Chapter 4: Invitation

Lowell always worried about me and stayed by my side whenever possible, and the other companions didn’t really expect much from me either.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t helpful at all.

Even if I was the weakest among them, it was only because the others were simply too exceptional.

It didn’t mean that I was incompetent.

If I had been nothing more than a burden, Lowell or the others would have sent me home or to some safer place a long time ago.

But am I really someone special to them, like they are to each other?

Sure, I was a companion.

You could even say a friend.

After all, we had been together for a long time.

We had overcome many crises, big and small, side by side.

But could I really say that I held the same weight to them as the other companions did?

“…Of course Lowell would think so.”

Yeah.

He would.

“He’s that kind of person.”

He doesn’t discriminate.

Of course, his lover Aegina might be a bit more special, but to Lowell, I was just as precious a comrade as Medluf, Orcan, Lauti, and Baglos.

“That’s true.”

But the stiffness on my face didn’t ease.

Nor did the heaviness in my voice lift.

Because what she was about to say likely wouldn’t be any different from the thoughts already swirling in my head.

“But that’s just how he treats everyone, isn’t it?”

“…Yes.”

It’s not that I’m special.

It’s just that he is.

“See? In the end, you didn’t get anything.”

When I lifted my head with a heavy heart, her face was twisted in a victorious smile.

It was the same smile she’d shown every time she had stood in our way and put us in danger, but it was the first time I’d seen that expression since she was trapped in here.

So I smiled too.

To wipe that irritating smirk off her face, like we always had.

“No way.”

I stood up from my seat.

And then I opened the grimoire I was holding toward her.

Her expression froze, and unmistakable fear surfaced in her eyes.

“You really are foolish, oh Grand Commander of the Demon Legion. Have you forgotten where you are these past few years? Forgotten what this place I visit every day is? Forgotten who you are?”

Now, she was hanging on my every word, every faint stir of mana, on edge.

“And you say I haven’t gained anything? This dimension, its countless books and artifacts, and even you—trembling in that containment jar—are all mine.”

I stepped closer to her.

Naturally, the open book followed.

“Alright! Alright, I get it! Just get that damned book away from me!”

With her scream-like surrender, I threw the book with all my strength toward the bookshelf on the other side.

It wasn’t some grand grimoire, but an old book borrowed from the library.

Even so, I, who always treated books with care, had no choice.

If I didn’t do that, I felt like I’d lose my mind.

“…As long as you understand.”

I turned around. It was about time to leave, but more than that, I didn’t know what I’d end up doing if I stayed any longer.

I needed a moment—just a brief moment to be alone.

At least until lunch.

Or dinner, at the latest.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t say a word.

Well, there was no real reason for her to.

***

The way back home was nothing but silence.

Even the wind seemed to have stopped, and today, the birds’ wings didn’t make a sound.

Even the occasional rustle of leaves sounded lonely.

I knew it was all just in my head.

But knowing didn’t change anything.

“What the hell am I doing?”

At first, it was compensation.

Then, as I said before, it became childish, meaningless self-satisfaction.

That was all.

But then why do I still go to that space every day without Lowell knowing, reading grimoires filled with spells and theories I don’t even intend to use?

What am I hoping for?

What am I expecting?

“…Hm?”

As I returned home through the forest, lost in thought, I felt an unusual presence.

And the distant sound of hooves.

Quite a few of them.

“They’ve come again.”

I entered the house through the back door.

No matter how many people there were, it didn’t matter to me.

“Of course.”

There was no one inside the house.

Just outside the window, I could see horses tied up here and there, with a few people tending to them.

It happened fairly often.

People coming to meet or invite the hero who saved the world.

After Lowell saved the world, our little village, once too small to even appear on maps, became known as “the hero’s village,” and most nations marked it on their maps.

Thanks to that, even this remote countryside village now occasionally saw visitors.

Of course, only to see the hero who saved the world.

I sat on the old chair by the dining table.

It was a chair my father had made and used.

“Where is it this time? The royal palace? A noble’s party? Or maybe a knight order?”

Over the past few years, countless people had come for countless reasons.

Some visited out of pure admiration and respect.

Others, however, sought to benefit from the name and power of the hero.

Of course, calling it “using him” sounds harsh—most just wanted mutual gain, or came seeking help with their suffering or injustice.

