NOVEL NEXT Chapter 4
Splash.
Cliff.
That place is truly a mysterious one.
As the Demon King, I faced numerous heroes and made them all fall into the abyss.
To be precise, it was the cliff where I led those heroes to their doom.
And about 3% of those heroes managed to survive the fall.
How did I arrive at this figure of 3%? It can only be attributed to statistics.
Out of 100 heroes plunged, almost 3 would inevitably survive and return stronger.
I’ve killed countless self-proclaimed heroes over the past 500 years, yet odd enough, around 3% of those who fell off the cliff survived.
What kind of place is this cliff, anyway?
I never gave it much thought, but now it holds meaning for me.
A place where I can find freedom.
A place where I won’t be controlled by some human necromancer.
An escape route to at least avoid sinister acts conducted by liches possessing a woman’s body!
‘That bastard dares to look at me with those eyes.’
Zephar.
He wanted to possess me.
This notion of possession carries various meanings, but to be explicit, he wanted to make me a “female.”
He sought to dominate my soul and siphon my magic.
After turning me into a slave focused solely on his desires, he intended to drain my power and turn me into his minion.
‘Disgusting bastard.’
I will exact revenge on Zephar.
Just for daring to entertain such a repulsive thought about me, he deserves to die, and though he is already dead as a lich, I will shatter his life vessel and incinerate his soul so it cannot cross into the afterlife.
For that, first…
“Cough…!”
Surviving this furious torrent is of utmost priority.
‘No pursuit! None, but…!’
Zephar did not chase me off the cliff.
He probably could never imagine that I would throw myself over.
My heart was pierced.
Because I’m undead.
A corpse that must move according to his orders.
However, I moved my body with free will.
‘He has dominion.’
I made this body mine.
I fixed the magic flowing from my soul into this physical body and synchronized all my senses to accept the sensations of this body.
Now this body is mine. I can do with it as I please.
‘How dare he try to control an undead with just a heart.’
Perhaps Zephar thought he could simply manipulate this body with the heart as a tool for consciousness, but my soul can control this body faster than the heart ever could.
If you can’t dodge it, accept it quickly.
I decided that this body is “my body” and aimed to protect myself within it.
The issue is that as I recognize this as my body, the sensations of the body are gradually synchronizing with my own.
“Damn it!”
‘So painful!’
Water fills the gaping hole in my chest.
I’m overwhelmed with the pain of my insides being torn apart; it feels as if my whole body is about to burst.
The torrent tosses me around, and water is seeping into me.
Water is pouring into the hole where my heart used to be.
I’m using my magic to contain water within my body.
‘I have to fill it as much as the blood that’s leaking out.’
Blood cannot be restored.
Because I have no heart.
Instead, I can direct water to flow through my entire body in place of blood.
Now that I’m undead, what needs to flow in place of blood…
‘Is mana!’
Before I was summoned, the moment this body lost its heart, all the blood flowed out through my mouth and heart.
To move this body as much like a human as possible, I need to let mana flow through it based on natural water.
‘At least until I gather enough strength to switch to another body!’
From the moment my heart was ripped out, in order to avoid this body rotting away in its undead state, I must let magic flow through it.
But it isn’t enough.
Even if I urgently pour water into my body while ignoring the pain, there’s no organ to circulate it.
Without a heart, the liquid in my body will eventually seep out again.
So something must take the role of the heart—
“!!”
I shot straight up.
To avoid losing sight of what’s ahead in the torrent, I reached up toward the ceiling.
Splosh!!
I plunged my hand into the slime stuck to the cave’s ceiling.
Squish!
As I pulled a solid object from the acidic creature that would melt my hand, I yanked it down.
Poke!
And I shoved that into my chest.
I pierced the slot where my heart had once been with the “magic stone” I had seized from the slime.
Glow, glow, glow!
My heart began to shine.
I drew my arms around my chest, focusing all my consciousness on the magic.
The absorbed river water will become blood, and it will carry mana in place of oxygen to keep my body from decaying.
So please.
‘May I escape safely.’
I don’t know where the end of this torrent will take me, but at the very least, I just have to avoid being trapped and consumed by some pathetic lich!
Whoosh!
I relinquished my body to the distant light.
Then.
“Oh, is that a waterfall?”
I fell out with the waterfall.
Gurgle.
*
Hero’s Village.
A small village in the forest with a population of barely 100, clustered around a plaza along with several homes.
What’s peculiar is that this village has a deep history of 500 years.
Is this village to honor the hero who fought the Demon King 500 years ago? No.
