QHIM chapter 25- Fake Hero

“Ji Eunsoo!”

Startled by the sound of my name, I looked up. Eunseok Senior had snatched the novel from my hands. Laughing, he read the title aloud.

“The Children of Ron Who Drink Tears? You little punk, skipping training to read fantasy novels again.”

“Ah, come on! I only read after finishing my training.”

“Man, I’m so jealous. This talented brat passed the first selection round, and now he’s slacking off. You know the second round is just a few weeks away, right?”

Eunseok Senior lightly smacked the top of my head with the book’s spine. Grumbling, I quickly snatched the book back.

I had been at an exciting part, and I wasn’t happy about the interruption.

Eunseok Senior plopped down beside me.

“Hey, Eunsoo. But why archery of all things? There are so many other sports.”

His question made me pause as I was flipping through the pages. I replied nonchalantly.

“Archery has a fair selection system in our country. Even someone like me, without any connections, can get full support if they have the skills.”

“That’s it?”

“Did you think there would be some grand reason?”

Why archery, of all things? What a funny question.

I’d only joined a middle school with an archery club because of my father’s suggestion, and I happened to discover I had a talent for it.

That was all. There was no deeper reason.

Eunseok Senior stroked his chin and commented.

“Well, it’s not like I was expecting some big reason, but it’s still a bit underwhelming for someone with your talent.”

“There are more people like me than you think. True geniuses are those who do well because they love it… The rest of us just happen to do well and end up making a living out of it.”

Dreams and such are just nonsense for people with the luxury to afford them.

Archery was never my dream.

Maybe that’s why, no matter how much others praised me as a genius, it never made me happy.

Eunseok Senior wrinkled his nose as if he found me frustrating.

“That’s what makes you a genius, you idiot.”

“Oh, seriously, why are you like this? You passed the first round too, didn’t you?”

“I’m just scared you might start liking archery. Then you’d really dominate everything.”

Eventually, I closed the book I was reading and got up, awkwardly rubbing the back of my neck.

“That’s not going to happen. If I don’t make it to the national team this time, I’m quitting.”

Eunseok Senior would never know. I envied him.

He didn’t realize that liking something and being good at it versus being good at something because it’s the only thing you know how to do are two entirely different things.

[Attention, students. This is a message from the broadcasting club. Ji Eunsoo from Class 7, second year, please come to the teacher’s office immediately.]

My name was repeatedly called over the PA system. The voice sounded urgent. I quietly left the club room and headed toward the teacher’s office.

As I cautiously opened the door and stepped inside, the chattering in the office stopped.

I looked around in confusion before approaching my homeroom teacher.

The teacher, pale-faced, had just put down the phone receiver.

“Eunsoo.”

There was pity in the voice that called my name. My homeroom teacher, looking at me with wavering eyes, spoke.

“…You should pack your things and go home immediately.”

The memories that followed are fragmented.

I became the young mourner at a funeral, and my relatives, perhaps fearing I might ask them for help, went on about how tough things were for them these days.

The construction site representatives said my father wasn’t eligible for industrial accident compensation. Loan sharks took down my phone number.

“Eunsoo, I know it’s hard, but let’s at least try to get through the second selection round.”

My coach, who had come to pay respects, cautiously brought it up.

I shoved a spoonful of bland yukgaejang into my mouth and shook my head.

“No, I’m not doing it.”

“…”

“Archery was my father’s dream, not mine.”

I recalled the day I won my first medal at a youth archery competition.

My father, with paint still on his hands, had come to watch the match, his eyes shining with pride.

Only after remembering that did I realize.

I had started archery because I wanted to make my weary father happy.

The grains of rice felt like sand stuck in my throat. In a voice choked with emotion, I barely managed to speak.

“I’m just going to live like a loser.”

It was a bolt of misfortune, one that couldn’t be anticipated or prepared for.

And so, at times, I hated God.

I thought He was an incredibly cruel being.

✽ ✽ ✽

“Ugh…”

As soon as I regained consciousness, I started crying. I let out a deep sigh, pressing the back of my hand against my eyes.

Damn Jerome, showing me nightmares is one thing, but this was just too much. I roughly wiped away my tears and got up.

Maybe it was the lingering effects of the mind control, but my head was spinning.

Amongst it all, I noticed the shattered defensive magic stone on the floor.

I picked it up with an indifferent expression.

