You have no alerts.
    Header Background Image

    ~Chapter 1~

    “Hey.”

    At the short call, the child lifted their head.

    The child, covered in dust, was rummaging through a corpse’s pockets.

    “Are you hungry?”

    Leviathan asked. Instead of answering, the child rolled their blue eyes around.

    It looked like they wanted to say they were hungry… but they were wary.

    ‘A wise choice.’

    No matter how hungry you are, you shouldn’t run up to a stranger.

    But still… going through a dead soldier’s pockets wasn’t much better.

    “Eat.”

    Leviathan took out a piece of jerky from his coat and held it out.

    “Come out from there first.”

    It was hard to keep looking at the child standing beside the horribly mangled corpse.

    Even if this place was a battlefield filled with blood.

    “Looks like an Iosia soldier.”

    From the uniform, the dead man was from Iosia.

    Leviathan sat down on the ruins of a building and took out a cigarette.

    As he lit it and exhaled smoke, the desolate surroundings came into view.

    “I’m from the Empire. I won’t hurt you.”

    He held out the jerky again.

    Long smoke scattered each time he breathed out.

    “The war is over too.”

    The child remained stiff, still wary.

    After a moment, the child slowly crept closer and took the food.

    “……”

    “You should say thank you.”

    At that, the child pressed their lips tightly together.

    Up close, the child looked even worse.

    Dirty beyond words. What were they even wearing? Rags?

    “Tch.”

    Leviathan clicked his tongue.

    Messily cut hair, thin wrists showing under worn clothes—anyone could tell the child hadn’t been cared for by an adult.

    But…

    For some reason, those blue eyes looking up at him shone strangely bright.

    “Alright, alright. Just eat.”

    Leviathan roughly handed over the food.

    The child bowed their head and took a small bite. The faint teeth marks left on the hard jerky looked pitiful.

    A small child.

    Maybe six or seven years old.

    ‘Did they lose their parents?’

    The village had been completely destroyed by dark creatures. Leviathan hid his heavy feelings and let out a long breath of smoke.

    “Recovery troops will come soon, so eat and wait. Stay away from the bodies. You’ll catch something.”

    The wind changed direction. Leviathan quickly crushed the cigarette and put it out.

    When he brushed the dust off the child’s silver hair, the child stared straight at him.

    ‘Damn, those eyes…’

    Why are they so big and clear? Are they about to spill over?

    Leviathan scratched the back of his head and stood up.

    The moment he took a step—

    “Mister.”

    The child finally spoke. A surprisingly clear voice.

    “Yeah.”

    “Is the war really over?”

    Leviathan quietly looked down at the child.

    “Yeah. It’s over.”

    Only after saying it firmly did it feel real.

    Ten years.

    A full ten years.

    The war between humans and dark creatures.

    Leviathan had spent all ten years on that battlefield.

    But now it was over. He had killed the damn dark mage who started it all.

    All that remained was cleaning up the remnants—like the group of dark creatures he had just dealt with in this village.

    But…

    Leviathan looked once more over the ruined village.

    “I’m sorry.”

    The child blinked their large eyes.

    “For not coming sooner.”

    He said it lightly and began to walk.

    Soon, the recovery troops would arrive, and the child would be under their protection.

    As for him, he planned to return to the Empire.

    Then—

    A weak tug pulled at his clothes.

    “……”

    When he turned back, those strange eyes were staring up at him again.

    “……You want to follow me?”

    Nod.

    “It’s not a very good choice. Still?”

    Nod nod.

    “Just in case… your parents—”

    Shake.

    “……Any other family?”

    The child shook their head hard.

    Unable to watch, Leviathan grabbed the small head.

    “Alright, stop.”

    “……”

    His own troubled face reflected in those clear eyes.

    He roughly scratched the back of his head.

    “Ha… well. As long as you’re not from the Magic Kingdom, I guess.”

    The Magic Kingdom, Arcadia, was a closed nation made only of mages. Its people couldn’t freely move to other regions without the king’s permission.

    Leviathan let out a long sigh.

    ‘This is troublesome. Looks like a local of this village.’

    But it was hard to ignore those clear blue eyes, like sapphires.

    And the small hand clinging to him like a lifeline.

    Well.

    What does nationality matter to a child who lost their parents?

    Their whole world was already gone.

    “Come here.”

    Leviathan lifted the child up. They were unbelievably light.

    He placed the child on a nearby warhorse.

    Right. Leaving them behind in a place full of corpses didn’t feel right anyway.

