Chapter 96 - Hero Keisuke, Twenty-Five Years Old 3
An "ooh" groan resounds.
It echoes from the depths of the cave, making the very air vibrate.
Frightened birds flap their wings from the trees and fly away all at once.
The voices are not of a single kind.
A low-pitched roar and a somewhat higher-pitched scream can be heard.
They are likely the father and mother of the captured young troll.
They must be rushing out, losing themselves in the attempt to rescue their child.
While feeling a complicated sensation, wondering if even man-eating ogres possess the affection of kin, I stood before the cave.
Utilizing the characteristics of the Divine Sword skill, I set a slashing strike in front of the entrance.
It is at a height just above the ground, right around the ankle.
If one were to set a trap with a string to aim for a trip, it would be at this position.
Though, what I am aiming for is not a leg sweep, but the severing of legs.
It goes without saying what will happen to a troll that charges in a state devoid of reason.
Thudding footsteps, the sound of slicing flesh, pathetic screams.
"GUOOOOAAAAAA!"
"See, I told you," I say, closing my eyes.
From here, I only need to wait, and trolls with walking difficulties will be produced one after another.
There isn't even a need to bother entering combat.
I told the surrounding knights to deliver the finishing blows.
The sight of the trolls flailing about is unsightly, not something one can bear to look at directly.
"The High Priest says to kill them as cruelly as possible. I leave the judgment to you."
I heard a laughing voice saying, "Hero-dono is quite considerate."
And, "I've wanted to butcher a demi-human for a long time."
Since these are the types of people who would be considered the refined ones in this other world, it makes me feel depressed.
As soon as I sat down on the ground, a butchery show that would startle even a demon began.
It was like a livestock slaughterhouse.
Blood splattered, and before the eyes of the crucified young troll, its parents were turned into lumps of meat.
The human knights had smiles of pleasure on their lips, and they didn't seem to care about the blood splashing back on them at all.
Even these guys, once they return to the Royal Capital, will probably be advertised as heroes who saved the people from monsters.
In fact, from the perspective of the Human Race, we are undoubtedly saviors.
Even so, there is something that doesn't quite sit right with me.
Kill the enemy more cruelly.
Win more perfectly.
An opponent who directs hostility toward the Human Race, even for a single moment, must never be forgiven.
That is the demand of the masses, and the knights before my eyes are the result of continuously responding to those wishes.
Should I become like that too?
Should I draw my sword right now and join in the work of dragging out the trolls' entrails?
If that is what a Hero is supposed to be—
Then a perfected Hero might just be a violent machine without a personality.
A humanoid typhoon that simply continues to slaughter the enemies before it.
"Then I'm a failure as a Hero," I mock myself.
I don't want to become such a thing, and I don't think I can.
Since I was able to return to being human thanks to Elsa, I want to defeat the Demon Lord while still possessing a human heart.
Is this nothing more than a foolish selfishness?
Or maybe I'm just tired, I think, letting out a breath.
Ever since I was summoned to this world, it has been continuous combat.
If one fights without resting, it's only natural for a human to go crazy.
Once this is over, I'll take a vacation and maybe go on a trip with Elsa... Just as I fell into a state of being absent-minded, someone tapped my shoulder.
It was that knight with the goatee.
"What's wrong?"
The knight tried to say something, but he couldn't.
Before he could open his mouth, he swayed forward and collapsed toward me.
"...Whoops."
As I caught him instinctively, a diagonal wound running from the knight's back to his waist entered my vision.
Did he take a painful counterattack while in the middle of butchering the trolls?
After finishing his treatment with magic, I approached the group that was continuing the butchery work.
"It seems there's an injured person."
There was no reply.
The knights were falling over one after another in silence.
Feeling suspicious, I instinctively turned my gaze toward the lair.
I thought that if something were coming, it would be from a blind spot.
My intuition was correct.
From inside the cave, there was a WHOOSH sound of cutting wind.
It wasn't just a gust of wind. That was already in the realm that could be called a vacuum blade.
I instinctively shifted my body's position and moved to evade.
However, the invisible slash grazed my cheek, slightly gouging my skin.
"...It cut my skin?"
It's been a year since I've been injured.
I judge the opponent to be a possessor of quite considerable stats.
I stared intently into the depths of the cave while sensing the presence.
I could see two yellow eyes shining brilliantly.
Most likely, that guy is the main one of this lair.
Since he noticed that some kind of trap had been set in front of the entrance, it seems he decided to stay besieged while using projectile attacks.
Among trolls, who are said to have low intelligence, he is a top-tier intellectual.
"Time to flush him out."
While casting Recovery Magic on the knights with my left hand, I unleashed Lightning Magic into the cave with my right.
Sparks that stretched out with a crackling sound ravaged the interior of the cave.
If it becomes a long-range exchange of attacks, we, who can use high-tier magic, have the advantage.
After all, the Troll Race doesn't learn any decent magic.
Their true strength lies in close-quarters combat utilizing their blessed physique; as long as we fight from a distance, they will eventually run out of options.
If I were in the opposite position, I would choose the path of closing the distance to aim for a turnaround.
But if traps have been set at the entrance, where will he come out from?
After thinking for a few seconds, I realized.
There's no need to be so polite as to use the existing exit.
With troll muscle strength, they can create a new exit at any time.
"Just as I thought."
I gave a wry smile, thinking, I knew you'd do that.
The vacuum-blade troll seems to have decided to destroy the cave.
I could hear the sound of something being slammed against the walls—BANG, BANG.
Eventually, with a tremendous roar, the ceiling collapsed, and debris began to fall down pathetically.
Dust rose up, and visibility worsened all at once.
In the midst of the dust, I did not miss a giant shadow moving.
Avoiding the original entrance, I pursued the brute that leaped out from a newly created hole on the side.
Judging by the silhouette, it was an armed male troll.
His height was likely close to three meters. A physique comparable to a brown bear in the real world.
While keeping the shadow within my field of vision, I quickly performed a Status Appraisal.
[Name] Zagart
[Level] 101
[Class] Warrior
[HP] 22770
[MP] 0
[Attack] 23450
[Defense] 17670
[Agility] 7000
[Magic Attack] 0
[Magic Defense] 9010
[Skill] Battle Axe Technique, Auto-Regeneration, Night Vision
[Remarks] A warrior of the Troll Race. Through highly polished axe techniques, he is able to create vacuum blades.
"Ho," a voice escaped me involuntarily.
It seems he wasn't using magic, but was sending slashes through pure martial arts.
I found myself impressed, even as an enemy, wondering if this was a feat possible through superhuman strength.
It might be partly because the physical laws of this other world differ somewhat from Earth, but even so, it remains an extraordinary feat.
As someone who, in their own small way, handles a sword, a feeling akin to respect welled up within me.
"My name is Keisuke Nakamoto. The Hero of the Human Race."
Since my vision finally cleared, the opponent's face became clearly visible.
The troll named Zagart was a sturdy, large man wearing a helmet decorated with horns.
He was covered in armor from head to toe, and held a massive axe in his right hand.
His composed stance suggested that he was a veteran of many battles.
"I, Zagart."
I readied my Light Sword, entering a stance where I could intercept at any time.
"I desire an ordinary encounter."
Zagart held his axe in a high guard. It felt as though his already large body had expanded by another size.
"A duel. Should I emerge victorious, I demand the retreat of the humans."
"And if you lose?"
"Do as you wish."
"Fine then," I nodded.