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(Prologue)
They often say that heroes are born in times of chaos.
The idea is that an ordinary child, the kind you could find in any neighborhood, blossoms with the talent of a hero when faced with turbulent times. If those chaotic times had never arrived, that child would have lived an ordinary life, never realizing the heroic potential within them.
This widely spread notion is undoubtedly laced with the sorrow, respect, and sense of indebtedness felt by those who were saved by heroes.
I get it.
But from my perspective—the one who actually has to become a hero?
It’s a load of absolute bullshit.
There is no better example of all show and no substance than this.
Just think about it.
About 700 years ago, the first five heroes sacrificed their lives to close the gates of a dangerous dimension.
After that period of upheaval passed, the world went through a recovery phase and has now welcomed its present golden age.
So, does the story end here? Is it a happy ending?
Will there never be a second period of chaos? Won’t a catastrophe even greater than the last one arrive?
“Oh, our heroes. May the grace of mana be with them.”
If people were going to shed tears, show gratitude, and even scatter flower petals, shouldn’t they have worked to ensure the same tragedy wouldn’t repeat itself?
Instead, people concentrated on going back to being ordinary children you could find in any neighborhood.
While they were busy doing that, the Magic Tower—the treasure trove of knowledge—was shut down.
Magic dealing with life was banned.
The genius revolutionaries who appeared during the recovery era vanished without a trace.
A religion worshiping mana seized control of the state and power.
The nobility rotted away, greedy for accumulated wealth.
The world erased the memory of chaos.
Isn’t it… stranger if a period of chaos doesn’t return after all this?
Ah, it’s fine, you say? Because heroes are born in times of chaos?
Then what about the everyday lives that collapse before the blood of a hero can be hurriedly awakened? What about the lives sacrificed?
Above all, what about me—the hero who has to bear all of that?
Right. I’ve made up my decision.
I, Kaian Bellore Valentine. Even though I got roped into a weird-looking horned elf and made a contract to become a hero…
I am never going to shoulder the burden of being the only hero.
This isn’t a path you can walk alone. Even the first heroes were a group of five, so why should I take the fall by myself?
An ancient sage once said: “The more, the merrier.” And when it comes to heroes, the more there are, the better.
Five is nowhere near enough.
There need to be so many that a period of chaos can never happen a second time.
That way, precious heroes won’t die young, either.
Heroes are beneficial beings. Therefore, the longer they live, the better.
Wouldn’t it be too unfair to go through all kinds of hardship only to die young?
Right. I’ve decided.
I, Kaian Bellore Valentine, swear upon the name of my house.
I will become a hero who enjoys a long and healthy life. That is my dream from now on.
You’ll see.
I am going to become that kind of hero—one with a whole bunch of companions, who lives a long and healthy life.
Excerpted from the diary of Kaian, who celebrated his ninth birthday.
1439. 09. 10.
