Chapter 3
I never wished for much. I just wanted to live an ordinary life.
I loved those peaceful, uneventful days—devoting myself to each passing mont, even if they were dull.
From ti to ti, unfamiliar mories would surface.
Images of myself living another life, not as the ‘’ of this world but as soone in a completely different one.
Those fragnted mories were the driving force that allowed to live more earnestly in this world. What I was in those mories, and what kind of world that was, never really mattered. They never ca back vividly enough for to know.
All that mattered was that they made realize this life I’d been given might be a new chance—one I should cherish even more.
I decided to live each mont doing my best.
So I would have no regrets.
However, that wish beca aningless the mont I heard the voice of a god. My hope for a normal life drifted far away.
“Van Descartes.”
The instant I heard the voice, I knew. The being speaking to was not human.
It was an existence far beyond the comprehension of mankind.
We called such beings gods.
“……”
Yet, for so reason, what I felt was not awe or reverence—but discomfort toward the unknown.
“There’s no need to be so wary.”
For a being called a ‘god,’ reading the mind of a re creation like would surely be nothing difficult.
Two pure white wings, hair of radiant gold, and a faint halo that shimred softly—she appeared exactly like the ideal image of a goddess I had always pictured unconsciously.
A warm and benevolent goddess.
Perhaps gods really did appear in the form that humans imagined them to be.
I couldn’t see her face clearly because of the halo, but she seed to be smiling.
“I’ve revealed myself to you directly because I have a proposal for you.”
“…And this proposal—is it sothing soone like actually gets to choose?”
In that mont, I felt as though my whole body froze.
It seed that what I had just said displeased her.
The chill wrapping around soon vanished, but her tone still carried clear irritation.
“Of course. I’m rely making an offer. The choice will always be yours.”
“Then I’ll listen before I decide.”
I said I would decide after hearing her out, but truthfully, I was already content with my life.
A small rural village tucked away in a remote corner of the empire.
It was a tiny settlent of fewer than two hundred people, but I lived each day there to the fullest.
Sotis I went fishing, sotis foraging. We hunted together, shared small festivals from ti to ti—a perfectly ordinary, peaceful life.
This was the very life I had longed and yearned for.
“Van Descartes. I appoint you as a Hero.”
A Hero…
One chosen to bear the destiny of saving the world.
I had heard that heroes were born as humanity’s hope, chosen by the gods themselves.
“I refuse.”
“…May I ask why you would refuse?”
“I’m fully satisfied with the life I have now. That’s why I wish to live normally, and die normally.”
“You must already know that if you beco a Hero, you’ll gain power beyond anything you can imagine. Moreover, soone like you—who possesses such rare qualities—would receive the blessing of the gods themselves. You’d beco the strongest among all heroes in history… And yet you refuse? Just to live as a villager in so remote corner of the empire?”
“That’s right.”
The divine blessing granted to heroes—
A miraculous gift said to turn even an ordinary man with no talent into the strongest of humankind.
But that wasn’t what I wanted.
“I can’t comprehend it. If you fulfill the mission given to a Hero, you’ll gain wealth, honor, and even the peace you desire. Are you truly saying you’ll throw all that away just for a simple, ordinary life?”
“That’s right.”
“Are you confident you won’t regret that choice?”
“Yes.”
──A silence fell between us.
“Very well. Then, the Hero for this era shall be chosen elsewhere.”
“Thank you for respecting my decision.”
“Just rember—I did give you the chance to choose. Farewell.”
As the goddess vanished, the surroundings were swallowed by darkness.
---
I had a disturbing dream.
“Young master, are you all right?”
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Cecil. She looked at with her usual expressionless face that showed no emotion, but her voice carried a trace of concern. Glancing around, I realized I was in my bedroom.
“…Cecil. What happened?”
“After your duel with Young Lord Legion, you suddenly lost consciousness and collapsed.”
I raised my upper body and rotated my arms to check my condition. My muscles scread in pain, likely from overexertion.
“How long was I unconscious?”
“Exactly one full day.”
So, I had overstrained myself and lost an entire day.
‘I need to focus on recovering first.’
Knock, knock.
Right then, soone knocked on the door.
“Young master, it’s Turk. May I co in?”
“Co in.”
The door opened, and an elderly man with neatly combed white hair entered, dressed impeccably.
It was the head butler of the Winterbell Ducal Family—
Turk Winterbell.
Though not of the family’s bloodline, he was a self-made man who had been granted the family na—an unprecedented honor in its history.
As the closest aide to Arkan Winterbell, Duke of the North and head of the Winterbell family, Turk wielded considerable influence.
For soone of his position—who would never appear without a significant reason—to co to personally was unusual.
“What brings you here, Turk?”
“The Duke has returned after subjugating the monsters.”
That was unexpected news.
The head of the family, Arkan Winterbell, had left to subjugate a calamity-class monster that had appeared in the Great Western Forest.
The expected ti for the campaign and return had been estimated at about two months.
