Volume 6 Chapter 64 Heroes Of Justice
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Honestly, you’re something else,” IMiss Floria muttered while cradle her head in her hands.
She stood there right in front of me, brows furrowed deep in thought. If you keep making that face, those fine lines will stick around. And you’re way too pretty for that, Teacher.
Japanese women always looked twenty years younger than they actually were—maybe it was anti-aging stuff? Or just better cosmetics? I bet there’s a huge gap in skincare tech between our worlds. If we can bridge that, women here could keep their youth too.
Not that I know anything about beauty products. Back in Japan, that kind of stuff never crossed my mind. But I do remember hearing about loofah water—supposedly great for the skin. I’ve seen loofah-like plants here too, so maybe it’s something we could try.
”This time, you got through it thanks to sheer luck,” Miss Floria said, sighing quietly. “But this is typical noble harassment. If you can’t decline gracefully, you’ll just be pushed around forever.”
She was worrying about the Bearded Baron’s unreasonable demands like they were her own problems. That soft-hearted kindness really made her feel like an older sister. It’s dangerous how charming she is.
I had suspected it was that kind of bullying. That’s why, the moment I returned to the capital, I headed straight to Miss Floria. Reporting to the Bearded Baron first would’ve been like walking into another trap.
”Was it still a bad move? This?” I asked, holding up the parchment.
God Hortus’s crest shimmered faintly on the scroll. Strange… there’s no mana at all. Could it be divine energy? A god’s power? I’ve started getting used to weird things like this in this world.
”No, the result was perfect,” she said, folding her arms. “But don’t expect such good luck to happen twice.”
Apparently, this divine seal is a really big deal. It’s like hitting the jackpot or something. Come to think of it, Mr. Raoh did mention wanting to start a lottery. Said it was easy and had good profit margins.
”Who should I hand this to?” I asked. “And what if they ignore it afterward?”
If they did, wouldn’t divine punishment fall on them? But I guess there are always nobles sneaky enough to find a way around even that.
”I doubt anyone’s that foolish,” Miss Floria said, her tone cautious. “But… I can’t say for sure. With this contract, even the Holy King could be judged. This kingdom’s system is… special. If it came to it, they might just bring in a new monarch from outside.”
That’s right. The Holy King isn’t passed down by blood. They’re selected from minor royal families. So there’s no shortage of replacements.
Miss Floria suddenly smiled, like she’d just thought up something outrageous. Her face lit up like a villainess about to flip the board—but since she’s on our side, I’m all for it.
”Let’s leave it with the Great Temple for now,” she said, brushing back her hair. “And… if possible, I’d like to be appointed as an official in your country. Any title is fine.”
I had thought about giving it to the Temple too. When it comes to divine matters, leaving it to the experts feels safest.
Still, why now? Why is she choosing to join us now, of all times?
”Are you okay with leaving your position at court?” I asked. “Ah, if you’re coming over, I’d love for you to be our Minister of Justice.”
”Minister? That sounds intense right out of the gate,” she said with a laugh. “But I’m fine. Anyone with sense already ran from that place.”
Her tone suddenly became light and casual. She’s honestly happy. In formal settings, people always act polite, no matter what they really think. But a subordinate who speaks plainly is rare—and precious. I wonder if the Holy King has someone like that?
When she’s like this, she really does feel like a dependable older sister. No wonder Miss Nina looked up to her.
”Huh? You’re already assuming we’ll lose the war?” I asked.
”Huh? There’s no chance of winning, is there?” she replied without hesitation.
Now that she says it, yeah, that’s true.
Refusing to give up even in a hopeless situation isn’t always a virtue. It may look noble, but it only leads to more suffering for soldiers and civilians. Miracles are called miracles because they’re rare. Gamblers who keep going usually lose everything.
I didn’t feel that attached to the Holy Kingdom, but I figured the nobles would hold out longer. Turns out, they’re quick to cut their losses. If someone like Miss Floria is already moving, the others must’ve bailed ages ago.
She’s planning to make the most of this divine seal while preparing for the aftermath of the war.
Even if we get canal usage rights now, if the kingdom loses, it’ll all vanish. But… what if we hand the divine seal to the Larse Empire after the Holy Kingdom falls?
By this world’s rules, the new rulers can ignore the old king’s contracts. But if the invaders use it to claim legitimacy, things change. After all, it’s divine proof.
Whoever grants me the canal rights could be seen as the rightful sovereign of the Holy Kingdom—recognized by the gods themselves.
