The walk back to my royal chambers felt like a march to the gallows. Every step I took in Kenji's boots felt heavy, as if the floor itself was trying to pull me down into the abyss. I passed a group of maids in the hallway; they stopped their whispering and bowed low, but I could feel their eyes—sharp, lingering, and filled with a strange, unspoken suspicion. I didn't look back. I couldn't.
The moment I entered my room, I slammed the heavy oak door shut and bolted it. The click of the lock felt like a final sentence.
"What kind of sick joke is this?!" I roared, my voice cracking under the weight of my frustration.
I turned and slammed my fist against the stone wall. Then again. And then, I leaned my forehead against the cold masonry and began to strike it. Thud. Thud. Thud. I needed the physical pain to drown out the screaming realization in my mind.
The Rank 1 and 2 heroes were Gods. Literal deities. If that was true, then why was I here? Why were we, the "Summoned Heroes," dragged into this world like lambs to a slaughter? I looked at the maps and the scrolls in my mind. There was no glory in the history of the summoned. They were mere footnotes, disposable pawns sent to die while guarding the Seventh Rank. They weren't heroes; they were human shields.
"It's all a lie," I whispered, blood trickling down my forehead from the impact. "Everything is a trap."
The Dialogue with the Dead
As I spiraled into fear, I felt that familiar, violent pressure in my chest. My right hand began to twitch, rising slowly toward my throat. Kenji was trying to take advantage of my mental breakdown. He only attacked when I was weak, when I was afraid.
"STOP IT! STOP RUINING MY BODY, YOU FREAK!" Kenji's soul screamed from within the dark recesses of my mind.
I stopped hitting the wall. I straightened my back, a cold, dark calm washing over me. I realized then that his power over me was an illusion fueled by my own terror.
"You want this body back?" I said aloud, my voice echoing in the empty room. "Then listen to me, you arrogant brat. If you try to sabotage me one more time, I won't just lock you away. I will ruin your name. I will make the world believe that the Great Hero Kenji is a raving, drooling lunatic. I will tarnish your soul until even the Gods won't recognize you."
The phantom hand stopped moving. I could feel his shock, his pure, unadulterated fear.
"Let's make a deal," I continued, my eyes cold as ice. "I will stay in this skin for a while. I will play your role perfectly. I won't make a single mistake. And the moment I find a way out—the moment I find a way to leave this nightmare—I will give you back your life. That is my promise."
"Who... who are you?" Kenji's voice was a trembling whisper now. "How do you know so much about us? How do you know about the summoning?"
I let out a jagged, hollow laugh and slammed my head against the wall one last time, harder than before. "I am the one this Kingdom murdered without a second thought. I am the fifth student. The 'Elementless' trash that the King threw away. I had done nothing to anyone, and yet, they butchered me within an hour of my arrival."
The silence in my head was absolute. Kenji was speechless. He remembered the boy they had laughed at. He realized he was sharing a mind with a ghost seeking vengeance.
"I came here, and within an hour, I was dead. Ten minutes later, I was a captured bandit. Moments later, I was executed by your hand. You think this is a coincidence? No. Someone is watching. Someone is playing with us. Now, be silent and let me handle the monsters outside."The Mask of the Hero
I washed the blood from my forehead, adjusted Kenji's golden-trimmed robes, and stared at the mirror. The face was handsome, powerful, and heroic. But the eyes—my eyes—were filled with a dark, calculating hatred.
I walked to the Grand Banquet hall. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of roasted meats, expensive wine, and the suffocating perfume of the nobility. At the head of the table sat King Valerius, and to his right was Kiran of the Azure Tide.
Kiran's sapphire eyes locked onto mine the moment I stepped into the light. He didn't look away. He watched every movement of my hands, every flicker of my expression.
"Sir Kenji," Kiran spoke, his voice cutting through the chatter of the nobles. "You look... different. Your mana is surging in a way I haven't seen before. It seems the trauma of the arena has matured you."
I sat down, forcing a smirk—the signature cocky grin that Kenji was famous for. "I'm fine, Kiran. Just a bit of a headache. I'll be 'Sweet and Fine' once the wine kicks in."
"I hope so," Kiran said, leaning forward, his gaze piercing. "Because after this banquet, we leave. Tomorrow at dawn, we march toward the demon territories. I expect the 'Dual-Element Hero' to be at his peak."
My heart hammered against my ribs. 'Tomorrow? Already?' I hadn't gathered enough data. I didn't even know what a 'Demon' looked like in this world.
As the servants brought the plates, I noticed the entire hall had gone silent. The King was watching me. The General was watching me. Even Sakura and Hina, sitting across the table, were staring at me as if they were seeing a stranger wearing their friend's skin.
I picked up a glass of wine, my hand perfectly steady. I smiled at them, but inside, I was screaming. 'Did I make a mistake? What did I miss?'
The "Observer" was no longer in the shadows. I was in the center of the stage, and the curtains were about to be drenched in blood.