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Chapter 46: The Hero’s Special Law

Whitewood.

Raksid Anubecia.

A declaration of execution from her.

I had long known that the Empire had a system for executing those who possessed mystical powers.

Long ago, there had been an incident in which someone with such powers lost control, resulting in massive casualties across several cities.

Thus, mystics in the Empire were strictly managed.

Even so, I hadn’t expected her to call for an execution so abruptly.

‘She didn’t even mention execution to Lucas.’

Yet with me, execution was her first suggestion.

“...Am I going to be executed?”

When I boldly asked, Whitewood's attendant, standing beside her, twitched an eyebrow.

The attendant’s glare was sharp and disapproving.

Perhaps it was because I had asked a question without proper decorum.

But when facing the prospect of immediate execution, manners were irrelevant.

Whitewood smiled faintly.

Her smile did little to ease my unease.

“Of course, even Imperial criminal law has its exceptions.”

In every world, there are those who stand above the law.

In the Flame Butterfly Arc, Whitewood was one such figure.

She was a living witness to the Empire's history.

In her presence, countless laws had vanished and reappeared over time.

At this point, laws held little practical value to Whitewood.

“Like me, for instance.”

A mystic herself, Whitewood was no exception to this category.

Her power, the White Tree.

Once, it was the world’s largest and most vibrant tree.

But when corrupted by a malevolent force, the tree shattered and was reborn as the mystical White Tree.

The woman before me had single-handedly stopped the White Tree’s rampage.

The White Tree had threatened the very existence of the Empire and countless kingdoms.

Whitewood, who stopped it, was regarded as one of the world’s greatest heroes.

“The Hero’s Special Law.”

I expected her to bring it up.

“It’s a law that applies to those who didn’t intentionally absorb mystical powers but acquired them while fighting against mystical forces.”

Whitewood rested her hands on her hips.

“And it’s a law I drafted myself.”

Whitewood was a hero, and she had fulfilled her role remarkably well.

To encourage the birth of future heroes who would stand against injustice,

She had personally proposed this law.

The Hero’s Special Law.

The Hero’s Special Law takes precedence over most other laws in the Empire, except for a few clauses deeply tied to the Imperial family.

This reflects the high regard the Empire holds for her.

“The birth of heroes must be encouraged. The world is constantly battling massive evils.

If jealousy and envy were to topple heroes, it would be a great national loss.”

She explained the reasoning behind the Hero’s Special Law as she stepped closer to me.

“So, boy,”

The corners of Whitewood’s lips curled upward.

Her transparent eyes glowed as she gazed through me.

“Are you a hero? Or a criminal to be executed?”

Under the Hero’s Special Law, I could become a hero.

Or under Imperial criminal law, I could face execution.

She demanded my answer.

I remained silent. I knew exactly what answer Whitewood wanted.

“I am too insignificant to call myself a hero.”

To be precise, I was merely acting the part of a hero.

This world had materialized from the Flame Butterfly Arc—a world I had played countless times.

I had no grand ideals. I was merely struggling to survive because my life was on the line.

In this world, countless bad endings would lead to its destruction.

To survive, I had no choice.

The true hero, Lucas, was dead.

So, in his place, I was nothing more than a fake hero.

“I lack the resolve to embody heroism, yet the world is too chaotic for me to lack resolve entirely.”

The Empire was currently in turmoil due to a succession struggle.

The factions of the First Prince and the Third Princess were locked in fierce competition, spilling much blood across the Empire.

The Empire must not fall.

It bore the burden of colossal problems, including the Demon Palace.

If the Empire collapsed, the world would plunge into ruin at an accelerated pace.

“Moreover, I know that heroism is not something one claims for oneself.”

Lucas had walked a heroic path.

But never once had Lucas sought to elevate himself as a hero.

He merely inspired admiration, reverence, and the desire to walk alongside him through his heroic deeds.

The heroes I had seen were like that.

A manufactured hero is nothing more than a paper doll.

“So, I am not yet a hero.”

Others must call someone a hero.

Self-proclaiming is meaningless.

“Pfft.”

Whitewood smirked and began to laugh.

Her attendant sighed quietly at her reaction.

“Puhahahahaha!”

Whitewood covered her mouth, laughing boisterously like the hero she was.

After laughing for a long time, she looked back at me.

“Interesting. ‘Not yet,’ you say.”

She had pinpointed the precise nuance in my words.

Whitewood grinned widely.

