Hell Mode: Volume 7, page 29
Director Shinorom grinned. “Of course. The conditions for the first stage have already been met. It won’t be long until it’s completed.”
“I see. Soon, then. Heh heh heh.”
Ardoe and the others bowed their heads deeply as the Demon Lord chuckled and rubbed his stomach in satisfaction.
Side Story 5: Hell Mode Spin-Off—The Heroic Tale of Helmios (Part 1): The Birth of a Miracle
On the first of January, just before dawn, the city of Teomenia, the religious capital of Elmahl, was covered in pure-white snow. It started falling the night before and showed no signs of stopping even after half a day had passed, leading Teomenia to welcome the new year in a sacred silence.
Of course, the hill overlooking the city and the church atop it were also blanketed with snow. Inside the stone church, however, there was a tense calm unlike that found in Teomenia. The priests had gathered in a room with a fireplace located in a corner of the church. They had been there overnight, looking solemnly toward the front of a single door.
“I hear that another fortress has fallen in the northern part of the Central Continent. The city has been occupied by the Demon Lord Army, and the surrounding land is said to be overflowing with monsters. Though an oracle has come to guide us to salvation, there are those within the Church spreading rumors that this is not the case,” a middle-aged bishop said anxiously.
“Stop it,” an older bishop chided. “Our role is to convey Lord Elmea’s oracles to the people. We can’t be the ones to be so anxious about them. For now, we can only wait for the Great Pope to relay it to us.”
However, the bishop next to him, who was about the same age, took up the conversation in a defiant tone. “No, there are reports that the Demon Lord Army is deploying enough monsters to reach all the way from the east side of the Central Continent to the west. They say that weak fortresses will be destroyed by the mere footfalls of the enemies coming toward them. The Central Continent has reached its limit. It is but a matter of time before our turn comes.”
“I doubt something like that will ever happen. Even if it were true, do you doubt the thoughts of Lord Elmea, who is going through the trouble of giving an oracle at such a time?” another priest retorted. However, his voice lacked conviction as well. Even if he thought the other party’s statement was an exaggerated version of the testimony of a frightened soldier, nothing more than hearsay upon hearsay, he could not help but feel uneasy.
There was an unpleasant silence among the bishops.
Creeeak.
The sound of door hinges creaking could be heard, and Great Pope Istahl appeared from the next room, the oracle hall.
“Thank you for your hard work, Great Pope.”
“So, what did Lord Elmea have to say in the oracle?”
Once the Great Pope had sat down in a nearby chair, the bishops began asking him questions.
“Hmm.” Seemingly aware of the anxious eyes focused on him, the Great Pope did not speak right away.
“So it’s true. There is no way to stop the Demon Lord Army from rampaging.”
“No, that’s not the case. Lord Elmea, the God of Creation, has granted us salvation,” the Great Pope replied clearly, and all the bishops gathered there began to murmur.
“Th-Then...”
“How will we be saved?”
“Silence!” The archbishop, who was second only to the Great Pope, bellowed, causing the other bishops to turn quiet. The Great Pope took a deep breath and spoke again.
“‘This year, a hero with miraculous powers will be born. Someone gifted with the ability to vanquish great evil. Do not lose hope.’”
“Wonderful!”
Everyone in the room let out a cry of happiness. It was a moment of joy so great that the walls vibrated from how loud their cheer was. The anxious young bishop and even the older bishop who had chided him clenched their fists so hard that their fingers turned white and let out sighs of relief. It was as if they were trying to drive out the unease they still harbored deep in their hearts.
“Lord Elmea did not abandon us! At last! At long last, we have salvation!”
Some bishops were moved to tears because of the amount of anxiety they had been feeling.
“However, ‘this year’ is too vague. We don’t even know where this person will be born.”
“Think about it carefully. Should we know the specific date and location, that information will leak elsewhere. When that happens, there is no doubt that the Demon Lord Army will target that newborn.”
Some bishops immediately began discussing the details of the oracle.
One way or another, the contents of the oracle would be discussed in depth at the church in Teomenia, then shared with the whole world via the communication magic tool provided by the Empire of Baukis. To that end, they would have to assess the details over the next few days and decide within the Church of Elmea how much of it could be made public and to whom it could be communicated.
One of the young bishops looked surprised. “Wait, if they’re born this year...” Seeing this, the middle-aged bishop nodded.
“That’s right. It will take twenty years for this hero sent by Lord Elmea to be able to fight the Demon Lord Army.”
“That’s why Lord Elmea said that we must not lose hope. Until the time when a hero can stand up to the forces of darkness, we must hold on to that hope no matter what.”
The Great Pope told everyone gathered there to steel their resolve.
Currently, the Empire of Baukis and Rohzenheim were fighting from an advantageous position. They were able to do so because the Empire of Giamut on the Central Continent, which was being invaded on the largest scale of any member of the Five Continent Alliance, was somehow holding out. If the Central Continent fell, the dominance of the two northern continents would collapse, and the Garlesian and Galiatan Continents in the south would be directly attacked by the Demon Lord Army. Were that to happen, the world would end before the hero could play an active role. In order to prevent this from happening, the Church of Elmea’s next task was to do whatever it could to help the Five Continent Alliance endure, thus buying time for the hero to mature and gain strength.
