This World Needs a Hero

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[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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Rain fell intermittently.

The season stood on the border between late autumn and winter.

Cold air, a cool-toned sky, thickening clouds.

Rosenstark was steadily approaching the end of the semester.

In two weeks, it would be finals.

Then, straight to winter break.

The children were busy preparing to wrap up the year.

… And recently, it had been a busy time for any professor, no less than for the students.

Labin Hawk.

Until recently, his life had been quite monotonous.

He would wake up early in the morning for a brief training session.

Then, prepare and deliver lectures.

In the evenings, he would drink alone in his office before going to sleep.

That was it.

‘What else is there to do?’

His beloved wife died during childbirth.

His only daughter also perished on the battlefield.

There was no longer any drive to push Labin’s life forward.

The only thing that remained was a sense of responsibility, even amidst all this pain, to give his best in teaching.

‘It’s more like slowly dying than living.’

Labin was in such a detached state that he could express such pessimistic thoughts without hesitation.

However, recently, Labin’s routine had become considerably more complicated due to two changes.

The first was Zion’s visits.

They had occasionally exchanged letters before.

Perhaps she had guessed his dire state as a former academy colleague.

Since coming to Rosenstark, she would visit him once a day for tea time.

From reminiscing about the past to discussing swordsmanship.

Various topics about the Hero, even trivialities about her granddaughter.

The topics were diverse.

Labin found it a bit odd.

“…Aren’t you supposed to return to the capital?”

“I’m planning to stay in Rosenstark for a while.”

“I heard Her Majesty asked you to return to the capital.”

“To be precise, she asked me to ‘protect what needs to be protected.’ In my opinion, there are more things to protect here than at the capital.”

Zion chuckled lightly.

Her reconciliation with her granddaughter seemed to have brought her not only daily happiness but also a sense of ease.

It was a moment when Labin found it pleasing to smile.

Zion abruptly brought up a sensitive topic.

“So, have you forgiven?”

“…?”

“Have you forgiven him?”

A moment of silence.

The subject was omitted, but there was no problem understanding.

Labin bluntly replied.

“…Forgiven for what? Forgiveness is something needed by the one who has done wrong.”

Zion laughed heartily.

“Oh, Ted should hear this warm response himself.”

Labin clicked his tongue.

“…What does it matter to you? If someone hears, they might think Ted is your grandson.”

“It might seem awkward for someone who treated him like a real grandson.”

Labin’s expression crumpled.

In social circles, she moved her tongue as gracefully as her sword moved in battle, just like her old classmates would be amazed to see.

‘It would be amusing for my old classmates to see this.’

In fact, during their school days, Zion resembled Leciel so much it was astonishing.

A quiet girl dedicated solely to the sword.

Her charm was enhanced by her beauty and background, and her popularity soared.

How many male students lost sleep over her.

When news of her marriage spread, the alumni association was like a portrait gallery.

…Now, seeing her teasing him, Labin felt the passage of time, but…

“You seem to get along very well with your granddaughter. You acted like you’d never reconcile in your lifetime.”

“I didn’t do anything; it’s all thanks to Ted and Leciel.”

“…Thanks to Ted.”

“Didn’t he become a great teacher while her grandmother acted foolishly?”

Labin’s second silence followed.

‘A great teacher.’

Those words brought back old memories.

“Professor, I’m sorry.”

Ted, dressed neatly, came on a day when rain fell lonely like today.

The only difference from today was that it was not late autumn but midsummer.

In his hand was Dahlia’s hairpin covered in dirt.

It was something she always tied to her sword hilt.

“Get out.”

“….”

“I said get out of my sight. I have never regretted having you as a disciple as much as today.”

Even hearing such words, Ted’s expression remained unchanged.

Such composure was once a proud aspect, but…

At that time, Labin found it too hateful.

Hatred.

It wasn’t justified, but it couldn’t be helped.

