The Former Hero Wants To Lead An Ordinary Life

I was in a nostalgic sight when I realized it.

- No, there may be a slight narrative to say I miss it.

Anyway, I stood in the land of the final showdown of my previous life, in the castle of the Demon King, between the thrones.

The Great Hall, with its claw marks all over it, was surrounded by silence.

I don't see the demon king anywhere.

Near the center, in my last life, I'm lying down.

Ever since I became a brave man, the Holy Sword, which was beside me, had neglected to disappear from my hands because it had finished its role.

... It was a strange feeling.

Is this an imminent death experience?

Or a running lantern?

I've never talked or heard of seeing a past life in a running lantern.

Speaking of which, I didn't see a running light in my previous life.

My consciousness blew away without having time to gleam and see the running lights when I flew through the Demon King, so I died without gaining such a valuable experience.

... No, am I dead in the first place?

Am I who I am now in my previous life or who I am before I was reincarnated...

Which one the hell is me?

There's not much confusion, it's going to self-destruct. Gestalt, what are you doing? I can't believe it was popular at school at one time and everyone used it without knowing what it meant. My head is crumbling Gestalt! Like, my homework collapsed Gestalt -! Or the dog next door collapsed Gestalt -! Like, it doesn't make sense anymore. Rather, Gestalt was Gestal. But it was fun, funny and crappy, and I laughed raggedly. I'm old enough to admire and want to use it when I do difficult horizontal characters. Elementary school boys are invincible in places like that.

As I immersed myself in stupid memories looking at what looked like my corpse, my former companion, who had fallen all over the hall, rose up and began to gather towards me.

Everyone is as full of creativity as I am.

The sorcerer is also bleeding sloppily from his head.

The cleric chanted the finest restorative magic when he got to me first.

They say the magic is almost depleted, but they're impotent.

I looked at it bitterly.

"- Why don't you go back!

A cleric screams roughly at his usual calm.

"It shouldn't be a wound of this magnitude, a fatal wound...! Why won't it heal!?

Sure, there was a hole in my belly with a sorcerer's tsk that I used to blind me to the Demon King, but the steeple was off, and anyone who was on the spot would have figured it out, such as that it wasn't a wound that would be fatal.

That is why there was nothing that could answer the cleric's question.

"Lord Brave! Wake up!

"Dear brave man..."

"A brave man..., to compete with the demon king...!? Oh no!"

"Are you kidding me...? Those wounds are usually pimpy! Open your eyes, brave man!

Not only the clergyman, but my people try to call me back on my mouth.

A sad, desperate voice, but I will not respond in my previous life. - Forever.

"Why!? Defeat the Demon King, finally... finally...! Why are you...!!

A cleric's mourning echoes in the hall.

Everyone looked down at me lying with a disturbing cleric with a sinking face.

"Harves-Tor"

I say the name of the cleric now inscribed in my memory.

Naturally, however, the voice does not reach him.

This is a sight long gone.

Still, I couldn't help but talk in my heart.

I always thought you hated me, but you spared me so much to cry.

I didn't know that.

Thanks.

Appreciate it.

I've been helped by you over and over again.

You always applied polite healing magic without losing your hand, even though you loathed me for constant injuries.

... I wish I could have thanked you properly while you were alive.

I also had a lot of twisting, so I just had a busy, awful attitude.

Because he's a brave man. Because it is worth using. Because if you die by the time you defeat the Demon King, you'll be in trouble.

That's why I thought you were treating me.

I've never been sincere enough to thank you for treating me. I just wanted to thank you so much, I wouldn't have caged my heart at all.

I thought you were looking down on me, a nobleman. It's crappy seclusion. Lower species reckoning.

"Cleric Thor! Is that magic...!? Please don't! You must not lay hands on the prohibition! Yourself...!

When the cleric cast a complex spell called the sacred language, one of the cleric aides who was following him went into a halt in a hurry.

"Are you going to sacrifice yourself...!?

But the cleric does not lend ear to the word of restraint, and continues to spin the spell.... sharpen that life.

- Resurrection magic.

I had heard the story.

the existence of a forbidden resuscitation technique that feeds the life of the surgeon.

However, a user manipulating a sacred spell whose immense amount of magic and precision demanded that not a single letter be allowed to make mistakes on top of the elusive was not considered to be of modern age.

Will the clergyman exchange it for me?

Stop it, I screamed without a voice.