＊ ＊ ＊
Five years had passed since God of Creation Elmea’s oracle telling of the birth of a hero. In the remote Giamutan village of Cortana, a child awakened. He stretched out under the blanket of his straw-filled futon, then jumped out of it. As soon as he did so, however, his body began to tremble.
“I-It’s so cold!”
The child had light-blue hair that reached his shoulders and a beautiful, well-formed face, making it difficult to discern his gender at first glance. He left his room and walked down the hallway of the wooden house while cradling his delicate body, clad in slightly oversized clothes, with both hands.
There was a flip-out window in the hallway, and voices could be heard coming from outside. When the child opened the window and looked out, he saw a shirtless man standing by the side of the house, wielding a wooden sword with only his right hand as powder snow fell from the dim sky.
The man was practicing as if he were in real combat—swinging his wooden sword, changing stances, thrusting, sweeping, raising the sword, and taking up a defensive posture as he stepped forward. All the while, thick muscles undulated beneath the skin of his lean, toned upper body, and steam rose from his warm body while he dripped with sweat. His left arm had been cut off just below the shoulder.
The child watched the scene for a while, then quietly closed the window and proceeded down the hallway. He opened the door at the end of it, stepped down onto the dirt floor, opened the lid of the large jar that was there, and quenched his parched throat with some water drawn with a ladle. Then, he took a wooden cup from the side shelf, filled it with water, and headed back down the hallway. He walked past his room and knocked on the door of the room at the end.
Knock knock.
“Helmios?”
A young woman’s voice came from within the room. Helmios opened the door and went inside.
The room was dimly lit, and the roaring fireplace was warming the area. A slender woman sat upright in her bed, illuminated by the glow of the flames. Her long hair was tied back.
Helmios approached the bed and placed the wooden cup on her side table. As he did, the woman fixed her gaze on Helmios and smiled.
“Here, drink this. I’ll make us something to eat,” Helmios said.
“Thank you. You’re such a kind boy. I wonder who you take after.”
“I’m your kid, mom.”
Helmios spoke as he watched his mother, Kalea, grab the cup and take a sip. He then returned to the dirt-floored room, stirred the ashes in the hearth to stoke the fire, and added some wood. He reheated the previous day’s soup. In addition, he placed three slices of bread on the hearth’s grate and toasted them until they began to give off a delicious aroma. He cut slits into one of the slices to make it easier to eat.
Just as he was placing the three slices of bread on a wooden plate, the front door opened and the man who had been practicing swordsmanship in the garden entered the room with the earthen floor. Like Helmios had done earlier, the man scooped water from the pitcher with a ladle and gulped it down.
“Breakfast is ready,” Helmios said to the man—his father, Lucas. His father nodded, propped his wooden sword against the entrance, took the plate of bread from Helmios with his free hand, and went up from the dirt floor into the living room.
Shortly thereafter, Helmios entered the living room carrying a wooden bowl of soup on a tray, which he placed on the table where his father was waiting. He noticed that his father’s gaze was not on him but on the entrance to the living room, so he turned to look as well.
“Hey, Kalea. Are you sure it’s okay for you to get up?”
Just as his father had said, Kalea was standing there. She was wearing a thick woolen cardigan and leaning against the doorway.
“Of course. It’s been a long time since the three of us got together as a family.”
With that said, his mother stepped into the living room. Perhaps due to a lack of strength, however, she took only a few steps before nearly tumbling forward.
“Ah! Mom?!”
Helmios cried out and tried to support his mother, but his body would not move. In his place, his father stepped out from behind him to help Kalea, who had collapsed, with his only hand.
“It’s dangerous,” he said. “Come on, I’ll carry you to your seat.”
“G-Goodness... How embarrassing.”
His father bent down and lifted his mother up with just his thick right arm. His mother looked embarrassed as she was carried straight to the table. Helmios was relieved, feeling his heart grow warm at how close his parents were.
Once his parents were seated, Helmios served them soup from the tray.
“You work so hard. Who do you take after?” Lucas asked.
“You too, dad?! Aren’t you both my parents?!” Helmios’s face was beet red as he spoke. His parents laughed out loud.
“I’m just kidding. But you really are a strange child. Unlike me, you’re very healthy.” Helmios’s mother reached out and stroked his hair, which was the same color as her own.
“Yeah,” Lucas agreed. “It seems there’s been illnesses going around the village lately, but you haven’t caught so much as a cold. Maybe the gods have blessed you.”
“Yeah, Gatsun is stuck in bed. I hope the gods bless him as well,” Helmios said.
Helmios’s mother smiled as he said that.
“Let’s eat.” Upon saying this, she closed her eyes and folded her hands. “Thank you, Elmea, God of Creation, and Molmol, God of Bountiful Harvests, for our daily bread and blessings.” She offered prayers to the gods before eating. Helmios and his father did the same.
The three of them then began eating breakfast. Helmios’s mother tore her slice of bread and ate it, and his father slurped his soup, put his spoon down, and dipped the bread in it. As Helmios watched this with satisfaction, his mother called out to him.
