wall.
No sound effect comes to mind besides crash.
Anyway, liquor spread profusely on the floor, and broken glass shards flew everywhere.
"Even if you go astray now. Why don't you try to act like a model student, like when you were young, huh?"
The room instantly became a mess.
With cigarette smoke clinging to the smell of alcohol, the air grew thick and heavy.
"Father might look at you again, you know? Even if you don't wield a sword, since you're a Gryan, you could just sell your name like a male prostitute and live, couldn't you?"
"……That damn Gryan."
"If it weren't for that damn Gryan, who would want to stick by your side, Big Brother?
The family tried to cut you off, so your engagement was broken, and that commoner you hung around with, when someone else was attached to her, she followed them all the way to the capital just fine, didn't she, huh?"
I was about to retort but stopped.
After sighing, I took a long drag from my cigar.
And then exhaled the smoke once more.
"If Mother were alive, what would she say about someone like you? You'd remember, wouldn't you?"
I'm tired.
Since there was no reply, the girl, for some reason, cautiously continued, watching my mood.
"……Someone who wanted to die so badly, what nerve do you have to come back alive?"
She's been nagging like hell since earlier. That fucking bitch.
"……What?"
The girl suddenly stiffened her expression.
Then she suddenly slapped my cheek.
It seems I uttered what I was only thinking in my mind.
Rubbing my face, since I had already spoken it out loud, I decided to just continue.
"If Mother were alive, she would have told them to throw out someone like you immediately. Mother loved me. She didn't even want a second child in the first place."
Thanks to the alcohol, words flowed out effortlessly.
At this point, are these the words Riehen, or rather, I usually think?
"You, you're just… that. Because you've never once received parental love in your life. Only able to utter such words… what was it called……."
Parents are beings who give love.
If you don't receive love, then it's no different from not having parents…….
"An orphan bitch. Right. You were an orphan."
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