The Rising of the Scythe Hero

In the end, all I had to do was get the more-or-less alive slaves to the surface — and that's where my responsibilities ended.

I wasn't planning to care about what would happen to them next. That wasn't my business. It's stupid to take responsibility for every person you save.

I'd already freed them from a fate you wouldn't wish on even your worst enemy. Everything else was up to them. After Alfred's death, the slave mark vanished from every girl.

But before I could leave this "wonderful" place, I had to collect the thing I started this whole mess for.

"Yeah… Doesn't look great."

The dragon core was about the size of a grown man's fist. Normally, it was probably supposed to be red, but now it looked like it had started… rotting, covered in black and purple blotches.

Which made me unsure if feeding that thing to Scythe was a good idea. So I tossed it into my belt pouch for now — I'll try to find a way to purify it later. Holy water might be worth a shot, who knows. Then again, saying that here might not sound very appropriate, huh?

Upstairs, in the tavern itself, Night was already waiting for me — along with the tavern owner, Orb, quietly sitting at the bar. Oddly enough, he was sitting on the customer's side, sipping some drink with a gloomy expression, chatting with my bird.

By the way, most of the mess I caused had already been cleaned up — somehow. But the freed girls still looked around with visible fear and disgust at what remained.

Not that it bothered anyone else, apparently.

I stepped behind the bar, gave the shelf a quick scan, and picked something to "treat myself" with. Then I placed a second glass next to the first one and filled them both.

"On the house," I said to the bartender, who gave me a glance.

"Hmph," he grunted, downing his drink in one go.

I shrugged and did the same. That pleasant burning feeling rolled down my throat again. Too bad it looked like getting drunk wasn't happening — unless it'd take a truly astronomical amount of booze. Or… just one berry? Though yeah, I wasn't ready to test that just yet. If I manage to raise my Poison Resistance to level 5... then maybe.

"What do you plan to do next?" I asked, swirling the liquid in my freshly filled glass.

"Hah. You're not planning to kill me, right?"

"No."

"Well… You probably should've." He chuckled and shook his head. "If the guy behind Alfred comes after me, I'm in for something worse than death."

"Mmm… Lukas Blatwein, huh?" I muttered under my breath.

My drinking buddy's eyes widened so much I almost mistook them for the bottom of our glasses. What, did I say something shocking?

"He… gave you a name?"

"Yeah. Is that surprising?"

"Surprising? I'd say it's borderline impossible. People don't say that name. Not even on their deathbed. Sure, it might be over for the dead guy, but if he's got anyone he cares about… That man will make them wish they were dead."

Damn. What kind of person are you, Lukas? Then again… I probably don't care. I got what I came for, and I'm not about to keep digging in all this filth. And since I only used the Battle Scythe, which kinda looks like a spear, chances are no one's gonna peg me as the Scythe kiddo. Hopefully.

"Well… I've got my own ways of making people talk," I said, vaguely waving my hand through the air.

"I'd like to ask who you really are, but I guess you won't answer, huh?"

"Exactly." I finished off my drink and stood up. "Well, this was a nice chat, but I gotta go. You're a good man, Orb — try not to die."

"Uh… What am I supposed to do with them?" he asked, still stunned, nodding toward all the girls I'd just freed.

"Whatever you want. Unlike you, I'm not a particularly good person, so I don't like taking responsibility for my actions. Especially when I can dump it on someone else. Later."

Right before turning away, I saw Orb's eyes go unnaturally wide. Yeah… poor guy. He'll manage. Probably.

"Let's go, Night."

"Yep," the bird chirped and trotted after me.

And just as we were about to cross the tavern's threshold…

"W–wait!" I heard someone shout, followed by the sound of someone aggressively pushing their way through the crowd.

A few seconds later, the face of the same girl raised by the dragon appeared from between the people.

"Hm?"

"P–please… Take me to the mountain!" she blurted out, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching her fists.

"Huh? Why?" That one caught me off guard a bit.