Yet, he had returned after subjugating the monster in less than a month.
‘As expected of the man hailed as the strongest swordsman on the continent…’
Among the four individuals always nad in debates about the greatest on the continent, Arkan Winterbell, the ruler of the North, was one of them.
Moreover, since Turk had personally co to find , it was clear this wasn’t rely to inform of my father’s return.
“That’s good news. Is that all you ca to say?”
Turk’s gaze fixed on .
Those dark eyes—deep as a silent night—seed to search within , as if trying to read sothing hidden.
“…You seem different sohow, young master.”
“Do I?”
A master warrior’s perception differed greatly from that of ordinary people. With senses honed to the extre, they could feel things unseen and unheard. Perhaps Turk, too, had sensed so kind of unfamiliarity about .
“Yes. Your eyes have changed. To put it taphorically… it’s as though you’ve beco a battle-hardened veteran who’s seen and survived countless wars. Curious indeed. Did sothing happen while I was away?”
“…Nothing at all. Everything’s the sa as ever.”
Sharp old man.
After a brief silence, Turk spoke again.
“…Well, if that’s the case, I won’t pry further. But I have one more ssage to deliver, young master.”
“What is it?”
“The Duke has ordered that you attend the dinner banquet tonight.”
“A dinner banquet, huh… What wind could have blown for Father to summon of all people?”
“As you know, I’m rely a ssenger who conveys the Duke’s orders. As for his true intentions, that’s sothing you’ll have to find out for yourself.”
A banquet.
Or rather, to put it plainly—
It was one of the regular family etings.
Only those of the Duke’s direct bloodline could attend, and conversely, anyone who attended was considered a potential successor to the headship.
Of course, ever since I beca half-paralyzed, I hadn’t been invited to a single one.
‘So Legion must have reported everything to Ron Winterbell properly.’
Arkan Winterbell had never been fond of , but after the accident, he hadn’t so much as looked my way.
If not for the recent incident involving Legion, he might have forgotten he even had a youngest son.
‘Still, there’s nothing in this household that escapes his notice.’
That was the kind of man my father was.
A cold-blooded man of iron, the kind who wouldn’t bleed even if stabbed with a needle. The day my mother passed away, he didn’t shed a single tear—he simply went back to his duties as if nothing had happened.
The absolute ruler of a household wielding near-absolute power.
To him, a child was nothing more than soone to prove his own worth—or not. Those who failed to prove their value were discarded without hesitation, left to fade away naturally through exclusion.
If sothing—or soone—was useless, he would abandon it, even if it was his own blood.
Survival of the fittest.
That was the unspoken law of the Winterbell family.
“I’ve delivered all the necessary ssages, so I’ll take my leave now.”
Turk gave a polite bow and exited the room.
“Cecil.”
“Yes, young master.”
“Prepare for the banquet.”
“Understood.”
As soone who couldn’t use my lower body, her assistance was indispensable.
With Cecil’s help, I finished getting ready, and together we left the annex.
Without a word, she silently pushed my wheelchair forward.
The quiet creak and roll of the wheels echoed softly through the heavy silence.
Why didn’t she ask anything?
Even after seeing her supposedly crippled master stand up and defeat a fourth-class knight with ease, she hadn’t voiced a single question.
Why was that?
Did she think that even asking such a thing was beyond her station?
Though there were gaps in my mory—side effects of regaining mories of my past life—one thing was certain.
She had stayed by my side for a very long ti.
That was why I couldn’t understand her even more.
I was the youngest son, crippled from the waist down, with no standing in the family.
Why serve soone like ?
‘What are you after, Cecil?’
“It’s been five years.”
“What has?”
“This is the first ti you’ve left the annex since the accident.”
“…Has it been that long?”
──The wheelchair ca to a stop.
“Young master.”
Her tone was as formal and impersonal as ever.
“Yes.”
“There’s no need to be impatient. You don’t have to trust either. I will always remain by your side, so all I ask is that you stay by mine.”
“……”
“Speak only when you wish to speak.”
It was as if she had peered straight into my heart.
“Whatever it may be.”
“…All right.”
Cecil fell silent again and began to push the wheelchair forward.
We passed through the garden and finally entered the main building.
Each ti we moved down the hallway, the servants we passed stopped in shock before hastily bowing their heads.
It was understandable—after all, a half-crippled man who hadn’t shown his face in years was suddenly rolling through the halls. They must have thought they were seeing a ghost.
I understood.
As we continued down the long corridor, the massive doors of the great hall ca into view. Standing before them were Turk and two first-class butlers.
Upon seeing , Turk knocked lightly and spoke.
“The youngest young master has arrived.”
“Let him in.”
With a loud creak, the grand doors swung open, and every gaze in the hall turned toward .
With Cecil’s help, I entered and took a deep breath before speaking in a low, steady voice.
“Ran Winterbell, candidate for the next head of the Winterbell family, greets the Duke.”
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