Chapter 63

Outtake Case File 63 On the Exhaustion of Men

When one day you find out that the hero you’ve been admiring is actually someone who seems like an insignificant klutz around you, how would you feel?

The sudden sense of idealism shattered and the disintegration of faith, right?

No, the huge transformation before and after the change makes it hard to recognize such a situation. There’s also the matter of not recognizing someone behind a mask. This isn’t self-praise, but I’m not saying I haven’t experienced this.

But, that utterly inconspicuous and incompetent patient “Wild Flower”? And that incredible heroine “Cure Yell,” who, with her immense resilience and strength, single-handedly carried the world for eight years? If someone had said these two were the same person to Ash a day ago, he would have decided it was time to perform an exploratory surgery.

It’s not just small details like voice, face, or build; it’s the sheer difference in presence! Even if I mentally prepared myself for heroes possibly not aligning with ideals, seeing Yell’s light fade away, leaving only Wild Flower standing there still made me feel my heart stop for several seconds, unrelated to the sword stuck in my chest.

Right now, the biggest concern is—what emotion lingers in my chest?

Shock, anger, frustration, sadness, distress, discomfort, realization—all of these expressions come and go as my lips move, spraying blood with each movement, but no sound comes out. However, at this moment, the most overwhelming and unbearable feeling is one of shame.

At the same time, Ash recalled the astonishment Wild Flower had expressed, which turned out to be the truth rather than a joke. Unexplainedly, apart from feeling “cherished,” a sense of admiration also arose towards this seemingly soft creature.

This admiration wasn’t just for the respect due a lone warrior who fought for eight years, but for Wild Flower herself. The recollection of her abnormal symptoms and unusual reactions at the clinic, along with the final report detailing them, deepened his respect and appreciation.

That’s… really great.

This isn’t praise; it’s the highest commendation Ash could give for her persistence and her ability to deceive him, stemming from the depths of his soul.

Chilled limbs regained some warmth, and the wounds that could normally tear a person apart didn’t hurt as much. At least, he didn’t have to worry about dying in vain or leaving a blood debt for those close to him.

Dark Echo was partly responsible. As long as he hadn’t reached the limit where it started eroding his soul and memories, Dark Echo’s increase did nothing but empower him.

Hah, luring with sweetness before taking back the price already marked by its value—that’s the way of darkness.

He didn’t know whether he was mocking himself or others. Possibly himself, Ash used this deceptive distraction to push his body, with a sword still piercing his chest, towards the ruins where she stood.

However, the closer he got to her, the evasions in his gaze grew more frequent as he dared not meet her eyes.

Damn it! When did Ash become this kind of coward? Having gone this far, there was no room for disguise. It was too late to hide!

What are you doing!? Didn’t you play the ‘stabbing game’ with her happily? Where has your manly spirit gone? Isn’t she just Wild Flower—

Isn’t it…just…flower…

The more he attempted to bolster his courage, the more complex emotions filled his heart, making his gaze even harder to face her current plight.

Perhaps, he genuinely avoided looking at her expression. In any case, at present, he did not want to see her.

Damn it, can a man’s mind be so complex?

The faint breathing sounds of pain drew Ash’s attention. Standing beside the woman, her hair dyed with darkness, as the ‘volatile energy’ transformed and flowed like a vortex of darkness into him, both their expressions visibly improved.

If one wants to distract oneself, doing something is always the best method. Moreover, as she couldn’t do anything else, he now had to shoulder the entire mess in this absurd performance.

With this mindset, he uncovered the planks and kicked away debris, revealing the sleeping beauty who was half-buried beneath the rubble. Yet, this sleeping beauty looked far from beautiful, with tattered clothes, numerous wounds, and a face obscured by dust, making Saya resemble a match-selling girl.

“She’s alive,”

To survive being turned into such a monster, hit hard, and then used as a battleground—isn’t that miraculous?

Some thoughts flashed through Ash’s mind, but he shook his head, unwilling to dwell on them. He had no energy left to ponder this.

Bending down, he picked up this semi-stranger, and though her weight initially didn’t seem heavy, it became a significant burden for him. Supporting his heavy, slow steps, he carried Saya toward the woman still kneeling on the ground.

Fortunately, she—the woman who must be Saya’s mother—ran over and shortened Ash’s journey. Witnessing her bowing repeatedly and expressing sorrow with every word, then crying over Saya in his arms, Ash felt a sense of torment within.

“Take her away, and…” Ash paused to catch his breath, his lungs burning like fire, barely holding on with his remaining strength.

With a sword piercing his chest, he wasn’t truly demon-like; with each sentence, it felt as if his burning lungs were tearing apart.

“Don’t say anything.”

In normal circumstances, Ash might have forced silence with threats, but now, standing above her, he left her with nothing but a hoarse whisper and walked away.

Both physically and mentally, this wasn’t a feeling even when he almost drowned upon first arriving in this world.

He was simply too exhausted.