Hero's Coffin Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Harenir supported him with his arm as he staggered and almost fell.

"...You."

Then he looked down at him with a very strange expression, and normally he would have rejected being held by him. But regrettably, damn it, he couldn't.

"Ah, it hurts."

The succubus's claws were embedded in his left arm. That vicious bastard had managed to thrust its hand into him in its final struggle. Even as the headless body of the succubus collapsed to the side, the claws stuck in his arm didn't come out. The succubus's arm dangled limply.

Whoosh, as Harenir removed it and rolled up the sleeve of his robe, he could see that his arm had rotted to a dark red color. As if he had been cursed.

After seeing that state with his own eyes, urgh, his stomach churned and terrible pain hit him. Isn't it usually just bravado when villains shout about revenge or curses as they die? Then they die pathetically and nothing happens, that's the norm, right? Why is it only me who can't avoid the flag?

With a sense of injustice, he grabbed Harenir one last time. He roughly swung his right hand and grasped what he assumed was Harenir's collar, and spoke. His vision was blurry.

"I, helped..."

Sadly, his plea for recognition of his help wasn't even completed before his consciousness cut off and his body collapsed. His vision flickered.

***

He fell endlessly downward.

His whole body became damp like water-soaked cotton, unable to float up, and the more he tried to escape, the more his limbs were bound by seaweed. At some point, he was tormented by the sensation of floundering in the deep sea. The pressure of the deep sea constricted his body from all sides, and the seawater boiled bizarrely hot.

The heat was so intense that his body was beyond boiling and about to melt and crumble. I have to avoid this. I have to escape. As he struggled repeatedly with reflexive revulsion.

"Huff!"

He sat up abruptly, taking in a big breath. He touched his body while breathing roughly, still sitting up. He felt a strange sensation as if his entire body had melted and turned to liquid. Terrified, he hurriedly checked his body, then groaned painfully.

His left arm was still rotted black. Isn't it usually the rule in games that such things naturally disappear when you collapse and wake up? Shouldn't it be resolved with a potion, or glossed over with a description that days have passed and the body has recovered refreshingly when you wake up? At most, only a scar should remain like a medal.

He wanted to complain somewhere, but the throbbing pain spreading from his arm numbed his thoughts. He curled up, clutching his arm and groaning. He didn't even have the presence of mind to properly check which space the bed he was sitting on was in.

Creak...

Just then, the door opened and someone entered. The person seemed surprised to see him awake and hesitated at the doorway, but soon approached with large strides. A basin and towel were placed on the bedside table, which seemed out of place. As soon as the long, beautiful hand came into view, he recognized who it was.

Harenir. He reached out his hand to him and asked,

"How are you feeling?"

"Can't you tell by looking?"

He answered irritably. For some reason, he moved his body away as if fleeing from Harenir's hand, only showing his arm. His pale skin made the blackened, rotting wound even more noticeable. It wasn't Harenir's fault that he had been cursed, but he didn't know why he was reacting so sensitively.

He took a deep breath with his eyes tightly shut, and after calming down a bit, he asked. It must be because of the strange nightmare he had.

"...Don't you have a potion? The one I had at the historical hall was good."

"I've already given you several. But it just won't disappear with that."

"Ah..."

"It seems potions are effective in healing wounds and recovering energy, but they can't completely remove such an evil curse. It looks like it was limited to this extent because you were wearing the necklace..."

Harenir calmly explained the situation. Only then did he notice six or seven potion bottles on the bedside table. It seemed Harenir had been coming here continuously to feed him potions.

Next to them was a necklace that had lost its luster and turned black, which was the holy relic Harenir had given him when they first entered the Encroachment Zone. At that time, he had taken off the necklace he was wearing and handed it to him, and since he hadn't asked for it back, he had kept his mouth shut and continued to keep it.

His brazen stance was that since he had quietly accepted the collar around his neck, he should at least be given a good holy relic as a carrot. Thanks to that, the curse was partially blocked, but...

"It seems your body is too weak to push back the succubus's curse."

Again, it's this weak body that's the problem? He felt a surge of sorrow. He had secretly marveled at using the out-of-body skill just before, so this situation felt exactly like an equivalent exchange. He was amazed by Isaph's ability, but it became a minus because of that body. The balance was so well matched. It's exactly zero.

