Chapter 13: Hero of Light
That night, they had meat.
Arthur didn't know how his father managed to bring it home, considering their financial struggles, but since it was on the table, he chose not to question it.
I should get a job... Arthur had faith in his abilities—enough to earn money and support his family.
But there was a problem. His parents would never allow him to take a hunting job. He was only seven, after all. And outside of hunting, he couldn't think of any other way to make money.
'Guess I'll have to sneak out...'
Yet, another obstacle stood in his way—Aston.
His father was a seasoned soldier, trained to wake at the slightest movement, a skill sharpened by years on the battlefield. On top of that, he had received the blessing of Degree One. Slipping past him would be quite difficult. And once caught, Arthur would be under constant surveillance.
"The conversation went well," Aston spoke, pulling Arthur from his thoughts. "Viscount Ashenford took responsibility for the mistake and provided the funds to buy new seeds and fertilizer. He expects to see lush fields when he visits Westmere again."
A soft smile appeared on Aston's face as he said that.
Arthur had always imagined nobles to be indifferent, but perhaps Viscount Ashenford wasn't as cruel as he'd assumed.
"Will the land be able to grow crops like before?" Virelle asked, worry lacing her voice. The soil had suffered over a year of infestation—surely, it had been drained beyond repair.
Arthur shook his head. "Demonic worms don't ruin the soil. If anything, they enrich it with minerals that help plants grow stronger."
Aston frowned. "How do you know so much about them?"
Arthur gave the same excuse he'd used before. "I read about it in the public library."
"Hmm? Is that so..." Aston studied his son before sighing. "Well, Art, thank you for today. If not for you, the town's situation wouldn't have improved."
Arthur's expression darkened. "Don't let them look down on you, Father. You're a knight before anything else. Don't forget that."
Virelle opened her mouth to scold him—but then, she remembered how the Minister had spoken to Aston earlier. She lowered her gaze instead.
Aston only chuckled. "My goal has always been the people's well-being, Art. That's why I became a soldier." He placed a firm yet gentle hand on Arthur's head, ruffling his hair.
"Always remember, son—power and rank mean nothing if you don't use them to help others."
Arthur grumbled under his breath, trying to shake his father's hand off.
He didn't understand the man.
Thinking about others before himself... How could someone live like that?
Arthur had never been shown kindness. He had never been taught how to give.
He only knew how to take.
Dinner passed quickly, mostly because Kevin devoured most of the meat by himself.
For someone who looked so lanky, he could certainly eat.
Now, he was sprawled across the couch, one leg resting on the backrest, his mouth slightly open as he slept.
Arthur quietly arranged the chairs, listening to the sound of clinking dishes as his parents washed up. Their voices drifted toward him.
"I'll be leaving for Atinberg in three days to buy the necessary supplies. It'll take about a day," his father said. "Do you want me to bring anything back for you?"
Atinberg, huh?
Arthur knew the place well. It fell under the rule of Baron Crossford and wasn't far—just half a day's journey through the forest.
Unlike Westmere, Atinberg thrived. It had proper roads, paved in concrete, stopping just at its borders.
Arthur knew all of this because he'd visited his father's office a few times. Every discussion, every report his father went over with his subordinates, had left an imprint in his mind.
The roads...
If only Westmere had its own routes, trade could flourish here too. People wouldn't have to struggle so much.
But, as always, it all came down to money.
'Hey, Lily, how much could I get for hunting a chimera here?'
Arthur recalled that back in the day, a chimera's head had been worth enough to feed a family for a week.
Taking one down in his current body would be difficult, but if he caught it by surprise... maybe he'd have a chance.
'I hope it's at least ten gold coins...'
That much would be enough to buy his family a decent meal for a week.
But he had no idea how far off he was.
[Approximately five thousand gold coins, sir.]
"..."
Arthur stared at the system screen.
Then he read it again.
And again.
"...What?" His voice slipped out louder than intended, making his parents turn toward him in confusion.
"What happened, sweetheart?" Virelle wiped her hands and walked over to him.
Arthur quickly shook his head. "Nothing... I'm just sleepy. I'll head to bed."
Virelle smiled warmly. "You must be tired." She leaned down, kissed his cheek, and whispered, "Good night, love."
As Arthur made his way to his room, he couldn't help but ask, "Are you serious?"
[Yes, sir. The fact is, creatures like Chimeras, Abyssal Reavers, and Howling Tyrants rarely appear on the surface anymore. They're incredibly difficult to hunt, which is why the rewards for taking them down are so high.]
Arthur was stunned.
Back in his time, hunting a Town-class monster like a Chimera was just a warm-up. It was the first task given to fresh recruits in the army.
But now... What the hell happened to this generation?
"Can you sense those creatures around me too?" he asked. His own mana detection range was still weak, so he figured he could rely on the angel instead.
But—
[Other than providing information and tracking your progress, I can't do much, sir.]
"Thought so... Well, whatever."
He collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
He had been sent back to this world for one reason—to defeat the Demon Lord one final time and end this cycle for good.
But he still had no idea how powerful the Demon Lord had become in this era.
And this time, there would be no Hero of Light...
Wait.
There was one.
"Lily... Someone has received Solana's blessing, haven't they?"
[Indeed, host. The Child of Light—the hope of this world—has been born. He is the same age as you. Although I cannot track his movements, I know that he has already awakened his blessings and begun mastering his powers.]
Arthur hummed, unsurprised.
Even a thousand years ago, Eric—the Child of Destiny—had been a monster since childhood. At the age of eight, he had slain a wyvern with nothing but a fork.
He was the perfect blend of talent and relentless effort.
Eric and Clarsen had been close. Then again, Clarsen was his teacher—it was only natural.
And when Clarsen betrayed humanity... other than Grace, no one had taken it harder than Eric.
'Haah, I hope this child of light doesn't inherit Eric's memories.'
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A/N:- Don't mind me...I am just raising the flag.