Whether You Call Me a Guardian Dragon or Not, I’m Going to Sleep - Chapter 137: The Death of the Hero (2)
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- Whether You Call Me a Guardian Dragon or Not, I’m Going to Sleep
- Chapter 137: The Death of the Hero (2)
“Is this the hero’s village?”
“Yes. This is the village where the first hero passed away.”
The young hero looked out at the scenery of the village from the entrance.
The first hero, whose name was not recorded. The village where his last breath remains.
In the small mountain village,
“Buy hero bread! Freshly baked and piping hot!”
“If you’ve come to the hero’s village, you should buy a souvenir! Here, a statue of the hero! We also have hero sword decorations!”
“This is the hero memorial. We’ve perfectly recreated the house where the first hero lived! Just 10 silver!”
The scene was one of people running businesses using the hero as the subject.
“What is this…?”
“By the way, there are no direct descendants of the hero living in this village.”
The silver-haired girl said coldly.
“After the first hero died, his bloodline gradually left this village. Some of the direct descendants lived here for the first few generations, but they soon departed.”
“Then what are the people living in this village?”
In response to the hero’s question, silver-haired girl shook her head slightly and said,
“Who knows. Probably people who gathered here to make money by using the legend of the hero as their subject.”
“So it’s all about money after all…”
As if his expectations had been completely shattered, the young hero collapsed to the ground in despair.
“But at least this place is close to the headquarters of the Temple of Life, so they might think it’s safe from the Demon King’s threat.”
“I guess that’s true, but… What is hero bread?”
“It’s a bread shaped like a shabby sword, made by putting dough into a mold and baking it. It has red bean paste inside and tastes good. Want to try some?”
“No, that’s okay…”
The hero was dejected once again.
When he had heard the name “hero’s village,” the hero had imagined…
[A small village where the hero’s descendants live.
A village to test any new heroes that appear.
By overcoming that trial, one would gain the recognition of the first hero and obtain the treasures he used.]
But the reality was just a tourist spot.
“The hero’s descendants are still people. After the first hero died, they all scattered.”
The silver-haired girl had already taken a paper bag containing the sword-shaped breads and was chewing on one of them.
“Are you really not going to eat any? Am I going to have to eat them all by myself?”
“I won’t eat them…”
“But they’re so delicious.”
The silver-haired girl continued to munch on the shabby sword-shaped bread, unaware of the young hero’s feelings.
– From the adventure records of a certain hero party.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The hero descended into the Underworld with the Reaper.
Along the riverbank separating the living world and the Afterlife, they saw children longing for their parents.
[Do those children come to the Underworld as well?]
[Death is fair to all, young and old. But those innocent children can move on to the next life without facing the Underworld’s judgment.]
The hero and the Reaper passed the children and arrived at the ferry dock where an old man with his mouth sewn shut with black thread stood, unable to speak.
[There should be a pouch in your robe. Take out the ferry fare.]
[In my robe?]
The hero searched the plain white robe and pulled out a surprisingly heavy pouch.
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[It’s smaller than I expected. I thought a renowned hero like you would have a huge bundle that would be difficult to lift.]
[This is the pouch my sister gave me.]
It was a pouch made from wyvern hide, large enough to easily carry a small house.
[And I’ve never carried anything this heavy…. before].
Carefully holding the pouch, the hero opened it on the riverbank, on solid ground.
And an enormous amount of silver coins poured out of the pouch, forming a small hill.
[…?]
[No wonder it was so heavy.]
The hero let out a small chuckle as he looked at the hill of silver coins.
[This should be more than enough for the ferry fare, right?]
[Ah, yes.]
The Reaper and the ferryman could only nod weakly as they stared at the massive amount of silver.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The hero continued to advance with the Reaper.
They passed through a beautiful flower garden that was healing just by looking at it, and proceeded down a path of black pebbles with nothing appearing.
They crossed over the hell that burned souls with flames, the hell filled with those pierced by icicles, and the hell with countless thorns growing.
And in front of the hero, who had walked through the darkness of hell where not even a step ahead could be seen, appeared a massive door.
[I’ll stop here. The three administrators of the Afterlife are inside.]
[Will I be judged there?]
[Yes. After examining a person’s life, they weigh the gravity of peoples sins and pass judgment. I’ll be on my way then.]
[Wait, my sister is not here… ah, gone..]
