Our carriage stopped. There was a knocking sound from outside. It turned out to be the coachman knocking; he wanted to say something.
"Ladies, it seems we must stop for a moment," he looked at his horses in front. "Our horses are thirsty and need a rest."
At his request to stop for a moment, we rested temporarily by the shore of a lake.
The coachman gave his horses a drink, while my teacher and I spread out a mat under a tree by the lake's edge.
This is boring, I thought. There's nothing here but the lake, grass, and trees.
"Teacher, tell me something fun," I said.
My teacher looked at me. "Hmm..., something fun...?" She thought, then as if getting an idea, she looked back at me and smiled. "Something fun for me, is teasing you," she said.
I sharpened my gaze, glaring at her as if to say, don't tease me.
"Alright, alright," she stroked my face with her right hand.
"Fun is subjective, everyone has their own taste for having fun," she said after she stroked my face.
"What do you mean by subjective?"
"Alright, let's start with an example around us," she looked towards the coachman and his horses.
"What is your opinion of that coachman?"
I looked at the coachman. "In my opinion, he is an old man who works as a coachman."
My teacher nodded slowly. "That is your opinion of him, based on his appearance and his job," she said.
I looked at her. "Then what do you think, Teacher?" I asked.
"My opinion?" She then cast a spell. Instantly, a small tornado appeared, heading towards the coachman and his horses.
What the coachman did when the small tornado headed towards him and his horses was truly astonishing.
He held his horses' reins tightly, and hugged the horses. He didn't run or save himself.
Seeing it, I tried to get up to help him, but my teacher held me back. I looked at her as if asking without words, "why," and then the small tornado vanished without causing any damage.
"He is a pioneering, great, and dedicated figure," said my teacher. "His skin is in direct contact with the heat of the sun and the rain every day."
"He is very serious about his work, and not only that," my teacher looked towards the coachman who was calming his horses, "he also takes very good care of his horses."
She looked at me, as if asking, "do you understand what I mean?"
"Hm..., Appearance and job, personality and attitude, is that what you want to distinguish?" I said.
"Well, everyone's views and opinions are different, like you seeing him this way and me seeing him that way."
"Is that wrong?"
"No, that is everyone's subjective preference."
My teacher then pointed at me. "Like you, who likes fishnet underwear, while I am more normal."
I glared at her, putting on an annoyed face. "So you mean I'm not normal?" I asked in a high voice.
I chased her, and she ran. "Besides, I'm not wearing it!" I shouted.
She just laughed. "Oww..., you're quite... no, very daring down there, aren't you. You're not worried someone will lift your skirt?" She kept running around the lake.
We both ran around the lake until we were exhausted. I fell to my knees, panting.
My teacher seemed the same; she was tired. Her breathing was rising and falling rapidly, but she could still stand upright.
"Speaking of taste, there is one figure that comes to my mind," she said, panting, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with her heavy breaths.
"Let's go back first," my teacher bent down, asking me to get on her back. She knew I was so tired I had trouble standing. She carried me, walking along the lake.
"Who is the figure you remember, Teacher?" I asked.
"He is a figure with a very strong conviction, that victory must be achieved absolutely, so the world can be saved," she answered.
Her face turned grim. "But unconsciously and unintentionally, he actually created a grey world," my teacher continued.
We arrived at the mat where we were sheltering. "Drink this," she gave me a glass of water, then ordered me to open the book to page 005.
I grabbed the book and opened the page. It contained:
APPELLATION: The True Hero
TITLE / EPITHET: The Thief of Hope, The Victory Anomaly, The Bringer of Dawn and Dusk
CLASSIFICATION:
* Primer: Legendary
* Status: Active (Cyclical, only appears during major crises)
* Scale: Regional / Global
* Level: Bound
ORIGIN: It was born from a cosmic imbalance. In the beginning, Hope and Despair were two forces spread evenly throughout the universe. However, to ensure Despair could never achieve absolute victory, Hope made a great sacrifice: it condensed a large part of its essence into a single concept that would activate when the world was on the brink of destruction. The True Hero is the universe's antibody, a concentrated manifestation of Hope activated as a last resort.
FORM / ESSENCE: Its essence is Zero-Sum Causality Balancing. It is not an individual, but an anomalous principle that possesses a "host"—an ordinary human with potential—during a crisis. This host will temporarily become the True Hero, a vessel for the concept of "inevitable victory."
APPEARANCE / PERCEPTION: You will not see this entity directly. You will see its change in the host. A shy farmer might suddenly lead an army, an orphan might pull out a holy sword. The host will radiate an aura of hope so strong it can inspire entire nations. However, to those who are sensitive, there is a strange side effect. Around the Hero, the world feels a little paler. Food is a little blander, laughter a little quieter, and small bits of luck seem to vanish. The world is paying an invisible "tax" for its victory.
DOMAIN / INFLUENCE: Its domain is conflict and victory. Its main influence is the large-scale manipulation of probability to ensure the host will always win in the predetermined "Great Conflict."
* The enemy's arrow will always miss by an inch.
* The tyrant will misspeak at the crucial moment.
* An impossible guess will always be correct.
However, for every great "miracle," it "steals" thousands of small miracles from the reality around it. After the Hero saves the kingdom, the kingdom might experience a failed harvest, a crisis of creativity, or a long winter. They survived, but their vitality is drained.
VULNERABILITIES / COUNTERMEASURES: Although unbeatable in battle, it is bound by its own rules.
* Requires a True Crisis: This entity cannot be activated for trivial matters. It requires a large-scale threat that can genuinely destroy a civilization. Without a "dragon" to slay, the "hero" will never appear.
