The Last Place Hero's Return

Clear tears streamed down the Empress’s cheeks. When I saw such a fragile sight, the first emotion that rose within me wasn’t sorrow or sympathy; it was confusion and unease.

I couldn’t understand what was happening. With Camellia’s usual personality, it was almost impossible to imagine her crying like this. While I stood there flustered, unsure how to react to this surreal scene, her trembling voice made the reason obvious enough.

“Do you know how worried I was, thinking that you might truly die like this?” she said.

Suddenly, I realized that Camellia didn’t know I possessed the Blessing of Resurrection. My party members at least knew that no matter how terrible the situation became, I wouldn’t truly die. While that didn’t mean they never worried about me, they would definitely be much less anxious compared to Camellia, who knew nothing about it.

If I had known it would turn out like this, I probably would have told her beforehand. “Ugh.”

Camellia looked at my expression. “Why are you making that face? D-don’t tell me there are still side effects!”

She hurriedly tried to call for Iris, but I grabbed her hand and shook my head. “N-no, it’s not that... Come to think of it, I promised that once this war ended, I’d tell you about myself, didn’t I?”

“There is no need to explain it right now. You have only just woken up from your sickbed. You should first recover your body,” she replied.

“You don’t need to worry about my body.”

“What are you talking about? No matter how powerful you may be, it’s not as though your body is immortal. You should focus on recovering.”

“It is,” I replied.

“What?”

“You’re correct. I have an immortal body.”

Camellia stared at me with wide, rounded eyes, clearly wondering what nonsense I was spouting. “What did you just say?”

She was usually dignified and composed. Seeing her make such an expression now stirred a mischievous urge deep inside me to tease her. I said, “It’d probably be easier to show you rather than explain it with words.”

“What do you—”

“Here goes,” I said.

I wrapped my hand in Ashen Flames and brought it down across my neck. Just like that, my head rolled off the bed and dropped to the floor.

Camellia’s eyes widened to their limits. “Ah!U-ah—”

Confronted with a sight that completely defied common sense, Camellia trembled violently, unable even to scream. Before the suppressed cry could escape her lips, my head, which was rolling across the floor, dissolved into gray ash and reformed itself atop my neck.

She gaped at me as she stared at my fully restored head. “W-what in the world?”

“I told you, didn’t I? I have an immortal body,” I explained.

“W-wait a moment.” She shook her head repeatedly before slowly closing her eyes. “I must simply be too tired and seeing things. After all, even with the body of a demigod, going without sleep for two whole weeks is far too...”

“If you want, I can show you again,” I nonchalantly said.

Camellia hurriedly shook her head in panic. “No! There’s no need!”

Perhaps the shock had begun to settle. As she steadied her rough breathing, she glanced down at the ash still scattered on the floor and carefully asked, “You truly... possess an immortal body?”

“To be precise, I have a blessing that brings me back to life even after death, even if I die thousands, tens of thousands, of times.” Seeing her expression, I continued, “This might take a while to explain. Should I bring something to drink?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Camellia dragged a chair over and sat beside the bed. “Tell me.”

Her gaze was steady. “Tell me everything about you.”

* * *

By the time Dale’s long story finally ended, the sky outside had already darkened. A heavy silence settled over the room. Camellia, who had listened quietly the entire time, bit her lip as she looked at Dale.

Her voice trembled faintly. “You... Just how... How much unbearable pain have you endured?”

Dale spoke of it as if it were all a long-gone past, recounting the stories of his previous life in the calmest tone possible. But what lay within those words could never be dismissed so easily as simply “the past.”

He had wandered alone through a ruined world for thousands of years, trapped in a body that could not even die. Imagining the despair he had felt during that unimaginable stretch of time felt like a cold blade pressing against her heart. Thinking of Dale struggling in agony, yet continuing to walk that endless life alone, made her throat tighten with emotion.

“That was all in the past,” Dale said calmly.

“How can you say something like that so simply?”

“Then what should I do?” Dale replied with a faint smile. “Break down crying and remain trapped in memories of my previous life forever?”

Camellia kept quiet.

He continued quietly, “I was given a chance.”

Dale was given a chance to scoop up the milk that had already been spilled, a chance to change a life that had been twisted, crushed, and trampled beyond repair. He had a single opportunity.

“I don’t want to waste that chance just because it hurts,” he said.

Camellia’s eyes trembled. Her lips moved as though she had countless things she wanted to say, but in the end, she only shook her head sadly.

“I see.” She nodded faintly and reached out, gently caressing Dale’s cheek. How could she possibly comfort the wounds hidden beneath this warm exterior, wounds so deep they made the soul ache? Right now, she couldn’t even begin to imagine how.

“I finally understand,” she said softly. “Why the women who love you worry about you so much... and cherish you so deeply?”

