The Last Place Hero's Return

A raging banquet of pleasure surged through me. An overwhelming sensation, as if every single brain cell was being stimulated, coursed through me. Thanks to my superhuman physique, one that had reached the realm of the gods, physical fatigue itself wasn’t all that severe. The real problem was the exhaustion etched into my mind. At this rate, my soul would dry out and crumble into dust. I genuinely believed that I would die.

That feeling was something very familiar to everyone. It was just like how one, after staying up all night fooling around with friends, would feel like a deflated balloon, completely drained, after reaching home, not wanting to move even a finger. What I was feeling now was that sensation, amplified dozens, no, hundreds of times over. It was as if my brain was burning under the relentless onslaught of pleasure that had surpassed its limits. Endorphins and adrenaline flooded me uncontrollably, making my very soul scream.

I collapsed onto the bed, declaring surrender for what must have been the umpteenth time. “Ugh, I-I can’t... anymore...”

But the starving lionesses showed no mercy.

“Haah!Haah! You’re already trying to finish?” Iris said.

“Mmm, Dale, just a little more.” Yurina insisted.

“Ehehe. D-Dale, you’re so warm,” Laneige mumbled.

“If you’re tired, you can just lie still, Dale,” Elisha said in an excited tone.

Unlike me, who was gasping like I was on the verge of death, they looked at me with lingering excitement, licking their lips like predators. It couldn’t be helped. While I was continuously being wrung dry, they were taking turns dealing with me one by one.

None of them was an ordinary person; they were all superhumans far beyond the level of a typical hero. With even short breaks in between, they could quickly recover their stamina and rejoin the “feast.”

I was not sure if it was the best comparison, but it was like they were doing full-body workouts with an hour of rest between each set, while I was repeating mine nonstop without even a second of rest.

“S-stop,” I mumbled.

My consciousness flickered. The endless days of indulgence were finally reaching their conclusion, as my vision darkened like a starless night.

* * *

The women stared down at Dale, who had collapsed, their eyes wide.

“Ah.”

“H-he fainted?”

“What should we do? Should we wake him?”

“Y-yeah! That’s a good idea, Iris!”

“Hehe. Right, Sister Laneige?”

With bright smiles on their faces, the fallen Saintess and the witch exchanged chilling words. Unable to bear watching any longer, the hero spoke up carefully. Yurina said, “Everyone, calm down. Dale’s exhausted too.”

“Oh? Then are you saying it’s okay to stop now, Yurina?”

“I mean... let’s wake him up after five minutes.”

“Shall we?”

Following the Saintess, even the hero was beginning to show signs of falling. At the truly tragic sight, the Cursed-Eye Spider let out a deep sigh and shook her head. “Let’s stop here. If this keeps up, Dale will really dry up to nothing.”

“Feels like he already has.”

“Ahem.”

“Hoho. I’m joking.” Iris let out a small laugh as she approached the unconscious Dale.

She gently stroked his forehead. A cluster of seven-colored light flowed from her hand and slowly seeped into him.

“That is?”

“It’s a spell that helps him sleep deeply. It’s very effective for recovering fatigue.”

“I see.”

Elisha nodded and stood up, walking over to the refrigerator in the corner of the room. She took out some cold water and handed it to Iris, Yurina, and Laneige. Then she glanced at her students, who weren’t wearing a single thread, and cleared her throat awkwardly. Earlier, her mind had been too heated to care. But when she thought about it now, hadn’t she just shared a bed with her students? Well, one of them had graduated recently, but still.

She let out a deep sigh at the wave of self-reproach. I’ve failed as a professor.

Iris looked at her and said, “Oh my, are you regretting it now? Hehe. There’s no need for that, Sister Elisha.”

Still not used to being addressed that way, Elisha looked flustered. “I told you to call me ‘Professor’ at the academy.”

Iris burst into laughter. “Haha. This is kind of nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yes. It feels like a family.” With a faint smile, Iris hugged her knees. “I grew up as an orphan, so I’ve never really felt this kind of comfort, just being together like this.”

She had Camilla as a friend, but because of the unavoidable difference in their status, it always felt like there was an invisible wall between them.

“A family, huh. Now that you mention it, you said something like that before.” Elisha chuckled softly, recalling the first time they had called her sister. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt something like this too.”

Even since she had lost her parents at the hands of the Archbishop of Beasts, this was the first time she had felt warmth just by sharing a space with others.

Laneige and Yurina nodded.

“M-me too! S-sometimes, I get a little jealous, but still... I like... everyone.”

“Same here.”

“This really is nice.” Iris smiled as she looked at the others. “A group of wounded people coming together and becoming a family.”

Some would look at them and feel pity, and some would see their bond and call it tragic. However, it didn’t matter. At this moment, she was very happy; she almost wondered if she even deserved it.

“Right now, I’m happy. I don’t want to lose this. Not ever,” Iris said firmly.

A faint smile formed on Elisha’s lips. She gently patted Iris’s head and spoke. “We won’t lose it. Dale... No, all of us, we’ll make sure of that.”

“Ah, that sounded like something a professor would say,” Iris replied.

“I am a professor.”

“Hoho. I’m kidding.” Iris stretched with a soft groan. “Then shall we head off as well?”

“Mmm, I-I want to stay with Dale a bit longer,” Laneige murmured.

