Dammit, why would Alaya do sothing like this?
Souma stopped in his tracks, feeling a dull ache in his liver.
He had originally been just an ordinary otaku, living in a world without heroic spirits.
Then he accidentally crossed over into a world where heroic spirits existed.
Back then, he was just a regular student who, on a whim, went to donate blood for free.
After donating, as Souma was about to head ho with the carton of milk they gave him, he never expected to be chosen as a Master.
Becoming a Master was one thing—there were still forty-seven candidates ahead of him, so it shouldn’t have been his turn.
But then, that Grand Order bomber Lev, with a single explosion, took out all forty-seven Masters ahead of him.
Leaving him as humanity’s only Master!
It was all fate’s arrangent—
Screw that! It was clearly Alaya trying to make things difficult for him!
From then on, Souma was forced onto the path of saving the world, becoming a savior against his will.
He walked through human history, helping heroic spirits follow the correct course of events.
He even wondered if he’d been turned into so kind of cheat-code grandpa, there to give those heroic spirits a power boost!
From Uruk to Britain, to the lands of his holand.
From the age when gods and humans coexisted, to the modern era where mystery gradually faded.
Every historical scene, every singularity bore traces of his battles.
The endless fighting had long since worn him down to the bone.
But all that was in the past now.
After completing his mission to safeguard human order, he returned to Fuyuki City, where it all began, to settle down.
From then on,
Everything returned to ordinary daily life.
Now he was 17 years old, unmarried, attending school in Academy City.
He made sure to be ho by 8 PM at the latest every day.
After helping Roya with her howork, he’d drink a glass of warm milk before bed,
Do so push-ups and stretching exercises.
Only after completely relaxing his body would he go to sleep, ensuring he slept soundly until morning.
He never carried fatigue or stress into the next day, and everyone around him said he was the picture of health.
So why did Alaya post this edited video?
He stared at the golden-haired girl in the video, countless mories flooding his mind.
"Naless Heroic Spirit" had been his codena.
A faceless hero who walked in darkness, silently saving the world—it had seed incredibly cool to his middle-school self back then.
Those cringeworthy chuunibyou days were sowhat hard to look back on.
Jeanne d’Arc had been the first target of his Human Order Preservation mission.
When she refused salvation, choosing death to awaken the ignorant masses of France...
Souma had deliberately chosen to experience the burning at the stake with her, just for a dramatic exit.
Seeing this scene now filled him with the sha of public humiliation—being watched and comnted on by countless people!
Damn it!
He’d already fulfilled his mission of preserving the Human Order. Now he just wanted to live as an ordinary high school student—why disturb his peaceful daily life?
Alaya had definitely done this on purpose, editing and exposing everything like this. Damn it!
After Souma sacrificed his own spiritual foundation to reboot the world, it had effectively erased his presence.
Wiped from the mories of all humans and heroic spirits, he’d beco a truly "Naless Heroic Spirit."
But now...
By releasing this video, Alaya had restored his "existence"—which ant it would reawaken the lost mories of those who once knew him!
If Alaya kept releasing more videos, it was only a matter of ti before all the Heroic Spirits rembered him and ca to settle their debts.
Those strange, countless grudges—just thinking about them gave him a headache.
At that mont.
His friend beside him was eyeing him suspiciously up and down.
The young man had short black hair, blue eyes, and wore black-rimd glasses, appearing tall and slender.
This was Julian Ainsworth.
"What are you staring at? I don’t swing that way!" Souma snapped irritably.
This guy should have been his enemy, but now they were the best of friends—a twisted fate, really.
Julian tilted his head slightly. "I can’t help but feel like you resemble that Naless Heroic Spirit in the video a little."
"Then hurry up and worship !"
Souma admitted it outright.
However.
Most of the ti, even when you tell the truth, people won’t believe you.
Julian adjusted his glasses. "Mortal intellect. With your otaku lifestyle, if you could beco a Heroic Spirit, then I’d already be invincible."
"Tch, suit yourself. Don’t co crying to later." Souma didn’t bother explaining further.
This was a little trick of his.
The more openly you acted, the less likely others were to suspect you.
Right now, the only question was—
Had Jeanne d’Arc rembered everything they’d been through together after watching the video?
If she had, who knew what she might do...
Just then.
Julian suddenly spoke up in surprise. "It seems the French governnt is about to issue an official response to the video!"
"That fast?"
Souma was slightly taken aback.
The video had been up for less than two hours. Given how lazy Europeans were, they should’ve taken at least a few days.
Could it be... that the Emperor of France had truly rembered everything?
...
Palace of Versailles.
Originally, the French presidential residence was the Élysée Palace.
But after the arrival of the Holy Maiden Jeanne d’Arc, she had forcefully taken over Versailles, turning it into her imperial palace.
With a 99% approval rating, no one dared to argue with Her Majesty.
Inside the opulent palace.
Her Majesty wore a pitch-black cloak, her silver-gray hair adorned with a horseshoe-shaped ornant.
Her amber eyes swept aimlessly across the assembly below.
The once-noisy parliant mbers now only dared to whisper under her gaze.
Even stealing a glance at her filled them with nothing but reverence and awe.
Twelve holy knights—n and won alike—stood solemnly on either side of her, clad in white-gold armor.
Except.
One knight stood out like a sore thumb.
A petite, adorable, and impossibly perfect pink-haired "girl."
While everyone else maintained a grave deanor, "she" hid in the shadow of another knight, sneakily pulling out "her" phone—likely scrolling through videos.
This was Astolfo—affectionately known as "Asto"!
One of Charlemagne’s Twelve Paladins, a famously beautiful man.
Though perhaps too beautiful.
Astolfo stared at the video title, his cute face full of astonishnt. "This is... a video about Her Majesty?"
A story of the Holy Maiden Jeanne d’Arc and a Naless Heroic Spirit—
[Chronicle of the Naless Heroic Spirit!]
[Your na may be forgotten by history, but your deeds will echo through eternity!]
"I’ll just take a peek!"
Astolfo stole a glance at Her Majesty before tapping on the video.
And then.
He watched it all the way to the end!
In the video, a young and powerless Holy Maiden was saved by that mighty, Naless Heroic Spirit.
The two fought side by side, leading France to victory.
But.
The French betrayed the Maiden, sending her to the stake!
That naless heroic spirit was actually willing to die with her.
Countless people were spamming comnts about romantic love and such.
But Astolfo only felt an endless chill creeping over him.
Sothing terrible was happening!
How dare these people fabricate gossip about Her Majesty!
Given Her Majesty’s iron-fisted thods, weren’t they practically begging for death?
On the throne, the Dark Maiden calmly looked at him: "Astolfo, what are you watching?"
"I-I’m watching... a little video," Astolfo replied weakly.
With unquestionable authority, she commanded: "Bring it here, let see!"
***
Hey readers!
Want to read ahead? 📖 Join my Patreon for early access to 30 advance Chapters! Your support helps write more and bring the story to you faster.
🔹patreon/aarvan🔹
Reviews
All reviews (0)