The carriage carrying Arthur and Boram smoothly passed through the rear entrance of the Colosseum.
“Well, well.”
Arthur frowned upon spotting the emperor’s carriage that had already arrived. He must have taken his time too much, as he was even later than the Emperor.
Although both he and the emperor had only planned to watch the finals, it still wouldn’t look good to arrive later than the ‘Sun of the Empire.’
“I told you so.”
“Well, what can we do about it now that we’re late?”
Arthur shrugged at Boram’s nagging. He tended not to regret things that had already happened.
Besides, no one would dare criticize the hero who saved humanity for arriving a little later than the emperor.
As Arthur stepped out of the carriage with confident strides, respectful gazes from the administrators poured down on him.
This was a kind of attention he had never received when he was merely ‘Hero Ketron’s companion, Arthur.’ He had always been one step away from the spotlight.
This feeling is still exhilarating.
“This way, please.”
Arthur tried not to act haughty as he followed the mage who seemed to be in charge of escorting them.
“And His Majesty?”
“He is already seated.”
“My health hasn’t been good lately. I feel heavy hearted for failing in my duty as a subject, despite my best intentions.”
“Not at all. Everyone knows the hero’s condition hasn’t been ideal.”
The mage, in his position as a subject, couldn’t dare to say something like, ‘His Majesty will understand,’ but Arthur seemed to hear all the hidden words.
Waaaaaah!
Just as they were climbing the stairs toward their designated seats, a thunderous roar erupted.
“It seems we have a winner.”
“Yes, there was a very powerful candidate for victory from the beginning, likely that fellow.”
“Oh, is that so?”
Arthur was a skilled swordsman in his own right. While his skills were incomparably inferior to Ketron’s, he had still been a companion of the hero.
Of course, his talent for cunning rather than swordsmanship was more notable.
“Yes, what was his name again?”
Though the mage had observed him carefully, he seemed unable to immediately recall the name, likely because his position as an administrator hadn’t allowed him to continuously watch the tournament.
It was just as Arthur finished climbing the stairs and cast his gaze toward the distant arena that it happened.
“Ketron.”
A name that should never have reached his ears pierced Arthur’s consciousness.
“His name is Ketron, that fellow.”
Ah, so that fellow won after all.
The words that followed failed to reach Arthur’s ears.
Amidst the wildly cheering crowd, he heard a name that hadn’t been heard for a long time.
Ketron! Ketron! Ketron!
Waaaaaah!
“…Arthur.”
Boram called his name from behind, but Arthur couldn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on the man standing alone on the arena, holding the holy sword at an angle, and he couldn’t look away.
Though it was wrapped in cloth, Arthur, who had envied that sword more than anyone, couldn’t fail to recognize it.
Moreover, Arthur could never forget him. The man with whom he had shared joys and sorrows like family for years, only to betray him in the end.
Arthur stared at Ketron with a pale expression.
Standing tall and alone amidst the countless people chanting his name, with an impassive expression showing no hint of being impressed, it was a face all too familiar to Arthur. He had never forgotten it, not even in his dreams.
He had thought that if only he could find out where Ketron was, he could eliminate him. If he could just do that, everything Ketron had achieved would perfectly become his.
Arthur was now the hero, but he believed that if he could uproot this remaining source of anxiety, he would feel completely at ease.
So he had thought he would be secretly glad to find him. That he would feel like a victor.
But that wasn’t the case.
This reunion with a figure from the past failed to evoke even the slightest joy in Arthur’s heart.
Instead, Arthur’s expression turned cold as he felt his heart growing frigid.
The ‘protagonist’ of this moment, surrounded by countless people, receiving everyone’s attention.
Anyone could see that the current protagonist was Ketron, the tournament winner.
The people now showed no interest in the late-arrived hero. They were simply admiring and cheering for the young man who had demonstrated such amazing martial prowess.
Arthur ground his teeth.
