Chapter 43

In front of us, the enemy boss—a crest mage accompanied by super-strong lizardmen—suddenly appeared.

"So, which one of you is the skilled magician?"

The skilled magician—

It seems the crest mage is looking for someone. Confused, everyone's gaze converges.

...It looks like he wants me to answer.

In this team, there is only one person who could be the skilled magician.

A teacher at the academy, he possesses sharp insight and judgment, and can easily manipulate the highly destructive Fireball.

"That would be Filbus over there."

"Wh-What!? Me!?"

Filbus's body trembled as he looked at me.

The others also murmured in surprise.

...Hmm. Whether it's humility or insensitivity, I can't quite tell, but his words can sound annoying if taken too far—I understand Filbus well.

"Among the magicians here, you are the one with the highest rank, Filbus. As a teacher and a student, I always admire your high level of skill."

"Oh, oh... a, a, thank you..."

Filbus said, his eyes darting around.

The crest mage licked his lips.

"Is that so... you, huh..."

"Wh-Wh-Wh-What do you mean... w-well, I-I suppose I am a fairly skilled magician, but—"

Filbus, visibly shaken, kept glancing at me.

Perhaps he's trying to tell me to take charge and let him go.

As expected of Filbus, he may seem frivolous, but he has a strong sense of responsibility as a teacher.

Filbus, I have received your message.

"Hahahaha! Fine! I'll spare the rest of your lives! Take this and return to your base!"

With that, the crest mage threw a sword to our side.

The sword—broken in half.

The moment I saw it, I couldn't help but gasp.

Two crests were engraved on the hilt.

The crest of my family, the Luminas, and the royal family.

This must have been granted by the king. Very few people can possess such an item. It must have been someone who earned the king's trust—

Why does the lizardman leader have it?

What does this mean...?

An invisible hand tightened around my throat. It was hard to breathe. Still, I couldn't help but speak.

"...Whose is this?"

"Your general's... what was his name? He called himself Alenzia or something?"

Instantly, the atmosphere around us shattered.

Rihlt was the first to speak.

"Wh-What are you saying! You, liar! Why do you, the enemy, have the general's sword!?"

"Huh? Because I killed him, of course?"

Those words engulfed us like a storm.

Alenzia, dead?

The crest mage continued to laugh, seemingly amused by our reactions.

"The general himself came to the village to try to take my head—what a dreamy and foolish plan for a noble! He couldn't even tell the difference between wishful thinking and strategy!"

"Lies! Lies! Lies! Lies!"

Rihlt shouted.

"This is a strategy to unsettle us! We mustn't listen!"

Rihlt's words helped calm the surroundings a bit.

But not me.

An uncomfortable thought spread through my mind.

That sword is undoubtedly Alenzia's.

Alenzia, in his overconfidence—would come up with such an adventurous plan.

A chill spread through my back.

I alone knew that the crest mage's words were true.

Alenzia really is dead—

The crest mage shrugged.

"Believe it or not, it doesn't matter. Show that sword to the bigwigs at your base, and someone will recognize it. You've lost. Retreat your army quickly."

"We won't fall for such a ruse!"

As Rihlt said this,

"...You're noisy."

The crest mage glared at him.

"I was thinking of letting you go if you left quietly... but, do you find it hard to abandon your fellow magician? Alright, I'll kill one of you."

The crest mage pointed at Rihlt.

"Do it."

Immediately, one of the super-strong lizardmen attacked Rihlt at an arrow-like speed.

"Ugh!"

In the next moment, Rihlt was sent flying backward. It was a blow that could have killed him—

"Guh, gah!"

Rihlt was writhing on the ground. He had barely managed to block the attack with his sword. ...The sword was shattered to pieces...

"Tough! Here, the finishing blow!"

At the crest mage's command, the lizardman moved to attack again—

"Magic Arrow"

With a thunderous sound, the super-strong lizardman was blasted away.

Nothing had changed. My single strike killed the lizardman.

"Wh-What!?"

For the first time, the crest mage showed signs of unease.

"Sorry... but the conversation isn't over yet."

I stared at the crest mage's face.

Understanding the situation, a smile appeared on the crest mage's face.

"...You! You're the White Arrow Magician!?"

White Arrow?

Magic Arrow is indeed a white arrow, but it seems the crest mage was looking for another magician besides the "skilled magician."

"...Ah, right."

"What, you?"

The crest mage said with a delighted voice. I forcibly changed the topic, not intending to continue the conversation.

"Let me ask one thing. Why the sword? Wouldn't it be faster to bring the head?"

That would be the ultimate proof. It would be easier to convince others. There must be a reason he couldn't do that. Maybe Alenzia is still alive—

"Sorry... but it's not possible."

The crest mage laughed casually.

"One of the overconfident lizardmen stomped on his head. Plus, they all ganged up and cut him to pieces, so it's impossible to tell whose body it is."

The crest mage added, as if just realizing something.

"Actually, there's no body left. Lizardmen are omnivores. The body of a noble, who only ate the best, was a feast. They all said, 'Let's have it!' Now, it's probably lizardman poop!"

The crest mage continued to laugh.

"What a great end! He was shouting, 'I'm a noble! I shouldn't die here!' until the end, but now his face is stomped into the ground and he's lizardman poop! What a promotion! Life is good!"

The crest mage's laughter echoed.

I listened with no emotion.

I couldn't understand my own heart.

Normally, I should be angry.

My kin, my brother, was killed.

But, there were too many cold events between us for me to feel that anger.

Ten years ago, the cold eyes that looked down on me when I returned, the sneer on his lips.

—Nice to meet you, Albert.

The cruel words he said after a ten-year absence.

His failure, his tragic death.

A dark pleasure welled up from the depths of my heart. If I indulged in it, it would surely feel good.

My heart—

With a thin smile—

"...Mr. Albert."

At that moment, someone touched my right arm.

It was Rora.

Rora was looking at me with a worried expression. She knew I was Alenzia's brother.

She was worried about me.

Rora's eyes were very sincere. They were the eyes of someone mourning the death of a family member.

Ah, right.

Rora's straightforward words resonated in my heart.

—I believe in you more than anyone, Mr. Albert!

And I had responded.

For Rora, who believed in me as a hero—

To become a hero.

The dark joy that had seeped into my heart began to fade. A hero shouldn't have such a heart. Rora wouldn't want that.

I want to be—

A hero that Rora can be proud of. A hero worthy of her trust.

So—

I will be angry.

I'm not sure if it's the right emotion. I'm not sure if others will understand.

I'm not even sure myself.

But, I want to be someone who can feel anger. Someone who can feel anger at the fact that my kin was killed and their death was mocked—no matter how cold the past may have been.

At least—

—Brother, you're amazing. I want to be like you.

A long, long time ago.

We did have good times as brothers.

It's not a lie.

I don't want to taint those memories with resentment.

So, I will be angry.

"Thank you, Rora."

I patted R