    ‘Now I’ve picked up a burden.’

    As he climbed up behind, the small shoulders flinched.

    ‘I’ll take them to the Empire and find a place to entrust them.’

    At least it would be better than here.

    Clop, clop. The horse began to move.

    Leviathan carefully adjusted the speed.

    “……”

    Warm body heat could be felt against his chest.

    A small head swaying. Messily cut silver hair. Lips chewing the remaining jerky. No chubby cheeks… just too thin.

    ‘Small for a boy.’

    He forgot to ask the child’s age.

    Well… they’d part ways anyway. Maybe it didn’t matter.

    “Don’t eat while riding. You’ll bite your tongue.”

    The child quickly stuffed the jerky into their coat.

    As I thought…

    It matches, right?

    It has to be.

    “Stay back. Sparks will fly.”

    That face.

    “Why are you shaking? Are you cold?”

    That way of speaking.

    “Wear this at least.”

    And that emblem on the uniform!

    I flipped open the inside of the large military coat the man had given me.

    On the dark navy coalition uniform lining, a personal insignia was embroidered.

    The emblem of the Bamillon Empire.

    ‘The emblem of the Duke Zibert family!’

    As expected—this man was Leviathan Zibert!

    ‘Ugh…’

    Tears suddenly welled up in my eyes.

    Because all the suffering I’d gone through flashed before me like a movie.

    My past life memories returned—

    right in the middle of this damn battlefield.

    That’s right.

    This was the world of a novel.

    A war novel called “The Sword Planted on Ruins.”

    And I had been reborn as an extra—

    a character not even mentioned once.

    The novel was divided into Part 1 and Part 2, dealing with the war between humans and dark creatures.

    And the male lead was, of course—

    the man right in front of me.

    ‘The hero—Leviathan Zibert.’

    Right now, this was the end of Part 1.

    Which meant—

    the first war had just ended.

    ‘Because THIS Leviathan killed the dark mage!’

    A non-mage killing the strongest dark mage on the continent.

    He truly deserved the title of hero.

    But the problem was—

    ‘This isn’t the end.’

    In a war novel, what does Part 2 mean?

    Another war begins.

    ‘Oh Dark Mage! Please return and restore the dignity of mages to this land!’

    Just like that crazy line—

    the king of the Magic Kingdom goes insane and revives the dark mage.

    And the reason the dark mage could rampage again was simple.

    Because—

    ‘Leviathan Zibert dies.’

    The strongest character in the world.

    The hero of Part 1.

    ‘…And thus, the hero of the war, Leviathan Zibert, died.
    The continent fell into sorrow.
    Taking advantage of this, the Magic King succeeded in summoning the dark mage.
    The peaceful land turned into ruins once more.
    Then…
    Who will plant the sword of the hero again in this land?
    —End of Part 1.’

    It was a crazy ending.

    Readers cursed the author like mad.

    Ironically, thanks to the amazing writing improvement and incredible characters in Part 2, the novel became popular again.

    But—

    ‘I’m a Part 1 character!’

    A character doomed to die in that cliff-ending!

    “Ugh……”

    So my conclusion was simple.

    ‘I want to live. I’m sick of war.’

    To do that—

    I must not let Part 1 end.

    This peaceful ending must continue forever.

    Which means—

    “You’ll make a hole in the ground, you dirty kid.”

    I must not let this hero die!

    ‘But the problem is… I don’t remember why Leviathan dies!’

    No matter how hard I tried to think, I couldn’t remember the cause of his death.

    I skimmed the later parts, and life here was too intense—my past life memories were blurry.

    Still—

    how could I forget something this important?!

    ‘First, I need to find out how he dies. And to do that, I need to stay close to him.’

    I looked down at my hand.

    A tiny child’s hand.

    There wasn’t much I could do in this body.

    So there was only one way.

    “Mister.”

    At my serious voice, Leviathan glanced down.

    With his sharp eyes, he looked like a fierce beast that had just finished eating.

    ‘He looks really scary when he’s quiet…’

    But I wouldn’t back down.

    That crazy cliff-ending author is scarier.

    So don’t die and do your job, hero!

    I relaxed all my facial muscles and made the most harmless face I could.

    “Do you need a youngest child at home?”

    From war story to slice of life.

    Let’s go.

    0 Comments

    Enter your details or log in with:
    Heads up! Your comment will be invisible to other guests and subscribers (except for replies), including you after a grace period. But if you submit an email address and toggle the bell icon, you will be sent replies until you cancel.
    Note