Chapter 13: The Weakest Hero

  Delarium was burning.

  Smoke rose from shattered buildings like dying breaths escaping a broken body. The streets were filled with screams—some human, some not.

  And above it all, thunder ruled the sky.

  Rank 2 Hero.

  The God of Thunder.

  Lightning crawled across his armor like living veins, illuminating the battlefield in violent flashes.

  Beside him stood the weakest hero in humanity.

  Rank 200.

  Takiro Valen.

  Takiro’s fingers tightened around the weapon in his hand.

  The Thunder Sword.

  Even holding it felt wrong.

  Heavy.

  Not in weight.

  In responsibility.

  He still didn’t understand why he had been chosen.

  When demons invaded, heroes formed the strongest teams possible.

  They didn’t bring liabilities.

  They didn’t bring Rank 200.

  He glanced at the man beside him.

  “God of Thunder…”

  Before he could finish, the Rank 2 Hero spoke calmly, his eyes fixed ahead.

  “I’ll destroy the summoner demon.”

  Takiro blinked.

  “What?”

  “The demon responsible for summoning the harvesting machine,” he continued. “If it dies, the harvesting stops.”

  Lightning cracked behind him.

  He pointed forward.

  “You will handle the low-level demons.”

  Takiro froze.

  There were hundreds.

  Maybe more.

  His throat went dry.

  For a moment—

  He couldn’t breathe.

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  How?

  How could he possibly fight this many?

  His grip trembled.

  But then…

  A thought appeared.

  He trusted me.

  The God of Thunder trusted him.

  That alone lit something inside his chest.

  Fear didn’t disappear.

  But something else stood beside it.

  Determination.

  Takiro raised the Thunder Sword.

  He stepped forward.

  And swung.

  Wind exploded outward.

  A blade of compressed air tore through the battlefield—

  And a demon fell.

  Takiro’s eyes widened.

  He hadn’t expected that.

  Another demon charged.

  He swung again.

  Another air strike.

  Precise.

  Clean.

  Controlled.

  One by one.

  Demons fell.

  Not perfectly.

  Not effortlessly.

  But they fell.

  Behind him, lightning roared as the God of Thunder moved deeper into the battlefield.

  Takiro kept fighting.

  His breathing grew heavier.

  His mana slowly drained.

  But he didn’t stop.

  He couldn’t stop.

  Not anymore.

  Soon, the immediate area was clear.

  The God of Thunder paused.

  He glanced back at Takiro.

  “You’re wondering why I chose you.”

  Takiro froze.

  He hadn’t said it aloud.

  But Rank 2 already knew.

  “In battles like this,” the God of Thunder said quietly, “power is not the most important thing.”

  Lightning flickered softly around him.

  “Trust is.”

  Takiro listened.

  “When heroes start doubting each other… when they fear betrayal…”

  His voice grew colder.

  “They lose before the battle even begins.”

  He looked directly at Takiro.

  “But you…”

  For the first time—

  He smiled.

  “You don’t have that darkness in you.”

  Takiro’s eyes widened.

  “You’re not weak, Takiro.”

  The words hit harder than any attack.

  “You’re untrained. Undisciplined. Afraid.”

  Each word was true.

  “But not weak.”

  Lightning surged.

  “If you learn control…”

  His voice became absolute.

  “You could save a nation by yourself.”

  Takiro couldn’t speak.

  No one had ever said that to him before.

  Not once.

  The God of Thunder turned away.

  “Throw away your fear.”

  And walked forward.

  Takiro followed.

  Deeper.

  Into hell.

  Soon—

  They heard screaming.

  Human screaming.

  Takiro’s heart dropped.

  Civilians.

  Dozens of them.

  Surrounded.

  Fighting.

  Not running.

  Fighting.

  Men with broken weapons.

  Women shielding children.

  Old men standing between demons and families.

  They were losing.

  But they weren’t running.

  Takiro froze.

  Something inside him twisted painfully.

  They’re fighting…

  Without powers.

  Without ranks.

  Without titles.

  Just to survive.

  And me…

  A hero…

  Was afraid.

  Shame burned inside him.

  What kind of hero was he?

  Demons lunged toward the civilians.

  Takiro moved without thinking.

  He raised the Thunder Sword.

  But then—

  He hesitated.

  His strongest attack.

  The forbidden one.

  If he lost control…

  He could kill civilians too.

  His hands trembled.

  Fear returned.

  But then—

  He remembered the healer.

  He remembered Aqualis.

  He remembered the God of Thunder’s words.

  Trust.

  And for the first time—

  Takiro trusted himself.

  “I…”

  His voice shook.

  “…can do this.”

  He raised the sword.

  Mana flooded out of him violently.

  Wind screamed.

  The air itself began to fracture.

  “Thousand Razor Blades.”

  He swung.

  The world exploded.

  Invisible blades filled the battlefield.

  Hundreds.

  Thousands.

  They struck.

  Demons screamed.

  One after another—

  They fell.

  Not dead.

  But broken.

  Immobilized.

  Takiro dropped to one knee.

  Panting.

  His mana was nearly gone.

  But the civilians—

  Were alive.

  He looked up.

  Demons filled the ground.

  Not humans.

  Demons.

  Only demons.

  His attack…

  Hadn’t hit a single civilian.

  Not one.

  Silence filled his mind.

  Then—

  A voice.

  Not outside.

  Inside.

  You did it.

  His heart pounded.

  He did it.

  He controlled it.

  For the first time.

  Takiro slowly stood.

  Something inside him had changed.

  He reached up.

  And grabbed his badge.

  Rank 200.

  The symbol of his weakness.

  His shame.

  His fear.

  He stared at it.

  For years…

  He had hidden behind it.

  Used it as an excuse.

  “I’m weak.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  “I’m only Rank 200.”

  But not anymore.

  His hand tightened.

  And he tore it off.

  The metal snapped.

  He threw it away.

  It landed among the fallen demons.

  Takiro Valen stood.

  Not as Rank 200.

  But as a hero.

  End of Chapter 13