Chapter 10: Deals that never work (8)

Magic-infused tools are expensive.

Take, for instance, tools that block all surrounding sounds.

These items are typically reserved for special circumstances when even a mage’s help is deemed unnecessary—like when a party’s mage hasn’t prepared properly, or when holding a conversation so secretive that it must remain utterly private.

In either case, such tools are used to conceal things that must not be revealed. A poorly prepared mage, or secrets carelessly exposed, always lead to trouble.

“So, did you enjoy the hero’s report, Father?”

“… It wasn’t very useful.”

“Perhaps because you assigned them such pointless tasks?”

Tick-tick.

The sound of a pocket watch filled the study, lit by the soft glow of a magic firestone.

The source of the ticking was King Rodnova, father of Princess Rodnova and ruler of the Kingdom of Rozahan.

The princess quietly poured tea, her gaze lingering on her father. Soon, the rich aroma of the brew permeated the room.

The king’s skill in brewing tea was impressive, I thought to myself as I sipped my cup.

“Did the saint offer any insights?”

“… I gathered from our conversation that some merchants have noticed the currency revaluation.”

“That’s troubling.”

The Kingdom of Rozahan, founded 300 years ago after the rise of the Demon King, is one of the continent’s five nations. Being relatively young, it lacks both the history and strength of its neighbors.

Militarily, it is the weakest among the five, but its vast grain fields make it an economic powerhouse. Yet even that advantage comes with complications.

Rozahan’s currency, being less trusted beyond its borders, tends to lose value the further it travels. In normal times, this isn’t a major issue. But with the looming threat of the Demon King’s resurrection, everything changes.

Merchants are quick to notice such shifts. The rise of a hero signals the imminent return of the Demon King, and with it, the chaos that weakens trust in smaller nations.

To stabilize the economy, Rozahan had increased the silver and gold content in its currency. However, this move depleted the national treasury and came at great cost.

“Ugh, perhaps I should have kept the hero’s existence a secret…”

But it was too late. Merchants had already connected the dots. A revaluation of currency meant profits for those holding large amounts of silver and gold. Wealthy merchants like Deros would surely capitalize on this.

“Well, how was I to know what kind of person the hero truly was?”

“… It still makes me sick.”

Tick-tick.

The king’s fingers absently traced the edge of his pocket watch.

There is only one way to seal the Demon King: through the hero, a being summoned from another world. For that reason, both the hero and the Demon King’s existence had been kept secret, known only to a select few.

But rumors spread quickly. If merchants had noticed the hero, it wouldn’t be long before the general populace did too. The consequences could be catastrophic.

And what of the demons? They would have sensed the hero’s presence already.

“Maybe the hero has already taken action, as they did last time?”

“Doubt arises only when there’s cause for suspicion,” the king replied, retrieving an item from his desk: a sword.

The blade was said to belong to the hero summoned 300 years ago. As a medium, it allowed for the summoning of a new hero in times of crisis. Yet only a rare few were chosen by it.

When the sword began to resonate in Rozahan, indicating a new hero would be summoned, it felt like divine intervention—a chance for the young kingdom to gain a stronger voice among the five nations.

The first hero, however, was far from the savior they had hoped for.

Initially, the hero’s existence was concealed, known only to foreign kings and a few trusted officials. Public knowledge of the Demon King’s resurrection would have caused mass panic.

At first, the hero seemed capable, uncovering clues about the Demon King and forging bonds with companions from all five nations. But everything changed when the hero attempted to harm the princess.

What followed was a nightmare.

The companions, individuals blessed by the gods, were found to be under a powerful, twisted spell. Their minds were shattered; their wills enslaved.

The saint herself was half-mad.

The truth was undeniable: the hero had turned them into puppets for his own depraved purposes.

When confronted, the hero simply smirked and said:

“This world is for me. Isn’t that obvious? Funny how things didn’t play out exactly as I expected.”

The hero’s descent into madness shattered all trust. He killed a guard and escaped, leaving chaos in his wake.

In desperation, a second hero was summoned. Yet, the scars left by the first hero ran deep.

To prevent further atrocities, the kingdom made the second hero’s existence public, erasing all records of the first hero. The fallen saint disappeared, later revealed to have aided the hero’s escape.

Thankfully, the new saint, whose blessing had recently manifested, seemed to bring hope.

But trust was fragile.

“I spoke briefly with the new hero,” the princess said, “and Laura and Natalia seem to trust him.”

“The saint doesn’t appear to share their opinion,” the king remarked.

Distrust lingered like a shadow.

“The affection Laura and Natalia show toward the hero feels excessive,” the king continued. “And the saint’s sudden defense of him is… unusual.”

“We’ll need to keep a closer watch,” the princess agreed, though her tone was hesitant.

“In this role, there’s no room for personal feelings,” the king said firmly.

The princess fell silent.

The hero and saint would remain under suspicion, their every move scrutinized.

And somewhere out there, the fallen hero and saint still plotted.

“What are they scheming?”

It was a night steeped in unease.