Usually, it's an outrage that I don't think of as a cleric who doesn't even lose his cool when he's fighting.

Enough. I'm not going back.

My death has been decided.

No way can you bring me back to life.

My life was taken to seal the Demon King.

By that damned holy sword, God and doings.

The Demon King taught me.

"The brave sealed it," he said.

I'm sure the word is right.

I was chosen as the "Brave Man" as the best "tool" to seal the Demon King.

- That's the fucking truth.

The journey to Demon King Castle was just a journey of death.

Beyond that, there was nothing but dreams and hopes.

I was fooled.

What is God?

What is a holy sword?

Brave scam.

It's more vicious, shady, and cursed than an ole scam.

So.

Don't take me that way until you do.

Please.

Enough about me.

Please,

Fail me, the cleric, having finished casting all the spells, laughed lightly and laid her eyes down as she stared half praying. … satisfactorily.

On that face, I despaired.

Excellent clerics by the rare, - succeeded.

"I promised. He called it back from the abyss of death."

Stupid.

That was just a light-hearted reward, wouldn't it have been such a heavy promise?

Don't. Don't.

I don't want that.

From the priest's body, the particles of light rise like a pneumonia.

- It's the lamp of life.

Resurrection magic succeeded.

Indeed, it was activated correctly.

But forbidden magic only took the life of a cleric, and did not resurrect me, a brave man.

I probably screamed.

Desperately reaching out to touch that body, calling on the priest's name.

But my hand, which exists only in spirit, will never reach him.

No matter how hard you stretch, no matter how truthful you wish, I'm...

"Har... s-t... l... ugh"

A groaning, plundering voice came out of his mouth.

"It's okay.... I'm here"

Someone stretched out my hand and answered it with a slightly elevated, but calm voice.

Consciousness surfaces abruptly.

From the past, - to the present.

From previous life, - to this life.

Relying on my gripping hand, I went back to reality.

When I slowly open my eyes, the white ceiling comes into view first.

faint electronic sound.

Comfortable air conditioning.

Modest lighting that just doesn't bother your vision.

Hospital-specific artificial smell that covers the vid with cleanliness and deodorant.

From what I saw in my eyes, I could quickly recognize that this was the world ahead of me, reincarnated, not the previous life.

"Te... l...?

For some reason, I assumed he was the one holding my hand.

Because it was the Demon King who buried me alive and held my hand until the time of death.

But...

"Have you noticed?

The voice called from the side was totally unfamiliar, and the Lord of the voice, who moved his gaze to confirm it, was still a completely unrecognizable, - unknown opponent.

(Uh, who?

The face with a relieved relief still belongs to me and the ageless boy, a figure who doesn't even plunder into brain memory no matter how much he probes the memory in his head.

"I'm glad you're okay."

I stare at a neat face with a friendly smile.

(Uh, really who?

Do another brain search, but it doesn't hit me at all.

To me completely frozen, the boy tilted his neck.

"Maybe you don't know who I am?

- I nodded for now.

There was nothing else I could do.

Because I don't know what I don't know.

... or here, really in this world, right?

If he died again, he'd be in a world he didn't even know about,... what a fantasy development, huh?

That's not the experience I want to go through twice or three times.

I thought I was gonna die in a culture shock. Giant flying objects flying through the sky, giant tanks diving into the sea more than sea beasts, box-shaped vehicles that diseased themselves without even pulling a horse into a turbulent giant building of unknown material..., none of which existed in the previous world. I don't know what else to give you. Phones, TVs, washing machines, refrigerators, just stuff like that normally in the house. What the hell! It was a shock.

My condition made the boy look troubled.

"... um, are you having memory problems? Did you forget about me?

A sad voice inspires guilt in plain sight. Awkward.

Amnesia, that's what it is, a common amnesia in drama or something, right?

But I have a good memory.... I have no idea about you though.

Anything but you, I know who I am, and I remember my family, my school, my lifestyle, even more than I remember in my previous life.

In the meantime, I decided to give you a name to prove I'm not amnesic.

"I'm Sho Sato, fifth grade, 11 years old."

"You know exactly who you are."

"... you got it?

"There is. Do you know anything about your mother, or where she lives?

I still snorted.

I know.... the only thing I don't know is about you right in front of me.

I've already decided to ask straight.

"So, who are you?

"I..."

The mysterious boy told me to take a breath to spare a little.

"It's your brother."