Our carriage came to a halt, and a knock sounded from outside. It was the coachman; he wanted to say something.
"Ladies, it seems we must stop for a moment." He looked at his horses up front. "Our horses are thirsty and need a rest," the coachman said.
At his request, we took a temporary break by a lake.
The coachman gave his horses a drink, while my teacher and I spread a mat under a tree at the lake's edge.
This is boring, I thought. There's nothing here but a lake, grass, and trees.
"Teacher, tell me something fun," I said.
My teacher looked at me and thought, "Hmm... something fun...?" She pondered for a moment, then, as if an idea struck her, she looked back at me and smiled. "Something fun for me is teasing you," she said.
I narrowed my eyes, glaring at her as if to say, don't you dare.
"Alright, alright." She stroked my face with her right hand.
"Fun is subjective. Everyone has their own taste for what's enjoyable," my teacher said after she caressed my face.
"What do you mean by subjective?" I asked.
"Alright, let's start with an example around us." My teacher looked towards the coachman and his horses.
"What is your opinion of that coachman?" my teacher asked.
I looked at the coachman. "I think he is an old man who works as a coachman."
My teacher nodded slowly. "That is your opinion of him, based on his appearance and his job," she said.
I looked at my teacher. "Then what do you think, Teacher?" I asked.
"My opinion?" My teacher then cast a spell. Instantly, a small whirlwind appeared and headed towards the coachman and his horses.
What the coachman did as the small whirlwind approached was astonishing.
He held his horse's reins tightly and hugged the horses. He didn't run or try to save himself.
Seeing this, I tried to get up to help him, but my teacher held me back. I looked at her, my eyes silently asking "why," and then the small whirlwind vanished without causing any damage.
"He is a pioneering, great, and dedicated figure," my teacher said. "His skin is in direct contact with the heat of the sun and the rain every day."
"He is very serious about his work, and not only that," my teacher looked at the coachman who was now calming his horse, "he also takes very good care of his horse."
She looked at me, as if to ask, "Do you understand what I mean?"
"Hm... Appearance and job versus personality and attitude, is that what you wanted to distinguish?" I said.
"Well, everyone's views and opinions are different, just as you see him one way, and I see him another," my teacher replied.
"Is that wrong?" I asked.
"No, it is each person's subjective preference," my teacher said.
My teacher then pointed at me. "Like how you like fishnet underwear, while I'm more normal," she said.
I glared at her, putting on an annoyed face. "So you're saying I'm not normal?" I asked in a high voice.
I chased after her. She ran. "Besides, I'm not even wearing them!" I shouted.
My teacher just laughed. "Oww... quite bold of you down there, huh. Aren't you worried someone will lift your skirt?" she said, continuing to run around the lake.
We both ran around the lake until we were exhausted. I fell to my knees, panting for breath.
My teacher seemed the same; she was tired, her breathing rapid, but she could still stand tall.
"Speaking of tastes, there is one figure that comes to mind," my teacher said breathlessly, her chest rising and falling with the weight of her breathing.
"Let's go back first." My teacher bent down, asking me to climb onto her back. She knew I was too tired to stand properly. She carried me, walking along the lake.
"Who is the figure you remembered, Teacher?" I asked.
"He is a figure with a very strong conviction that victory must be achieved absolutely for the world to be saved," my teacher answered.
Her face grew grim. "But without realizing it and without wanting to, he instead created a gray world," my teacher continued.
We arrived at the mat where we had been resting, and my teacher handed me a bottle of water. "Drink this," she said, then instructed me to open the book to page 005.
