I Became the Hero Who Banished the Protagonist. - Chapter 17

The Holy Sword was embedded in a rock like another sword of legend. It was silently sleeping in an ancient ruin in the mountains surrounding the Capital. During one of his trips as an adventurer, Elroy stumbled upon the ruins and drew the Holy Sword.

It’s not that other adventurers hadn’t tried to draw the sword before. In fact, it was a ritual for adventurers who went near the ruins, but the Holy Sword never budged once. Some even tried to split the rock it was embedded in, but they didn’t even make a scratch.

“Erai, let’s go. It’s getting late.”

“Damn it, I’ve wasted my strength. What the hell is that thing that I can’t pull out even with my mana-enhanced strength?”

“Why would that sword be called the Sacred Sword of the Puritans or the Holy Sword? Only its chosen user can draw it, but it seems you’re out of the running.”

The attempts to draw it gradually dwindled. The knights of the kingdom, not the adventurers, knew that the Holy Sword would not be removed, so they didn’t bother trying.

However, that sword was drawn by a young man who happened to be near the ruins for the first time. After returning to the Capital, he became the Hero. That is the past of Elroy I know of.

“Hero, come forward with your Holy Sword.”

Count Wallace spoke to me in this commanding tone. I looked at Bishop Andrei before snapping my mind back to the Count.

“Are you questioning if I qualify to be the Hero?”

“We ask the questions, not you, Hero. Come forward with your holy sword.”

Losing my cool and shouting would undo the momentum I’d built up. If I could meet Elroy, I’d tell him to start acting like a Hero. How could he be so arrogant that nobles had to question his qualifications?

“And if you don’t think I’m worthy, what will you do then?”

A hideous smile crept up on his face.

“Wouldn’t it be right, then, that if someone was more qualified than the current Hero, they should be chosen as your replacement, and you would be banished as well?”

I felt sick to my stomach looking at his face.

“If you’re willing to admit your mistake now, take responsibility for it, and relinquish your position as leader of the expedition, we can pretend the question never came up. There’s no need to complicate things.”

‘Was this what he wanted, for me to cower and accept his offer?’ I let out a small sigh.

“You raise a fair point. But how are you going to test it? Do you want me to hand your knights my Holy Sword and ask them to fight?”

“…According to legend, the Holy Sword grants divine power to its chosen wielder. This can be proven by emitting light from the blade.”

Barely able to contain his anger, the Count said. Like a seasoned politician, he was used to dealing with his emotions. Though his voice sounded forced as if he’d been clenching his teeth.

“In the hands of the right person, it will undergo a transformation, and it will be nothing like the one you hold now.”

As he spoke, he gestured toward the sword at my waist.

(I find it quite unbecoming of you to call these humans I never accepted as my future master. In addition, spouting off about the myths of the foragers. Truly despicable.)

The Holy Sword grumbled in my head. ‘Hold on for a bit longer. It won’t be long before those faces rot like old fruit.’

“Now, it’s up to you, Hero. What will you do?”

“Here’s what I’ll do.”

I walked off the dais. The Count’s shoulders jerked at my sudden movement. ‘How can he handle politics if he is startled by this?’ I snorted softly and drew my holy sword with my left hand. The hilt glinted in the light of the chandelier above the council chamber.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The Count was flapping his hands like chicken wings. I ignored his reaction and lightly slammed the Holy Sword into the floor in the center of the council chamber. I didn’t want to do it too hard, or I’d blow a massive crack in the foundation.

The people gathered watched my action with question and fear. I gently wrapped my hand around the hilt.

‘Take care of it.’

(Don’t worry; I know what you’re thinking. This reminds me of the first time you found me.)

‘As if.’

With a bitter laugh, I released the Holy Sword and stepped back. ‘I apologize, but I don’t remember the first time I drew you.’ I took a deep breath and spoke to everyone.

“I’m sure you all know how the Holy Sword chose me. I drew it from a rock in a ruin on the city’s outskirts.”

The council was silent, waiting for me to speak. I gestured to look at the Holy Sword.

“I don’t need to show you how to wield it. Suppose anyone can pull that holy sword out of the ground. In that case, I will relinquish the title of Hero and the title of the expedition leader. I will transfer all positions and responsibilities to that person.”

The nobles were stunned. In the meantime, the eyes of Count Wallace, who had been arguing with me all along, flickered. He suddenly had a bad feeling that I was being too confident. He said, “You spoke first, so I can’t refuse your offer.”

Georg looked at me and then at the Holy Sword in confusion. Bishop Andre looked at me with a gleam.

“… You seem confident, Hero.”

“Then you lack it, Count Wallace, and if you will now apologize for your remarks and step aside, I will retrieve my sword.”

I’m sure he didn’t expect me to come out like this, but, well. I wouldn’t be this confident if the Holy Sword hadn’t spoken to me.

“…Understood. If that’s what you want to do.”

He’s not even going to try himself.

Instead, he gestured to the knights, including those waiting outside. Being knights, they showed no sign of agitation except for Georg. Georg looked at me as if to ask, “What the hell are you thinking?” I answered by looking at the sword stuck in the ground.

“You want to go first?”

I asked Georg playfully. Georg momentarily studied my face as if trying to read my expression and sighed.

“I’ll try it first.”

