Hero's Coffin Chapter 56

Chapter 56

After a moment of silence, the red collar slowly disappeared. Though it had been just for an instant, he had felt as if the collar was choking him, so he was relieved that breathing had become much easier.

Harenir's aura had subsided a little. But still seeming unable to fully trust his words, he looked him over with uneasy eyes.

"...Can necromancy do such things?"

"It's an ability related to souls. I can't resolve it immediately, but it should be possible if I take some time."

In truth, he was surprised too that Isaph was capable of such a thing. He was just speaking according to what the status window told him, but how could connecting souls alone undo a Dium's curse?

"I'll break the connection as soon as the curse is gone. I don't like this state either."

"..."

"I'll say it again, I can't control your soul at will. Even making this connection was barely possible."

He answered as calmly as possible, reading the questions in Harenir's eyes. If Harenir had been in a normal state, he probably couldn't have touched his soul, but it seemed he had managed to make the connection through the vulnerability created by the curse weakening him.

It felt a bit unfair that he was showing murderous intent and continuing to doubt someone who had tried to help him, but only a little. About 0.01. He thought it was natural wariness given what Isaph had done. Moreover, wasn't it quite absurd to suddenly hear that souls had been connected? It sounded almost like a vital point had been grasped.

Of course, it wasn't such a fatal context at all, but rather a situation closer to sharing status. Perhaps like party members sharing damage.

So he could roughly feel how intense the pain from the curse Harenir had suffered was. From the moment the souls were connected, energy had been swirling faintly inside his body, suppressing the curse, and if he peeked slightly, he immediately felt pain as if his whole body was being pierced by thousands of needles.

He was newly amazed at how Harenir had endured such pain and said he was fine. Just as he was admiring how well he could act, Harenir asked,

"...Why go this far? You only need to help with searching the Encroachment Zone."

That was something he was curious about too. Even Isaph, the villain of this world, trying to protect the hero? Was it because he was such a crucial existence in this world that helping the hero had appeared as a quest from the start? As he pondered, Harenir's gaze fixed on him, and he impulsively opened his mouth.

"I just..."

"...Just?"

"I need to get my sentence reduced later. It would be troublesome if you collapsed here."

However, once he started speaking, no particularly plausible answer came to mind, so he just blurted out any reason. But after saying it, it seemed like the most appropriate answer. Saying he wanted to help because Harenir would be in pain, or showing kindness to the hero, would be too strange for Isaph to say.

At his answer, Harenir let out a small "Ha." It sounded a bit like a dry laugh... Somehow, it felt strange. No, was this for a sensory reason?

His body kept hurting.

Was it because of the curse? But even though the energy inside his body was blocking that curse, there was still pain circling his entire body. His palms hurt, his shoulders, and his abdomen tingled. As if he had been pierced.

As he mulled over those areas, he soon reached a very unsettling conclusion. Considering how Harenir hadn't been able to break through the barrier he had put up earlier, and how his whole body now felt worn out...

He grasped Harenir's left hand.

"...?"

Harenir's gaze turned to him at the sudden action. He looked very puzzled, but strangely, he remained still this time too. He didn't shake off his hand but just stared blankly, and he slowly looked back and forth between their hands.

He rubbed the spot on Harenir's firm palm that corresponded to where he felt pain in his left hand, pressing down with his thumb as if wiping something away. Moving as if removing something, what appeared on his finger was...

"...Blood?"

Then, a gaping wound appeared on the left hand that had clearly been fine just before. It was half-healed, but blood was still seeping from it. It looked as if he had dispelled an illusion.

He remembered that wound. It was the wound from when he had taken the Dium's arrow in Mela's place, and he had definitely recovered perfectly and extended his intact hand to Mela...

Whoosh, Harenir stepped back. In an instant, he moved a couple of steps away and looked at him with a cold face. Fierce wariness rose in his glaring eyes.

"What did you just do?"

"...What did you do?"

