The Villain Carries the Holy Sword – Chapter 99.1

Chapter 99.1: A Small Hand’s Prayer (1)

「As if holding a newborn child in one’s arms.

As if sending off a bird that is just spreading its wings.

“My name is…”

The eyes of those looking at the hero were filled with warmth.

The Sorcerer King, who always sneered sarcastically, clasped his hands under the table.

Unbeknownst to him, the Sage trembled, and the Last Saintess kicked the Sage’s leg to stop him.

The others in the party were the same.

They listened to his name, which he was speaking for the first time.

“■■■.”

“……?”

They looked at each other’s faces in turn.

You could tell just by looking at their eyes.

That no one present could understand the hero’s name.

The hero tilted his head and spoke again.

“My name is ■■■. ■■■, ■■■.”

“I can hear it, but I can’t understand it.”

The Sorcerer King muttered, his face contorted.

“Even if it’s the first time I’ve heard it, I should be able to imitate the sound, but for some reason I can’t.”

The Sage, who was well-versed in all the languages of the world, sighed.

He knew everything from the language of the elves living on a faraway island to the language of the Orient beyond the desert, but he couldn’t remember the hero’s name.

“Oh, God.”

As the two intellectuals hung their heads, the Last Saintess sighed as if she had noticed something.

The hero, who had barely opened his mouth, and the others in the party looked back at her.

Tears streamed down from her eyes, which sparkled as if they had been sprinkled with starlight.

“How can you be so cruel?”

“Why, what?”

The Sorcerer King asked, and the Sage looked at him intently, seeking the truth. And the Saintess told the hero about the providence of God that had been arranged for him.

“God has not allowed the hero.”

“What does that mean when it comes to handling the 〈Sacred Treasures of the Four Seasons〉!”

One who is not allowed by God.

One whose existence is not recognized on this earth.

The Sorcerer King, knowing what that meant, stood up and hit the table.

On the other hand, the hero, who had just begun to speak the language of this world, innocently scratched his black hair and asked.

“Saintess, is there a problem?”

“God…… does not want you. He just wants you to do what you have to do as a hero and disappear without even leaving a name behind.”

He looked puzzled.

His black eyes, like those of a calf, were sunken, and the Saintess’s tears did not stop.

The hero fumbled and continued speaking.

“Passive.”

Thud.

He placed the pure white greatsword he had been carrying on his back on the table.

“Active.”

He crossed the sword hanging from his waist over the greatsword.

“And the ultimate move.”

He placed the brilliant crown he was wearing on his head on top of them.

“I have dedicated my future to the world.”

The hero fought.

Originally, he had nothing to do with fighting, but he had taken up the sword because he had to fight, and had come this far without stopping.

“But can’t I even leave my name?”

He had met countless people.

There were good people and bad people.

One thing for sure was that those who were here with him were the best people.

“Then what am I?”

His immature words, like those of a child, were filled with despair.

The Saintess, who had shared life and death with him, could not bring herself to lie.

“……A tool.”

“A tool to be used and thrown away?”

“Yes.”

The hero was silent for a moment.

He reflected on the world he had been trying to protect by burning himself.

He had spent the night and endured the winter.

He had gathered the embers and made spring bloom.

He had captured the sunlight and raised the summer, and he had let go of oblivion and experienced autumn.

Thus, spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

He had protected all the seasons of the world.

But the world did not want him.

The hero, who had been rejected in his very existence, looked up at the sky for a moment, dazed.

“It wasn’t for nothing that my 【Status】 didn’t have my name.”

His usual tone of voice.

The same slow speech.

His companions, who prided themselves on knowing everything about the hero, did not notice what was on his mind at that moment.

“So please call me John from now on.”

“What about your last name?”

The hero glanced at his companions, who were trying to add their own last names to him.

“In my world, there is a last name that is given to those whose identities are unknown. Doe.”

A hero who could not even leave his name.

■■■.

He defined himself by referring to himself.

“But in my country, they call it ‘Doe’. So from now on, I am ‘John Doe.’”

The moment he became ‘John Doe’ instead of ‘■■■’.

Very small silver dots appeared in the hero’s black hair and black eyes.

The boundaries of the silver dots wavered, as if a spider was stretching its legs.

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