They continued their conversation, confirming Ronan's identity as the Hero. The elder, puzzled by Ronan's reluctance to accept the title, didn't push the issue. Instead, he warmly invited Ronan into the village, eager to offer him hospitality given the village's dire situation.
As they walked through the village outskirts, Ronan noticed Frieren's skeptical gaze. She frowned, her sharp eyes questioning him silently. She clearly had more to say, but held her tongue until the right moment came.
"Are you really the Hero?" she whispered, finally catching his eye. Her voice was filled with doubt. "Shouldn't the Hero be brave and dedicated to defeating the Demon Lord? Why are you resisting? Tell me."
Ronan expected this. She had the typical image of a Hero, shaped by stories and legends. Despite their short time together, she could see that he was strong. If he wasn't afraid of the Demon Lord, why did he act like defeating it wasn't his responsibility?
"You've misunderstood something," Ronan said calmly, looking down as if they were discussing the weather. "Originally, 'Hero' meant someone brave and decisive. But the idea of 'defeating the Demon Lord' is a later expectation. It's like how people think all elves are immortal and perfect. In reality, other races can have pointed ears too." He smiled subtly. "If the chance comes to act against the Demon Lord, I will. But it's not my job. It's just another challenge."
Ronan felt detached from the title. In both his past life and this one, he had never liked being forced into a role. With his wealth, why should he fight a Demon Lord? If the Demon Lord came for him, that would be the Lord's mistake, not his. He had other priorities that didn't involve saving the world just because of some legend.
After speaking, he fell silent, letting his gaze wander around the village as the cool evening air settled in. The lush landscape stretched out before him, birds chirping softly in the distance. The peaceful rhythm of the world contrasted with the weight of their conversation. He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the calm that filled him. At that moment, the thought of adventure or battles felt far away—like someone else's problem.
Frieren nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. Though she didn't fully understand, she knew he wasn't a typical Hero. He didn't care about the Demon Lord in the same way everyone else did. To him, it was just another obstacle he would address if the time came.
But even as she processed his words, she felt confused. Before, the term "Hero" had meant someone brave and willing to fight for the people. Yet, Ronan seemed to see his role differently. He didn't view the Demon Lord as a singular threat; he saw it as just another demon, someone to deal with if necessary. How could he be so indifferent?
The layers of meaning were hard for her to unravel. Eventually, they arrived at her doorstep. To her surprise, Ronan had left the elder's side and was now behind her, still deep in thought. The village was quiet as evening descended, the sky painted in shades of orange and gold. The crisp air mixed with the scents of the forest, calming her after a long day.
"Are you staying here tonight?" Frieren asked, her voice quiet but curious. She was still processing everything about Ronan, the Hero. She didn't know what to make of him yet, but something about him intrigued her—something beyond the title and the sword.
Ronan paused, looking up at her. The village was small, and as the sun set, the quiet night began to settle in. He hadn't planned on staying, but it seemed the elder might want to speak with him more. The village was far enough from immediate danger that he didn't feel an urgent need to leave.