by Fujino Omori
“Plus, things are different now.”
“…!”
But Bell was still inexperienced.
His heart wavered visibly at Finn’s offer. If he was to stand by his goal, he should have ignored Finn when they ran into each other and just walked away.
But the boy’s true nature was innately good. He had the virtue of believing in people.
He’s the exact opposite of me. Finn mockingly laughed at himself.
“Bell Cranell. If you know something, I want you to tell me.”
“I, uh…”
He stepped right up to the boy—to get conclusive proof of his connection to the monsters and hear his true motives.
Bell wavered in indecision but started to open his mouth.
“Hey, Bell! What a coincidence!”
““!””
The voice of a cheerful god resounded in the cul-de-sac.
“Lord Hermes…?”
“Yep, yep, it’s me, Hermes. What are you doing back here? Are you lost, perhaps? Or maybe young Bell is out gathering information in Daedalus Street, too?”
A dandy god appeared from behind Bell’s back, wearing a winged travel hat and acting as if he just so happened to be passing through at that moment.
“Oh-ho, Braver. Were you two in the middle of something?” Hermes smiled and squinted at Finn, whose eyes tensed in response.
That’s settled.
Ouranos, Hermes Familia, and Bell Cranell are all connected in their involvement with the armed monsters.
“…No, I’m done here, Hermes.”
Finn didn’t get any proof per se, but he’d gotten enough to make his decision.
In which case, there was nothing left to do here. Getting greedy would only increase the risk of the smooth talker of a god gleaning some information from him. More than anything, he didn’t want a god getting a glimpse into his mind—into his heart.
“Bell Cranell, do you have a key?” Finn lobbed one last question, passing right by the flustered Bell, as he was about to leave the cul-de-sac.
First, suspicion crossed the boy’s face, followed immediately by apprehension.
He apparently recognized that the question was referring to the Daedalus Orb. And judging by his face, he doesn’t have it on him now.
“Never mind. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, forget I said anything.” With a harmless smile, Finn finally left with that, proceeding down the complicated tangle of streets. Finn didn’t immediately return to the operation headquarters, instead picking his path at random, roaming around the Labyrinth District looking for a place to be alone.
On one street, he came across a broken fountain with no water coming out and sat there.
“…Haaaah,” he sighed.
His exhalation was full of various emotions that Finn would never reveal in front of other people. Finn had been behaving in a manner befitting a commander ever since the armed monsters appeared, acting to protect Orario as it fell into a state of upheaval. And all the while, he didn’t know what to do with himself.
That was why he wanted to take a little time to be alone, even though he felt bad for leaving the familia members to their own devices. Only when he was alone could he step out of his role as captain, and he needed time to reexamine himself.
“…I came with the intention of scoping out Bell Cranell, but I guess I’m not fully composed myself, either, huh?” he murmured.
Finn’s heart was wavering.
It wasn’t just because of the boy’s actions four days ago. And if he’d heard only Ikelos’s story, he would still have been fine.
But when he came up with a single hypothesis that tied those two points together, Finn’s heart became uncertain.
He had arrived at a dangerous speculation that he’d become convinced was not wrong.
It was the theory that the armed monsters might be intelligent life-forms, like humans.
They had emotions—not just simple cognition but a higher reasoning. They’d formed a community. Finn had a suspicion that they might be intelligent, self-aware organisms capable of reaching a mutual understanding with humanity.
With this hypothesis, all the oddities came together in an instant: the monsters who covered for one another in the battle and Bell Cranell protecting the vouivre in a supremely eccentric display.
It could be explained under the assumption that the monsters had hearts and minds comparable to people.
If my theory is correct…that’s an insane Irregular.
He couldn’t talk about it with Aiz—not when she was more unstable than he was at the moment.
He couldn’t talk about it with the familia members. That would just invite chaos that couldn’t be resolved.
Finn had arrived at a grim reality.
I can understand why those on Ouranos’s side were trying to keep this hidden. If it came out, the truth would shake the world to its core. Orario would cease to function.
If they found out that monsters and people didn’t have to kill each other but could talk things out, the city’s residents would either be filled with doubt—or fully embrace their hatred.
The adventurers who were supposed to exterminate monsters would lose their edge.
And there would be those out for revenge that get killed by monsters acting in self-defense. Casualties were inevitable.
This affair was an earthquake that would rock the world.
But I don’t give a damn about that.
Even if they could learn Koine, or if it truly is possible to reach a mutual understanding.
All of that was trivial to Finn.
Monsters had to be eliminated.
He didn’t have the slightest bit of doubt on that one point.
Same as Aiz, Finn would kill monsters without hesitation.
It didn’t matter if the monsters were different. He knew their very existence was a poison afflicting the people of the surface.
As Braver, as the object of admiration and envy of an untold number of people, he understood that defeating monsters was the only choice.
“…I don’t give a damn about that…Or that’s what I thought. So why am I so shaken up?” he whispered.
And in response, a sneer seeped out from the bottom of his heart: You already know why.
