The next day arrived, bringing no relief from yesterday's embarrassment. I wanted to dig a hole and dive straight into it rather than face what I was feeling now.
We helped Aria carry the necessary books that held details about previous heroes and the holy sword. The leather-bound volumes were heavy in our arms, dust particles dancing in the shafts of light from the high windows as we moved them.
She seemed normal despite the fact I'd carried her to her place yesterday. Only kept avoiding eye contact with me. Her gaze would drift to the books, the floor, the grain patterns in the wooden tables—anywhere but my face.
But my mind was a mess. I didn't know what came over me yesterday. I was standing there shocked one moment, then the next thing I knew, I'd suddenly taken her in my arms. Without even realizing what I was doing, before my mind could register what was about to happen, I moved fast. She is...
"Hey kid! Stop daydreaming and do the job."
Boraz's words snapped me back from my internal conflicts. Embarrassed, I scratched the back of my head and flipped through the pages. The parchment crinkled under my fingers, releasing that distinct old-book smell—musty paper and aged ink.
Sister Maria showed a book to Aria. "Here, this book seems to hold some records about the previous hero."
"No, I read it already. There isn't any information concerning this." Aria replied with a defeated tone.
"Man! It doesn't look like this'll end in a day or two. There's a mountain of books." Grey lost his patience. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged.
"Unlike our bro Kaito here, I'm not into books at all. I hate reading." Grey yawned, stretching his arms above his head until his joints popped.
"Yeah? Then what do you like?" I snapped back.
"A basket of breads?" He said it flat. Like that was all he wanted right now. If it was a week ago, he would've thrown up even hearing about bread.
"Figures. Classic." Everyone laughed at that comment, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "You just ate though. Already forgot?"
"I don't know why, but whenever I'm trying to study or read, I get hungry faster." He rubbed his stomach absently, the gesture almost childlike.
"And you act dumb whenever you're talking about food." I tried to tease.
"Can't argue with that. That's just how I am." He didn't even register my teasing!
***
We searched all morning—five people combing through dusty tomes and faded records—and still found nothing about the synchronization process at all. The canteen had grown warmer as we worked, the air thick and heavy. My throat felt dry from all the dust we'd inhaled, and my eyes ached from squinting at cramped handwriting for hours.
Grey slumped over his stack of books, his forehead nearly touching the pages. Boraz pushed his chair back with a harsh scrape against the floor, rubbing his face with both hands. "Nothing," he muttered. "Absolutely nothing."
Sister Maria closed another tome with a soft thump, dust motes swirling into the air beside her. She placed her hands flat on the wooden table, her expression weary but still kind. "Perhaps we're looking in the wrong section entirely."
Aria sat across from me, surrounded by the tallest stack of books. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned another page—not from exhaustion this time, but from something else. Frustration? Fear?
"It's not here." Her voice came out small, hollow. "It's not anywhere."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy as the humid warmth pressing down from above. Whatever was happening to me, whatever this "synchronization" was—there was no precedent for it. No guide. No answers written in any book these walls contained.
We were on our own.
"Well, we did what we could. It seems you are the first to experience this, bro." Grey was the first to break the silence.
His voice cut through the heaviness, matter-of-fact but not unkind. He closed his book with a decisive thump and leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under the shift in weight.
"First to experience it," I repeated quietly. First meant alone. First meant no one knew what to do.
Grey's stomach growled—loud enough that everyone heard it. He looked around at the rest of us with an apologetic grin. "Speaking of paths forward... maybe we should eat something first? Can't solve impossible problems on an empty stomach."
The tension broke slightly. Boraz actually cracked a smile. "Kid's got a point. We've been at this since dawn."
We all smiled, but something about Aria felt off. The thought lingered in my mind, quietly unsettling.
***
After some time calming ourselves from the frustration, exhaustion and the hunger, we gathered at the tower of heroes.
The tower was cooler than the canteen, stone walls thick enough to keep out the oppressive warmth.
"So, what do we have now?" Boraz asked, standing near the wall, his back pressed against it. His arms were crossed, amber eyes sharp despite the weariness pulling at his features.
"We have only a few details left to consider," Grey said, his mind already moving to connect the dots. He began counting on his fingers.
