Chapter 2

Episode 2. A Reason to Live (1)

“One week suspension.”

“……”

“What, you got a problem?”

A middle-aged man with a wild, lion-like appearance asked in a low, gruff voice.

Lucas Cain.

A professor who was in charge of the Warrior Department during his time as a Hero Candidate.

A hero once known as the “Bloodthirsty Hound,” famous for slaying hundreds of demons.

And today.

He was also the person who punched me in the gut and sent me flying the moment I woke up.

“Disrupting class and assaulting a professor… You should be grateful it’s just a suspension.”

“…Yes.”

I nodded awkwardly, meeting Professor Lucas’s fierce glare.

“Then go back to your dorm right now and write a reflection paper. I need to finish the rest of the class… Ugh.”

Professor Lucas, who was about to get up from his chair, grimaced and clutched his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“Mind your own business.”

At Professor Lucas’s sharp rebuke, I turned and left the office.

On my way back to the dorm.

I trudged down the hallway, usually bustling with candidates, toward my dorm room.

In the midst of the chaos, I suppose it was a small mercy.

Even after all this time, the room number of the dorm I lived in for four years was still vaguely etched in my memory.

[Hero Candidate ‘Dale Han.’ Identity confirmed.]

*Beep, click.*

As I brought the watch on my wrist close to the firmly shut door, the familiar mechanical sound rang out, and the door opened.

A small bed, a desk, and an old shelf with a few cheap bottles of wine.

‘This is the room I used back then.’

Though my memories of my time as a Hero Candidate weren’t crystal clear after so long, I still remembered the private dorm room I lived in from ages 18 to 21.

I stepped into the cold, silent room and sat down on the old bed.

“…What the hell is going on?”

After absorbing the ‘Primordial Flame.’

I thought I could finally put an end to that excruciatingly long life and closed my eyes.

‘But I came back?’

As far as I knew, the ‘Primordial Flame’ didn’t have the power to turn back time.

The reason I wandered the continent for hundreds, thousands of years searching for the Primordial Flame was because there were records stating that it could burn away the seven divine blessings… the ‘Holy Marks.’

“Wait, that means…”

I hastily unbuttoned my shirt and looked down at my left chest.

The Holy Mark engraved there.

The Holy Mark bestowed by one of the seven gods, the ‘Forest God,’ remained intact, its form unchanged.

“Ah.”

A chilling shudder ran down my spine.

I had wandered the continent for so long, seeking only death, searching for the Primordial Flame.

And it was all for nothing?

‘No, it’s too early to judge.’

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t the Holy Mark bestowed by the Forest God that made it impossible for me to end my own life, but the ‘Blessing of Resurrection’ embedded within it.

While Holy Marks were something every hero possessed, the Blessing was a power held by only a select few.

‘Even if the Holy Mark remains, the Blessing might have disappeared.’

The method to test it was simple.

*Swoosh.*

I pulled a sword from the scabbard lying in the corner of the room and held it to the back of my neck.

Superficial cuts or slashes wouldn’t confirm whether the Blessing was gone or not.

The Blessing of Resurrection wouldn’t activate unless the injury was fatal.

So, there was only one way.

*Slash.*

Without hesitation, I swung the sword down on my neck.

The cold sensation of the blade cutting through my neck, followed by my head falling to the floor with a *thud.*

Blood gushed out like a fountain, staining the bedsheet red.

And then.

*Whoosh.*

A blue light emanated from the Holy Mark on my left chest, and my darkened vision returned to normal.

My head, which had fallen to the floor, and the blood-soaked bedsheet returned to their original state as if nothing had happened.

“Huh.”

A low chuckle escaped my lips.

Nothing had changed.

The Holy Mark on my left chest, and the Blessing of Resurrection embedded within it.

The end of that excruciatingly long life wasn’t a period, but a loop.

‘Then what happened to the Primordial Flame?’

The thought crossed my mind that perhaps the Primordial Flame had disappeared along with the regression.

“Ugh!”

*Sizzle!*

A searing pain, as if a hot iron was branding my flesh, shot through my left chest.

Looking down, I saw a faint flame flickering like a candle around the Holy Mark.

‘What’s this?’

This was a phenomenon I had never experienced in the thousands, tens of thousands of deaths I had repeated.

The reason for this sudden, unprecedented occurrence.

The answer wasn’t hard to find.

‘So, the Primordial Flame hasn’t disappeared.’

Though the flame was pitifully small compared to when I first absorbed the Primordial Flame.

At least it seemed the Primordial Flame itself hadn’t disappeared with the regression.

‘But that doesn’t change the fact that the Blessing of Resurrection is still there.’

Clutching my throbbing head, I flopped down on the bed.

A tangled mess of thoughts swirled in my mind.

“Regression…”

I placed my hand on the watch on my left wrist and gently channeled magic power into it.

*Beep.*

A halo of light emanated from the watch, and a translucent hologram window appeared.

[Candidate Information]

Name: Dale Han

Origin: Republic

Grade: 3rd Year

Affiliation: Warrior Department

Candidate Overall Ranking: 472 / 472

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen this.”