He closed his mouth.
Finn had already realized and acknowledged that he was a man-made hero.
As an easy example, he had negotiated with his patron goddess to have the title of Braver. It was nothing more than another tool in his quest to achieve fame, which he had sought out. Of course, Finn had conducted himself in a manner deserving of the name, which demonstrated his belief and strength. He had put in the effort and work to become Braver—both in name and substance.
However, it was all a calculated scheme he had come up with, a phantom that Finn had created.
Put simply, Finn was not a true hero. He was a hypocrite.
That’s why…
That was why Finn’s heart wavered when he saw Bell Cranell’s foolish behavior.
When he strung all the information together, he realized the full picture of the various interrelated incidents, and the static flared. There was no choice but for it to run wild.
—Heroes aren’t built. They appear because they’re desired, right?
A person doesn’t just become a hero…Intention and calculation have nothing to do with it. They’re born of the people’s desire for a hero, right? They’re the ones who opened that last door of their own volition, in response to the longing, tears, cries, and voices pleading for help.
They’re those who would take the same actions as Bell Cranell.
It wasn’t the tears of a person but of a monster that—
“Ngh…” Finn shook his head.
There was no end to that train of thought. It was a dangerous conjecture. But he couldn’t stop now.
Is it a feeling of inferiority? Do I feel jealous of Bell Cranell?
That boy had shown Finn youth, or p
erhaps it was dumb honesty, or ideals, or something along those lines. It was something that Finn had left behind, something he’d lost.
When he’d hardened his resolve to face reality head-on, Finn had weighed many things on the scales and discarded a great number of them.
He’d grown up. He’d gotten to know the world. He’d become famous, come to terms with society, and lost. That’s how he felt.
It wasn’t as if he’d always been “Finn.”
Just like Bell, he’d been a stubborn child once—no, he’d almost certainly been even more immature than Bell was.
With a lust for knowledge, he’d frantically committed himself to changing the very meaning of what it meant to be a prum. Back then, his stage had been the small village where he’d been born, nothing more than a tiny sandbox. But there was no doubt that was when Finn truly struggled against the world.
But now, he’d accepted that world, trying his best to bring about a revolution from within the confines of its rules. He wasn’t holding his ideals aloft but fighting while hiding the true scope of his ambition. And it was a fight grounded in callousness.
Finn used the word ambition. He would never say ideals. Even if he thought it, he would never say it aloud. As a man-made hero, he was fully aware that ideals were just a tool used to inspire or encourage others—not something to ever take seriously.
He’d always been and would continue to be correct. His choice wasn’t wrong, he was sure of it. But when he’d faced off against the boy protecting the vouivre, he was struck by the suspicion that he was horribly superficial.
A realist would scoff at Bell’s folly. That was the appropriate response. He would never have chosen Bell’s actions. That was how it should have been—or perhaps it was precisely because he wouldn’t have done the same thing that Finn was shaken, and fascinated.
“I see…This feeling is…”
It wasn’t jealousy or envy or inferiority. Something dazzling. Finn thought Bell Cranell was noble for doing something he could no longer do.
“…This is a problem.”
He would much rather feel shameful, a sense of inferiority. If that was all it was, Finn would have been able to simply accept this feeling for what it was or find a solution or get over it.
“And…a bad influence…”
But the fact that Finn was thinking about him was proof that he couldn’t ignore Bell Cranell. While Finn was disappointed and judged the boy for his foolishness, he found Bell blindingly radiant. He couldn’t help feeling absolutely ridiculous in comparison.
A smile appeared on his face. It wasn’t a sneer.
“F-Finn? Is that really Finn Deimne?!” a young voice called out.
He quickly snapped back to being “Finn,” standing up and looking in the direction of the voice, where a fellow prum stood. Even among their small species, he was clearly a child, a good head shorter than Finn and topped with curly brown hair. When Finn smiled and started to respond, the boy beamed, trotting over.
“Braver! Hero of the prums! I-I’ve always been rooting for you!”
His clothing wasn’t clean by any means, and he was an orphan without a doubt. The boy looked up at Finn with eyes filled to the brim with admiration.
“I always wish I can become a prum like you someday! That’s why, um…!”
It was what Finn had been wanting, his reason for fighting as Braver, the goal of his efforts to restore his species. This encounter should have been vindication of all that, but he felt empty…maybe because his heart was uncertain.
“I’m honored. Hearing that from a young fellow prum encourages me to continue my adventure. Your words help me fight with the pride of a prum,” responded Finn with an exemplary answer.
With a smile lacking even a single hint of gloom, he managed to perfectly pull off the answer he’d recited countless times for his fellow prums. As he shook off the melancholy he’d been feeling, Finn fulfilled his role as Braver, responding to the expectations of the prum.
He was the sort of man who could do that much, as pathetic as that sounded.
“Ah!”
And he was rewarded for it. The boy’s cheeks turned red, and he smiled in delight, eyes shining with excitement, celebrating a chance to talk to him.
