Chapter 52
“With Leo?”
What was it that Leo and I talked about again?
I scratched my cheek and tried to remember.
Thankfully, it hadn’t been that long ago, so I recalled it quickly.
Of course, I couldn’t remember every single word perfectly.
‘Let’s see… Leo saw how the villagers acted and asked if I wasn’t angry. I said there was no reason to be… that soon everyone would realize how hard we worked…’
Ah. So that’s why he was upset.
Because I was still naïvely trusting people.
Because I believed that if we worked hard enough, everyone would acknowledge our sincerity.
In other words—he thought I was being too idealistic.
Heroic, maybe, if you put it nicely. But honestly? Naïve.
The realization hit me like lightning.
Yeah… I could see how that sounded.
It was my fault for phrasing it that way.
But how was I supposed to explain the misunderstanding?
I didn’t mean that I wasn’t angry because I believed people would understand my good intentions.
I meant that getting mad at people like that was pointless—it would only hurt me in the end.
And that line about “Soon they’ll understand our sincerity!”—
I said that because I knew it would happen.
Because I already knew the future.
But how could I possibly tell him, “I know because I’m from outside this world—and I’ve played through all of this as a game!”
I could only hold my head in my hands.
“Working hard doesn’t mean everyone will recognize you,” Adrian said.
“This time, we were simply lucky things went well.
Many heroes of the Goddess… countless champions…
They all perished, used as pawns of religion and politics.”
His voice trembled with genuine emotion.
He had seen the records of history—preserved them, even added to them.
Perhaps that’s why he spoke that way: because he had witnessed so many heroes
save the world from evil, only to be discarded, used as tools, and forgotten.
“……”
I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.
“Miss Elaine, I hope you never walk that same path.”
Under the flickering candlelight, he looked straight into my eyes—unflinching.
His words struck deep, heavy and sincere.
It felt like something pressed down hard on my chest.
What was this feeling?
Gratitude.
He was truly worried about me.
And sorrow.
Because he said he didn’t want me to walk that path—
but in the end, he was the one who threw himself in to save me, and died for it.
In the game, I’d never had such a heartfelt conversation with him.
He’d been just an NPC—repeating the same programmed lines every time I talked to him.
The only glimpses of his thoughts came from a few event cutscenes.
But now, meeting him as a real person in this world…
It hurts.
My chest ached. Heavy, painfully so.
“…Th-thank you.”
For worrying about me.
As I said that, my eyes suddenly grew hot, and tears began to fall.
I really did like him.
I liked that he worried about me.
That he sacrificed himself for me…
Maybe—maybe I had even loved him.
But I hated it.
That he died.
That I could never see him again.
“Ah—n-no, wait, why are you crying?”
Adrian waved his hands stiffly, like a malfunctioning robot.
He clearly hadn’t expected me to cry.
Honestly, neither had I.
I thought I’d already gotten over his death.
But the image of him dying—blood on his lips—
replayed vividly in my mind, and the tears kept falling.
He had told me to forget.
Not to grieve for his sacrifice.
But to remember one thing—
that no one should ever have to die for the Goddess, or for this world.
That had been his final line.
“I won’t be anyone’s sacrifice. Never.
So please, Adrian—you take care of yourself too.
Don’t throw yourself away for anyone. Promise me… please.”
I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore.
We sounded like two people arguing not to sacrifice themselves for the other.
What kind of absurd comedy was this?
Tears kept flowing. I wiped them with my sleeve, again and again,
but they just kept coming.
“…Th-that’s unhygienic. H-here, use this.”
After a moment of awkward hesitation, Adrian pulled a handkerchief from his coat and handed it to me.
If it had been anyone else, I might’ve thought they were scolding me for being messy.
But Adrian was known for being obsessively neat, so I let it slide.
I took the handkerchief and wiped my tears.
It smelled like him—paper and wood, clean and familiar.
The scent calmed me.
“……”
And then came the wave of embarrassment.
How am I supposed to explain this?
I had just burst into tears and blurted nonsense in front of someone who was simply being kind.
He didn’t know that I’d seen him die.
From his perspective, I must’ve looked completely unhinged.
I needed a way out—fast.
Thankfully, panic made my brain run six times faster than usual.
And just like that, I found the perfect excuse.
“I-I don’t have any family, you see.
So… having someone worry about me like that—it just really moved me.
I’m sorry. I got a little emotional.”
A half-truth.
My family was alive and well—but not in this world.
So technically, yes: I had no one here who truly cared about me.
“I see. Think nothing of it.
You startled me a bit, but there’s nothing to apologize for, Miss Elaine.”
Adrian nodded gently.
“I-I’ll wash your handkerchief and return it later.”
I said, still hiding my red face in the fabric.
Adrian chuckled softly.
“Please do. As cleanly as possible, if you would.”
His playful tone made me laugh despite myself.
Crying one moment, laughing the next—what a mess.
“Well then, you must be tired after fighting all day. Get some rest.”
“Yes, you too, Sir Adrian.”
And just like that, another day passed.
The next morning, the city of Silvagrove was alive with excitement.
Perdia came by early, insisting on taking us all out for a promised meal at her favorite restaurant.
On the way there, townsfolk recognized us—cheering, thanking us.
A little girl even ran up and handed us flower crowns made from wild blossoms.
She’d made one for each of us—perfectly counted.
We couldn’t possibly refuse such a gift, so everyone put theirs on.
Lena and I looked perfectly natural with them.
Adrian and Leo, though a bit embarrassed, actually pulled the look off surprisingly well.
The real problem was Darren.
With his bulky, muscular frame, buzzed head, and the dainty little crown of wildflowers on top…
it was quite a sight.
Not exactly bad-looking—he did have that rugged charm—but…
let’s just say, it didn’t quite fit.
Anyway, we finally reached the restaurant.
“Here it is—the place I told you about!” Perdia announced proudly, spreading her arms wide.
It was a cozy local eatery that specialized in forest-grown ingredients—mushrooms, herbs, and the rare golden honey from the woodhollow bees.
Think of it like a Korean countryside diner serving home-style meals.
In this fantasy world, it was the equivalent of a “mountain vegetable rice pot” dish,
with hearty rye bread and—best of all—smoked ham made from premium forest wood.
I’m learning this recipe no matter what.
My cooking confidence had been growing lately,
and there was no way I was letting such delicious food pass me by without figuring out how to make it.
So there I was, demolishing the food with single-minded focus,
when Perdia placed a side dish on top of my rice with her chopsticks.
Her bright eyes sparkled with admiration—almost too much admiration.
“Thank you so much, Hero.
Because of you, I think I’ll be able to keep my job.
My father scolded me a bit, but—well, he always does.
Anyway, thank you for saving the forest. I really love this forest.”
She smiled, flashing her little canine teeth.
It was a lovely smile.
“I’m glad. It’s wonderful you can keep working in the forest you love.”
I answered sincerely, and ate the food she’d given me.
A pleasant bitterness of herbs filled my mouth—like the scent of the woods themselves.
“I think I’ll start loving this forest too.
Especially this ham—it’s amazing!”
That wasn’t me speaking.
For a moment, I wondered why my inner thoughts were being voiced aloud—
but it was Darren.
Still wearing that ridiculously mismatched flower crown,
he was tearing into a whole chunk of smoked ham like a comic book barbarian.
“Right? Hahaha! It’s our pride here in Silvagrove!
Come back anytime! I’ll treat you again whenever you visit!”
Perdia laughed heartily.