He was dazed. He had just done it because his palm kept hurting, wondering if maybe... and blood really appeared. It was as if he had seen through to Harenir's essence when their souls connected.

So Harenir's state that he felt now was...

"...Why is your body such a wreck?"

Harenir was now beyond just being in tatters, close to being completely battered. He was bewildered that Harenir could even stand. While he himself boasted trash-level durability, if his durability was in the negatives to begin with, Harenir seemed like a shattered rock forcibly pieced back together.

Why? Wasn't he the hero who boasted perfect recovery thanks to God's love?

"Ha. So you approached to discern my weakness in this way."

While he was confused, Harenir twisted his lips. He sneered coldly, seeming to think that was the reason he had connected their souls. The atmosphere turned hostile, but rather than shrinking back, he just felt a subtle emotion.

Harenir's appearance looked just like someone who, for the first time, had their truth exposed to someone and was bristling with thorns in bewilderment.

"That's right. From the start, my recovery ability can't completely heal severe injuries. It can only make it 'appear' that way."

"..."

"What? Do you want to laugh now that you've seen my state? Do you want to mock me as a pathetic hero who acted so high and mighty? In such a state..."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

He cut off Harenir's words and asked. Recalling the attitudes of the companions he had seen so far, they firmly believed that the hero recovered perfectly, so he asked out of curiosity, and Harenir paused.

Looking at him intently with eyes that seemed not to have expected such a question...

"What would happen if I faltered? Everyone only believes in me."

"The ones following you now are your closest subordinates, aren't they? They're even willing to go along with faking the hero's death, so why..."

"If they're close enough to go along with such an absurd and dangerous plan, how much do you think they believe in me? What good would come from telling such people that my recovery ability has limits? Use your head and think about it."

His tone was fiercely sarcastic, but he didn't get riled up as usual. Even if he only recovered halfway, wasn't it still an amazing recovery ability? But he had seen the trust, respect, and adoration of many people towards him.

Eyes full of wonder, as if seeing the manifestation of God.

Even those who engaged in thievery thought of the hero in the face of calamity, didn't they? He himself hadn't worried about Harenir getting hurt, and in a way, that had made him feel at ease. The fact that there was someone in this group who would never break down had unconsciously been a solid support.

He couldn't imagine how long Harenir had been showing only a flawless, perfect appearance. He wouldn't be able to understand why he had tried to act that way. Just, the only impression he had now was...

"...You must have been lonely."

"Don't try to show unnecessary sympathy. It's pathetic."

"No, it's just... I was like that."

It was an impulsive statement that came out. He had always been alone. They say the loneliest time for someone who lives alone is when they're sick. Usually, he didn't mind being alone, but when sick, his heart would become weak too, and he'd feel needlessly lonely.

In the past, when he was suffering from a high fever, taking care of himself had been too hard. He had to get up with his sick body to feed himself and take medicine. Taking care of himself had been burdensome. Even on the day he finally shook off the cold, instead of just feeling relieved, the quiet afternoon air had felt heavier, and he had curled up in bed for a long time. As if hiding from certain emotions.

And sometimes it was lonely not having anyone to talk to about all these experiences. There were times when he had to watch emotions that suddenly surged up, unable to suppress them even though they were familiar, and that memory suddenly came to mind now.

"..."

Harenir's blue eyes looking at him were calm.

What day's silence were he and Harenir recalling now? Would that time bear even a slight resemblance?

"...I'll help with the treatment."

Perhaps because of that, another impulsive statement came out. He bit his lip, regretting it as soon as he said it. This was truly unnecessary meddling. But suddenly, those eyes as beautiful as the sky, those noble blue eyes, looked so worn and tattered.

After moving his lips a couple of times, he finally sighed and turned his gaze away. Since he couldn't take back words already spoken, he decided to just brazenly continue.

"It must be difficult to treat your shoulders or back alone."

It was also partly to apologize. Because he had exposed what Harenir had been hiding. Though it was a truth he didn't particularly want to know either, he had moved to check the blood on his hand, after all.