I grabbed the book and opened the page, which contained the following:
APPELLATION: The True Hero
TITLE / EPITHET: The Hope Thief, The Anomaly of Victory, Bringer of both Dawn and Dusk
CLASSIFICATION:
* Primary: Legendary
* Status: Active (Cyclical, only appears during major crises)
* Scale: Regional / Global
* Tier: Bound
ORIGIN: It was born from a cosmic imbalance. In the beginning, Hope and Despair were two forces spread evenly throughout the universe. However, to ensure Despair could never achieve absolute victory, Hope made a great sacrifice: it condensed a large part of its essence into a single concept that would activate when the world was on the brink of destruction. The True Hero is the universe's antibody, a concentrated manifestation of Hope activated as a last resort.
FORM / ESSENCE: Its essence is a Zero-Sum Causality Balance. It is not an individual, but an anomalous principle that possesses a "host"—an ordinary human with potential—during a crisis. This host will temporarily become The True Hero, a vessel for the concept of "inevitable victory."
APPEARANCE & PERCEPTION: You will not see this entity directly. You will see its change in the host. A shy farmer might suddenly lead an army; an orphan might pull a sacred sword from a stone. The host will radiate an aura of hope so powerful it can inspire entire nations. However, for those who are sensitive, there is a strange side effect. Around the Hero, the world feels a little paler. Food is a bit more bland, laughter is a bit quieter, and small bits of good luck seem to vanish. The world is paying an invisible "tax" for its victory.
DOMAIN & INFLUENCE: Its domain is conflict and victory. Its main influence is the massive manipulation of probability to ensure the host will always win the predetermined "Great Conflict."
* An enemy's arrow will always miss by an inch.
* The tyrant will misspeak at a crucial moment.
* An impossible guess will always be correct.
However, for every great "miracle," it "steals" a thousand small miracles from the surrounding reality. After the Hero saves the kingdom, that kingdom might suffer from crop failure, a crisis of creativity, or a long winter. They are saved, but their vitality is drained.
VULNERABILITIES & COUNTERMEASURES: Though unbeatable in battle, it is bound by its own rules.
* Requires a True Crisis: This entity cannot be activated for trivial problems. It requires a large-scale threat that could genuinely destroy a civilization. Without a "dragon" to slay, the "hero" will never emerge.
* The Host's Will: Despite being empowered, the host is not a puppet. If the host consciously chooses an unheroic path—sacrificing the innocent for an easy win, or giving in to despair—the entity's bond can falter or even break. The Hero must choose to be a hero.
* Pyrrhic Victory: The entity only cares about "victory," not the condition of that victory. A cunning enemy can create a scenario where the only way to win is through a horrific sacrifice. For example, the only way to stop a doomsday machine is by merging with it. The entity will consider this a victory and depart, leaving the host in the form of a new monster.
ECHOES IN HISTORY & MYTH: Every civilization has a legend of a "Faceless Hero" who appeared in their darkest hour, saved everyone, and then vanished. However, the often-overlooked footnotes of history show the same pattern: after being saved, these civilizations entered an era of stagnation or long decline, as if all their luck and spirit had been spent in one brilliant moment of victory.
WHISPERS & FRAGMENTS OF KNOWLEDGE:
* "Every time The True Hero wins, a thousand artists lose their inspiration."
* "Do not pray for a savior to come. Pray that you are strong enough not to need one."
* "His victory always leaves a strange silence, as if the world is holding its breath, having forgotten how to cheer."
Scribe's Note: This entity presents the most terrible of moral dilemmas. Its actions are undeniably good—it saves millions of lives from destruction. But the price is the slow decay of the world's soul. Is it better to die in a blaze of glory, or to live on in a safe, gray world? This entity forces us to choose, and I fear there is no right answer. It is a savior and a curse in one.
I thought for a moment, then spoke up, "Hmm... Teacher, this isn't a single entity, is it?" I asked.
My teacher pulled a cigarette from her pocket. While still panting, she insisted on smoking.
I moved closer, snatched the cigarette from her, and snapped it in two. Her expression was one of shock, her eyes went vacant.
It seems I've made a mistake. I shook my teacher's body, which was now still as a statue. "Teacher, snap out of it..." I said.
This wasn't working. She wasn't even blinking, I thought.