"One, Kaito survived a demon attack during summoning mysteriously by that synchronization." He paused, his jaw tightening. "Two, he isn't in his mind when he's fighting—almost a mindless berserker." Another pause, heavier this time. "Three, he has not only no self-awareness but no self-preservation either."
The words landed like stones in still water, each one sending ripples of implication through the room.
Sister Maria's hand covered her mouth. "That means he can't help us?" Her voice came out small, fragile.
"If he did, it's gonna be suicidal." Boraz ended it with a gut punch, his bluntness cutting through any remaining illusions.
The silence that followed felt suffocating. I stood there, listening to them discuss me like I was a broken weapon—dangerous to everyone, including myself.
Aria looked at me for the first time today. Her eyes found mine across the chamber, and what I saw there made my chest tighten. Pain. Raw, undisguised pain.
"Sir Kaito, if you don't want to... you don't have to." Her voice cracked slightly, and those pained expressions—I could see them clearly now, written in every line of her face.
Everyone's eyes shifted to Aria now.
"I'll find a way to send you back." She declared it like saving this world didn't matter anymore.
The words hung in the air, final and absolute. Her voice carried none of its usual determination—just hollow resignation, like she'd already given up on everything she'd been fighting for.
Something inside me began to stir—an ache. Just like before, when I first came here and asked myself: Am I capable enough to help them?
I lowered my gaze. Should I really see her offer as a chance to escape this world?
After all that happened?
After I found a purpose?
After I finally discovered a way to be useful?
Grey shot her a side glance, his eyes narrowing. "You should've thought about that before you brought us here. Why now?"
When we first came to this world, Grey had argued about sending us back. Now he was asking why she wanted to. The irony of it twisted in my chest.
Aria's reply came quiet, broken. "I never heard of a hero calling for his sword either." She paused, her fingers twisting together. "Summoning is one thing, but after the summoning... the holy sword can't be called like that."
Another shock hit like a physical blow. The chamber went completely silent.
Grey straightened. "Wait. What?"
Boraz pushed off from the wall. "What did you just say?"
"During the fight with the demon," Aria said, her voice barely above a whisper. "When you started fighting." She looked at me. "The holy sword manifested in your hand. Out of pure light. Like it was responding to you directly."
Sister Maria's hand went to her mouth. "That's... that's impossible. The sword is a physical artifact. It doesn't just appear."
"But it did," Grey said slowly, realization dawning in his eyes. "I saw it too. One moment his hands were empty, the next—" He made a gesture like grasping something from thin air. "It was just there. Just like the first time."
Sister Maria and Boraz went silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on all of us.
Grey broke the silence, "I have a doubt though. I've been thinking about this before, so hear me out." He paused, meeting my eyes directly. "What if the holy sword is the one controlling him?"
The question hung in the air.
"The way he moved, the way he fought—all of it suggests one thing." Grey's voice grew more certain as he pieced it together. "The sword itself was trying to reach the threat, that demon. Always forward. No defending or using his limbs properly. Just... driving straight at it."
Boraz nodded from where he stood against the wall. "Kid's right. I saw it too. You weren't fighting like a person—you were moving like the sword had one goal and your body was just the way to get there."
Aria looked at me, something shifting in her expression. Maybe realization. "If that's the case," she said slowly, carefully thinking through how to say it, "then the sword's defensive mechanism should be behind it, not the sword itself controlling you."
"How can you tell?" Grey said, looking at her.
She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "When I analyzed the summoning spell, I found a similar mechanism embedded in it. A protective response." She paused, her fingers twisting together. "That's why I initially thought Sir Kaito survived the demon attack during summoning because of that—just the sword's defensive mechanism activating to protect him."
Her expression darkened. "But I was wrong. It's not just protection. The sword isn't defending—it's hunting."
"Okay... that seems like a valid point." Grey nodded, then turned back to me. "But still, you really wanna do it, bro?" His tone carried weight—not doubt, but confirmation. Testing my determination.
I thought for a second, weighing everything we'd learned. Part of me wanted to run away like I always did. From the problems I faced in my own world. But I couldn't anymore. Not after all of this. Not after I'd found a way to use the holy sword, even if it was dangerous for me.