Is it the birthplace of the hero? No.
This village houses the “Holy Sword.”
Stuck upside down in the village plaza, the Holy Sword that can only be pulled by a legitimate hero.
Thus, it is called the Hero’s Village.
More accurately, it’s the village where a hero will be born.
However, if such a village exists publicly, the remnants of the Demon King or the Demon Race would certainly not allow a hero to emerge.
After the Demon King was defeated 500 years ago, there appeared demon races that labeled themselves as “Demon Lords” or claimed to be the descendants of the Demon King, threatening humanity.
While they weren’t on the same level as the Demon King, they still posed threats to humanity by destroying whole kingdoms.
Yet despite this, the Hero’s Village remained safe.
A village that calls itself the Hero’s Village, home to a sword that might have slain the Demon King—why was it safe?
– Is this really the Holy Sword?
Why?
500 years.
– A sword that no one could pull. I’ll just pull it and corrupt it into a magic sword!!
– Surround this village! If we kill civilians, a relative who leaves may awaken as a hero! So let’s take hostages and kill those who come to pull the Holy Sword! …What the hell, why hasn’t anyone come out after 30 years?
– Hmph, is this the Holy Sword? Disgusting.
– Hahaha! Saintess! Pull the Holy Sword! And I’ll kill you next! …Why can’t the Saintess pull it? Are you really a saintess?
There were truly many things that happened concerning the Hero’s Village, but no one was able to pull the Holy Sword.
– This is pure nonsense, damn it.
The village chief prayed to the sword plunged into the altar in an effort to uphold the tradition of 500 years, but the demon races thought this village was full of hot air and paid it no heed.
The sword was quite sharp and beautiful, yet it began to rust as it endured the ravages of time.
Who would dare call a pathetic-looking sword the Holy Sword, but regrettably, even trying to repair or move the sword was something no one was able to do.
The Holy Sword was truly strange.
For real, no one could pull the sword.
Even the famed Mercenary King and Grand Swordmaster could not pull it.
Even scholars who had mastered magic and researched all the ancient artifacts could not get a grasp on this bizarre sword.
If anyone had managed to pull the sword, they could have repaired it or sharpened it; yet, such a thing was entirely impossible.
In 500 years, a legitimate hero should have emerged, yet not a single one appeared.
Thus, the village chief’s family reluctantly concluded something historically laid out.
This Hero’s Village.
It’s merely a “tourist spot” created by placing some special curse on a sword.
And.
In this small village, there is a young man with blond hair and blue eyes—’Arthur Lucius.’
Lucius.
He has no last name.
Commoners don’t have last names, and his name was the only evidence left behind for the orphan he once was.
Even though he was an orphan, one might wonder if he has some special past, but there’s no way to find out.
Except for being a little handsome, there’s no noble arriving to seek him, nor a beautiful woman calling out “Young Master Lucius.”
He’s just a slightly good-looking young man who is skilled in hunting.
His occupation is that of a hunter, living a bit away from the village.
He used to live with his grandfather, who took him in as an orphan, but after his grandfather died, he survived by hunting animals in solitary.
Today’s hunting is fishing.
Humming a tune, he waited for a big catch to bite.
Waiting for a catch to come on the hook is the mindset a fisherman shouldn’t have.
Hunters must wait for their prey to approach the bait.
But.
“…Huh?”
He saw something floating in the distance.
It resembled a corpse, drifting and colliding with the rocks peeking above the surface.
“Could it be a person?!”
Lucius dropped his fishing rod and jumped straight into the water.
He didn’t mind whether his clothes got wet, swimming skillfully toward the floating object.
“Hey! Are you okay?!”
“…Don’t yell…”
The girl who had submerged her head in the water lifted it out.
She was a flawless beauty, but strikingly pale, devoid of vitality.
She looked almost like a doll.
Particularly, her gem-like red eyes were strikingly vivid.
“My head’s spinning…”
“Ah, um, I’m just here to help you float…”
“…Ah.”
The girl firmly shook her head.
“It’s not a corpse.”
“…Yes, that’s right.”
“I was just too lazy to move and was drifting away in the water.”
“…….”
Lucius picked up something strange.
“By the way, how long are you going to hold onto me?”
“What? Ah, no!!”
Lucius jumped back, startled.
Even though it was underwater, he could still feel the sensation.
Splash, splash.
“…Well, whatever, hey.”
The girl held onto Lucius’s wrist.
“Since you found me, you’re responsible for me.”
The girl referred to herself as ‘Bel.’