Give me overtime pay plus hazard pay, damn it. No, this should be treated as an industrial accident.

He fiddled with his arm while internally staging a pitiful protest. His thoughts had been jumping around wildly for a while now. Somehow, as if trying to compulsively avoid something, he kept trying to think of other things. His gaze wandered unsteadily around the space.

Harenir seemed to interpret this behavior as a question about the place, so he explained the room.

"You remember there were other buildings besides the temple on the sky island, right? Since it's a space that's been abandoned for about a thousand years, we found the most usable house and came in."

He nodded slowly, recalling the appearance of vines covering various places. Somehow the room was clean, it seemed his companions had found a decent house and tidied up the interior. The bed was very old, but there was even a blanket.

Still, were they taking care of him because he was injured, no, because he had dealt with the succubus? That must be why Harenir was kindly explaining things. He was someone who usually didn't properly answer questions he asked out loud.

And even now, after moving his lips a couple of times, he said,

"We received a lot of help this time. I also heard from Sir Kalterik..."

His tone was quite awkward, as if he hadn't expected to give such a greeting to him. Had his chanting about helping until the end influenced this greeting?

Clearly, Harenir's words were close to the hero's acknowledgment that he had so desperately wanted. Although he had a feeling that the quest couldn't possibly end in success already, knowing that three Encroachment Zones remained, right now, more than disappointment about that or anger at the vague form of the quest...

"Hah..."

He only wished for his terrible pain to disappear right now. His arm was throbbing and tingling. No, from there... was heat spreading?

...Ah.

"...Isaph?"

"Ah! So, be-bear, no, Kalterik, does he have any aftereffects from the nightmare?"

He asked incoherently. His instincts were warning him. That he shouldn't zone out even for a moment right now, that he needed to firmly fix his consciousness on something.

Harenir looked down at him with a very enigmatic expression. He tilted his head, either because his behavior seemed strange or because the content of his question was quite unexpected.

"Yes. He seems to be fine. ...Are you worried about him?"

"Not to that extent, hah, um, I mean, I accidentally glimpsed his trauma."

Again, words poured out without order. Just then, an oddly long sigh burst out in the middle, so he added more words to try to cover it up. It was just that the undead's vision was shared by chance, he didn't look on purpose. As he laid out his words like an excuse, Harenir shrugged.

"For a while after the human-demon war ended, neither demons nor monsters appeared. But after the Dium burned the continent, they started to show their faces again. Perhaps they perceived a gap had formed..."

"Ah..."

"So, the scene you probably saw was likely just before I met Sir Kalterik. I saved him when a monster hiding in the grass was about to pounce on him."

He ended up hearing about Harenir and Kalterik's first meeting by chance. It was when the Holy Knight Order had gone to rescue the villagers of a town devastated by monster attacks, and he had saved Kalterik, who was about to be killed by a monster, and even helped with his parents' funeral.

Was that why Kalterik blindly followed Harenir? The probability that he saw him in his holy knight uniform then and joined out of admiration... Wait. Kalterik looks older than Harenir.

"...To be active as a holy knight from such a young age, you must have had strong faith."

He knew that Harenir had become a holy knight at twelve, the youngest in history, but it seemed he hadn't just joined but had actually gone on rescue missions. Was someone destined to become a hero different from the start?

He seemed like a being who had lived purely and sacredly from childhood.

At his words, Harenir's eyes widened, then he smiled gently. He sometimes made such enigmatic smiles. It seemed there was a reason other than what he had guessed, but he didn't bother to correct it. The act of leaving a misunderstanding seemed like drawing a line, or perhaps he didn't care because he had lived under such views for a long time.

Still, perhaps considering his efforts this time, he answered in a soft tone.

"Yes. Both my parents were holy knights, so the environment I was exposed to from birth..."

For a while now, Harenir had been quite kindly receiving the conversation. It was an extremely rare moment where he was even telling stories about himself first, and not looking at him with disgust.

He really didn't have the slightest desire to break this good atmosphere.

"Ugh..."

Another strange sound escaped from his mouth. As soon as the sound close to a groan burst from his lips, he hurriedly covered his mouth with his hand.