I Woke Up and Became a National Hero (1)
Behemoth mewled softly and hopped up onto his lap.
The weather had already turned chilly with autumn's arrival, and the cat's warmth was like a cozy stove.
Leaning against the headboard, Cleio blinked drowsily with hazy eyes.
When his vision finally came into focus, what he saw was bizarre.
The second-floor left-end bedroom of the Aser mansion — his own familiar room — was buried under extravagant flower baskets.
What's with all the flowers?
Before he could even question it, the bedroom door burst open with a thunderous force.
Bang!
The one who charged in was a burly young man, easily over two meters tall.
"Sir, you're awake!!!"
The booming, deep voice made Cleio's head ring.
"…Who are you, exactly? And what are you doing here?"
"My apologies!!! I should have introduced myself sooner. I am Swain Temple, knight of the Royal Capital Defense Corps! I was dispatched to serve as Sir Cleio Aser's bodyguard. It is a joy to see you awake!!!"
"Uh… could you lower your voice a bit? My head's throbbing."
"My apologies!!! I was simply overjoyed to feel the Mage's aura returning! But never mind that — I must summon others at once. Please wait here a moment."
Cleio stared blankly at the still-open door.
As soon as Swain made a commotion, Mrs. Canton and Dione appeared as though they'd been waiting outside.
Both looked haggard, like they hadn't slept in days, which made Cleio feel a twinge of guilt.
Mrs. Canton summoned a doctor, who examined Cleio but found nothing wrong. His body felt merely languid, as if from a deep, refreshing sleep.
Well, it's not like I was injured — just sore muscles and ether depletion.
Once Mrs. Canton confirmed his condition, she hurried off to prepare food, while Swain left to report to the palace.
Taking advantage of the quiet, Dione slipped close to the bed and whispered,
"The court physician and even the capital's chief sorcerer came on the first day. You only collapsed from ether exhaustion, but they were talking about monitoring your condition and almost dragged you off to the palace! Those research mages—half-mad with excitement just because a monster showed up!"
"But somehow you managed to bring me home."
"Because Zebedi, the royal arcane inspector who arrived first, swished his robe and said you should rest at home. Once he cast [Cleanse] and [Purify], there wasn't much else to do. Still, the Defense Corps refused to leave—so that big knight's been guarding your room."
"You've all gone through quite a bit."
"Save the compliments for later. First, the magic stones from the monster—you were clutching them too tightly for the knights to notice, so I tucked them in the bedside drawer. If the royal mages find out, they'll confiscate them for 'research,' and who knows when you'd get them back…"
"You've done perfectly, Lady Dione."
If he'd lost those magic stones—capable of projecting magic formulas even outside a circle—he'd have lost sleep for weeks.
"I should be thanking you. You're the reason I'm still alive! But I do have one question—why'd you drag the monster so far away? The spot where you killed it was on the border between Rundane City and Selva Province."
"To minimize civilian casualties… not that you'll believe me."
"You're not that type of person."
"You've got me figured out."
"Anyway, that area's sealed off now. Every mage in the Defense Corps rushed there cheering, so the investigation won't be done anytime soon."
Those research mages are acting exactly like in the last report. Good thing I lured the beast away.
Cleio smiled, satisfied.
All that suffering had been worth it—his land was safe.
Dione, noticing his expression, gave him a knowing, conspiratorial grin.
"So you predicted this, didn't you? I was wondering why you suddenly lured the monster away after holding it off with barriers…"
"I can't say for certain, but you've guessed most of it correctly, Lady Dione."
"Ha! That's more like it—just what I expect from my partner. Now, let's go over what happened while you were out. First, all those flowers were sent by His Highness the Crown Prince, a few nobles, members of the House of Commons and the House of Lords, and even some local residents."
"The incident was only four days ago, and it's already gotten this extravagant?"
"What do you mean 'already'? The real fuss hasn't even begun."
Turning briskly, Dione gathered the pile of newspapers and weeklies stacked on the desk and spread them over the bed.
From gaudy tabloids to pompous royalist papers and even leftist journals—their front pages and covers were nearly identical.
[Magic! Legend! Hero!]
[Magic of a New Age, Hope of a New Generation! — Seventeen-Year-Old Boy Defeats Monster]
[Who Is the Man Who Crushed the Monster's Threat?]
Cleio gingerly picked up the top newspaper with his fingertips, as though touching something cursed. Halfway through reading the article, he wanted to erase his own memory.
"Sir Swain of the Royal Capital Defense Corps stated,
'His magic was a miracle! A magnificent brilliance struck from the heavens, piercing the vile beast as if to deliver divine punishment. Its sheer intensity defies description….'"
"Mraaaow—pfft! (I can't! This is too much! How are you ever going to show your face again? Ahahaha!)"
Behemoth, perched in Cleio's arms, bared his teeth in laughter, his body trembling with amusement.
When Cleio tried to roll up the newspaper in embarrassment, a firm paw slapped it flat again.
"Oh my, Behemoth's reading too? Isn't your master's fame incredible?"
Caught between the girl and the cat, Cleio could only awkwardly read the article aloud.