"I have to… say goodbye to my father. Please, I'm begging you!" Tears welled up in her eyes again.

Hmm… I mean, it's not like it's hard for me to do. But… is it necessary? I could just teleport away right now. No problem at all.

"What do I get out of it?"

"Huh?"

Honestly, you could call me a moral degenerate. I only asked that question to mess with her. I'd already decided I was going to take her, no matter what she said.

Now that I think about it… I've done stuff like this before too.

"There are a ton of monsters up on that mountain." That's a lie — Night and I cleared most of them out not too long ago. "You could say my escort service is high-level protection. What do I get in return for taking you there?"

"I… I… Y–you already took my father's core! What more do you want?!"

"That's my trophy. Doesn't count."

"Ghh…" The girl puffed up her cheeks, groaned, tried to think of something… but couldn't come up with a word.

She could've just lied and said she knew about some secret treasure the dragon left behind.

"Alright, forget it. Let's go." I waved her over.

"Huh? What?" She blinked and looked around in confusion.

"I said let's go. We're taking you to the mountain."

"B–but… what about the payment?" She looked completely lost now.

"I was joking." I gave her the cutest smile I could manage.

And I think I actually pulled it off. Wyndia's face didn't twist in horror — instead, it flashed through an entire rainbow of emotions. Mmm… adorable.

"You… you! I–!"

She's kinda funny. And even a little cute. But she's still got nothing on Night. No contest.

"Come on already."

Without waiting for a reply, I finally stepped outside the tavern. Night followed right after me. Then, after yelling something again, Wyndia came running out too.

"This really doesn't feel like a good idea."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"See… I don't really know how to put this gently, but a dragon's body is kind of a treasure trove of valuable and useful materials…"

I really didn't know how to say it nicely. Her father's corpse had literally been taken apart, and the rest of it… I fed to Kosa. No need for her to know that part, obviously.

Which is why I had no idea what kind of goodbye she was planning to have.

"Oh… I get what you mean." The girl instantly grew sad. "People are disgusting. Especially Heroes… Oh." She suddenly slapped her hand over her mouth — not sure if she said that without thinking or realized too late.

She looked around 13 or 14, by the way. Not much older than how Night looks.

"Yeah. You're not wrong."

She looked surprised that I agreed instead of flipping out. But she didn't say anything else after that.

In total silence — broken only by the occasional strange glance Wyndia threw at Night — we made our way almost to the top of the mountain. Though toward the end, our pace slowed a lot.

Well, her pace slowed, and Night and I just matched her. She probably didn't even realize she was slowing down with every step, like she didn't actually want to reach the top.

"You know… you don't have to go all the way up there, right?"

"No… I have to."

Gotta admit, she was stubborn. If she could just turn that into actual resolve, she'd be doing great.

Somehow, we finally made it. We reached the place where all that was left of the dragon still lay.

"Father…"

Wyndia slowly walked up to the bones of her father. Yeah… it sounded as bad as it looked, and there was nothing I could do about it now.

Who would've guessed the dragon Ren killed was playing dad? That somewhere in his caves, he kept a treasure way different from what humans imagine? I sure didn't know. And neither did Ren. To him, it was just a monster to slay for XP.

And honestly, I would've thought the same. Every single one of us must've dreamed about killing a dragon at some point. It's practically a requirement for anyone dropped into a fantasy world.

Meanwhile, Wyndia just stood there, silently, staring down at what was left of her father with an empty gaze.

"Do you hate him?"

"W–what?" She snapped out of it, shaking her head.

"The Hero who killed your father. Do you hate him?"

"I… I don't know." Her face twisted with a mess of conflicting emotions. "Maybe… yeah. He took away the most important thing I had. He took away my happy life. Because of him, even if just for a short time, I was a slave. And… if not for you, I…" She actually started trembling, clearly imagining what could've happened if I hadn't shown up. "So yeah… I hate the Sword Hero."

"I see. That's fair." I paused for a moment, then got curious. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. I have nowhere to go. I spent my whole life in that cave with my father. I've never seen the world."