The Reaper who had brought the hero was already gone, having vanished.
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[Hmm… I have no choice but to go in.]
Gazing at the massive door before him, the hero steeled his resolve.
[Whatever, I’m already dead, so what’s the problem? I won’t die again! But this door… how do I open it?]
The hero began to examine the massive door. A pitch-black door, with various carvings. It looked similar to the entrance to the Afterlife, but the size difference was enormous.
Creak.
The door began to open by itself.
[Ooh… the door opened by itself.]
The hero peeked inside. A dark passageway with countless crimson-decorated pillars.
At the end of that passageway were… the gods of the Afterlife.
The hero took a deep breath and stepped through the open door.
[You’ve finally arrived.]
The scenery had completely changed.
The building was filled with antique decorations. Three pairs of eyes were looking down at the hero from the front and sides.
[7 levels, 7 days each, 49 days. The hero’s judgment has finally begun.]
To the left was an entity composed of a black shadow.
Similar to the Reaper, but overwhelmingly more imposing.
A massive Reaper shrouded in the aura of death.
[I am Thanatos, the king of the Reapers.]
The king of the Reapers. Perhaps that’s why the hero felt a similarity between the Reaper who had brought him and this Thanatos.
Next, the entity sitting in the center.
Wearing Eastern clothing, with a veil-draped crown covering the face.
Holding a mirror in one hand and a scroll in the other.
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[I am Yama, or Moros. I am the investigator who examines your life.]
A considerably more gentle presence compared to the other two.
Lastly, the entity sitting on the right.
An entity in the form of a woman, half alive and half dead.
Holding a scale in one hand and a massive greatsword upright in the other.
[Ugh, how troublesome. Can’t you just let him through? Hearing about his exploits in life, I think he should get a free pass.]
[Keres. Introduce yourself.]
[How troublesome… Ahem. I’m Keres. I’m the judge who weighs the gravity of sins and passes judgment.]
Despite her casual tone, she had a more ominous gaze than the other two.
[Then let us begin.]
Yama, reflecting the hero in the mirror held in his hand, began to examine the scroll that unfolded by itself.
[Hero. Hero Yohanan. You lost your parents at a young age and became an orphan, wandering until you accidentally drew the sword of the Temple of Life and became a hero.]
[The hero had a name? Wow… I’ve never heard of that before.]
[Keres. Be quiet.]
As Thanatos spoke softly, Keres pouted her lips slightly, seeming a bit sulky.
[After traveling the world with the Dragon’s Priestess, he defeated numerous monsters and saved many humans.]
[Dragon’s Priestess, huh? I wonder why she bothered to do such a troublesome thing.]
[Keres.]
[Yes. I’ll shut up.]
Ignoring Keres, Yama continued to read from the scroll.
[After the journey ended, he got married and had 1 daughter, and lived quietly without any particular incident until his death at the age of 103. Is there any mistake?]
[I was 103 years old? Honestly, I didn’t even know my own age.]
[Un. That’s understandable if you were an orphan. Anyway, let’s move on quickly. There’s a lot of work piling up. It’s scary when three of us are assigned to one soul’s trial.]
[Ke-re-ss.]
[Yes~ yes~ I’ll be quiet.]
Contrary to the hero’s expectations, the atmosphere was lighter than he had imagined for the gods of the Afterlife.
[Let’s see. No record of murder, fraud, or theft. A few instances of violence, but only against monsters, and to protect humans or save other lives.]
[Quite clean.]
[Well, of course. There was someone by his side, you know.]
The three Afterlife gods nodded as they reviewed the hero’s life.
[Looking at this, there seems to be no problem with his life.]
[Yes. This will be the first soul to pass the trial in the Afterlife.]
[Hmm. Then all that’s left is to weigh it on the scale, right?]
Keres lightly pointed the tip of her greatsword at the hero, and a faint something flowed out from within the hero and gathered on the blade’s edge.
[This is just like dusting off a speck of dirt. Almost no sins… I can already tell the result.]
[Keres. The procedure must be followed.]
[I know, I know. How stubborn of you, old generation.]
Keres placed the something gathered on the blade onto the scale, but the scale showed no change.
Then,
[Then, let us add the final sin.]
Yama, who had been silently reciting the hero’s life, spoke softly.
[The sin is, a mere mortal monopolizing a goddess.]
—
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T/N: We, finally got the hero’s name huh…