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Chapter 01: The Greatest Hero Gets the Boot (Part 2)
In this world there lived humans and many other races derived from humans.
These non-human races were called ‘demi-humans', but as the rivalry between them and humans deepened, they began to be reviled as ‘demons'.
The blood of beasts and monsters ran strong in their veins, and they shared many of the same characteristics.
Some races were hardier than humans.
Some races had keener senses than humans.
Some races were more magically powerful than humans.
Some races lived longer than humans.
The humans, who outnumbered the other races, were jealous, envious and covetous of those superior characteristics.
To save the poor humans, the One True G.o.d chose to give gifts to them—and only them.
Upon turning twelve, each person would receive one special ability or characteristic.
However, it was obvious that this attempt to maintain balance in the world was doomed from the very beginning.
Humans had always had the advantage of numbers. And now, no few individuals with powers surpa.s.sing those of the demi-humans were appearing among them:
Swordsmen who could take on dozens at once.
Brilliant generals who were experts at strategy.
Great mages who could turn the tides of war.
Those individuals organized together and proceeded to thoroughly slaughter the demi-humans with their combined power.
Humans became the mightiest race, a.s.sured of victory.
But, in the end…
———Was the gift system really set up to save them?———
There were all sorts of gifts, and their quality was. .h.i.t or miss.
However useful a gift might appear, if it did not complement the recipient's innate talents and traits, it would go to waste.
The gra.s.s has always been greener on the other side.
And humans, as a race, were unsurpa.s.sed in jealousy, envy and covetousness.
★★★
It was the night of Garrius' audience with the king.
In a room of the royal villa, cleared of all others, a man and a woman embraced pa.s.sionately.
As their interlocked lips separated, the woman gave a sigh.
She laughed breathily. “It's all going according to plan.”
The beautiful woman, dressed in a see-through nightgown, was the Queen Isabella. She separated herself from the man and sat down on a canopied bed.
“Yes, all because Garrius was kind enough to get rid of the demon king sooner than expected.”
The man picked up a bottle from a round table and poured wine into two gla.s.ses.
This strapping man was General Bran Gotte—not someone who should have been holed up in a room alone with the queen.
“Ah, yes. That pig-man. But will it work? Will he show up at tomorrow's triumphal presentation ceremony?”
“I tried to persuade him to go, so perhaps? But if he has a healthy amount of pride, he won't want to. Ah, well. It makes no difference whether he shows up for the ceremony or not. He has to prepare for his sudden exile, so he'll no doubt spend half the day roaming about the capital.”
Gotte picked up the gla.s.ses and drew near to Isabella.
“We just need him as a scapegoat. The true a.s.sa.s.sin has been otherwise arranged.”
“So then, you'll not have the pig himself do it? Strike down the fake hero, Jered?”
Isabella accepted a gla.s.s and smiled bewitchingly as she gazed at its crimson liquid.
The next day, a ceremony to present the triumphant hero was to be held in the plaza before the palace.
In actuality, it was a farce to convince the people that Jered had been the hero.
The queen and the general were plotting to use the ceremony as an opportunity to rid the world of the prince.
“Jered lacks war experience, but he's no pushover. That means we'd have to give Garrius a weapon of suitable power, which would carry considerable risk. There's no guarantee he wouldn't turn his a.s.sa.s.sin's blade on another, is there?”
“Very true. I'm sure the pig's heart is as foul as his looks. He seems to be harboring an extreme ill will, not only toward Jered but toward the king and myself as well!”
“And if I don't play my cards right, towards me, too. Of course, if he has no holy weapons or armor, it'll be easy to kill him for his crime against the prince. That said, I don't wish to put Your Majesty in any danger.”
The queen giggled. “Your concern for my welfare pleases me.”
“But of course! After all, without you, I couldn't become the next king.”
In spite of these cold-hearted words, the still-smiling Isabella spoke as if singing.
“The pretend-hero prince will fall to an a.s.sa.s.sin, and then the king will meet an unfortunate end. Ah, but the tragic queen—she will end up choosing the mightiest knight as her new companion before rebuilding the realm!” She giggled. “Our plans are only just beginning. We mustn't falter at this stage.”
“That's right. But I still can't fathom Your Majesty's true intent. Why attempt to take over the country when it could endanger your position as queen?”
“Oh, haven't I said? It's because I need the man standing beside me to have suitable looks and talent. As I see it, the fat, hideous king is no different than that pig of a hero. But you, General, are deficient in neither good looks nor talent.”
Gotte thanked her and shrugged.
“I have my own ambitions: to take the kings.h.i.+p and to have you, a woman of incomparable beauty. However, my gift is specific to combat. I'll do whatever I can to let ‘Endless Beauty' use me as a figurehead.”
Isabella toasted Gotte with apparent satisfaction. Their gla.s.ses made a pleasant clink.
“My gift lets me stay beautiful until I die. ‘Charisma' might be more suited to statesmans.h.i.+p, but merely to be ‘beautiful' can function as an effective subst.i.tute. Especially when equipped with intelligence, which that imbecile of a prince lacks.”
She let the wine slide down her throat. Her manner of drinking created a breathtaking picture.
But, though Gotte, chuckling to himself, I'll have no use for a stupid woman obsessed with beauty once I'm sick of bedding her. I wonder how long that will take?
At the same time, Isabella was thinking, I'll shove this war-obsessed idiot onto a battlefield and enjoy palace life with some cute boys. Once he outlives his usefulness, I can persuade another man to deal with him for me.
They were only together to use one another.
The two of them emptied their gla.s.ses and fell into the bed, entwined in each other's arms. As if to celebrate the eve of Jered's b.l.o.o.d.y demise, they fiercely sated their pa.s.sions together.
☆☆☆
How would the these misaligned schemes work out in the end?
Which of the conspirators would see theirs succeed?
The answer—to set pretense aside and cut to the heart of the matter—was that neither would reach success.
Their carefully laid plans shared one glaring flaw.
That flaw was in the plans' very foundation.
Indeed, it was there in the hero's triumph to be held the next day.
The two had miscalculated. Or one might say they had taken things for granted.
No, the most fitting way to express it is that they simply had not known.
Not about the true nature of that rare and exceptional gift, ‘Item Master'.
Nor how truly formidable the only man to ever properly use that gift to its fullest extent could be.
They never should have involved him.
Because from the moment they did, their wretched fates were consigned to the depths of h.e.l.l.
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