“Helmios, give me your bowl.”
“Huh? Mom?”
Helmios handed her his wooden bowl, and she transferred the meat and vegetables from her soup into his. He wanted his mother to eat a lot and be well nourished, so Helmios had reduced his own portions.
“But—” Helmios started in protest.
Kalea looked calm yet firm. She would not take “no” for an answer.
“You can’t be a picky eater. You have to eat a lot.”
“Okay...”
As Helmios reluctantly accepted the wooden bowl and started to eat, his mother suddenly covered her mouth and coughed. He and his father watched as she continued to cough, her face growing pale as she did.
“Mom!”
“Kalea!”
Lucas got up from his seat, rubbed Kalea’s back as she coughed, and looked at Helmios. The boy understood his father’s intentions and nodded, then flew to the corner of the room and opened a drawer in an old cupboard. He paused for a moment after finding what he was searching for. But he quickly shook himself free of his hesitation and grabbed the only paper packet of medicine they had before handing it to his father. From there, he ran down to the earthen-floored room.
“Kalea, take your medicine.”
“Huh? But it’s the last one.”
“It’s fine. Just drink it.”
Helmios could hear their conversation through the open doorway as he filled a cup and returned to the living room. His father was waiting for him with the powder ready, and he put the cup on the table. No sooner had he done so than his father handed the water and medicine to his mother.
After swallowing it all, Kalea let out a long breath. Her face remained pale, but she seemed to have stopped coughing. As Lucas once again picked Kalea up with his one hand and carried her to her bedroom, Helmios looked down at the dishes she had left behind and noticed a bloodstain on the side of her wooden bowl. It had come from the hand she had used to cover her mouth.
After cleaning the dishes and wiping down the table, Helmios went to check in on his mother. He was just standing in front of his parents’ room when the door opened and he was met by his father.
“Thank you, Helmios. That’s our boy.”
“We need to get more medicine again.”
“You’re right. I’ll go get it today. The rico fruit peddler doesn’t leave the village until tomorrow, so I have all day free.”
Lucas made a living as a bodyguard for peddlers and couriers. Although he had only had one arm for as long as Helmios could remember, his skill with a sword had never waned, and he continued to receive requests for protection. Starting tomorrow, he would be escorting merchants between towns. The next time he returned would be in a month at the earliest.
Helmios fell silent, and his father’s large hand stroked his head.
“Don’t make that face. Now, you should go outside. If I remember correctly, you were meeting up with your friends, right?”
Helmios unconsciously looked up when he heard his father’s words. “Huh? But I want to stay with mom.”
“Don’t break your promise with your friends. Go out and play.”
His father’s unexpectedly strong words left Helmios momentarily at a loss. Indeed, he had told his father the previous evening that he would be getting together with friends today. But was it okay for him to leave his suffering mother behind?
“Helmios, I’ll be fine,” Kalea said, her voice from behind Helmios’s father. Perhaps she had been listening to their conversation. “Your Appraisal Ceremony is soon. When it comes, I’m sure you’ll find that you’ve been bestowed with a wonderful Talent. I intend to last long enough to see that.”
“‘Last long enough’...” Helmios felt his chest tighten at his mother’s words, and he could not help but look down. If he did not, he was going to burst into tears.
“It’s okay, I’m here with your mother, so you have nothing to worry about. Besides, your friends are probably waiting for you.”
Helmios could not argue with him. He went back to his room, quickly changed his clothes, and left the house with great reluctance. However, his steps were sluggish, as he was worried about his mother. Cortana Village was small, having only a hundred houses and a total population of three hundred people, so even a child could reach the plaza near the village entrance in about ten minutes.
Five children around Helmios’s age were waiting in the square for him to arrive.
“You’re late! Wait, what’s wrong, Helmios? You look glum.”
The girl with her long hair tied in two pigtails was about to scold Helmios for being late, but she noticed his depressed expression and called out to him with concern.
“It’s nothing, Dorothy. So, I guess Gatsun couldn’t come after all.” Helmios looked around at his companions and noticed that Gatsun, who was sick in bed, was not among them.
“I guess not. So, what are we going to do today?”
Helmios reflexively thought about playing when Dorothy, the daughter of the village priest, asked that question. He had become the de facto leader of the kids his age, and he was always asked for his opinion when no one could think of something they wanted to do. His next thoughts were of Gatsun, who was not there, and his mother, who was probably asleep at home.
“I know. How about we go get a rico fruit and give it to Gatsun?”
When Helmios suggested this, the children nodded and all at once ran toward the entrance of the village. Leaving footprints on the thinly piled snow, they left the village and headed for a farm a bit away.
It took about thirty minutes for them to reach their destination, which was an orchard full of short trees with long branches that spread out horizontally. Glossy red fruit peeked out here and there on the snow-dusted branches.
“Found them. I’m glad they’re still there.”
The children looked at each other, snickering. Even if they did not realize that the rico fruit grown here was an important source of income for the village, they did know that it was wrong to take these things that adults had put so much care into growing. Helmios and his friends felt a sense of immorality in trying to take them without permission.