I straightened. "I already decided to help. I'm not backing down."
Aria's expression shifted—relief mixed with something heavier. She started to speak, hesitant at first, as if the words themselves were pressing hard against her chest. "In that case..." She paused, gathering herself. Her voice gained strength. "If we train you to be strong, then the sword's power may be able to be controlled."
I glanced around. No objections—only acceptance.
"Then we should wait until you get ready," Grey suggested, but Aria was already shaking her head.
"Now that he's here, the demons may know it soon. So if we wait, they might start attacking supply routes and the people surrounding this holy land, trying to corner us."
Boraz's rough voice cut in. "And we forgot Krell too, that traitor. That means you can't afford to wait. Is that it?"
Grey leaned forward. "Then we go as planned first. Training, enough to use magical equipments. If we use it, we may stand a chance too."
Aria nodded slowly. "That's a good plan, your progress is impressively fast. But still..." She trailed off, thinking hard. "At least we should add more members to the party..."
"What about you, old man?" Grey asked, turning to Boraz.
Boraz snorted. "I'm a bandit. Already my reputation is bad. You should find someone else..." He paused, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. "If you go to Oykot Town, there you can find any mercenaries. Or some imperial knights..."
He cut himself off with a grimace. "No. It's better to have mercenaries than those cocky bastards."
"Maybe a scout," Grey suggested. "Someone who knows the terrain, can track demons."
Boraz nodded. "I can only think of three people who'd be capable enough." He paused, his expression turning thoughtful. "There's Kael—tracker, good with a bow. Then there's Marcus—experienced fighter, works well in groups." He hesitated. "But this one... this is the tricky one. Strong, real strong. But works solo. Always."
His amber eyes grew serious. "Considering those two, she's your best bet though."
"She?" Aria asked.
"Goes by Red Reaper now. Don't know her real name—no one does. Keeps to herself, doesn't talk much, and never joins parties." Boraz's expression grew almost reverent. "But if you need someone who can actually stand alongside your berserk hero when things go south... she's the one."
"Do you know where she is now?" Aria asked, I could see her mood picking up slightly.
"How should I know? Ask mercenary guild or something," Boraz said, his face shifted sideways.
Grey raised an eyebrow. "Does the king know the hero is here?"
Aria nodded. "We sent notice. That's why he sent this last supply shipment with Sir Kaito's armor and an official recruitment order as well."
"If the king gives supply, then why isn't he sending knights as well?" I asked.
Aria's expression darkened slightly. "The king... he can't move openly yet. If he sends imperial knights here in force, it would signal to everyone—including the demons—that something significant is happening at the Holy Land." She paused. "Right now, supply shipments are normal. Expected. But a military deployment? That would draw too much attention."
"Politics," Grey muttered with disgust.
"Survival," Aria corrected quietly. "If the demons learn the hero is here before Sir Kaito is ready, they'll send everything they have. The king is trying to give us time."
Boraz snorted. "Smart. For a noble, anyway."
Sister Maria nodded slowly. "The recruitment order allows us to gather fighters discreetly. Mercenaries come and go—no one thinks twice about it. But knights bearing the royal standard marching to the Holy Land?" She shook her head. "That would be a declaration."
"That's why we should keep our party small and efficient as possible," Aria completed the thought, her voice firm with determination.
Grey nodded slowly. "Small means faster. Harder to track. And if we're careful, harder for spies to infiltrate."
"And cheaper," Boraz added with a dry laugh. "Feeding and equipping five people versus fifty? Big difference when you're trying not to bankrupt the Holy Land's supplies."
Sister Maria looked worried but didn't argue. She understood the reality better than anyone.
I looked at Aria, saw the determination in her eyes mixed with something else—fear, maybe, that even this careful plan might not be enough. But she was trying. Doing everything she could to give us a chance.
"Then we make it work," I said. "Small and efficient. We train hard then head to Oykot Town."
The others nodded. Plans were made. Strategies discussed.
But inside, the truth settled like a stone: I kept telling myself I could do it. Or at least I could try. But now—only I can move forward.
Not because I'm special. Because I'm the only one with a path that exists.
Whether I survive it or not—that's the only thing that changes anything.
***