Shinwa Densetsu no Eiyuu no Isekaitan - Volume 9 - Chapter SS1

The Sun and the Moon

Give a man three days, it was said, and he would mature beyond recognition. One man certainly lived up to the proverb. He faced an army of enemies and did not run, fighting on even when he was alone on the battlefield. The abyss swirled in his obsidian eyes, his midnight hair fluttered like strands of silk, and his dark garb billowed in the gale. The black blade in his hand radiated a terrible might.

He suffered none before him to live, and he suffered none behind him to die. His allies slowly realized that they were safe. He stood shorter than a normal man, with hints of youth in his bearing, but his presence brought a sense of safety that exceeded his stature.

“He’s gotten strong, hasn’t he?” Meteia whispered.

The archpriestess—Rey—nodded quietly. Strong, her handmaiden said. Perhaps it was not as simple as that. When Hiro had first been summoned to this world, all he had wanted was to go back home, but after some time under their supervision, he had discovered a desire to aid their cause. Delighted that he wanted to help, she had shared her knowledge. Perhaps she had found her own kind of refuge in his kindness.

Now he was Mars, the most famous general in the land, and the people loved him as much as they did Artheus. Not all adored him, of course. More than a few parties feared that he coveted the throne for himself. Still, he paid their suspicions no mind, and Rey lent no ear to them either. Indeed, if he ever did seek the throne, she would see that he got it. Her brother would not object—after what this boy had sacrificed, he had earned anything he might ask of them. But she knew that was not what he wanted.

“He is my brother,” a voice resounded. “I would expect nothing less.”

A man like a lion stepped into view, blond of hair and gold of eye. He stood as slender as a woman, and his handsome face was softer-lined than was typical of the von Grantz bloodline, but there was no question that he embodied the lion’s spirit. He was a veteran of the battlefield, and he carried himself with the authority to prove it. Dazzling and fiery as the sun, he had a natural magnetism that drew others to him, and it shone fiercely even in this obscure corner of the field. His gravitas compelled those around him to fall silent and bow their heads.

“Held yet matures, sister. I daresay he now stands shoulder to shoulder with me.”

Rey understood what her brother was implying: that Hiro’s growth was unnatural. Unease filled her chest. It was hard to imagine this was part of the Spirit King’s plan—nobody would ever have imagined he would become this powerful. It was them who had transformed him so.

“One might speculate,” Artheus said, “that even on his Earth, he was born to be a king.”

Perhaps that was why had been chosen at all. Perhaps that was why he now found himself the plaything of a strange fate.

It was dangerous to allow him to linger in this world any longer. Nothing good would come of it—not for him, nor for them, nor for Aletia. Yet, selfishly, Rey was scared to let him go. The thought of saying farewell filled her with dread. She recognized the feeling for what it was—an emotion she’d never imagined she would develop, but that was too powerful to resist now that it had taken root. She knew her wishes were selfish. She regretted the days she had spent indulging his compassion, knowing she was turning him from his rightful path. Even so, the emotions in her breast would not be restrained. Her desires would not be denied. Now that she had tasted the nectar of the forbidden fruit, she could not help but reach out and take it. Its flesh would burn like hellfire, but there was no longer any going back.

“Do not worry, sister,” Artheus said. “I shall find a way. I swear it.”

Her younger brother smiled as bright as the sun, and she nodded in reply. The rest of the world might call him unscrupulous, contemptible, even wicked, but he was the only family she had left and he had always cared for her.

“Artheus! Rey! Meteia!” A voice arose from the battlefield.

Rey turned to the noise. Hiro was running toward them, innocent as a puppy, waving with a guileless smile on his face. He looked no different from the day they had first met. To see how calculating he was on the battlefield, nobody would ever imagine that he could look so gentle.

As Rey clutched her hand to her chest, she realized she was feeling a little jealous. A resentful voice in the depths of her heart grumbled that he had called Artheus’s name first. She smiled sheepishly, but even her own pettiness was soulful in a sense. She had never imagined she would be capable of these kinds of emotions.

You are the moon to me, Lord Hiro. A healing light that salves all wounds.

Artheus was her sun, and the War God was her moon. Both were as essential as the other, but—with apologies to her brother—she held Hiro dearer. She would never say it aloud, but the moon was her light.

“Rey! How are you feeling? You’re not cold, are you? Do you want my jacket?”

He moved to shrug off his overcoat, but she stopped him with a hand, smiling ruefully. She could not possibly borrow his regalía. Aside from anything else, she would risk earning its ire. After all, they were rivals in a sense.

“No, thank you. I would rather not be strangled to death today.”

They certainly made for an odd group, but there was something golden in the time they spent together. She prayed silently to the Spirit King that the joy she felt might last a little longer.