Apparently, the position of Holy King rotates between minor royal families because it’s too powerful. The capital of the Holy Kingdom used to be the heart of the Sacred Empire that once ruled the world, and the Holy King is the last symbol of that era.
Only royals descended from the Sacred Emperor are allowed to be Holy Kings. The emperors of the Larse and Totoana Empires are both said to be descendants too. Until now, they kept each other in check, neither claiming the throne.
…Wait, what does that mean?
My hands started trembling. If we use the divine seal right, the Larse Emperor could become the Holy King—and no one could object. Even the Totoana Empire would have to acknowledge it.
I could see it now. The Holy King announces the revival of the Sacred Empire, crowning himself as the Sacred Emperor. God Hortus might even be declared the main deity. He’s already in the top three gods—it’s not unthinkable.
And our Sabroa Dukedom? According to Miss Floria, it’d be recognized as an official fiefdom. If our country—the one in the contract—disappears, the new rulers would be obligated to protect us.
It’s getting out of hand. At this point, the canal rights are just a bonus.
Miss Floria called this the ultimate trump card, arriving at the perfect moment. All I can do is thank Bearded Baron. I’m really glad I came to consult with Teacher. As expected of a legal expert—no way I could’ve come up with this myself.
* * *
After that, I delivered the scroll and Jamil to the Grand Temple, and the cardinal instantly grasped everything. I even caught a glimpse of a chilling, delighted smile.
Sometimes, I wonder if this person is the real final boss.
”Leave it all to me,” the cardinal said with eerie confidence. “The war will end soon. After a brief battle, the Holy King will surrender as planned.”
Wait, it’s already that far along? Everything’s already been decided. All the people fighting with their lives on the line have no idea. I used to be one of them.
”The capital won’t be caught in the fighting, right?” I asked quietly.
”Of course not,” the cardinal replied. “If something happened to the sanctuary, the world itself would end.”
Sanctuary…? Ah, they mean the Grand Temple. That smile says it all—this person probably only cares about their own safety.
As usual, their thinking feels grounded and worldly. If saving the capital’s people is the result, then maybe that’s good enough in the end.
”That’s why Your Majesty should avoid direct contact with Larse Empire’s soldiers from now on,” he said, glancing away. “You never know whose grudge you might trigger.”
I get it. Even if this is all staged, it’s still a war. If you hurt someone by mistake, they might hold it against you. And once it’s over, they’ll be part of the winning side’s army. It’d only stir up future trouble.
”I’ll just keep out of sight until it’s all over,” I said with a shrug.
Right. I could head to Ms. Mahal’s place now and witness Ms. Nina’s return. Timing-wise, it’s just right.
* * *
”In your position, that’s probably not realistic, is it?” she said, tapping her chin. “Hmm… if you know the way to the stone wall, I want you to take command of the temple’s transport team.”
That old fortress is called the “Stone Wall of the Tomb Keeper.” They say it used to be a grave marker, though it doesn’t feel like one anymore. Like the pyramids back on Earth, the sense of mourning has faded with time. It’s hard to tell if it was ever truly a tomb.
Hmm… maybe there’s some ancient treasure buried around there. Wouldn’t hurt to look next time I pass through.
”I’m decent with transport work… probably,” I replied, scratching my head. “But is that really okay? Wouldn’t the Grand Temple look biased for siding with the Holy Kingdom too much? That could backfire after the war.”
”It’s fine,” she said calmly. “I’m also sending potions to the Larse Empire’s camp. The wounded should be saved, no matter which side they’re on. That’s the spirit of universal love.”
Her words sound noble—almost too noble.
But for me, this is perfect. If the Grand Temple gives the order, I can ignore the Holy Kingdom’s commands without issue. Separate authority chains are a beautiful thing. It might feel a little unfair, but the generals all know this is a rigged match. Everyone’s playing their part.
If this is to keep grudges from forming, then I guess this fake war has some merit.
Back in Japan’s Warring States period, not every battle was serious. Depending on politics, sometimes it was just for show. When war is a tool, going all-out isn’t always the answer… Now that I think about it, Mr. Pansy mentioned the Larse Empire’s commander is the kind who actually wants to fight.
That kind of person is a real headache. Like Yoshitsune—he was a genius swordsman and war hero from old Japan, but he couldn’t read the room to save his life. No matter how skilled he was, he ignored politics and made enemies without realizing it. That’s why his own brother, Yoritomo—the first shogun of the Kamakura shogunate—eventually cast him aside. If anything, I’d rather be like Kiso Yoshinaka. He was a bold and reckless commander too, but at least he shook things up before going down.