"I get it... Then you'd better leave Melromarc. This country isn't exactly kind to demi-humans."

"I don't think I can…" Wyndia dropped her hands — and her ears — looking totally deflated. "In his last words, Father told me to live a happy life, but… what does that even mean?"

…

I had nothing to say. I mean, I'm not exactly the guy to be giving life advice.

"Please, take me with you!" she suddenly blurted out, turning toward me with the most serious face she could manage.

"What?"

Seriously, this girl just keeps throwing me off. And it's supposed to be the other way around!

"Why would I want you?" That one I asked seriously.

Night was more than enough. Once I figure out how to upgrade her class, everything'll fall into place — I'll have a loyal, all-purpose companion who'll do whatever I say. Wyndia, though… she didn't exactly scream "useful addition."

"I–I can get stronger! Father taught me a special kind of magic — I can teach it to you! I'll be useful, I promise!"

"Hm…"

Special magic taught by a dragon? That actually did sound tempting. But still… the idea of expanding the team didn't sit quite right with me.

"I can cook, handle chores, and… A–and I… u-um… I can do a lot of other things too!"

Why are you blushing? Isn't it a bit early to be offering those kinds of services?

"I don't get it… Why are you suddenly so eager to come with us?"

"Because I have nowhere else to go…" Man, the speed at which her emotions flipped was wild. Just a second later, her ears perked up again and she raised her little fists. "And you're nice! And strong! I'm sure I'll be better off with you!"

"Yeah…" I shook my head. "That may be true, but there's one thing you got wrong." Now it was my turn to pull a sad face. "I'm not nice, Wyndia. I'm selfish."

"No, you're not—!"

"Yes, I am." I cut her off. "I only help people when I feel like it. Orb — the tavern owner — will probably die a pretty unpleasant death because of what I did. I abandoned all those freed slaves, even though they were in shock and had no idea what to do. I'm a jerk and a selfish bastard who doesn't want to take responsibility for anything."

"That... That doesn't matter!" Wyndia shook her head furiously. "You saved me, and that's a fact. That's all I need…"

"Haaah…" All I could do was let out a heavy sigh.

I had nothing left to counter with. At this point, it was either reject her flat-out… or give in. So, I guess I'll go with…

"I have one condition."

"Yeah?" Wyndia leaned forward, clearly nervous and excited.

"You have to become my slave."

"…Eh?" She froze in that excited-leaning pose. The only thing that moved was the light fading from her eyes.

"There's a reason for it. You'll understand later."

"I…" She looked into my eyes, clearly unsure. Then… "Alright! I accept!" she said like she was diving headfirst off a cliff.

"Well then… welcome to the team, dragon's daughter." I smirked and sent her a party invite, which she accepted immediately.

"Yes! U-uhh…" Then she froze again for a few seconds. "Wait, hold on… Scythe Hero?!"

"Heh-heh."

There we go. My turn to catch her off guard.

…

"Mister Nott, where are we going next?" the girl asked, eyes still closed, hands folded in a little prayer pose.

Evening was falling. In that short time, we'd managed to place the slave mark on Wyndia, sort out the basics of how things would work between us, and move away from the village. We stopped at a small hilltop clearing — from here, you could clearly see both the village and the place that had once been Wyndia's home.

It was from this spot that she said her final goodbye — to her father, and to the place she grew up in.

"We're heading to Zeltoble."

"Zeltoble? I've heard of that country somewhere, but…" The girl frowned, trying to remember.

"It's the land of mercenaries and coliseums. Legal ones… and not so legal."

"And… what are you planning to do there?" she asked, eyeing me with suspicion.

And when a grin slowly crept across my face… her ears drooped, and her whole posture deflated like a popped balloon.

"Obviously — I'm going to win every underground tournament I can get into!" I grinned from ear to ear. "And I'll finally do something I should've done a long time ago."

Wyndia stared at me even more warily. My grin only grew wider.

"I'm going to become a mercenary."