“I-I’m short and not very strong, and I’m slow, and everyone at the orphanage makes fun of me, but when I hear about your adventures, I feel like I could be brave, too. And when Loki Familia returned after getting to the fifty-ninth floor, everyone changed their minds, and they were all saying that prums are amazing! I was so happy! And—!”
“Ossian! What are you doing going off on your own? Hurry up and come back!” another voice called out.
A human, chienthrope, and half-elf—all children wearing ragged clothing—appeared. They’re probably from the same orphanage. Even after considering that he’s a prum, they’re probably older based on their stature?
The orphans from various species ran over to the boy called Ossian.
“Lai! Look! It’s Finn! The real Braver!”
“Eh? Braver…?”
As Ossian started to introduce Finn, the human boy froze, gazing in wonder. The other two had similar reactions. Lai looked as though he was about to say something, but he pursed his lips and remained silent.
To Finn’s eyes, it seemed as if Lai wanted to celebrate meeting a first-tier adventurer, but for some reason, he could not bring himself to be happy.
Ossian tilted his head in utter confusion at his friend’s response.
“…Ossian, don’t go off by yourself. You know that…there are lots of adventurers around here right now…One of the monsters might show up,” Lai cautioned, seeming distressed and grabbing Ossian’s arm to drag him away.
The faces of the chienthrope girl and the half-elf clouded over at his warning. Ossian stopped moving. He seemed to hang his head as if brooding but immediately snapped it back up to look at Finn.
“Hey! You’re…you’re not like—like Bell Cranell, right?”
That question came out of nowhere. Finn’s blue eyes were full of shock, an expression he almost never let anyone see.
The young boy spoke as though he was pleading, saying, I don’t want to be betrayed again. The three other children were dumbfounded, and Lai leaned forward, his face twisting.
“Hey, Ossian!”
“But you all said it! That Bell hurt the other adventurers to get money!”
“—!”
“And that because of Bell, the monsters got away, and now everyone’s scared!” the prum child shouted as tears welled in his eyes.
It was as if he blamed Bell Cranell. The human boy didn’t respond to his angry glare.
“Bell is just like the other thugs living in Daedalus Street!”
“You take that back!”
“Lai?!”
In a rage, the human boy lurched forward to grab Ossian, and the chienthrope girl shrieked as she tried to stop him with the half-elf’s help. The human looked as though he didn’t know why he was so angry—or why he seemed like he was about to cry.
It was likely that Bell and those orphans had interacted before. At the very least, they were friendly enough to have built trust between them.
As a result of that boy’s stupidity, he’s betrayed these children.
How indifferent and cruel—but Finn couldn’t bring himself to ridicule him.
“He isn’t a self-interested adventurer by any means, if you ask me,” Finn softly offered before he realized, taking the hand that Lai was holding aloft.
As the shocked children turned their gazes to him, Finn began to speak.
“I hold him…Bell Cranell in high esteem. I’m one of the people fascinated by his adventure. Even now.”
Their eyes widened in surprise at his statement. Finn didn’t know why he’d said that. But he felt like it had naturally slipped from his mouth and displayed his true feelings.
“B-but…he let the monsters get away and put everyone in danger!”
&nbs
p; “There was probably a reason why he couldn’t back down. Even if it was something that should be despised…he made his decision and followed through—for the sake of his beliefs.”
Finn explained with a clear voice his perspective on the entire situation as Ossian leaned forward. He couldn’t share the truth, but Finn sincerely spoke of what he imagined Bell was feeling.
Ossian and the other children were anxious. In particular, Lai’s eyes wavered, and the half-elf looked back at Finn, as though seriously mulling over what Finn was saying.
Why am I trying to cover for Bell Cranell?
In order to manipulate his public image, he could have criticized Bell to his heart’s content. And people would have agreed with him.
But Finn could not bring himself to do that in the end—not because he was pretending to be some saint but because he thought it would be pathetic, ugly, the exact opposite of what a hero would say.
“Right and wrong…It’s difficult to define those in absolute terms.”
That was why he pretended not to know anything about the situation and solemnly spoke of reality in general, knowing that his words could be applied to him just as well as Bell.
The children lowered their hands, unable to think of a way to respond.
“—Laaaaaaai! Where did you guys go?” said a voice, and a figure appeared suddenly as though having been waiting for the right spot to break in.
She was wearing a white dress, and her blue-gray hair was bouncing—a human.
She’s…
She was one of the people who worked at The Benevolent Mistress, a tavern that Loki Familia used for post-expedition celebrations. Her name was Syr Flover.
She stopped in front of the children and smiled sweetly.
“Miss Maria is getting worried. Why don’t we all head back?”
The children nervously raised their heads and quietly nodded, starting to go home.
As they were leaving, Ossian swung around as if yanked by his hair. After glancing back at Finn one more time, he followed Lai and the other two.
The only people left were the girl and Finn.
“…Is it okay not to go? It seemed like you know them.”
“Yes, after I thank you, I’ll be returning as well.” Syr smiled as she spoke.