I reached into her pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and waved it in front of her. Her eyes blinked and the light returned to them.
She snatched it very quickly with her right hand while her left hand squeezed my face.
I felt guilty and said "I'm sorry," but my voice was muffled, as my face was still being squeezed by her left hand.
My teacher pulled her left hand away to light the cigarette and said, "Don't do that again, or I'll take your fishnet underwear," she threatened.
"Who's scared?" I muttered under my breath.
"Did you say something?"
Damn, she heard me faintly. I denied it. "N-no, maybe you misheard."
"Is that so? Well, where were we?" my teacher asked.
"I think that figure isn't a single being," I answered.
She took a drag from her cigarette and blew out the smoke. "You understand the phenomenon," my teacher said after exhaling.
"Phenomenon?" I asked.
"Yes, a phenomenon. What you read is not about the figure itself, but how a phenomenon enters that figure," my teacher replied.
"Is it like being possessed? Or is their body taken over?" I concluded with what I thought would be easier for me to understand.
Because I thought, if the phenomenon was maybe a ghost or magic entering a person, then two things came to mind: body takeover or possession.
"Almost right, but there's a difference here." My teacher then ordered, "Try checking the Form and Essence section."
Hmm... Form and Essence, huh? Let's see. Its essence is a Zero-Sum Causality Balance. It is not an individual, but an anomalous principle that possesses a "host"—an ordinary human with potential—during a crisis. This host will temporarily become The True Hero, a vessel for the concept of inevitable victory.
"A vessel... then is its will restricted?" I asked after reading the referenced part.
"Well, for that, try checking the vulnerabilities section, the part about the host's will," my teacher gave another instruction to look further down the description.
I referred to it. The description was... Despite being empowered, the host is not a puppet. If the host consciously chooses an unheroic path—sacrificing the innocent for an easy win, or giving in to despair—the entity's bond can falter or even break. The Hero must choose to be a hero.
"In my opinion, it's the same thing. Even if he's not a puppet, destiny has already determined him to be a hero."
My teacher then confirmed it with an explanation. "Well, you're right, at a glance it seems the same, but there is a possibility that the figure will be cut off from the hero's destiny."
"So it's like this, Teacher, is this some kind of blessing or a revelation?" That was the conclusion I came to.
"Now, that's an accurate simplification. A true hero is called that because a revelation or blessing is bestowed upon him," my teacher stubbed out her cigarette.
"But that revelation can be severed if the person who receives it rejects the designated path," my teacher continued after putting out her cigarette.
She pulled out another one from her pocket. I watched her carefully.
"Then, what's the use of him?" I asked rather curtly, because I knew the text there recorded him not as a giver of hope but as a thief of hope.
"That's the irony. The world would be destroyed if he were not present," my teacher lit her second cigarette, "but his presence only stalls the world on its way to destruction."
"He doesn't save anything, then," I said.
"He doesn't save. He only postpones it until the real destruction returns," my teacher replied.
"That is why the absoluteness of victory, and a hope so dominant, triggers ruin with a gray world."
"A hope so absolute demands a price so high. It's like when you ask what the price of salvation is, the answer is everything except your life."
Hearing my teacher's words made me think, is balance really that important?
"Then Teacher, where is The True Hero now?" I asked.
My teacher then picked up a stone and threw it into the middle of the lake. The splash it made wasn't very strong, but the ripples it created slowly spread out and hit the lake shore.
"Like the ripples of water. Right now, because the splash the stone made wasn't strong enough, the ripples haven't spread far."
"The True Hero will appear when the stone thrown is large enough to create a splash, and its ripples have widened."
"So right now we are heading into a transitional period where the ripples are slowly spreading."
"You mean, no matter how big the stone or the splash, as long as the ripples are spreading, The True Hero will eventually appear?" I asked.
"Correct. And now, the stone has been thrown, and the ripples are slowly spreading," my teacher answered.