Now that I’ve got a new job, I need to gather the transport team again. If I’d known this earlier, I wouldn’t have dismissed them.
The Merchant Guild rep complained it’s hard to find people right now, but the moment I posted a notice, all the usual faces came right back. Looks like they blew through their earnings at the guild tavern and had nothing better to do. They were in the middle of celebrating.
Even though they make decent money, they spend it all and stay right where they started—and honestly, they’re fine with that.
The Merchant Guild really knows how to use people.
They act rough and take dirty jobs without hesitation, but I don’t think they’re true villains. Maybe it’s not so bad if people like this exist too. A society where everyone lives perfectly isn’t necessarily ideal.
”Clear water has no fish. The pure streams of Shirakawa are too clean, which makes me long for the muddy fields of Tanuma,” I murmured, half to myself—an old saying from my homeland. Shirakawa stands for a world too perfect and honest to survive, while Tanuma means the messy, flawed places where life actually takes root.
People back then really knew how to put things into words. But these days, the capital’s not just muddy—it’s more like a sewer. I guess it’s all about degrees.
When I mentioned I left Jamil at the Grand Temple, the drunkards thanked me, strangely enough. Even people like them seem to have loyalty and care for their comrades. I’ve started to respect them a little.
Some of the roughest-looking guys wagged their metaphorical tails at me. It was almost cute. But I can’t forget—they’ve done horrible things. They admitted it themselves, and some of their acts were beyond forgiveness.
Rehabilitation, punishment, sin, and redemption… it’s complicated. Makes me wish I’d studied more back in Japan. School alone doesn’t teach you how to be a decent person.
* * *
The Grand Temple’s potions weren’t loaded into barrels, but placed inside a lavish treasure chest. Rather than stacking it with other supplies, it was set in the very center of the carriage—like it was carrying divine fortune itself.
It felt like a portable shrine. From a practical standpoint, it was a ridiculous waste of space, but rituals aren’t meant to be rational. And honestly, the over-the-top reverence did make it feel more sacred.
Three elderly priests pulled out velvet cloth dyed a deep crimson and draped it around the wagon. It was strange how even a beat-up cart could look elegant with a bit of careful decoration.
The drivers, newly awakened in their faith, looked ready to cry. Seeing your own cart dressed up like that… yeah, it’d move anyone. Of course, it’ll all be stripped away once the mission’s done.
Velvet really does shine. They say weaving it by hand takes a ridiculous amount of time, so naturally, it’s expensive.
It’s basically shouting, “Please rob us,” but that’s where I come in. Thanks to the Grand Temple’s prestige, not many thieves would dare target us. If someone does attack, we have permission to retaliate without holding back. The doctrine’s clear—those who oppose the gods must be destroyed.
Velvet, huh… Back in Japan, it wasn’t that expensive. Should be mass-produced by machines, right? If only I had a blueprint for a power loom. I’m good with metal, but without knowing the structure, I can’t build one.
There was an old sewing machine in the dwarves’ treasure vault, though. Maybe no summoned Hero ever brought a loom with them. Not that it’s portable anyway.
Once the cart was fully decorated, the priests unexpectedly climbed aboard too. Now that I think about it, they did load in fluffy cushions earlier. So they’re coming with us, huh? Guess they want to guard the precious potions in person.
They even brought plenty of food and water, all prepped without a word. I was planning to leave tomorrow, but with everything set, there’s no reason to wait.
I can’t go see Ms. Nina now. I really wanted to witness her return… and also burn the image of her bottled-up form into memory one last time. Not in a weird way—Ms. Mahal wouldn’t let me in either way.
I’d even considered treating myself to a visit at Miss Floria’s place tonight, just to relax. Not out of desire—more like reconnecting with an old teacher. But that plan’s ruined too.
It’s not even urgent work, but the old priest is unusually fired up. “If we leave a day early, we might save a day’s worth of lives,” he said, eyes blazing. With that kind of reasoning, I couldn’t argue.
* * *
We traveled the same route as the other day. The cargo’s much lighter this time, so both horses and people were in high spirits, like they were already celebrating victory.
Just in case, I used Radar Scan to watch the surroundings. The road was packed with armies heading to the front and supply lines. No way would any bandits pick a fight in this mess.
Still, it’s important to relax when you can afford to. Though too much of that turns into carelessness.