Because of this, Labin didn’t realize until Ted said his farewell that the cuffs of his pants were soaked, as if he had knelt and cried for a long time.

[TL/N: Damn.]

[PR/N: Author def has some personal vendetta against og Ted, holy shit dude how is his story so sad.]

“Even if you no longer consider me your disciple, I will remember you as a great teacher.”

After that, news of victories, glories, and fierce battles came intermittently.

And finally, Ted returned to the academy as a professor.

Labin was engulfed in complex emotions several times a day.

Anger, longing, tenderness, resentment.

But as time passed, Labin couldn’t deny that Ted had become a great teacher.

‘He showed a direction for the children, a path they should aspire to.’

The statement that Labin would consider him a good teacher until the end was not a lie.

Whenever Labin observed Ted approaching his professorship with affection, just as Labin had done to Ted, he felt as if the long suffering had been rewarded.

‘…A beacon.’

People turned towards where Ted shone.

Where he shone was always the right path.

No matter how fierce the storm, no matter how dark and rough the night sea, they would forget everything and follow the path he suggested.

Dahlia was unfortunately just a ship that was wrecked on the way.

Finally, Labin admitted that fact and… had no choice but to forgive, not resent.

…So he had helped with the Hero’s training, and before he left for ‘treatment,’ he had accepted the request that he brought.

“There might be a traitor among the members?”

It was a fact that was hard to believe.

“And you want me to help track them down?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Before I accept, honestly, I’m not sure what help I can provide.”

If he was already a Hero, he would be making every effort to find the traitor in various ways.

Labin was skeptical about what would change with his added help, if anything, to the efforts to find the traitor.

“Of course, I’m not relying solely on you, Professor. I’ve set up my own surveillance system. But…”

“But?”

“Professor, you’re a kind of ‘wild card.'”

No one would have thought that Labin, who had a poor relationship with the Hero, would move at the Hero’s request.

“You might even be able to find loopholes.”

Perhaps Labin could capture any gaps.

“After observing the changes in the ‘academy.'”

“…Changes in the academy? It’s unusual for your request to be so vague and ambiguous.”

“Haven’t you experienced the Rosentark invasion once before?”

Labin stiffened at those words.

It was when Ted was still an undergraduate and he was a young professor.

There had been an occasion when a special unit of the demon army had ambushed Rosenstark.

At that time, Rosenstark, which was not yet stable in the west, had not prepared, and suffered enormous damage.

There were graves of sincere professors and students on one side of the academy.

“There are signs before everything happens. If the traitor is going to harm Rosenstark, there will be changes observed in some way.”

There was no guarantee that there would be clear evidence or findings at the scene.

The possibility of relying on intuition was also high.

The Hero paid attention to that aspect.

“I think Professor Labin, who has been immersed in Rosenstark for decades, is one of the few people who can notice that.”

Since that request, there had been a significant change in Labin’s monotonous daily life.

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[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Join our Discord for release updates!

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An ‘undercover’ operation was added.

Of course, even a week after the Hero left, Rosenstark remained peaceful, not showing any signs.

But Labin, who had been lethargic, regained a strange vitality.

‘Damn it. Making an old teacher like me do such a weird task.’

Labin grumbled as he got up from his seat when the designated time arrived.

Zion saw him off with a gentle smile.

It seemed she was planning to linger in his office even after he left, preparing for the master’s departure.

“The affection between the teacher and student is very nice, Labin.”

“…Just like affection between a grandchild and grandmother.”

Swoosh—

Labin, wearing a raincoat, left the office.

Since today was a day without lectures, he planned to visit all the way from the market to the outskirts of the academy.

* * *

The doppleganger does not dream.

Of course, Homunculus is the same.

Sometimes Rosalyn takes the form of ‘sleep’ as a form of magical recharge, but strictly speaking, this is closer to ‘functional suspension’ than sleep.

In fact, he didn’t even need such a process.

A consciousness that remains clear 24 hours a day.