Seeing the overall ranking at the bottom of the candidate information window, I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh.

The perennial last-place candidate.

The worst dunce since the founding of the Hero School.

According to Professor Lucas, ‘You shouldn’t even work as a hero even if you graduate,’ proudly holding the number one spot in that ranking.

“Phew.”

Recalling my time as a candidate, a bitter taste filled my mouth.

‘Exactly when did I come back?’

Turning off the hologram window, I checked the date on my wristwatch. It was early March, just as the semester was starting.

‘Then the class I was in earlier… must have been Combat Training.’

Combat Training.

A mandatory class for all third-year students, regardless of department, designed to prepare them for ‘real combat’ against monsters.

‘It was during the midterm evaluation of this class that I first manifested the Blessing of Resurrection.’

As I flipped through the dusty album of memories.

“…Huh?”

Like a bolt of lightning.

A forgotten memory flashed through my mind.

“Wait… If it’s the first semester of third year Combat Training, then surely…”

*Thump, thump.*

My heart pounded as if it would burst.

Before I could finish the thought, my body moved on its own.

*Bang!*

I kicked open the dorm room door with enough force to break it.

Squeezing out the little magic power I had left to enhance my body.

I ran.

Even if my legs tore apart.

Even if my lungs burst.

Right now.

It was more important than that…

*Thud, crash!*

I roughly opened the door to the classroom I had just been kicked out of.

“What, what’s this?”

“Dale?”

The candidates’ gazes prickled like needles.

Ignoring them, I moved forward.

To the very back of the classroom.

By the window where the spring breeze gently flowed in.

“Huh?”

She.

Was there.

“Iris…”

Her figure sitting by the window felt strangely unfamiliar.

The reason for that ‘strangeness’ wasn’t hard to find.

The deep blue eyes that seemed to pull you in, which no longer existed in the her from my memories, were looking right at me.

“Uh… Me?”

She looked bewildered, as if she hadn’t expected me to call her name out of the blue.

A natural reaction.

At this point, she and I weren’t even acquaintances, let alone lovers.

When I reunited with Iris ten years after graduation, she didn’t even remember that we had been in the same class for a whole year during our candidate days.

Well.

There was no reason for her, who was called the Saintess and was expected to represent the Holy Kingdom as a hero, to remember a dunce who had firmly held the last-place seat from admission to graduation.

Until now.

“……”

Without a word, I walked step by step toward her seat.

“You! What do you think you’re doing to the Saintess!”

A female student with navy-blue hair tied in a ponytail jumped up from her seat.

Camila Bediche.

A knight sent directly by the Holy Kingdom to guard the Saintess during her candidate days, and a candidate expected to be the next ‘Sword of the Holy Kingdom.’

“Step back!”

She shouted fiercely, reaching for the sword at her waist.

Before her sword could even leave its scabbard, I reached out toward Camila.

My fingertips touched her wrist holding the sword hilt.

“Move.”

Berald Martial Arts.

Sky Reversal.

“What the…!”

*Whoosh!*

Camila’s body flipped upside down and rolled across the floor.

Screams and shouts filled the classroom.

Ignoring all the noise.

I stood before her.

“…Ah.”

I remember.

I recall.

The warmth that grew cold as she lay in my arms.

The voice that whispered ‘It’s okay’ over and over, her trembling hand stroking my cheek.

The smile she forced through the pain as she looked at my weeping face.

“Ah, uh.”

A sob like the sound of a boiling kettle escaped my lips.

The thorn of surging emotion pierced my heart, making my chest burn.

What should I say?

What words should I offer?

I know.

That she doesn’t remember me now.

That all the time we spent together exists only in my memory.

But.

Even so.

The words I had repeated countless times while walking alone through the snow-covered wilderness filled my throat.

There were so many things I wanted to say.

But there was only one thing I needed to say.

“I’m glad…”

That you’re alive.

“Really… I’m glad.”

In a life that had only chased death.

I found a reason to live.

* * *

“Your suspension is extended to one month.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no,’ you lunatic! You barged into the classroom during suspension and attacked a candidate during class… and even the Saintess of the Holy Kingdom? What? Are you out of your mind right now!”

“I didn’t attack her. If anyone hears, they’ll misunderstand. I didn’t lay a finger on the Saintess.”

“Then what about Candidate Camila? Why don’t you say you didn’t lay a finger on her either!”

“Camila herself said it. She tripped and fell by accident.”

“That’s because she couldn’t admit she was defeated without even drawing her sword!”

“Come on, Professor. How could I possibly stop Camila Bediche, a candidate for the ‘Sword of the Holy Kingdom,’ from drawing her sword?”

“Ha. Did you really think you could fool me with that pathetic act?”

Professor Lucas, with eyes as sharp as the hound he was nicknamed after, glared at me and continued.

“You… What exactly are you?”

“You already know.”

I shrugged and replied with a calm expression.

“Dale. Ranked 472 out of 472. The last-place Hero Candidate, Dale Han.”