‘Thank goodness. I broke free from the mind control thanks to the defensive magic. Cedrick, that bastard, always comes through when needed.’

Looking around, I saw that Jerome had already escaped. I stepped over the bodies of the priests with crushed heads and left the solitary cell.

At the end of the dark corridor, something was stirring.

For some reason, Ber was no longer in human form but had turned into a baby dragon. I hurried over to check on Ber’s condition. Groaning and breathing heavily, Ber was clearly in pain.

“Ber, are you okay?”

“…”

“Ber?”

Upon hearing my voice, Ber immediately opened his eyes. His gaze, now fixed on me, began to well up with tears. I patted him as he quickly nestled into my embrace.

‘So that’s it. Because of Jerome, Ber’s mind is starting to get corrupted. In the original story, Bermut also became corrupted by the power of the heretics and turned into an evil dragon.’

Realizing this, I knew this was a serious problem. This world contains five divine beasts, and if all of them were to become heretics under Jerome’s influence, it would be a true disaster.

I shook the trembling Ber, who was quivering with fear.

“Ber, snap out of it. You can’t lose your mind here too.”

“Master… Why… why did you lie to me…?”

“Huh?”

“It wasn’t just three or four times… It’s 200 times! That’s insane…”

Well… I’m sorry about that.

I didn’t expect it to be this much either.

I lifted the sniffling Ber into the air.

He looked at me with a resentful gaze, his tail drooping.

“Ber, you can randomly summon Maya’s sacred relics, right?”

Ber’s yellow eyes widened in disbelief, and he muttered under his breath.

“A pipsqueak like you… how do you know that…?”

For a moment, I considered just letting him become a heretic but quickly shook my head.

I’ve worked so hard to avoid a bad ending, and ending things with a catastrophic ending would be too disappointing. I spoke in a firm voice.

“Summon the sacred relic first. Right now, I’m the only one who can stop Jerome. I’m counting on you.”

After hesitating for a moment, Ber finally nodded. He stood on all fours, wobbling, and answered confidently.

“Understood, Master. Please wait a moment.”

For some reason, my heart started racing. In the original novel, after Carlisle defeated Bermut, he obtained ‘Maya’s Holy Sword.’

The scene where he used that sword to wipe out the heretics was famous among readers as a classic moment.

Since we’re summoning such a powerful sacred relic, I imagined it would involve an impressive ritual. Bermut, with his eyes wide open, assumed a posture.

How should I describe it?

It looked like a cat trying to cough up a hairball. Something came pouring out of Bermut’s throat, which was bulging.

I watched the scene with a blank expression.

“Uwegh.”

‘What the hell.’

While I was still shocked and bewildered by the grossly straightforward summoning method, Bermut wiped his mouth with his small paw.

What Bermut spat out was an egg-sized stone.

Confirming it, Bermut let out a relieved laugh.

“Wow, that’s amazing. I thought I lost it.”

“…Did you really have to summon something so precious in that way?”

“Keeping it inside the body is the safest, don’t you think?”

Bermut, who had been looking dejected, suddenly raised his voice.

Seeing him get so worked up, it seemed like he found this part a bit embarrassing.

Despite my unimpressed expression, Bermut excitedly shouted.

“But as expected of my master! You’ve summoned something truly amazing! A 3-star sacred relic from the start!”

Bermut grinned widely. With a stern expression, I inspected the stone Bermut had spat out.

No matter how I looked at it, it was just a plain rock.

After taking a deep breath, I grabbed Bermut’s ear and pulled it.

“You little rascal, a 3-star relic? Does that even make sense? Are you joking? If you’re messing with me…”

“Ow, ow, that hurts! And it’s not just any rock! It’s Maya’s Sacred Stone. If you hold it and chant a spell in your mind, one of Maya’s many divine weapons will respond to the summoner’s call.”

Oh, I see. I released Ber’s ear and examined the stone again.

“Hm, so it’s basically like a gacha ticket.”

“A gacha ticket? What’s that?”

“It’s a terrifying thing that can make people cry or laugh…”

After putting the stone in my pocket, I looked around.

It seemed that even the priests standing guard had all been taken out.

‘Luke must have noticed something strange around here by now. It’s no ordinary holy power, after all. So, I just need to stall Jerome until Luke arrives.’

“Ber, did you see where Jerome went?”