Whenever we passed a noble’s caravan, the drivers lit up, loudly judging them. “Skinny horses,” they muttered. “Torn flags.” They shouted their opinions like they were nobles themselves.
The wagons ahead and behind got dragged into it too, and their loud voices echoed along the road. I winced, wondering if the nobles could hear.
The drivers kept saying many nobles had terrible gear. They must have been caught off guard and didn’t prepare right. The colors on their clothes had faded badly, especially fabrics. But some outfits had aged nicely, with a subtle, worn texture.
”Alright, let’s unify our regular army’s gear into a sleek design, one that ages well,” I said, thinking of a smoky silver look. “What’s with yellow or red? Do they think this is a game? Especially yellow—fades fast and looks useless.”
No matter their rank, most nobles brought about ten knights each. Each group had several carriages, so around twenty people total. They didn’t seem serious about war.
Some nobles’ drivers shouted loudly without holding back. They stopped short of badmouthing us—probably out of respect for the Great Temple. Mostly they cursed the terrible roads, but I was a little glad to hear some praise for Sabroa Dukedom’s roads. Compared to these, their roads felt like heaven.
We got stuck in a huge traffic jam in the mountains. The road was narrow with few passing spots. It was impossible for carriages to pass each other easily. The stupid nobles refused to give way, making everything worse. The quiet emptiness from a few days ago felt like a lie.
The war might be close, but the Holy Kingdom’s army was already a mess before the fight even started.
The rest area near the water source was even more crowded. It was the only open spot nearby, so many carriages were parked. The place was about the size of a highway rest stop, but felt bigger. Why? Because carriages here were like toys compared to giant buses and trucks.
The horses waited in line to drink water. They really ate and drank a lot, their bodies huge. My magic bag held plenty of water, but I couldn’t reveal it here.
Looks like we couldn’t go any further today.
”No rush,” I thought. But giving up a warm night with Miss Floria felt like a waste.
It was too early to sleep, so I found a spot while there was still space and prepared to camp, using the carriage as a wall. Even with canopies, drivers usually slept outside unless it rained. They just lay on the ground in their clothes with a single blanket. Tough people.
The knights in armor were the problem. Their armor was lighter and more comfortable than usual, but sleeping in it was still hard. We gave each knight a compact, easy-to-assemble tent. These tents were rare here, but simple enough to set up by feel under starlight. Still, some struggled to pitch them.
I wondered if the tent design was flawed.
”Sir Apostle…” one driver whispered secretly.
I noticed it was probably Baron with the beard. Why he was here, I didn’t know, but running into him felt awkward. No, he was some kind of military supervisor, so it made sense. What bothered me was he had about seven Summoned Heroes with him.
”Oh dear, being here at this time… it seems your mission failed,” he said arrogantly.
I wished he hadn’t noticed me and just passed by. He was cocky today, probably because he had strong escorts. Such a childish attitude. Wasn’t there a strategy that said “Treat weak enemies with mercy”? Should I be merciful? It felt weird.
”That contract was fulfilled. The divine seal is deposited in the Grand Temple,” I answered calmly.
How would he respond?
I wanted to end this quickly without drama. He deserved divine punishment for the world’s sake, but that was for the gods to decide.
Behind me, some drivers who had warmed up to me watched with anticipation. Maybe they enjoyed seeing others’ trouble. Since Jamil had already been punished, they thought the bearded Baron, the cause of it all, deserved more.
”Contract? If even one barrel was stolen, it’s invalid,” he sneered.
”Hmph, so you lost that barrel. It’s my personal property. The seal on the lid proves it. Don’t you know that?” I teased him a little. It felt fun to be mean sometimes.
”T-that can’t be! You must have switched my barrel with another. Switching government supplies is a serious crime! Maybe you fooled low officials, but I won’t be fooled!”
He babbled a lot. Among Holy Kingdom officials, swapping government supplies was common. The weaker ones paid out of pocket. He thought I was a dumb Summoned Hero? Miss Floria’s lessons didn’t let me fall for that.
”The divine seal of the Contract God shone. That’s proof enough, even in court.”
I knew it sounded strange. But even on Earth, just a few hundred years ago, witch trials were even more absurd.
”What use is a divine seal? Feed it to the pigs!” he shouted.
Ah, what an idiot. He was digging his own grave.
I felt a chill.
Not just me—drivers and knights who had seen divine punishment before felt it too. Did they develop some spiritual sense? The drivers bowed and started reciting holy verses they barely knew, trembling. It wasn’t logical, but fear came naturally, like when a storm is near.