* The Host's Will: Despite being gifted power, the host is not a puppet. If the host consciously chooses an unheroic path—sacrificing the innocent for an easy victory, or giving in to despair—the entity's bond can falter or even break. The Hero must choose to be a hero.
* Pyrrhic Victory: This entity only cares about "victory," not the condition of that victory. A clever enemy can create a scenario where the only way to win is through a terrible sacrifice. For example, the only way to stop the doomsday machine is to merge with it. The entity will count this as a victory, then leave, leaving the host as a new monster.
ECHOES IN HISTORY & MYTH: Every civilization has a legend of the "Faceless Hero" who appeared in their darkest hour, saved everyone, then disappeared. However, the often-overlooked footnotes of history show the same pattern: after being saved, these civilizations entered an era of stagnation or long decline, as if all their luck and spirit had been spent in one glorious moment of victory.
WHISPERS & FRAGMENTS OF KNOWLEDGE:
* "Every time the True Hero wins, a thousand artists lose their inspiration."
* "Don't pray for a savior to come. Pray that you are strong enough not to need one."
* "His victory always leaves a strange silence, as if the world is holding its breath, having forgotten how to cheer."
Scribe's Note: This entity presents the most terrible moral dilemma. Its actions are undeniably good—it saves millions of lives from destruction. But the price is the slow rot of the world's soul. Is it better to die in a blaze of glory, or to live in a safe, grey world? This entity forces us to choose, and I fear there is no right answer. It is a savior and a curse.
I thought for a moment, then spoke, "Hmm... Teacher, this isn't a single figure, is it?" I asked.
My teacher took a cigarette from her pocket. While her breath was still ragged, she insisted on smoking.
I approached, snatched her cigarette, and broke it. Her expression was shocked, her eyes vacant.
It seems I made a mistake. I shook her body, which was now still as a statue. "Teacher, snap out of it..."
This isn't working, she's not even blinking, I thought.
I reached into her pocket, took out a cigarette, and dangled it in front of her. Her eyes blinked and regained their light.
She snatched it very quickly with her right hand, while her left hand squeezed my face.
I felt guilty and asked, "sor..." but my voice was unclear, because my face was still being squeezed by her left hand.
My teacher pulled her left hand away to light the cigarette, and said, "Don't do that again, or else I'll take your fishnet underwear," she threatened.
"Who's scared?" I muttered quietly.
"Did you say something?"
Damn, she heard it faintly."N-no, maybe you misheard."
"Is that so. So, where were we?"
"In my opinion, that figure isn't a single figure," I answered.
She smoked her cigarette and blew out the smoke. "You understand the phenomenon."
"Phenomenon?"
"Yes, a phenomenon. What you read wasn't about the figure but how a phenomenon enters a figure," replied my teacher.
"Is this like a symptom of possession? Or their body being taken over?" I concluded with what I thought I could more easily understand.
Because I thought, if the phenomenon was perhaps a ghost or magic entering someone, then the two things that crossed my mind were: body taken over or possession.
"Almost right, but there's a difference here," my teacher then ordered, "Try checking the Form and Essence section."
Hmm... Form and Essence, huh? Let's see. ...Its essence is Zero-Sum Causality Balancing. It is not an individual, but an anomalous principle that possesses a "host"—an ordinary human with potential—during a crisis. This host will temporarily become the True Hero, a vessel for the concept of inevitable victory.
"A vessel. Then is its will limited?" I asked after reading the referenced section.
"Well, for that, try checking the vulnerabilities section, in the part about the host's will," she again gave an instruction, to look down the description.
I referred to it; the description was like this... Despite being gifted power, the host is not a puppet. If the host consciously chooses an unheroic path—sacrificing the innocent for an easy victory, or giving in to despair—the entity's bond can falter or even break. The Hero must choose to be a hero.
"In my opinion, this is just the same. Even if he's not a puppet, fate has determined him to be a hero."
My teacher then confirmed it with an explanation. "Well, you're right. At a glance, it is the same, but there is a possibility that the figure will be cut off from the hero's destiny."
"So that's how it is, Teacher. Is this some kind of blessing or revelation?" That was the conclusion I reached.
"Well, that's an accurate simplification. A true hero is called that because a revelation or blessing is given to him," she extinguished her cigarette.
"But that revelation can be cut off if the person who receives it rejects the determined path," she continued after putting out the cigarette.
She took another one from her pocket. I watched her closely. In my heart, I really wanted to snatch it and break it again, but I held back.
"Then, what's the use of him?" I asked, rather curtly, because I knew the text there noted him not as a giver of hope but as a thief of hope.
"That's the irony. The world would be destroyed if he didn't appear," she lit her second cigarette, "but his presence only makes the world stagnate towards its destruction."
"He doesn't save anything, then," I said.
"Well, he doesn't save. He only delays it until the real destruction returns."
"That's why, the absoluteness of victory, and hope that is so dominant, triggers destruction with a grey world."
"Hope that is so absolute demands such a high price, just like when you ask what the price of salvation is, the answer is everything except your life."
Hearing my teacher's words made me think, is balance really that important?
"Then Teacher, where is the True Hero now?" I asked.
She picked up a stone and threw it into the middle of the lake. The splash it made wasn't very strong, but the water waves it created slowly spread and hit the lake's edge.
"Like a water wave, right now, because the splash the stone made isn't strong enough, and the water waves haven't spread yet."
"The true hero will appear when the stone thrown is big enough to create a splash, and its waves have widened."
"So right now, we are heading into a transition period where the waves are slowly spreading."
"You mean, no matter how big the stone or the splash, as long as the waves spread, the True Hero will eventually appear?" I asked.
"Correct. And now, the stone has been thrown, and its waves are slowly spreading."