In a typical romantic relationship, a woman would probably end up depending entirely on a capable and powerful man like Dale. But at this moment, rather than relying on him, Camellia felt the urge to hold him instead. The urge was akin to taking off her coat and draping it over someone shivering in the cold. Instead of wanting to lean on Dale, she felt a stronger desire to embrace and comfort the pain and despair that had torn through his life.

Suddenly, the conversation she had with the Saintess before coming here flashed through Camellia’s mind.

“Today, I’ll leave my spot beside Dale to you, Your Majesty. Dale will probably say he’s fine now, that he’s completely alright. But don’t take those words at face value.” The Saintess had said with a bitter smile, “That man, no matter how much pain he’s in, no matter how exhausted or miserable he feels... He’s the kind of person who tries to carry everything alone.”

Carrying everything alone was a way of life Camellia was quite familiar with. After all, she herself had borne countless burdens alone to ascend to the throne of Empress. But how could it possibly compare to what Dale had borne? She had sacrificed much to protect the Empire, but Dale had endured countless deaths for the sake of all humanity.

Dale shrugged as he looked at Camellia, whose face had stiffened. “I think I know what you’re thinking, but there’s no need to make that kind of expression. I’m fine.”

How could someone go through all of that and still say they were fine? Camellia bit her lip. How could he possibly be fine? Hadn’t the Saintess already said it? There was no way he was fine. He was simply pretending to be. He was simply suppressing his sorrow, crushing his pain, trampling down his despair, and continuing to walk endlessly on legs that were already rotting and broken, all for the sake of the burdens he carried.

* * *

Seeing Camellia quiet, I called out to her. “Your Majesty?”

“When we are alone, there is no need to address me with such stiff titles,” she replied.

“Ah! Then, Lady Camellia?” I asked.

“Drop the ‘Lady’ as well.”

“Alright then, I’ll call you Camelliaaangggg.” The key was to say it in the most suspiciously playful tone possible.

“Just call me Camellia normally.”

With a pout, Camellia pinched my cheek. Perhaps the teasing had worked, because the heavy mood that had weighed down the room lifted slightly.

“Hmph. I can’t tell whether you’re kind or simply dense... Even at a time like this, you’re worrying about other people.” Camellia sighed and shook her head.

* * *

Camellia could finally understand why the Saintess always looked like she was thinking, “I can’t deal with this man,” whenever she talked about Dale.

“Anyway, it’s getting late. You must be hungry. Wait here for a moment, I’ll bring something simple to eat.” Camellia walked out of the ward and soon returned with a bowl of warm soup. “You haven’t eaten anything for two weeks, so I prepared soup to make it easier for you.”

“Oh, thanks. Did you make it yourself?” Dale asked.

“I do not know how to cook,” she replied frankly.

“Oh.”

Well, it wasn’t like the Empress would ever have reason to cook personally.

“If you wish, I could try learning someday,” Camellia muttered quietly, glancing away.

The sight of her looking slightly shy was unexpectedly cute, and as Dale watched with a satisfied smile, Camellia scooped up a spoonful of soup and held it toward his mouth. “Open your mouth.”

The Empress of the Empire was feeding him soup herself. Dale had never thought he would experience such luxury in his life.

“Does it taste alright?” she asked.

“Yeah. It’s good,” he answered.

Maybe because it had been two weeks since he had eaten anything, but even though the seasoning was mild, his starved taste buds practically danced with joy.

Dale then said, “Well then, now that you’ve finished eating, it’s about time—”

He was about to suggest that she head back since it was getting late. But Camellia suddenly stood up and gently pushed his chest, making him lie back down on the bed.

“Why are you acting as though everything is finished?” She stood up, then climbed on top of him.

“Huh? Your Majesty?”

“Did you not promise me? That once the war ended, you would tell me everything about yourself.”

“I did. And I’ve been talking about it all day.”

“Hmph. There is still one thing you haven’t told me, isn’t there?” With a languid smile, Camellia began unfastening Dale’s patient gown one piece at a time.

“Um, Your Majesty?”

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Camellia?”

“Well, I mean... I’m technically still a patient,” Dale replied nervously.

“It is fine.” Camellia leaned closer with a deep smile. “Leave everything... to me, and simply lie still.”

Her sweet whisper brushed against Dale’s ear. Then, along with the soft warmth of her skin pressing against Dale’s, her lips met his.

* * *

Ah, so this is how it ends up.

I had already sensed this could happen when I heard Iris’s warning, but now that it was actually happening, a wave of guilt toward my other lovers filled my chest. But it only lasted for a moment. The softness of Camellia’s body against mine melted that guilt away.

Suddenly, the image of Laneige flashed through my mind. If this keeps up, I’m really going to get torn apart by someone later, aren’t I? Dale turning into D / A / L / E, piece by piece. Ah, come on! No way! No way! Right?

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