Chapter 1: The Thief

“Grandfather! So, what happens next?”

The children’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Normally, their attention would waver easily, but what gathered them so intently was a story from a hundred years ago—a very old tale indeed.

“I’ve heard it so many times my ears are about to fall off.”

It was a story no one in the Empire could be unaware of.

In truth, these children had likely heard the legend from their parents before, but the reason they wanted to hear it again was simply because it was that captivating.

“Ahem! Now then…”

The old man stifled a yawn as he continued the tale, encouraged by the children’s eager urging.

“The Hero finally entered the Demon King’s castle alongside his comrades.”

This was the story of the Hero.

A century ago, when the Demon King descended and threatened the domain of humanity.

In those dark days when monsters ravaged half the human territories,

“There were five who crossed the Magic Lands.”

The Hero, chosen by the Holy Sword, and the Saintess, blessed by the Goddess.

Dwarf Warrior Vulcan, endowed with the strength of steel.

The Witch, who bent fate with a mere gesture.

And the most cunning and swift of all—the Thief.

“There, the Hero confronted the Demon King himself.”

The Hero and his four companions met the Demon King in his castle.

The long-awaited clash of the century unfolded at the heart of the Magic Lands.

And as everyone guessed,

“After a long and bloody battle with great sacrifice, the Demon King was defeated.”

If the ending had been different, such peaceful times as these would never have come.

After the Demon King’s defeat, the Beasts were driven back from human lands.

Thus, a new era of prosperity dawned for mankind.

“Of course, conflicts between nations are another story.”

Humans are creatures who seek strife amongst themselves.

With the common enemy of the Demon King gone,

What remained were only each other.

“So naturally, wars between nations increased.”

It was an ironic reality that after the Demon King’s fall, humans began fighting amongst themselves even more fiercely.

But it was unnecessary to burden the children with such harsh truths.

“What happened to the Hero and his comrades afterward?”

Every story’s end invites curiosity about what followed.

The children’s curiosity turned to the lives of the five heroes after their victory.

“Their later years and final fates.”

“That’s…”

The old man began.

“The Hero, bearing the aftereffects of his fierce battle with the Demon King, journeyed to the Fairy Country to recuperate.”

The Saintess left for a remote frontier to spread the teachings of the Goddess of Light.

The sturdy Dwarf Warrior Vulcan returned to his original trade, opening a blacksmith’s forge.

The Witch founded a school, which became the present-day Imperial Magic Association.

“And the Thief?”

“That’s right! We heard about all the other heroes, but there’s nothing about the Thief!”

“Why is it just the Thief who’s missing?”

The children demanded the story of the one omitted.

The Thief, the lowest and weakest among the Hero’s group,

Yet even he had shared life and death alongside the Hero.

“Ha ha… There’s nothing known about the Thief.”

The old man’s answer widened the children’s eyes.

“Really!?”

“Did he go back to thieving or something?”

“But he was still a comrade of the Hero—there’s no record at all?”

“You’re not going to start charging us now, are you?”

Insufficient answers always invite countless questions.

Children, innocent by nature, ask far more questions than they can answer.

Their barrage of questions left the old man in an awkward position.

“Ha, ha ha…”

The old man’s reaction was genuine.

He wasn’t trying to squeeze money out of them.

He simply didn’t know how to explain.

“The Thief is the least known, with the fewest records remaining.”

There is almost no record of the Thief’s life after the Hero’s adventures.

“Unlike the others.”

The Hero passed away alone after recuperating in the Fairy Country.

The Saintess spent her later years preaching to the wilderness and died of illness.

Dwarf Warrior Vulcan thrived with his blacksmith business, raising a large family and passing peacefully in their care.

“The Witch still lives as a senior figure among the Imperial mages.”

But after the Demon King’s defeat, there’s almost nothing about the Thief.

The Imperial Palace archives have a brief record of him serving as a military instructor for the kingdom’s forces.

Even that is classified as “top secret,” inaccessible to old men on the street.

“You kids! Enough bothering Grandfather, now off to school with you!”

In the end, it was a local lady who rescued the old man from his predicament.

No matter how curious they were, children cannot defy adults.

Grumbling, they turned away with disappointed steps.

“I don’t want to go to school…”

“It feels like you’ve just been cut off in the middle of a dump!”

“Should we skip school?”

“You got scolded last time and got a beating from your parents, remember?”

Once the children left, the street fell quiet again.

“Time to go.”

The train’s departure time was drawing near.

In these rural parts, the train to the Imperial Capital runs only once a day.

If missed now, it would mean staying here for a night and catching the next day’s train.

“I don’t want to waste time.”

He had old friends waiting in the capital.

No time to lose if he was to keep his appointments.

Placing the money—tip included—on the table, he stood up.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

Turning his gaze, the old man was looking his way.

Perhaps he was aware of this direction while telling the story to the children.

Thinking the old man might demand payment for the tale, he took the initiative.

“No money.”

Though he had plenty.

“Hey, who do you take me for? Some beggar?”

The old man frowned at that.

Whether he truly intended to ask for money was unclear.

But since it seemed unlikely, he asked back.

“Then what is it? I’m busy, so let’s finish quickly.”

“Look at how a young man talks to an elder… tsk tsk…”

What is he on about?

He had no time for the nonsense of an old fool.

Not even worth a reply, he turned to leave.

“Are you a soldier?”

“Huh?”

Can’t you tell with these old eyes?

“Of course.”

Clang!

A shuriken appeared from his sleeve.

“A mercenary.”

“I see…”

The old man nodded.

Mercenaries were common in this era.

The more frequent wars between nations, the greater the demand for fighters.

The old man spoke again.

“Did you hear all the stories just now?”

“I said I have no money.”

“Not that!”

The old man, looking exasperated, sighed before asking.

“What do you think?”

“Hm?”

“How the Thief from the Hero’s group lived after all.”

Why even ask?

It’s a story from a hundred years ago.

Knowing how he lived won’t help now.

“Surely he lived as he saw fit.”

“Heh… You really don’t care, do you?”

“None of my business.”

Snapping that, he headed for the train station.

Besides,

The old man did not know this.

“I am that Thief.”

The Thief from the Hero’s group had yet to die.