At that moment, Ketron, who had been wearing a bored expression without focusing his gaze anywhere in particular, cast his eyes directly at where Arthur was standing.
“…!”
Arthur couldn’t help but flinch in surprise.
Like someone who had committed a crime.
No, no.
Arthur forcefully planted his retreating legs firmly in place.
When no one knew he had committed a crime and everyone had forgotten, what crime could he possibly have committed?
He was proud.
Arthur had occasionally imagined the moment of meeting Ketron again.
When he imagined such encounters, Ketron would always glare at Arthur with that uniquely cold expression he wore when extremely angry. A blazing blue flame. Yes, if he had to give it form, that’s what that anger would feel like.
But at this moment, even from a distance, no such emotion as anger was visible on Ketron’s face.
That gaze, which looked at Arthur with a calm, indifferent expression, was so plain and disinterested that it dissipated as if Ketron hadn’t even recognized him.
Arthur’s lips twisted.
You.
Even now when you’ve lost everything, why.
Why are you still so radiant that you make my insides churn?
“Arthur.”
Boram grabbed Arthur’s shoulder. Startled, Arthur turned around and met Boram’s eyes, who had her usual cold expression.
“Get a hold of yourself.”
There were many people around. If Arthur continued to show such unsettling reactions, it could cause gossip.
“…”
Arthur barely managed to compose himself. Biting the inside of his cheek, he forced a smile.
“…Let’s go to our seats.”
Boram nodded. Arthur moved to where the mage was guiding them.
Arthur’s gaze briefly turned toward Ketron, who appeared to be conversing with someone who looked like an administrator. He seemed calm. That cold face, as if this victory and all this attention were only natural, burned into his eyes.
Arthur couldn’t help but grimace before quickly relaxing his expression.
This is why I hated you.
You, who are the protagonist no matter what you do.
“Count Fontaine, have you arrived?”
Emperor Ricarius, who was already seated, greeted him warmly, and Arthur smiled naturally as if he had put on a different mask.
“I apologize for being late, Your Majesty.”
Of course, only those who knew him would notice the slight trembling at the corners of his mouth.
* * *
There were no surprises.
Ketron won.
From the beginning, he was the strongest man in the world. For such a person to participate in a tournament open to anyone, wasn’t that itself an ecological disturbance?
Watching Ketron shine amidst countless cheers, Eddie felt proud despite his complicated feelings.
See? He’s the protagonist you all forgot.
As the sound of cheers and applause filled the air, Eddie, who had unconsciously been clapping along, saw Ketron looking back at him. When Eddie raised his hands with a smiling face, pretending to applaud, Ketron smiled briefly.
“Sir Ketron, this way.”
Ketron looked at Eddie for a moment. When Eddie nodded, he mouthed “wait a moment” and followed the administrator.
Whatever it was, some kind of award ceremony would probably take place.
Thinking this, Eddie sighed as his body felt stiff, as if he had muscle pain from the tension, and looked around before sitting down on a crude looking chair.
It was a chair covered in a layer of dust, suggesting it wasn’t regularly used, but Eddie lacked even the energy to dust it off.
It was just as Eddie closed his eyes with a sigh.
Thunk—a sound like the gears of the world meshing and rolling echoed. Eddie’s eyes flew open, but of course, there were no such gears nearby.
But he knew what this sensation was. It was the same feeling he had experienced in that dark space where 〈The Hero Doesn’t Hide His Power Too Well: Part 2〉 had been.
That sensation of the story meeting a new flow and moving forward. That subtle sensation that couldn’t be put into words.
That sound and sensation that only Eddie in this world, only the ‘helper’ character of this story, could hear.
Under the still ear splitting cheers, Eddie realized one thing the moment he heard that sound.
That this was the sound of the original work, which had ended in a mess, moving toward a proper ‘ending.’
That ‘Eddie,’ or rather Lee Jeong-hoon, had been transported into this world for that purpose, and that Eddie was a character positioned to serve as the helper.
It was perhaps an instinctual realization.