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“Haaah!”
Iska shouts with enthusiasm and slashes at me with his wooden sword. He is the hero of the game, so his physical potential is high, and he is fast…but….
“Woah woah woah…!”
I walked over and avoided it sideways, it plunged headfirst into the ground.
“So don’t close your eyes when you swing your sword. Look at your opponent.”
“Haa… yes!”
Recently, I’ve been giving Iska and Fio sword training as Ariamel asked me to give them some lessons because they had been working hard on their housework and learning to read. I don’t know what kind of discussion took place between the three of them, but judging from the worried look on Ariamel’s face right there, I’m sure she is not completely satisfied.
As for magic, it was after they were able to read the letters perfectly. They have to be able to read spell books first, and there’s nothing I can teach someone who thinks learning is stupid.
There are those who want to learn but don’t even have the opportunity to do so. Do whatever you can to survive.
“Iska, get some rest. Next, Fio.”
“yes!”
―――――
(Third-party perspective)
“Ares-sama, it’s about time. Are you ready to leave?”
In a room lined with luxurious furnishings, a man in a robe calls out to a blonde-haired young man called Ares, who is sitting on a sofa.
“………yes”
The young man has a beautiful face, but his expression is dark and his voice lacks enthusiasm.
“Then I will send someone to pick you up right away, please wait a moment until then.”
Upon hearing the young man’s reply, the robed man exits the room with a smile on his face. And as soon as he closed the door, his expression looked troublesome and he let out a sigh.
“How was the hero-sama?”
A man in white armor who was waiting outside the room called out to a man in a robe.
“It’s the same as always…it’s depressing to me to have to take care of such a gloomy kid, even though he’s an oracle.”
The face of the man in the robe shows no trace of respect for Ares, who was called the hero.
“He was an amateur who had never even held a sword before, but after only three months of training, he was no match for an ordinary knight.”
“Of course. Rather, I’ll be in trouble if he doesn’t get to the Holy Knight class as soon as possible. It’s already been announced to each country that the Hero has been chosen.”
“…So the next one is the saint…? I believe it’s in the neighboring country of Basto…”
“Hey”
The man in the robe interrupts the man in white armor.
“The saint is from this country. You never know who is listening, so don’t say a word.”
The man speaks in a tone of voice that says whether or not he is there.
“…hm”
(If you ask me, it seems that he was born into a wealthy merchant family, but…I never realized that this generation’s heroes and saints were both orphans. Oh yeah, there was a stupid party in a town called Bastok that I invited to join the party of heroes, but they refused.)
“…Fu, then let’s go to pick up the ‘Saint-sama'”
“…hm”
The man in white armor was glaring at the man in robes from behind as he walked away.
(What’s with the welcoming? You’re just forcibly bringing them here, ignoring their will…isn’t that just kidnapping? How can such a man be a bishop…)
On this day, the oracle hero Ares, a bishop, several knights and squires, and a holy knight from a country called Storia Holy Land headed for the neighboring country called Bastok.
Their goal was to bring Saint Ariamel back to the Holy Land of Storia without telling the neighboring country about it.