Then, the Baron’s body began changing. At first, I thought it was aging, but no… his limbs shrank. He dropped to all fours, losing his speech, and started grunting like a wild animal.
”Hey, what’s going on? Is he turning into a pig?”
”That’s some gruesome transformation. Is this an event?”
The summoned Heroes with him stayed calm, watching quietly like it was a game.
His other subordinates panicked completely. The people I brought were less confused—it was their second time seeing this. The three priests looked oddly calm, which was suspicious.
Still, how does a human turn into a pig? Is it more scientific than petrification? Whatever it was, divine power was terrifying.
I felt a bit guilty, like I’d caused this to happen.
I didn’t know if the curse could be reversed. In this world, pigs were a delicacy. He ran off—I hoped no one caught him to eat.
Come to think of it, the real reason for this divine punishment wasn’t about the contract. It was because we blasphemed the god. God Hortus’s true wrath was truly fearsome.
* * *
”Hey, you’re a PC, right?” one of the summoned Heroes asked me casually.
”Probably,” I said. “That face could only be Japanese. ‘The futon flew away!’ Do you get it? Like ‘Do you understand?’”
They spoke to me like old friends. Well, I guess casual is fine. PC must mean Player Character—they think this world is a game. Mr. Raoh, who loves dad jokes, complained that the Mind Communication skill can’t handle puns well. Laughing at puns feels like a Japanese thing, but I can’t laugh—it’s too cringey.
And why are they speaking English? It feels like they’re mocking me with that ‘Ann’ sound. It’s annoying.
How am I supposed to deal with these guys?
”What’s your relationship with the bearded Baron?” one asked.
I needed to find that out first. If they were hired to take me down, they were obviously enemies.
”Who’s this kid, acting all cocky? Should we just take him out?” another growled.
”Wait a minute. Our alignment is justice. Attacking our own kind brings penalties,” the leader warned.
”Again with that,” a voice muttered. “It’s great we can use strong gear, but this is getting old.”
Yeah, talking to them is going to be rough.
The summoned Heroes in the royal capital split into several big factions. Some refused to accept this world was real—they insisted it was just a game. People like Mr. Kondou, who was at the Professor’s place, gathered there. He was one of the more reasonable ones, at least…
”We’re on our way to a war event now,” the middle-aged man acting as leader explained. “The bearded man is an NPC guide. I was shocked when he suddenly said to finish you off, but we planned to help him after deciding if you’re truly evil. We are Lawful—absolute justice who do not forgive evil.”
That “Justice vs Evil” talk made me suspicious, but he seemed somewhat reasonable.
”What about that event just now? The NPC turned into a pig. Unconfirmed events need to be reported properly,” said a lanky younger man pushing forward. Maybe some kind of magician?
”Report?” I asked.
”You know the Complete Isekai Strategy Manual?” he said. “I’m the reporter for that. Not just a reporter—I’m basically the editor-in-chief.”
Ah, that ridiculous strategy guide. Mr. Raoh said it was bad because it actually had some true info, like where rare monsters appeared. New heroes took it seriously.
”Want to buy the latest volume? I’ll give it to you at a special price—one thousand gold coins,” he offered.
”No thanks,” I replied.
I knew it was piled up at used bookstores for one gold coin each. Even for a booklet, that price was crazy. There were over ten volumes, and I’d bought a few. It was all printed in katakana, which made reading painful. Now they just collected dust in my magic bag.
Printing must be expensive, so they kept it simple. Publishers in the Meiji era who did real kanji letterpress printing were amazing.
”Big events are coming fast,” the editor-in-chief said, “and anyone who ignores information won’t survive. This is the latest edition—a re-edited compilation of all 13 volumes. Deluxe leather-bound with gold leaf, ultra limited. I could sell it to you now at a special price of one hundred gold coins. Really, you won’t buy it?”
A sudden 90% discount? The book was thin, and the leather looked cheap. I wondered what Shea-Shea, who knew books, would say.
Maybe a rare book collector would have it rebound nicely. But here, no one could read katakana. There was no real demand outside newbie heroes.
”Hey, you’re the king, right? You must be rich. The editor-in-chief is begging, so buy it already. Or at least feed us some meat,” a rough-looking man said.
”Hey, leader,” another growled, “our cook turned into a pig because of this guy. Taking responsibility is only right.”
They looked like two tough types. Except for the editor-in-chief, everyone else seemed full-on frontline fighters by their gear.