“Boy, you’re right. A hero is not someone who declares themselves as such.

It’s a position that naturally emerges as countless citizens speak their names with reverence.”

It seemed she was pleased with my response.

“You’ve given the answer I most wanted to hear, almost as if you read my mind.”

Sharp as always.

“Then, am I to be executed now?”

When I asked again, Whitewood scoffed.

“Boy, you are protected by the Hero’s Special Law. Even if you’re merely an aspiring hero.”

She had already investigated everything I had done.

From the mystical Steel Empress in the Great Forest of Spirits to the countless other challenges I had faced.

At least, that’s how the reports described it.

“More importantly, you’ve shown no signs of using your mystical powers with ill intent.”

She referred to my actions in the Gray Forest, where I fought off the Apostle and the Forest Keeper.

Every effort I had made had led to this moment.

Nothing had been in vain.

A scenario has its own narrative force.

By progressing through the scenario, the outcomes naturally follow.

“So, boy, you will not be executed.”

I tensed up, noticing the story taking a slightly different direction from the original scenario.

Fortunately, my life was spared.

"And boy, there is another peculiar clause in this Hero Special Law. It's partly why I am here today."

My fists clenched tightly.

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The moment I had been waiting for had finally come.

This was the reason I worked so hard to catch Whitewood's attention.

"It's a law I personally crafted to encourage heroes and aspirants."

I felt a sensation as if a pure white tree was blossoming behind Whitewood.

The tree emanated a divine halo.

Whitewood wore a serene smile.

Her eyes, looking at the young hero aspirant, glimmered with kindness.

"Boy, tell me what you desire."

The Hero Special Law.

It includes a declaration that she will personally bestow rewards as long as Whitewood lives.

She asked me, someone who qualified under this law, to state what I most desired.

Apart from the Emperor, she holds the most powerful voice in this world.

And when she spoke of “what I desire,”

it encompassed nearly everything one could imagine.

Swallowing nervously, I lifted my head.

"I... "

And I told her what I needed most.

* * *

After Whitewood left with a faint chuckle,

I also exited the hospital room.

Perhaps I’d fully rested during the exam period—my body seemed somewhat recovered.

As I walked down the hallway, I passed by several rooms.

Then, I abruptly stopped.

On one of the doors, I saw a name I recognized.

Nikita Cynthia.

The room was silent inside.

Was she sleeping?

‘No... probably not.’

Staring at the door, I raised my hand.

Knock, knock.

The sound of two knocks echoed.

No response came.

"Senior Nikita."

I softly called her name, sensing movement from inside.

"...Junior?"

Thankfully, she recognized me and responded.

I saw Nikita sitting by the bed when I slowly opened the door.

She stared blankly at me, then flinched and hastily hid what she had been holding.

Though I noticed it was a letter, I pretended not to see.

"How are you feeling?"

Nikita had collapsed from malnutrition and overwork.

When I asked about her condition, she flinched again but forced a smile.

"I’m fine."

I noticed a sandwich sitting on the drawer.

It had a single bite taken out of it.

This was her effort.

Despite being unable to eat,

she had at least tried to take a bite, perhaps to show appreciation for my gesture.

Knowing this made my heart ache even more.

"You’re not fine at all."

I gathered up the sandwich.

With the hot summer weather, leaving it out would only cause it to spoil.

Even as I acted, Nikita remained dazed.

She looked as though she had received some shocking news.

"Senior?"

"Ah, yes..."

Her response to my call was weak.

As she staggered while trying to stand, I rushed to support her, but she waved me off.

"I’m fine. Junior, really, I’m fine."

"But—"

"Junior, I have a request."

Nikita spoke with a trembling face.

"I’d like to be alone for now. Can you leave me be? You’re kind, so you’ll listen, right?"

I didn’t touch her any further.

Instead, I slowly turned and left.

"Alright. Please take care of yourself."

Even as I left, I clearly memorized her face.

In her eyes burned faint but undeniable anger.

I confirmed it for sure.

That letter she hid—

it wasn’t hard to guess its contents.

The letter likely contained the news that Nia Cynthia of the Marquis Cynthia family had been assassinated.

And this had ignited a fire of anger and vengeance in her heart.

The flames spread.

Unlike the time with Isabelle,

this was a merciless fire that would not be extinguished until its goal was achieved.

Act 3, Scene 6.

The Dragon of Calamity.

The curtain had risen.

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