“Excellent. Master Georg of the Knights of the Ashen Bear. As a member of the expedition, you are well qualified. Go ahead.”

I’m the one who owns it, but the Count is the one giving permission. While I stare at him with narrowed eyes, Georg approaches the Holy Sword and grabs the hilt. The council’s eyes focused on him. Georg looked at me apologetically, then tightened his grip on the handle.

“…!”

Silence

“Hrmph!”

Silence again.

“Master Georg, I believe I told you to try.”

Said the Count in a questioning voice. Georg was visibly flustered. The sweat dripping from his forehead suggested he was genuinely trying with all his might. Still, considering he was a colleague, I thought I could cut him some slack. But I have to say, what an inflexible and cranky bastard.
“… I’m trying.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to draw the Holy Sword with all my might.”

Georg said in a dazed voice. He shook his head, let go of the hilt, and dropped it. There was a slight murmur of approval.

“Are you joking with me, Master Georg?”

“I swear on my honor. I am at full strength.”

Georg spoke in a stiff voice, his face colored with impatience.

“Which knight shall try next?”

Count Wallace spoke in a low voice, and the Templars exchanged glances. Eventually, a knight glaring at me throughout the hearing raised his hand.

“I’ll give it a try.”

“Very well, Master Alberto of the Order of the White Falcon. You may try.”

I regret not having popcorn to eat while watching.

The knight called Alberto stepped forward curiously and, without hesitation, took hold of the sword. He glanced at me before he gripped the sword. Alberto grasped the hilt with a relaxed smile and tried to lift it.

Of course, it didn’t budge.

“…What the hell, this can’t be.”

‘This is peak comedy right here.’ Alberto adjusted his stance again and regripped the handle with both hands as if pulling up a radish.

“Hmph!”

With a grimace, he strained his forearms and lats. Of course, the Holy Sword didn’t budge, and Alberto’s face turned crimson. Alberto’s wrestling went on for several minutes after that, ending only after his subordinate called out multiple times for him to stop.

“…Next.”

One by one, the knights attempted to pull the sword. But none could even make it wiggle, let alone draw it. As each knight failed, the blood drained from Count Wallace’s face, and the power in his voice faded as he called for the next knight. The other courtiers in attendance began to look at me differently.

“It’s impossible…”

Finally, A knight, even larger than Georg stepped out. The knight slumped to the ground, breathing harshly and shaking his head.

“…I can’t. No matter how much I strengthen my body with mana and use my aura, it won’t budge.”

“These useless bastards…”

Count Wallace gritted his teeth and stomped forward, unable to contain his anxiety and anger. The other courtiers, including the chairman of the hearing, watched, not one of them thinking to restrain him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

The High Priest grabbed the hilt of his sword and tried to pull it free. He strained, but the holy sword wouldn’t budge. He didn’t care about his image anymore as he grabbed the hilt and cursed.

“Ughhhhhhhhhh! Fuck!”

He made a face while trying his hardest. It was getting ridiculous to keep watching the shenanigans. Bending at the waist, I looked down at the agonizing Count, who looked up at me, his jaw twitching.

“You… what did you do to the Holy Sword….”

“Playtime is over.”

I casually walked up to the center and grabbed it. Its now familiar mana flowed into me, and I heard its voice in my head as if it had been waiting for me.

(Watching them attempt to wield me was hilarious. It was pretty entertaining.)

‘All that’s left is the kill confirm.’

(I know. Let’s give them an exciting view. I’ll help, so just wait for a second.)

I slowly drew the Holy Sword without much effort. Its blade slowly began to glow auspiciously from its root. When it fully revealed itself, it became a brilliant beam of light that enveloped the entire council, causing everyone in the room to shake their heads. This is the miracle they’ve been waiting for.

“…Crazy.”

Someone muttered in disbelief,

“God….”

I could hear Bishop André’s voice trailing off in ecstasy. Raising my Holy Sword, I pointed it at the chairman seated and declared.

“I, and no one else, am the Holy Sword’s chosen warrior.”

Its glow slowly faded. Gritting my teeth as I endured the backlash of opening the first awakening, I slid the Holy Sword back into its sheath. The council stared at me in complete silence.

“Do you understand?”

The Count, squirming on the floor, shook his head frantically. ‘You’ve lost, even if you won’t admit it.’

“No…no, of course not.”

“That’s enough. This hearing is over.”

Breaking the denial and the heavy silence, a woman’s voice carried across the council chamber. She didn’t speak loudly, but the echo strangely imprinted on everyone’s ears. The council’s deputies looked toward the direction of the voice, stunned, and I looked toward the direction of the voice, my eyes wide with surprise.

It was her.

I swallowed dryly and grabbed the holy sword, which asked curiously.

(Who are you talking about?)

‘The one who made me the Expedition Leader and granted me authority for the Expedition. I never thought she’d be here today.’

The doors to the council chamber opened, and the sound of footsteps across the hall grew closer and closer.

A step.

Another.

Yet another…

As the steps drew closer, and all the silence and confusion that had built up converged on that one point, a voice echoed through the council.

“Her Majesty Queen Agnes Blanche Lumiere, the rightful ruler of the Kingdom of Kairos, stern judge, great warrior, and compassionate protector of her people, enter!”