I thought the bearded Baron had brought them as a trump card for the Holy Kingdom Army. If so, he might be competent—probably stronger than the combined noble armies. If they actually fought that hero squad over there… who knows who’d win?
An irregular like me showed up here. Even if backstage deals were settled, a last-minute upset would be a pain.
Should I win them over with good food? No, if I show too much kindness, they might get arrogant.
Everyone had to eat the same meal here. Since it was a special occasion, I’d cook it myself.
* * *
”Salted meat and biscuits again? Seriously?” one complained.
Despite the complaints, the summoned Heroes eagerly ate the stew from their bowls. Drivers, knights, even old priests—all focused on eating.
This was a battlefield. There was no time to make different dishes for each rank. Everyone ate from the same pot.
I threw salted meat and vegetables into a large special pot, then crushed some biscuits at the right moment. I had two drivers with skilled hands do the cooking; I only gave simple instructions and tasted it myself.
The dish, dumpling-like, was a common battlefield meal. The original flavor was reportedly awful.
”To eat a meal made by Sir Apostle himself, how grateful we are,” the drivers said, thinking it was delicious thanks to divine power. Even those who cooked called it a miracle. Next time, they could make it without my instructions—I wanted them to really remember the taste.
The key to cooking was saltiness and texture. Get those right, and it was edible.
Salted meat was too salty by itself, but simmered in soup, it balanced out. It also softened the meat.
This battlefield staple was practical. Adjusting salt was hard for amateurs; soldiers often added too much salted meat, making it overly salty.
Adding salted vegetables only when the meat was tender was important for texture. Tossing vegetables in too early made them mushy. Thorough simmering helped, but fuel was limited, so the texture suffered.
Crushing biscuits and adding them last gave a crunchy texture. I liked the crispy bits floating in the soup.
Nearby, noble soldiers made similar dishes in big pots. They threw salted meat, vegetables, and whole biscuits all in at once.
Fuel-saving? Are they idiots? Proper heat control made little difference in fuel use.
Plus, nobles gave their subordinates old, spoiled preserved food. They were stingy, even though they lived in luxury.
They forced down thick, nasty soup. Some new recruits ate while crying. That really hurt morale.
I sipped the soup. The saltiness was perfect, if I say so myself. Of course, it varied by person and condition, but I adjusted it slightly salty.
Everyone had moved around some, so this was fine health-wise.
Removing the scum properly was a good move. Hard biscuits put in too early absorbed the scum and tasted terrible. Just thinking about it made me shiver.
”Why is this trash food so good? Does that guy have a cooking cheat?” one asked.
”Next time we recruit a newbie, let’s find someone who can cook as a food stunt double,” another joked.
Despite the complaints, the heroes ate until they were too full to move, and the big pot was empty. I expected leftovers.
Somehow, I felt the knights’ loyalty to me had grown. Instead of speeches or showing strength, maybe a simple meal was what really mattered.
Alright, from now on, I’ll handle everyone’s meals. Cooking for a big group is actually kind of fun.
Notes:
• Miss Floria – Elegant, silver-haired noblewoman in her 40s, referred to as an ‘older sister’. Judge of the Supreme Court and Baroness. Former tutor of Princess Auroora. Initially stern but warms up, showing a playful side. Close with Ms. Nina (Princess Auroora’s doll copy), treating her like a sister. Trustworthy and explains legal matters clearly.
• Raoh – Pakkyamara. An infamous, scheming, but somewhat incompetent senior adventurer known for meddling with hero summoning rituals; often gets beaten up as a result. The one who want japanese food.
• Justice – The four who enter the valley of trial. A knightly character who attempts to enslave the protagonist using a subjugation skill orb.
• Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Holy Kingdom – Located on the east of the continent.
• Jamil – Male. A rough and intimidating caravan driver. His appearance is that of a scarred, bandit-like figure with a scary face. He is arrogant and deliberately provocative, mocking authority and even blaspheming against the god Hortus. His strength is notable, but he lacks professional fighting skills. He is a pawn in Bearded Baron’s scheme, ultimately suffering divine punishment for his impiety, rapidly aging into a feeble old man.
• Ms. Mahal – A talented alchemist and old friend of Mr. Zenom’s; she is knowledgeable about homunculi and leads the protagonist to a secret underground passage.
• Ms. Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Mahal – A talented alchemist and old friend of Mr. Zenom’s; she is knowledgeable about homunculi and leads the protagonist to a secret underground passage.
• Shea-Shea – Mauro’s daughter. Hurt by Alexander. Became an eager fiancée after advice from protagonist.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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