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Chapter 45
Mage (3)
“Huh.”
Her brow twitched.
“You talk as if the whole world is in danger.”
“It really is,” I answered immediately.
A faint surprise rippled across her crimson eyes.
“This time we got lucky defeating Changcheon, but there are still three High Demons out there even stronger than her. And beyond those trials waits the Demon King himself—a foe so terrifying, you’ll fear even facing him.”
“W-wait.”
Lilliana’s mouth fell open.
“The Demon King? Isn’t that just some legend? Are you saying he’s real?”
“He is.”
I spoke in a serious tone.
“The moment Lady Aether chose a Hero, the war between demons and humans became an unavoidable destiny.”
“……”
She fell silent.
It seemed she needed time to process.
Reasonable, really.
In this world, humans didn’t even believe in the existence of High Demons, much less the Demon King. The public first learned of their reality after the “Changcheon Incident.” And even that was contained only thanks to me, which delayed matters further.
Anyway, Lilliana spent a long while gazing out the window. Then, at some point, she turned back to me.
“Let’s suppose you’re right—that the world is in danger, and someone must rise to meet it.”
“It’s not a supposition. It’s the truth.”
“Then why me?”
Her question was sincere.
“This country has countless people more talented than me. Why not recruit a proper archmage instead of a failure who forces you to share her pain every time she casts a spell? With the Saintess’s reputation, it shouldn’t be hard.”
“No.”
My reply was firm.
“No one else will do.”
“Why—”
“Because you’re the only one who can wield the gun I’m going to make.”
“…Is that really necessary?”
A hard smile tugged at my lips.
She looked flustered now, but she would understand soon enough.
No one fit the Hero’s party better than her.
I guaranteed it.
“When the gun is complete, you’ll see for yourself.”
Just how exceptional you really are.
“Yus, aren’t you uncomfortable? Want me to carry you? Or shall we go for a walk?”
“…I’m fine.”
In the days we waited for Lilliana’s gun, Cedric—his true identity now revealed—abandoned all his old pretenses and turned into a complete doting fool.
“Then tell me if you need anything. I’ll fetch it from the far end of the continent if I have to.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I just want to.”
“Haha… then, could you let me rest? I’m a little tired.”
“Oh, right. Of course. Rest well.”
Rejecting his excessive kindness left him looking utterly deflated.
‘What am I even supposed to do with him…’
I’d planned to keep Cedric under control, but I hadn’t expected it to be this pathetic.
Izumi, meanwhile, kept looking at us with a rather peculiar gaze.
“Saintess.”
When Cedric briefly stepped out (likely to use the bathroom), Izumi cautiously approached me.
“You’re not… being threatened by Lord Cedric, are you?”
“…What?”
That question caught me off guard.
“In this kind of situation, isn’t it usually the opposite?”
“But anyone can see you look like the one being threatened.”
…Well, fair point.
But these days the real trend is that the wide-eyed, innocent-looking heroine turns out to be the final hidden mastermind, you know?
Drop your guard like some old-fashioned Hero story protagonist, and you’ll end up skewered in an instant! Just like Izumi was stabbed by Cedric before!
“Don’t worry. We just didn’t recognize each other at first.”
“Recognize each other?”
“The truth is… I’m from the Western Continent.”
I chuckled softly.
“Cedric and I spent a little time together as children. But we’ve both changed so much since then that I didn’t realize at first.”
A lightly embellished story.
“Ahh.”
And since Izumi wasn’t the type to be suspicious, he accepted it immediately.
“So that’s it. Childhood friends—then it makes sense.”
“Funny coincidence, isn’t it?”
“It really is.”
Nodding, Izumi suddenly changed the subject.
“Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“What is it?”
“If you knew Changcheon was weak against fire, wouldn’t it have been far more effective just to burn her from the outside?”
A reasonable thought.
If I hadn’t studied the original setting in detail, I might have tried fireworks myself.
But it would have been wrong.
“What brought Changcheon down was the Hero’s Holy Sword. A High Demon’s weakness won’t break to just any old hammer.”
“Then why the fire?”
“For the finishing blow. Burning the outside alone wouldn’t have done much.”
The novel I Reincarnated as an Extra in Another World to Defeat the Demon King and Go Home often broke clichés, but at its core, it was still a traditional Hero tale.
In such a story, if something like, “Actually, you could just beat the High Demon with a simple trick, no Hero needed,” were allowed, the fun would vanish instantly.
If that were the case, it would only mean the world itself was one of those flimsy “cheaply made for transmigrators” originals.
‘Since most transmigrators replace the protagonist with cheap tricks anyway.’
Sometimes they even execute the original protagonist for being trash (usually if the transmigrator and protagonist are the same gender), or else steal the heroine role (if the genders differ—aside from certain genres).
In the end, “hidden Easter eggs” in the original are just contrived devices, letting the “real protagonist” use future knowledge to stay ahead. Such conveniently easy solutions don’t show up every time.
I’m not the protagonist.
…Or am I?
‘Wait.’
Could I actually be the protagonist?
After all, I unlocked the dormant potential that original Lilliana never could.
A puzzle so complex only a true maniac for the lore could solve.
‘And I even have a status window.’
I’d dismissed the idea before, clinging to the stereotype that protagonists are never boring healers. But now that I thought about it, there were female-lead stories with saintess protagonists.
“……”
I fell into deep thought.
If I really were the protagonist, then even this chain of thoughts might just be consumed as someone’s entertainment.
After all, most stories are created for human amusement.
And if that’s true… hmm…
Hey there, reader?
Are you listening?
Do the glowing red letters scare you?
Or is it scarier that I noticed?
Ah, but since you’re behind the screen, maybe it isn’t scary at all.
“Saintess?”
“Yes?”
“You went quiet all of a sudden. I was worried—are your legs still bothering you?”
“It’s nothing.”
I smiled brightly.
“I was just playing a little game.”
“What kind of game?”
“A game in my head.”
I pressed a finger to my lips. “Shh.”
Izumi chuckled uncertainly.
“You say difficult things sometimes, Saintess.”
“Sorry. Too hard to follow?”
“No, not at all. I like that about you.”
Brushing it off, he sat down on the chair beside me, clearly ready to have a proper talk.
“Anyway, Saintess, when are we leaving? I’m curious where our next destination will be.”
“We’ll depart soon. As soon as the Princess’s weapon is finished.”
At that, Izumi’s expression grew complicated.
“…You really mean to add her to the party?”
I glanced at him, slightly worried.
“You’re not against it, are you?”
Even though I was basically holding the reins, it was still the “Hero’s Party.” I wanted to respect Izumi’s opinion.
Lilliana’s efficiency was secondary. The irreplaceable mental well-being of the Hero came first.
“No, I don’t dislike the idea! I’d welcome more comrades.”
Thankfully, Izumi wasn’t opposed to Lilliana herself.
“It’s just… a little surprising. Princess Lilliana’s mana circuits are shattered right now.”
He hesitated before continuing.
“I assumed, given your personality, you wouldn’t bring such an unstable ally into the party. I judged too hastily.”
I blinked at him in thought.
‘Where did this go wrong?’
Why did my image end up colder than I ever planned?