"He scanned the shop, where everyone was frozen in fear, and then—he dashed straight at the monster alone! That dreadful creature was thrashing to attack the people inside the café! His eyes burned with resolve! It was such a heroic act that I couldn't stop my tears…."
— Mark Gillier, 46, shop owner
And so on. All the articles were equally mortifying. Cleio's ears flushed red.
The café owner had been cowering behind the counter—when had he ever seen Cleio's "eyes burning with resolve"?
Isn't there some kind of press arbitration committee to stop this nonsense?
After a long stretch of peace, the people—starved for excitement—seemed to have found their entertainment in the story of a young mage who defeated a monster.
"Is it because you're embarrassed? You haven't even tasted the sweetest cream yet! Hurry and read the Clarion article too. It's an ultra-left republican magazine, and it's rare for them to share the same opinion as the Rundane Standard, you know!"
Still laughing, Dione thrust an oversized weekly magazine under his nose.
[The Good Performed by an Ordinary Human — The Life of the Poor Is Sacred Too.
A Boy Stands for the Outcast and the Ruined.
by Gibril Blanche]
Unbelievable. I just wanted to protect my land!
The excessive praise made his face twist with discomfort. This was an unintended side effect Cleio hadn't anticipated.
"How does it feel, waking up famous all of a sudden?"
"Does fame put food on the table? All it does is stir up gossip. It's irritating."
"Fame and honor always chase those who avoid them, and flee from those who seek them. What can you do?"
"Well, at least there's one silver lining. With this illustration, no one will recognize me on the street."
The grand five-column illustration on the front page showed a dramatic standoff between a vicious monster and a tall, handsome young man.
The young mage in the drawing, robe billowing and wand outstretched, was both elegant and heroic.
Nice fantasy art. In reality, I was in a morning coat swinging your parasol, not a wand. And that wolf, Vargh, wasn't nearly that grotesque.
After finally escaping the cat's insistence on reading more, Cleio crumpled the newspaper and tossed it onto the floor.
Seeing his mortified expression, Dione's smile faded slightly.
"What's the use pretending otherwise? You're now the hero who defended the capital with his own life. You'll have to act the part next time you leave the mansion."
"'Act the part'? What does that mean?"
"Once you've recovered, you'll need to send thank-you notes for all those flowers and gifts."
"I won't."
"People will call you rude."
"I am rude. Always have been, always will be."
"Don't you think your father might feel differently?"
"My father?"
"Of course I contacted him — how could I not, with all this uproar? He's just returned from the trade route at Centrum and hasn't left yet, but he said he'll be coming to the capital this week!"
"What's he even coming for?"
"To praise your great achievement, perhaps?"
Praise, my ass. Unless he's handing over the deed to this mansion, there's no reason to see him.
***
Mrs. Canton later brought porridge with figs and syrup and a cup of warm herbal tea — a meal to soothe an empty stomach.
Even though the chief mage of the Capital Defense Corps had cast [Cleanse] on him after the inspection, Cleio still felt grimy from being drenched in monster blood and took his time bathing.
At his request, all the flowers and clutter were cleared from the room during his bath.
Feeling refreshed on clean sheets, Cleio idly rolled a fragment of mica-like magic stone in his hand.
According to the previous draft of the manuscript, this should have gone to Asher.
Of course, he had no intention of returning it.
We'll be working together anyway. I'll use half for the original purpose and keep half for myself. I can handle things without using them all.
He wrapped the magic stone in a handkerchief and slipped it into the inner pocket of his school uniform jacket hanging in the wardrobe. He thought he should buy a spatial wallet instead of his current spatial pouch.
And this unique skill…
While lying down, he lifted his right hand and let ether flow through it.
A metallic blue rectangular line shimmered faintly above the back of his hand.
"Promise" displayed the familiar string of text.
[Unique Skill: "Editor's Authority" (3/3)]
The ether soon dissipated, the mark faded, and the golden letters vanished.
"Editor's Authority."
A power that seemed capable of changing everything—
and yet, perhaps, could change nothing at all.
A flawed authority usable only to fulfill the will of the Author.
That was the reason for Cleio Aser's—or rather, Kim Jeongjin's—existence.
He had gained wealth, magic, and now, even if temporarily, fame.
It was impossible to believe that none of this was the Author's doing.
The more he received from this world, the heavier his heart grew. It felt like an unspoken order to work harder.
Damn author… if you want something, at least leave a post-it note or something. Sure, it's obvious Asher becoming king is the fixed ending, but beyond that? Nothing. What part of the last draft did you hate so much that you had to rewrite the whole thing again?
The task before Cleio was both difficult and obscure.
First, among the changes in the final manuscript, there was no way to tell which were deliberate revisions by the Author, and which were inconsistencies born from the instability of the text itself.
The manuscript came with no annotations or notes whatsoever.
He was the first interpreter of the script—
and it was his job to infer and elucidate the Author's intent.
A mistaken interpretation could quite literally bring this world to ruin.
What a ridiculous role I've been given… sigh…
Compared to that responsibility, all the commotion about being the capital's "hero" meant nothing.
A boy who killed a single monster—people would soon forget him.
Vargh's appearance was only the beginning of what was yet to come.
The good days never last long, huh.
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