Naturally, Lowell declined all but the most sincere or extreme cases.

He had even turned down the throne.

What gain would he possibly seek?

And even a hero isn’t a god.

He can’t end all suffering or injustice.

And many of those who came, while surely struggling, weren’t always purely victims either.

This time, there were many horses, and judging by the gear and the people’s clothing, it was likely a noble house or a royal envoy.

And…

“…Should I take a nap?”

It had nothing to do with me.

Nine out of ten people who came to this village had never even heard of names like “the Nightmare of Orsia Hill.”

Even if they had, they’d never imagine that someone who lived in the hero’s village could be involved.

No one.

“Anak? You’re back?”

Just as I was trying to shut it all out, I heard Lowell’s voice.

Then, suddenly, the door opened.

“Ah, there you are. You went on quite a long walk today, huh?”

Lowell still believed I simply enjoyed a daily walk—and he continued to believe that.

“I was just lost in thought. So, what brings you here today?”

“Well, I’m not really sure myself.”

“You’re not sure?”

I didn’t grasp the meaning at first.

“What do you mean you’re not sure? Don’t tell me you came all the way here without even knowing why?”

While I stood there confused, Lowell stepped aside with a playful smile.

And behind him appeared knights clad in magnificent armor.

“We greet Anak, the Disturber of Balance, the Nightmare of Orsia, and the Deceiver of Summons.”

Their voices rang out with such dignity and formality that it felt like the house might tremble.

I turned to look at Lowell in astonishment.

“Ask them yourself. They’re here to see you.”

Me?

For what reason?

Why?

“We are the Alto Order of Knights, under Lord Ashton of the Kingdom of Hizen. We’ve come to deliver an invitation to Anak.”

He pulled an envelope from his inner coat and handed it to me.

My nicknames and full name were written on it in elegant calligraphy.

“The invitation is solely for Anak.”

When I tried to look at Lowell, the knights responded instead.

“The lord was greatly impressed by your exploits.”

“Impressed?”

Lowell was beaming as if it was his own joy, but to me, the situation seemed suspicious.

Impressed by my exploits?

What exploits?

Sure, I did a few things during that journey, but nothing compared to the feats of Lowell, the Hero.

So why invite me and not him?

“Of course, if Sir Lowell or Princess Aegina would honor us by attending, the lord would be delighted.”

Maybe I was just overthinking.

Over the years, Lowell had always refused such invitations.

Lord Ashton likely knew this, and so instead extended his invitation to the “hero’s companion.”

Or maybe Lord Ashton simply had a peculiar taste.

As we’d seen in our travels, this world is full of people with strange preferences—those who favor the outcast over the mainstream, imperfection over perfection.

Even if that’s not the case, we all know how stories twist and grow in the retelling.

There are places where no one knows my name, and others where I’m known for deeds I never did.

So maybe the tales of my exploits that reached Lord Ashton were exaggerated or romanticized.

Perhaps he’s become enthralled with an illusion and mistaken me for someone far greater than I am.

That would explain the invitation.

“…First, I thank Lord Ashton for his gracious invitation. But was it really necessary to send the entire Order of Knights just for this?”

“The lord has entrusted us with your escort. Once you’re ready, we shall depart.”

So the knights are part of the invitation.

Both to make it hard to refuse and to rush me.

“Right now?”

“It doesn’t have to be this very moment. We’ll wait a few days if needed, as long as you agree to come.”

Which basically means now.

I looked quietly at Lowell. I didn’t know what I was expecting from him—maybe nothing.

It was instinctive.

My eyes just went to him, like a habit.

“Go on, Anach. Hizen Kingdom isn’t that far, and you’ve been saying you were bored lately.”

Lowell was simply happy, in his pure way.

Oh, Lowell.

Knowing him, he’d probably been feeling guilty seeing how no one ever came to see me, unlike the endless visitors and invitations he and Aegina received.

So now, with someone finally reaching out to me, he was genuinely pleased.

“Alright, guess I’ll go then.”

I decided to relieve him of that needless guilt.

And I was curious about this Lord Ashton’s true intentions.

Plus, while I was away, I wouldn’t need to sneak out under the pretense of a walk to find that place.

“Then let’s head out. Just give me a moment to get ready.”

“Of course. We shall make preparations as well.”