All thoughts were made under that control.

It was a condition that humans would have gone crazy with, but he was unscathed.

Sometimes, when he felt like he might overload his mind, he closed his eyes and took a little rest, and it would be okay.

Perhaps it was due to the miraculous recovery power derived from the essence of the doppelganger.

Therefore, this blackout of consciousness was… a very unusual event for him.

Whoosh—

The world quietly receded.

The images and sounds of reality attached to the last edge of consciousness—the fake Maktania turning into Theo, screaming Izaro and real Maktania—quickly faded and soon disappeared.

At some point, his body felt weightless.

It felt like rising, sinking, and sometimes being caught in a whirlpool.

Countless senses and experiences collided and overlapped, causing dizziness.

‘Is this… a dream?’

Humans go through such complex and chaotic processes every day, don’t they?

He rolled his tongue, looking at the images passing before his eyes.

‘Terrible.’

He had once envied the ability to dream.

He had such thoughts when Ted, exhausted from battles, stretched out in his hideout.

Although he was always tormented by stress and fatigue, during dreams, he seemed to be free from all that burden.

Of course, he didn’t readily reveal what kind of dream he was having.

But seeing his boyish smile and relaxed expression during sleep made it easy to guess the content.

Because of that, he couldn’t help but be curious.

‘If I were to dream, what kind of dream would it be?’

And finally,

He could face that answer.

He stared straight ahead.

‘…Izaro?’

No, not Izaro.

‘It’s Zero.’

A younger version of him than now.

The face is similarly wrinkled, but the color of the beard and hair is a bit darker.

But he was definitely older than what I had seen in previous memories.

He slowly approached me.

…No, it felt as if I was being drawn towards him.

It felt like space was moving around him as the center.

His deep and clear eyes looked at me.

‘This is… a gap in memory.’

From my creation to the first cloning.

Lost memories in their entirety.

This dream is just a part of it.

It was the first time I had seen my body floating in the pale liquid of the bio-reactor.

Swoosh—

Beyond the hazy view.

Zero’s wrinkled hand brushed against the glass surface.

“■■.”

“……”

“Please forgive me.”

…Forgiveness?

I hardened.

‘Weren’t you supposed to hate and guard against me?’

‘He’ who stole everything from Zero.

He is the Homunculus born from accepting that entity.

So why forgiveness?

He naturally raised doubts at the word that didn’t fit the context.

But Zero continued to speak without paying attention to it.

“I’ll take resentment or hatred sweetly. But this is necessary. We can’t repeat this tragedy twice.”

Surprisingly, Zero’s eyes, as he said that, were filled with guilt.

He hadn’t yet grasped his meaning.

“Let’s meet again at the end.”

▼

Memory restoration initiated.

▲

▼

Understanding of Zero Requiem Borningenheim deepens.

Understanding level: 10/100 -> 20/100

*However, the subject cannot be replicated.

▲

The sudden feeling of heaviness on his eyelids, which he hadn’t noticed, seemed to be the moment when he understood what Zero’s words meant.

Suddenly, everything shook, and all objects in sight became blurred and mixed up.

As if pouring paint directly onto a painting, the world of dreams was engulfed in overwhelming colors.

“Ah.”

The sensation of waking up.

There was a piercing sound in my ears.

“You’re awake! Finally!”

“…It’s fortunate that it’s not too late.”

“Are you in a state to move right away?”

“Now is not the time to determine feasibility. He needs to move.”

As the gravity of the real world pressed against my body again, I got up.

“…How many days was I unconscious?”

“Four days.”

Before asking the next question, I needed to take a deep breath.

It was because Izaro’s expression was not words.

Tightly drawn eye bags from tension.

Thinly pressed lips were trembling.

An unmistakable sense of urgency emanated from him.

“What happened?”

Izaro grimly opened his mouth.

“Rosenstark has been invaded.”

It was time to go back.

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[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

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