“I’d like that too, but... he’s asleep.”

“Alright.” Laneige reluctantly got up

Suddenly, Dale’s eyes fluttered open. “Mmgh!”

“Oh my, you’re already awake, Dale?” Iris asked.

“P-pretending to sleep won’t w-work, Dale,” Laneige muttered.

With sly grins creeping across their faces, Iris and Laneige approached him.

“We were about to call it a day, but I guess that can’t be helped now, can it?”

“N-No, wait. I’m still...”

“Ahem. My apologies, Dale,” Elisha said.

When he opened his eyes, he realized he was still inside the predators’ den.

* * *

Just like that, a few days passed. One day, my door burst open violently, and an old man strode into the room. The sharp stench of alcohol immediately filled the air.

Turning my head, I saw it was Khalid. “What brings you here?”

The moment he looked at my current state, Khalid flinched, his shoulders twitching. “Dale? Did someone attack you?”

“Ah, yes. Well, something like that.”

It was more like a pack of starving lionesses had torn me apart. But I swallowed those words and instead grabbed a jug of water from the fridge, chugging it down in one go.

“Phew. So, what is it?” I finally asked.

“I came to share some information with you,” he replied.

“Information?”

“Do you remember when you mentioned the Sixth Hero before?”

“Ah, yes. I do.”

The Sixth Hero was the one who had accomplished what even the Great Five Heroes could not, slaying the Demon God. That individual’s true identity was the Prophet of Eternity.

Khalid explained, “After that, I did some digging on my own, and I managed to uncover a bit of information about him.”

“What? You’re saying you found something about the Sixth Hero, the Prophet of Eternity?” I replied in shock.

“That’s right.”

“How?”

Information about the Sixth Hero had been thoroughly erased, so there were virtually no records of him anywhere.

“I had a bit of help from my son,” he answered.

“You mean Morris?”

“Indeed. My boy said that, some time ago, he overheard mercenaries talking about the Sixth Hero... or rather, about someone believed to be him.”

“Mercenaries?”

I was surprised. How would mercenaries know anything about the Sixth Hero?

“Well, it’s more like a legend passed down among mercenaries, so its credibility isn’t exactly high.” Khalid stroked his bushy beard. “There’s a rumor among them. Five hundred years ago, a certain mercenary supposedly fought alongside the Great Five Heroes in the battle against the Demon God.”

“The Sixth Hero was originally a mercenary?” I muttered.

Khalid clicked his tongue. “Most likely. That would also explain why no records of the Sixth Hero remain. Back then, mercenaries were treated far worse than they are now.”

“That alone doesn’t seem like enough of a reason.”

Even if mercenaries were looked down upon, it didn’t make sense that a hero powerful enough to slay the Demon God would have no record left about him simply because of his background.

Khalid replied, “The story’s been passed down through generations and likely distorted, so take this as my speculation from here on.”

“Understood,” I said.

“I suspect that the period during which the Great Five Heroes and the Sixth Hero were active together was either extremely short, or it didn’t exist at all.”

“They never worked together?”

“Exactly. Which would mean that, aside from mercenaries, no one even knew the Sixth Hero existed.”

“Then, are you saying he operated separately and only joined the final battle against the Demon God?” I asked.

“That’s right. Many heroes participated in that final battle. He was likely just one of them.”

In other words, there had been no real connection between the Great Five Heroes and the Sixth Hero to begin with.

“Of course, there are no official records stating that mercenaries participated in the final battle. The enemy was... far too powerful for mercenaries to handle,” Khalid said.

“So, there’s no evidence.”

“That’s why I called it a legend. Anyway, the story goes that the Demon God’s forces had wiped out that mercenary’s entire company. Enraged, the lone mercenary had joined the final battle. That’s the full extent of the tale passed down among mercenaries.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it. There’s no mention of that hero achieving great feats or making a glorious last stand against the Demon God. Among mercenaries, it was simply remembered as ‘One of our own bravely took part in the final battle.’”

If that was truly all there was to the legend, I could see why no records of the Sixth Hero remained. It amounted to little more than a claim of “we were there too.” That could be why the story wasn’t widely spread even among mercenaries. To outsiders, it would have sounded like nothing more than a fabricated rumor to preserve their pride, something easily dismissed with a scoff.

“In the end, all we have is that the Sixth Hero was likely a mercenary active five hundred years ago?” I muttered.

“There’s one more thing.” Khalid narrowed his eyes slightly. “You’re aware that five hundred years ago, a dimensional rift opened, and people from another world called Korea crossed over, aren’t you?”

“Who in the Republic wouldn’t know that?”

After all, the Republic itself had been founded by those outsiders.

“There are claims that this mercenary was the first outsider to cross over from another dimension.”

“The first outsider?”

Khalid nodded. “Yes. And his name was...”

* * *

At a garden filled with pure white chrysanthemums, a black-haired man stood there, quietly gazing at an old, worn box. A faint smile formed on his lips. “It’s been a while since I last opened this. You’ve all been waiting a long time, haven’t you?”

Slowly, he reached inside and pulled out a set of clothes that looked worn. “Soon, it won’t be much longer. Let’s go. It’s time to bring this world to its end.”

The outfit, which looked like a school uniform, had a name tag attached to it. On it was written a name: Han Dae-Soo.

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